The sunlight in my growing...

2011-07-03T05:31:00.000-07:00

The sun came through the south-east window positioned odd
but it burned my eyes like a summer one
It enticed me to imagine that it might be more temperate out there
than I thought.
So, I walked out of the door into it's light
where the wind from the west swiftly ditched in line,
reminding me that it's his turn at the seasonal wheel.
It chilled me to the bone.
"It's not warm," was the reminder.

Alright, alright, a girl can hope, can't she....

I was glad that I put on the gray and red flannel,
the one with the quilted lining,
and that I'd found some heavy boy socks to slip into.
Tip-toeing across the stones to get to the truck,
a couple of pulls of the frozen passenger door
and it reluctantly creaked open to let me in.
It knows what's coming and I wasn't expecting cooperation,
not in these temperatures.
So, I didn't sit in it,
I just leaned over the seat and turned the key.
And even though I only half expected it,
the dependable Red Rover growled it's yawn.
I should know better.
Good old truck.
I flipped, flipped, flipped each dial
to call open the fan to offer me some full-on heat.
It blew, "All I got is cold right now."
I was fine with that.
"Shiver here a minute," I said, "and find your bearings. You'll warm up in no time."
It just hummed and blew.

The beagle had followed me out.
She ran back and forth in the front yard,
excited and full of energy.
A new day for her, in her new life
and she has a 10 or more year lease on it
If her luck holds out.
I thought, "Her confidence soars when she's out of the house."
I tip-toed back to the front and stood on the step for a minute,
whistled for her
and she ran sideways to me.
She runs sideways.
She came right to me, her savior,
assured that her reward would be in heaven,
or in a shiny stainless steel bowl in the laundry room
it's all the same to her.

2011-04-06T13:11:00.001-07:00

2011-03-22T18:03:00.000-07:00

Nicholas

This is odd, but sometimes when I am thinking about cleaning the bath, or taking a bath, or washing my face, the image that I think of --the room that occurs to me-- is not the one in the house I live in now; but, almost invariably it is the bathroom from the house that my dad built in the country. I will think, "I need to clean the bath," and that terribly ugly blue bathtub from my folks house materializes in my mind.

Anyhow, what I was thinking is there must be a story in there, in the bathroom in my mind, that is wanting me to coax it out. So, I thought on it for a little bit and I said, "Okay, so what do you want me to tell about." And the picture that came to me was of something that happened when I was 23 while in the blue bathroom that changed with me in my life.

A year or so before I'd come home to live with my mom and dad after a few years of living away. I was working and living, but mostly what I was doing was partying, and I crashed most often on my friend Linda's couch in town on the weekends.

And I met this guy. This young man, I met him on his 21st birthday. To me, he looked like an Indian brave with all this wild, long, black hair and his nose was sharp and also, funny enough, a little flat. I liked the way his jawbone curved up around his ears and the skin that covered it was kind of an olive white with seemingly no pores ~ it just glowed, so touchable. I'd never seen skin like that. When I first saw him, I think I remember my heart flipped over on itself because his teeth were so bright and lined up in his mouth like God had taken time with each, one by one, like picking perfect pearls and carefully placing them in his gums. And what I did, because I couldn't help myself, was watch him.

My girlfriends and I would go to this bar on Thursday nights to drink and dance, and he would come in sometimes, usually by himself, but once he came in with a stunning girl. I stared at him from the other side of the bar until she noticed, and she was obviously annoyed by me, and she maybe commented to him about it. He came over to me and sat down, I think to set me straight, and he said, "Hey, sweetheart."

I went, "That's not my name."
He was like, "I'm sorry?"
I said, "That's not what I go by. I'm not Sweetheart."

He didn't say anything for a minute while he looked around, and then went, "Okay." And he walked back to the pretty girl, and I smiled at her, but she didn't smile back.

Later, Linda and I walked down to the convenience store close-by, and he was there inside with his buddy. I waved at him and he waved to me, and then as we were all walking out at the same time, he was holding the door for us, I took ahold of his arm and pulled him out of the store and made him skip with me all the way back to the bar.

When we got to the front door I asked him, "Where's your girlfriend?"
He said, "She ain't my girlfriend."
I went, "Okay, so where is she?"
He was like, "I dunno."

Linda came around the corner and met up with us and she asked him, "Who are you?"
I introduced them, and then I said to her, "I'm going to keep this one. Okay?"
She shrugged, "Okay."

He and I chatted outside and he told me so many lies and fed me so much bullshit which I ate up like chocolate, and begged for more. He was so glorious to me. I'd never met any man this beautiful, and he was as careless and wild as I wanted to be. Later, we went back to Linda's apartment where he and I slept in her roommate's room. I woke early and saw him there beside me, and thought to myself, "Oh crap."

Time went on and for awhile I was kind of into him. Sometimes I wanted to be with him, sometimes not. He often cramped my style, but he was so fun that I just settled into the routine of being his girlfriend.

Something strange happened though. Something got serious.

He told me about a scholarship he was given to be able to attend school for free but that the opportunity would run out when he was 22. I knew he couldn't let that happen so we worked together, making phone calls, filling out registration, etc... and in a few months, he went from living in a constant stupor on some guy's couch to being a Freshman at our local University. I decided to pursue an education too, and attended a community college. I thought that I might like to go on to University too, and maybe do something in medicine. People who'd been around us, our partying friends fell away, and it ended up just us for awhile. I wasn't in love, but there was something deep that held me to him.

Over Thanksgiving break we went to Florida and something shifted inside me while we were there. I looked at him in another way and I saw a young man with a bad temper, childish reactions to things, his pouting and....ok, this is getting really boring, I know, I know. But it wasn't even him, something happened inside me that made me more sure about my life and what I wanted. At the time I never would have guessed that not only was it my mind and heart that were changing, but my entire body chemistry ~ and how it was all working together to recreate my future...

Wtf does this have to do with a blue bathroom right? How 'bout I fast forward?

Okay, so on the way home from Florida he blew his top over my sticking one of those plastic thingies that you push in through the rind of an orange to drink juice right from the fruit? He told me they didn't work, but I wanted to try anyhow. I thought it was brilliant, this little pokey thing, and the idea of being able to use it to drink directly from the oranges that I was bringing back from Florida was too much temptation for me. I poked it in and the juice ended up all over his car seat. He hit the roof, he was so angry, and then my immediate thought was, "I hate this beautiful boy. I'll wait 'til after Christmas and then break up with him."

A few weeks later, though, I was in the blue bathroom upstairs in my parent's house. Many secret things went on in there over the years, but this was the biggest secret of all. And it was between me and whatever was going on inside of me. I took the test that I bought at the store on my way home from work that day, I removed it from it's aluminum and paper wrapper, and held it under the stream of urine as directed. Who knew that this was something that I'd brought back with me from Florida, too? The line turned dark, dark blue. It was like the test was speaking to me boldly, "This is your answer, lady. Don't ask me again."

My mother called up to me from the bottom of the stairs and asked, "Well, how is it?"

I was staring in the mirror by then. No college for me now. And it was here at this moment that I learned something very important, much more important than anything I'd learned up to this point in my life, and it was this: Things happen. You can try to plan your life, but it's not ever going to be the way you think. And also, the way I chose to react to this thing was going to affect everyone around me and most particularly the little zygote forming into personhood inside my belly. I thought to myself, "How I respond to her will affect her response and everyone's response to me and to this little baby for the rest of our lives."

So I said through the closed door, "It's fine."
She asked, "Fine as in you're not pregnant?"
I said, "No, fine as in I am."

I think she still had some dramatic reaction to it, but for me, and this is the first truly conscious thought I had about my personal future, and it was inside me, inside that blue bathroom that I understood something, and it said, "I see. Okay, this is what it's about. This is what I'm going to do. I'm going to be a mother."

So, it was not long after this that I did say goodbye to the wild, dark beauty with the luminous skin, and to his sparkly teeth, too ~ although, I did end up keeping him in a way that I never expected.....

Circulation

2011-03-22T18:00:00.001-07:00

A breakneck pace

of a hungry dog feeding on limited marrow

savoring the small bone

A fortune of effortless breathing

but a numbered heartbeat

A thrum of pulse igniting the sequence

miles of hills and valleys, the careening stream

movement..movement..movement

An epoch, faint gentle hands pushing through the gate

gate after gate after gate

Opening to the next meandering expedition

toward an inevitable grief

A brain synapse reminds of the impermanence

each moment a variation of the last

Tick..tick.. tick...

A going, a return

Respiration

2011-03-22T17:59:00.001-07:00

Life in,

And suspended..

The exchange

Between purity and poison

There is a pause

No fluctuation..

No movement...

Then, a sweeping,

the dust of the exhale, life released.

Ah, the activity of the honeycomb seems constant,

A din of inspirited hum

Not to be restrained...

Then, the voluntary hold

To reconsider the silence

Between life and not life

And the soundless breath

Before heeding to the pressure

Forced to acquiesce to the purging

To redeem my very essence

There

2011-03-22T17:08:00.000-07:00

There was a day in summer
when I rode my bike
to go passed it

Then I stopped a moment
to let my imagination unwind
to recollect the scent of viburnum
to let my mind wander along the edge
of a neatly placed railroad tie
to see
the spirea bursting bridal white
from the edge of the maturing trees

Trees that used to be a gangly young wood
before being cleared away
to accommodate the building
of a sturdy gray structure with black shutters
amid the chaos of wild grapevine, hickory and locust

I recall the pink and white impatiens
neatly planted each beside the other,
beside the other...
And the red walkway
brick to brick held together with new sand
leading to the front door
which when opened
allows a breeze through the entryway
to the back doors
to a wooden deck
sitting high on hand-built footers
absorbing all the energy of the
golden rays
a skin seering heat when touched
awaiting the protection of the canopy's
shade
with the birds which will come to sup
at the feeders
come evening

And in my mind's eye
there are the screens readied and clean
waiting below each window
for their seasonal turn
and a sweating glass of melting ice
leftover
from a quenched thirst
and two folding chairs
and a wrought iron plant stand
freshly painted a light yellow
or maybe off-white..
there is a stream
in all it's meandering
and the odd shape of the side yard

the unwound hose
the wheelbarrow
and spade
the opened doors of the garage
the dogwood
the evergreen
once spindly and hopeful...

Here the thought wanders forward
beyond the bedrock driveway

And back to now
and to the red bike that doesn't belong there
nor it's reminiscent owner

And the memory
folds itself up like an old lover's letter
neatly placed back in it's tucked awayness

The sun
hot and clear
shining on the upturned face
to a new sky

And a mower hums
a dog barks

While I pedal forward again
back from where I came

2011-03-16T19:39:00.000-07:00

2011-03-16T06:00:00.000-07:00

A wee sound picked up
and carried by the air
underneath the doorway
dancing down the stairs
through the kitchen
bouncing lightly
off the walls
narrowing inside
the tunneled hall
muffled and squeezing
beneath the bedroom door
and a quick sweep
to pirhouette around the corner
so tender and small
alighting so soft on the
the tiniest bones
in the human body
as a gift
unwrapped
Sweet song of a bathing child
Sweet song

2011-02-07T07:48:00.000-08:00

Late
She said mumbling,
Did you remember to
set the alarm?
He told her bumbling,
Erm..yes
She was all fumbling,
It's still winter
outside
He replied grumbling,
But I set it for
Spring...

2010-10-12T11:39:00.000-07:00

Raphael Darling
Blue wading pool
Bronzed skinned
In bright sunlight

Little boy sings
Wonders about
A twinkling star
One thousand years dead

No matter
Only this day exists
In sparkling water
Contained in round plastic

He stands in the middle
Reaching limbs to the light
No movement
A naked fountain

Sweet cherub
With Fishes
Spitting water
To heaven

2010-06-24T15:44:00.000-07:00

I do not know many poets.
I do not know any poets, really.
Which sounds bleak, I know.

I think sometimes that
I might join a
Poetry reading group.
Or allow a (real) poet to
Read and critique me.

I think again.

Because
I really do not know
How to write a poem.
Or how to read one.

And frankly, I do not care.

Why do I write?
Why do I breathe?
I do not know.

I do know that I breathe to live.
I do not write to live.
But it is surely the same
Drive that leads me to breathe
Or eat
Or have sex
That I feel in my center solar
When it is time to write again.

I do not ever know what I will write about.
All I know is that it is time.
And I do not work on it for weeks.
I work on it for minutes.

Until it is done.

It has got to be like
How a colonic would feel.
Except, of course,
I am not getting rid of
A lot of shit.

Or am I?

At least, I do not think so.
I write only in a way
That looks good to me.
Or sounds right to my ear
When I read it aloud
To myself.

I sometimes think I would like
To write about lofty things.
Things from other places.
Places that one might deem
More important
Than the ordinary life that is my own.

But then I realize
That I do not know of any place
Like that.
And I cannot write of things and places
That I do not know.

How could I?

My friend Jim told me the other morning
that he was telling a friend's son
that he was trying to decide
whether to paint a landscape
of the gardens where we live
or of the animals.
The young man told him, "You shouldn't
paint about any of these things. I took some
photos while in Europe. You should paint those!"
And Jim said to me, "I don't want to paint about there!
I want to paint about here."

I understood that.

What this gives rise to
Is the value of speaking
For your environment
Not just of it.

Telling of things you know
For the things you know.

In other words
To point to the ordinary life
And offer a language
For the voiceless
To be seen in its
New expression.

And in this way
One might never see a familiar
Landscape
Or an animal
In the same way
again.

2010-06-14T05:59:00.000-07:00

Most mornings now I eat my cereal on the front porch
Sitting on the stoop, barefoot
surrounded by green clover, weeds, spindly overgrown pansies
two cats (one not mine, but who claims me anyway)
and a dog.

Often called "quiet solitude" it is anything but that
Though I still recognize the hint and feel a nudge from my
surroundings that I am sitting in a new reality
And the world I inhabit is tilting in another direction
It is one without children

There were paintings in our house when I was young
Wildlife ones painted by an artist friend
who is still a friend
Two of them were placed on the wall above the sofa
side by side
one of a red fox,
the other, two squirrels
One afternoon my nephew, very young at the time,
pronounced them as,
"Two Skunks and a Dog!"

I often think of that when flanked by these
two cats and the beagle all vying and vying and vying
for the leftover milk
in my cereal bowl
Realizing that those paintings now
reside in another house on another wall
My memory of them an echo
And only projected upon these
unsuspecting creatures whose energy too
is fleeting through time

I was thinking yesterday and this is without
pride or gratitude, mind you, I wasn't even feeling
guilt about it when I recognized
that I was holding it, holding time
sitting in a perfect 'something'
On the front porch
I experienced something quite undone, unfettered
undressed, even unrequited
I just happened to be there with the animals
and they didn't know it, of course, because
they are always there
But I watched in quiet servitude to whatever
it is I serve
Acknowledging, simply, yes it is--
(Held and gone that quickly),
It is perfect.

Whatever perfect even means, I don't know
But it is the best description I have
Because earlier, or later, depending on perspective
I'd awoken at around 2.30, deeply troubled when
I heard the word "mom" spoken so clearly
by my oldest child who is no longer living with me

He wasn't there when
I opened my eyes
I got up to check on the smaller children
and wondered if I would find his shoes by the door
Where he used to leave them after coming in at night
In the past it was a certain sign of his safety
that he'd arrived home
But the space by the front door was
and is empty of his shoes

He is gone
And so I released my panic for his sake
I went back to bed with a soft heart
A mind eased
That his shoes are now sitting (or not sitting)
beside another door
at this late, or early, hour
for me to not worry over anymore

2010-04-28T15:16:00.000-07:00

Behind me the sound
Of leftover rumbling
Now a hollow bellow
Is just an echo
Of the night's stormy violence

Satiated and passing
The morning air yawns serene
And smells earthy
Of worms and ozone
So the gentle Sunday emerges
Steamy-like from the moist ground

I am awash in a pale golden light
From the rising sun
And the sudden idea that
I am witness to time's newest day

A glistening shimmer
Across the hazy fog
At the schoolyard
A path leads my eyes to the first light
And all the potential of another beginning

This compulsion of a stubborn earth
To revolve
Keeps a poet busy
Considering "new day" metaphors
And unique ways to express them

And also the agreement
(to which I never actually agreed)
That calls one to service
To recount daybreak
As it has from the genesis
Of a brute's first
Rapt attention to the buttery warmth
And ensuing pictographs
Of sunshine
After a storm

As it's always been
I am also compelled
To describe what I see
As if it's not been written
(Like the repetition of dawn)
A billion times before

In a Stairwell

2010-04-25T18:25:00.000-07:00

It crystalized a moment in time
And silenced the yearning
At least briefly
A relief at last
Where fingers followed the outline
Of a forearm
Touching the telltale
Coursing vessels
Beating at the wrist
A rhythm of want
Slipped sweetly into the hand
of another
And joined finger over finger
Weaving not just a holding
But effecting an ascension
To the next place
Of being together

2010-04-21T16:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you write about nothing
because nothing is all you have
This is easy to explain
In that the other day
I was trying to imagine my own mind
And what came to me was the image of my brain
Several sections of it’s matter
Appeared as blank splotches
Like empty, dark water

I was saddened because I thought to myself
That these are perhaps the areas
of the things
I can no longer remember
And will never recollect again
I countered more hopeful, “Maybe one day I might make a good Buddhist.”
Mindlessness being a virtue

The past, the present,
names, faces,
times, places,
words, memory
drop from the synapses pattern
and plop into the blank spots
drowned in emptiness of the forgotten

Maybe this is what death is like.

Perhaps this is a harbinger to death
A symbol of our certain demise
An untested aspect of biology
An intelligent trigger latent
And ancient
That makes the coming sleep easier to accept.

Dendrites shrivel like tulip stamen
after the season has passed
Brain cells are bubbles
blown to heaven rising
that pop
Dissipating all their energy
released by a common pressure
and gone

Drawing a blank
“I don’t remember”
Or “I can’t recall”
Is a more like a quieting

Facelessness
Namelessness
And less nostalgia
Create a simpler exit

It is not just an ending of memory
These images of silent black puddles
But perhaps it’s a source of ease:
Worry unwrought
Beauty unheld
Expectation undone
Life unfilled
Unprecious
Unfragmented

2010-04-14T19:25:00.000-07:00

There was a time that I thought
She had died on purpose
After the many times she tried before
I thought at last she'd succeeded

Looking back now I am remembering
It all differently though
Because you can remember things differently
Even if the events remain
Unchanged

It could be a matter of perspective
Maybe of maturity
A re-imagining once
Coping has been learned

Because now I see clearly
The freshly baked cookies
On the counter
The flat of pansies and potting soil
On the garage floor
The clothes recently purchased
Their receipt
And the gifts and gift wrap
On the table

All of these thing imply
A return
Not a suicide

And what I see in particular
And most often
Is the carelessly discarded purple t-shirt
Rumpled on the vanity

The one she'd put on
Earlier that morning
Maybe after her shower
Or her last cup of coffee

And she had it on while buying
Flowers and gifts and
Clothes that didn't fit
Probably even while baking cookies

And it was the one she wore while
Visiting an old neighbor
Who impulsively snapped
A polaroid that day

My mother's last live photo
The one taken
In the purple t-shirt,
Her final witness

2010-04-07T12:41:00.000-07:00

As the water receded
what was left on the sand was a froth
green, brown, alive
with bubbles
silent crackling
millions of tiny universes
popping one by one
absorbing into the ancient remains
of animals once breathing
their food and shelter, too
now ground into firmament
beautiful wet warmth, firm
beneath my feet
walking on the ages..
Is this what we are to you,
Leftovers of a wave?

2010-02-10T13:34:00.000-08:00

I dropped Lea off to ballet last Monday and when she exited the truck I stayed a minute and watched her walk in the front door. Her coltish legs reaching up to the sky in her pink tights. I felt like I wanted to watch her forever, getting out and walking in, over and over, so I didn't miss any nuance of the motion. Or of the moment. Which is the only moment that was real to me then; that I actually knew was happening.

Because it could have been the end of everything right there. Which it was, I suppose, since each moment's ending is really a little death. And, I recognize that and so, I didn't want to not know it while it was happening.

I couldn't stay though. Not just stay there and sit there in my truck watching the moment because, you know, the moment ended. It ended quick as moments do, and besides, the school considers it remiss if a parent pulls up and parks in the no-parking lane. And of course, like a blink she was already gone, long gone, having simply vanished before my eyes because her energy catapults her so swiftly to the next part of her life. There is no slowing down when you are 13, there just isn't. And there is nothing more you want to do when your 44.

As I was pulling away and thinking about it, I said aloud to the emptiness of the dead, "You're missing everything, Mother." I waited for the response I never get, and so I followed up with quiet resignation, under my breath I whispered, "You've missed everything."

Last night I had another dream like ones I have sometimes where I call my mother's phone and she doesn't answer. I'll call again and again and often even go to her house to look for her, and she will be gone. The lights out. Like she has been gone away for a long time. And then finally as I get so desperate to find her during one final call, she will answer. There is great relief for me, but in the dream she is often preoccupied with something and often packing again for another trip. It feels like she has left the family and that she is no longer part of my life. I can't convince her to stay. In the dream she has moved on with a companion, usually a man, and they are traveling.

Once a long time ago, right after she died, in a dream she told me that she had a lot to do where she is now so we could no longer meet and talk like we used to. I believed that to be the time where I let her go to her new life. Or her death. Her death-life, I guess. And so, now I realize when I awaken from the current dreams, the ones where she is engrossed in her own preparations, I have to recognize that there is no return from where she is.

My mind might conjure up her image as reassurance, though. In these cases I like to think the Dream-Maker as a kind of benevolent Abstract, so that in this way It soothes me when I get too frantic in my search for her.

Steven Waits

2010-01-20T11:17:00.000-08:00

Steven doesn't want to be home today. Although he is so sweet that he wouldn't show his displeasure with me, if he has any. He tells me the things that make him unhappy, but he is mostly so optimistic and patient that he sees or finds the bright side, in his own way.

He did say that he is really bored and wants to go outside and do something, but I'm having an "outside" issue today: It's really cold out there.

He said also that he wants to spend time with me (very nice, thank you, Steven :).), so he brought his laptop up here to be with me. Leaning back on his dad's pillow he is playing Roblox Builder's Club while I read. I have a Roblox account, too, but I'm not all that interested in playing it today. He's o.k. with that, too.

We also forgot to go to gym class today. So he missed that.

While it's not the ideal homeschooling situation (one complete with schoolbooks and paper), I do think it's a life lesson to learn to be accommodating to people and finding creative ways to still be together without being demanding of one another's time. It's a real give and take in relationship. I let him know that I'm a little burnt out and somehow he can relate to that. He finds empathy and allows me to be myself, yet realizes that I still need him close. It's a side-by-side experience of the most authentic kind.

I'm not capable of making demands of my children to be any more or less than their truest selves. I'm just not. I don't have a lot of set rules. I don't tell them what to do all the time. I give them lots of room for learning (sometimes hard) lessons and I definitely encourage them to stop and breathe and listen to their inner needs when they believe it's time. We all need time to think or even to... not think

I'm glad that they often allow me this same wide berth to be in whatever emotional space I seem to require. I also believe that as they develop and begin to understand the lapse of time better, they can understand that emotions aren't the things by which we use to navigate through life, emotions rise and they go as swiftly as the tide, but they are often flags to pay heed to, and help us to know when to slow down or speed up or, in my case, to anchor. I think I've got some mixed metaphor going on there, but, you get what I'm saying :).

So, a question might be posed to Steven,"What did you do today?" and his answer might be, "Nothing." And for us, that's o.k. And for him, he seems o.k. with that, too. But he did make a kind and loving choice to be a marvelous companion for his world weary mom who could curl up with him beside her and read books and listen to his little anecdotes* until the first sign of a warm day.

*("Hey mom. Did you know that Nick's dad had a sign posted over his garage that said, "Trepassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again?""
No, I didn't. That's a good one, Steven :))

Steven Goes

2010-01-14T06:08:00.000-08:00

And Momma waits.

But, wait. It's not as gloomy as it sounds because over the years mothers figure out ways to keep themselves busy while their homeschoolers are attending classes. We often carry multiple bags of crap wherever we go. These are mine:

There is always a snack of some kind and a water or juice box in one of them for the kid (it's a healthy snack, of course, because we have to keep up the appearance that our kids are eating healthily even though they are home all day and not receiving the typical "Type A" lunch -ugh- served at school. Which is mostly true for many of us, but for some of us oldsters, it's often not. After a few years, we just start to grab what's on the counter).

But, we also carry "things to do" so we're not idly sitting by, and often so we don't have to talk to anyone if we don't feel like it (It's true, don't say it isn't!). And since most of us are too smart for our own good, often these bags contain various creative or intellectual distractions. And these include things we can do while we are chatting with other mothers, or even things we can do if there is no one we know or someone we don't want to talk to.

Besides my purse, which inside is alllll the mystery of a typical handbag (I call my it my "Black Bag"), is my "Green Bag" and it contains my knitting or sewing, a notebook to keep track of stitches, and also, my sketch book. There are also colored pencils, regular number 2 pencils, and various pens I've stolen unconsciously. Right now in the Green Bag is the purple scarf I've been working on for a year, and the lavender baby blanket I started last Spring for my nephew's new baby who was born in August and who will be a year old (at least) before I get it to her. I can also find the drawing book that I received as a door prize for arriving early to a craft show (Yay!)...

....and what I've been using as a "Doodler." Yes, I started doodling and it's become an art form:

Done doodle:

Doodle in progress:

In my "Colorful Bag," the one with the little bird on it (this is a tote I made for my books and surprisingly that is what I use it for!), I can find the books that I'm currently reading or the books that are overdue at the library. Right now I'm timely, so these are just the books I'm reading:

And yes, there is always a magazine to save me from ADD moments when I couldn't concentrate on a paragraph in a book if I tried. "Real Simple" has a dual meaning in this case.

2010-01-11T07:18:00.000-08:00

I signed on to fix some spelling and punctuation, but now I don't feel like hunting the culprits down.

It's a home day for Steven and me. I need to go to work everyday now, but he is reluctant to go with me at this point and I don't want to leave him to his own devices for hours at a time. I really encourage solitude for all my kids because I think extraversion is overrated, but I don't want him to feel out of the loop. I want him to know that I want him at work with us, and that there is a place for him there. He does like it sometimes when it's busy and his buddies are there (My brothers-in-law), but he gets bored because he's not quite old enough or mature enough to work on anything, and frankly, it can be dangerous. I do bring books, the laptop and various things for him to do, but he's a homebody and prefers his familiar.

Some people think we do him a disservice by keeping him somewhat insulated, but you know, I defend that by offering that he really has some good insight into things that comes from independent thought. He doesn't speak in catch phrases or cliche. His voice is his own ~ It's interesting. He can trust himself because he doesn't have adults in his life who don't trust him.

I read back over this and it sounds like I'm a bit defensive... which may be true. I might sometimes worry whether we are doing the right thing by him.

His brother Nicholas has said to me with some grief in his voice that he "knows too much." That we've taught him to "think too much" and it's troubling because he says there is no one his age who can understand him. I've heard this from other adult homeschoolers as well, that they are always on the periphery of their peers and feel like outsiders most of the time. Even though, I point this out to my young friends, they are often admired for the reason they feel different; people find them enigmatic and are drawn to them. I understand though, but, I also believe it is a fallout from being a young adult and that most young people feel this way either way, schooled or unschooled.

Ok, so I'm better now. The kid will be fine. And also, I am listening to Steven giggling his head off in his room where he quietly closed the door so is most certainly watching something on YouTube that I would disapprove of, but will keep my trap shut because his laugh is so reassuring.

Steven Holidays

2010-01-10T08:19:00.000-08:00

So many pics, so little time. There are various photos here of Steven's December. We went away to a cabin in the hills like we often do and Steven hiked and played in the hot tub. He played Killer Bunnies and put together some snap circuits and his new Playmobils. Steven ate very well there and had lots of fun. Earlier in the month we went to a friend's house and made gingerbread houses. There's also a pic there of Steven with his friend, Orb and the cubes they made with their sewing teacher, Creatrix Jane. Oh! And for Christmas Steven got the suit he asked for. He likes to dress up. Recently he added a new shirt and tie to his assemble (not pictured).

Steven Continues, part 2

2010-01-09T10:02:00.001-08:00

Steven also did a splendid job last month as The Lord-in-Waiting in the play "The Emperor's Nightingale." His drama teacher told him after the play when she was giving out accolades to the kids, she asked him what he thought The Lord-in-Waiting meant for The Emperor and Steven answered, "He needed him." And she said, "That's how this play was for us. We couldn't have done it without you."

Nice. And she can be a serious bitch, too, but, for some unknown reason my kids are drawn to her.

When I dropped Lea off to her first class with this teacher a few summers ago, we arrived just as the lady was screaming at all the kids to SHUT UP and hollering about how they better pay attention and to start UNLOADING THE PROPS because... WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET TO WORK!. Lea desperately wanted to stay. I turned to her, patted her shoulder and said, "Ok. So. Good luck then."

Steven Continues

2010-01-09T09:47:00.000-08:00

This week Steven starts homeschool gym, his drama workshop, classes with Candace and Taekwondo. And, as far as organized learning we'll just continue with what we've been using so far: The "You wanna try this?" method. Somehow the kid keeps learning stuff, how can I argue with what seems to be working?

Last month Steven tested and received his Senior Orange Belt:

I can't seem to add anymore pics, but will try in a little while in another post.

Steven Talks Turkey

2009-12-04T04:00:00.000-08:00

Steven with headdress. And below with his family at the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day:

This is Steven at the Science Museum where we go every month for science and art class:

Still here and still homeschooling, of course. December is a very laid-back time for us. This month..oh, wow..I'm going to write about what he's doing this month and not this week, or just today... But yeah, this month he is concentrating on his Senior Orange belt for Taekwondo. He tests for it next week. And then the school will have their annual TKD C-mas party (Ice skating!), and then there is the Chaos Party on the Saturday before C-mas. Chaos is a blast: an all day playtime with the TKD kids and their instructors (none over the age of 20, I think). They play all day from 2-10pm at the studio with games set up, countless t.v.s and game consoles, and lots of dodgeball, pizza and snacks. It is the best time, Steven says.

He's working hard learning his lines for the play, it is also on the 19th, the day of the Chaos Party. It all sort of culminates to that Saturday and explodes, even for Lea who will be wrapping up school for the Holiday break.

Lea is thinking about going to school part-time, btw... :)

The day after Christmas we'll be going to the cabin for 5 days. We are all looking so forward to unwinding and doing nothing but being.

Steven and I went to the Humane Society yesterday and played with the animals. We volunteer there, but call it "playing" because Steven isn't old enough to volunteer, yet.
I didn't take photos because I've been bad about documenting events.

But above there are a few recent ones of Steven, and of him with Lea, Nicholas and Royce at the Turkey Trot!

Steven Survives

2009-11-15T16:48:00.000-08:00

while his Mommy waits for inspiration for a new strategy.

Yes, we are not following a curriculum, and no, I'm not a qualified teacher. No, we don't get approval from the school board, and yes, I don't know what I'm doing sometimes. Yes, we change our minds about 14 times a year about how we want to approach book-learning,...

And no, he is not going to school next year....

Because, while he is reading at a middle school level, he hates to read. Because although he spells well, he can just barely write his letters.

And because he thinks states are countries and countries are states, and doesn't have the slightest curiosity about continents or where they are located in what seas. And because his mind wanders more than it wonders when it comes to Math. And mostly, because he believes in Santa and wears reindeer antlers or an elf hat everyday as soon as we have our first frost. (He also sleeps late and sometimes eats candy for breakfast when he gets up while he watches marathons of The Simpson episodes he's programmed into the DVR).

Meanwhile, Steven is doing the play The Emperor's Nightingale playing a lead character, "The Lord-in-Waiting." He is nervous because he has the most lines, but it'll be fine. He is sharp and in good voice and as he told his teacher, "It doesn't matter what part I get, I just want to bring the play to life." :)

He is feeling a ton better physically and back in action at Taekwondo. He is bummed to have missed so much, but has a lot of motivation to catch up and he is working it out. He should be ready by December to move on to the next belt. I'm hoping beyond hope that we are done with viruses for awhile. It has been incredibly tough on him because he enjoys TKD so much.

He is sewing with Alissa which he loves, but his machine is on the fritz ~ Fingers are crossed that we get word that it's fixed for tomorrow's class. Thank you AS for letting him use yours, just in case.

Also this week: He has theatre workshop at the library, a class at the metro parks and will be going to the science museum for a circuits and art class. When we go to work, he'll see his best friends who are mostly grown-ups, but also, when he gets home his best neighbor friends will be here for the week with their moms.

And finally, he is planning on staying up really late one night this week, until midnight, and ordering a pizza.

Steven Lives

2009-11-11T15:53:00.000-08:00

We're still out here, but it's hard to catch up on the blog regularly.

On school nights we've taken very well to turning off the television and the computers after 6pm. No screens in the evening and we are having lots of fun. Nothing special is going on, nothing to brag about, we're just eating supper together and talking, mostly. It's so great to listen to the kid's giggling and being goofy. They still bicker and the usual, but they are spending time together, which is great to us. I didn't want to turn it into more time where I have to entertain them, we basically consider it free time and we can all do whatever we want. Sometimes we hang out together and play games, but mostly not. Mostly, I read my own books and catch up on various things and they find some kind of imagination game to reckon out.

We're are reading together every night, The Life of Pi, and I can't even explain how deeply I'm enjoying reading with Lea again. My heart honestly broke when I would think about the past and all the wonderful years we read together, and how I took it for granted...and how recently when I recalled the last time we read together not realizing it was the last time. How I began to miss her asking me, "Can we read tonight?" And miss her laying her head on my shoulder, playing with my hair, and us curling and uncurling our fingers, holding hands while I read. I never thought I would hear her ask me again and I really didn't think we would ever find the time or place since she is changing and needing me less in those ways. I thought it would be o.k. because we were finding other ways of being together... But, one night last week I picked up this book and started reading it aloud. She sat on the sofa behind me, brushed my hair and quietly listened.

Steven Sick (again)

2009-11-04T06:23:00.000-08:00

This is "Virus: Round 3" since school started for Steven who doesn't attend.

He had a big week planned with lots of stuff going on, but he managed only to make it through Monday afternoon's sewing class before he was down for the count.

This is potentially trans-formative for him though. It seems like he is understanding how much good food, rest and exercise (and hand-washing) play a big part in his overall health. That is a life lesson that far exceeds any other goal we set up for him this year, and hopefully one that is being etched deeply. It is no fun to be sick when you're a kid, but really no fun to be sick over and over again.

We did get his workbook I ordered. It is a DK book helping with math skills to accompany his Saxon math curriculum that is becoming a little overwhelming for him. I totally believe the children when they say they aren't ready for a task by either telling me verbally or exhibiting signs of distraction or frustration. I'm not going to promote to Steven that he must continue work that is discouraging for him, but I'm not going to let him give up too quickly on it either; thus, a satisfying and somewhat easy workbook with big happy fonts and cute pictures. Offering small successes is a key to supporting his development, I think. This is all new for him, book learning, and I want him to know books are a significant key to finding stuff out, not a detriment to personal exploration.

Anyway, what we didn't do yesterday was a class at the local metro park and his drama workshop at the library, and what we aren't doing today is going to gym class or Taekwondo.

But, as he laid around healing his bod yesterday he did watch some dvds I found at the library about Understanding the Universe, (plus "Gremlins" and "Transformers 2"), and today he is playing Runescape and resting as much as he can.

Together we are reading: The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick

Interrupting for a commercial break:

2009-11-03T00:07:00.000-08:00

Check out the blog:

Hiliary

This is neighbor and friend, Hiliary (yeah, it's spelled right. that's the way it's spelled.) This will be a very, very entertaining blog to keep up with.

Steven Games

2009-10-29T03:28:00.000-07:00

The last couple of days we have been getting our work done here (or there), and then heading over to the library to... game. I'm not sure why it's worked out this way, but it's been like this unspoken "thing" we've been honoring. So around 2pm we hop in the truck and go to the library to tag the Wii as "ours" before the Highschoolers get there. We have a Wii here at the house, it's just more fun at the library for some reason.

It's a great escape for us to unwind at the library. These colder days we'll go and spend afternoon hours searching shelves, and with a stack of books, a drink and a snack we'll scour through our treasures while sitting in an overstuffed comfy chair. We like to hang around in a kind of stasis from the outside world until ...well, until Lea walks over and meets us after school or when we're ready to leave, I guess. Steven likes to play games, I prefer to read, but he also likes for me to drop my books and grab a controller and play with him. And sometimes I do that. Even though I don't like the Wii as much as a PS2 or 3.

I was thinking about something yesterday while I sat there waiting for my turn to Mario Party with Peach. I was thinking about how much Steven appreciates my company and how much I'm grateful for his. I wonder often why it is I don't seem to need the socialization of my peers as much as other people, but it's finally occurred to me it's not that, I don't think. I think it's that I weigh my choices, and for now I'm so acutely aware of Steven's growing and going that I want to be present to him as much as he allows and wants. I recognize so intensely the movement of time and the fading of it that I can barely make out the shadow of the moment as it whooshes past me. I don't want to miss anything.

Now, here is a dilemma. Last night, Steven confronted me that I am not forceful enough or demanding enough with him. He needs a harsher mother to tell him what to do. He tells me that he thinks he is getting a cavity in a permanent tooth and that it is up to me to make him go into the bathroom and brush his teeth. He said that it would be best if I threaten him by taking away his DS or Legos. I said to him, "Steven, that's not really my way." He was like, "But Mom, you have to do this. You have to MAKE me brush my teeth or I won't do it. You have to yell at me and make me scared of you. Like at Tae Kwon Do where they yell at us if we don't do something we're supposed to." I said, "But I would think that if you don't want cavities then you'd want to brush your teeth. I mean, like, all on your own." He was shaking his head, "But that's not how it works, Mom." I said, "Ok." Then I said,"So, are we ready to read together now?" He shrugged, "Sure." I was like, "Did you brush your teeth?" He replied, "No." And so I went, "Well, go brush and we'll read." Steven said, "Ok, be right back." Meanwhile, I'll work on some ideas to pull out of my threat pocket for the next time he balks.

Steven Rides

2009-10-22T04:19:00.000-07:00

We had a great time yesterday with neighbor Hiliary when she took us out to the barn where their horses, Snazzy and Shiloh, board. Earlier, Steven had been chatting with Hil on Facebook. He ran into my room and asked me if we could head out to J-town with her to see "the girls," and I said, "Sure!" So, we skipped gym class with Q and headed out about 10am. Once we arrived, Hil opened the barn where the tack supplies are held and we watched some of the other horses grazing:

We walked around to the front of the property where Snazzy and Shiloh stay, and we waited for Hil to open the fence:

Steven got to lead Snazzy from her paddock to the barn. They made fast friends:

Hiliary showed Steven how to groom the horses and what to do to get them, and a rider, ready for riding the back 4o:

And Steven was on the trail in no time:

Steven Stargazes

2009-10-21T05:03:00.000-07:00

I was looking forward to a week which had less structure, but... I think we need structure. Otherwise nothing gets done. If I have it on the calendar, we do it; if I don't, we don't. Or rather, we get it done slower and more grudgingly.

Yesterday was not the easiest day to work at the shop and homeschool, but we managed. Steven worked on handwriting and math. He also put together his Galileoscope with his Uncle Rob.

Robert is an amateur astronomer who has built several of his own telescopes, so I thought this would be a piece of cake for him, which it was.

We went out last evening and found Jupiter in the eastern night sky right where Rob said it would be. There were several problems, however; the first being that we didn't have a tripod so it made the telescope difficult to hold in one place and we are all naturally a little shaky so it was hard to keep any star or planet in sight. The other thing is there was a lot of atmospheric interference, so we couldn't see any real details. Then, ofcourse, town's ambient light is a pain in the ass.

Robert lives in a rural area, has a reflector telescope and a shed that he built for it at the back of his property. I asked him to let us come out there for an evening of sky watching so Steven can get a real understanding of what can be seen. He agreed, ofcourse :). Hoping that we can go next week or the week after. We also are going to the local Observatory in November. I'd already planned to take Nicholas, but we're going to make it a family affair and fingers are crossed for clear skies.

Galilean Nights

2009-10-14T03:26:00.000-07:00

The week is going ok so far. I'm a little frustrated with the kids (all 3) , but I also might be dehydrated, eating badly (this is for sure) and trying to do too much. And, it's true that when I overwork, they seem to underwork to compensate; but you know, you wants to be nagged anyway? I remember shutting down the moment someone started bitching at me to do something. I'll try to make better decisions today about my attitude and demands.

ANYhoo, Steven has been very active this week.

He went to a pumpkin farm with friends:

And he also went on a library tour. Which I forgot to take pics. But this was very fun for him and we're grateful to friend, K, for setting it up. This library is a second home to us and we've never taken the time to tour it before. It's fun to be privy to the innerworkings of WPL :).

He also attended a Science class at the library which he didn't like at all. There were too many kids breathing down his neck, he said.

Last night Steven received his orange belt. Here he is with his instructor, Mr Perdue:

This morning if it's not too cold, we're going to plant tulip bulbs and Steven has gym class with Q. Schoolwork is still happening and we spend about an hour or so a day with math, handwriting and spelling. I'm hoping to find a Social Studies book soon, but really not sure how to fit it in, yet.

The house is going to hell in a handbasket, but I figure there will be years and years of an empty home, clean and clutter-free, later. We'll revel in the chaos, meanwhile.

Steven Globe-trots (at least in books)

2009-10-08T13:09:00.000-07:00

Geography: A Literature Approach is something I've had around here for quite a few years. Linda, my sis, used this w/Kevin and recommended I keep it for Lea when the time came. Well, the time came, but Lee-lee was in school by then.

I decided to keep it in case I knew of someone who might want to use it someday. I didn't think it would be something Steven would want to work with, and last year, he didn't; but this year, he does.

It's so interesting how people change and develop over time to become more adapted to certain experiences, particularly children. Well, no, that's not true. It's everyone. I notice it in myself as well. For example, I'll read a book one year and get something out of it, and then read it another year and the understanding of the book is the same, but also different; so the original feeling about it is as it was the first time, but my consciousness holds it in a new way, a new dimension of it opens and the experience of it has deepened.

Can Steven know that is what is happening to him? I don't know. I don't think it matters. It's much more interesting just to watch him absorb himself in the experience of a new awareness, and to see his eyes light with understanding because a thing, whatever it is, has just been revealed to him simply because he is ready now.

The first book to be read along with the course is called Paddle to the Sea by Holling C. Holling. It's about a boy who lives on the northernmost part of Lake Superior who one winter finds a piece of cedar and out of it carves a man in a canoe. In the Spring, the boy releases the little boat he's named "Paddle to the Sea" and on the bottom he's also etched,"Please put me back in the water." So, Paddle to the Sea is set free to follow the flow of the Great Lakes, with minimal interruption, all the way to the St. Lawrence Seaway, to eventually be found by a lighthouse keeper on the shores of Newfoundland.

I was excited today when we found this little film online:

Paddle to the Sea

And we watched it together in the quiet house before Lea and Nicholas came home.

Steven Kicks

2009-10-02T04:54:00.000-07:00

Just a word or two about Taekwondo and Steven. In the past, I had Steven trying out a mess of things he really didn't like, just to try them. The latest was swim team at the local Jaycee pool which he mostly cried over. That wasn't the best choice we ever made.

Since I had a bad experience at a Karate place with Nicholas when he was younger, I was skeptical to try it...even though in the back of my mind, I thought Steven really might be of the temperament to enjoy it.

The Taekwondo school that Nick attended was demanding respect from him without really earning it, and had this sort of "code of honor" thing that felt contrived, it was troubling. And they seemingly were only interested in turning a dollar which they did from us to the tune of about $1500. I paid it all up front because it seemed the cheaper option, but it's not the cheaper option if your kid hates it and doesn't go. So, for me, after the experience, that was it: I was done with the farce called "Karate." (In my mind, right up there with soccer and gymnastics...)

A few months ago, however, my friend and close neighbor Hiliary asked Steven if he wanted to join Noah (her son) for a "buddy day" at his Taekwondo class. Since it was free we were totally up for it, and so, ofcourse, being me, I proceeded to forget to write it down and we forgot to go; but, Hil and Noah, being the gracious type forgave us and told us that we could still come to a free class. We did and it was FANTASTIC. Steven was offered 6 weeks for $50 to try it out. It totally sounded like a scam, but hey, for the summer it was better than comforting him in the early mornings, soaked with pool water and tears, shivering in a speedo. For Steven, once he was kicking, making moves and Karate yells he said sayonara to swimteam and has never looked back.

Getting him to go to class was/is never an issue, he likes it. We signed him up for a year at the end of the six-weeks intro to continue his progress. He likes the events that they offer and he likes the teachers and the children (and some of the teachers are children). He loved their Summer camp, their game day (all day gaming from 2-10 with pizza and snacks and... yes, I mentioned it, all day gaming. :)). He is nurtured and dealt with kindly; he's rewarded for hard work, but never falsely; he's respected and taught well.

This week he is testing for his orange belt. He's advancing enough to get his sparring equipment which is an important rite of passage for the kids. In a few weeks he will be joining the group for their annual Halloween party because they really know how to have plain old fun. And then, come November he'll be attending his first tournament. It's all very exciting and it's wonderful to see him pursuing something that he likes and does well.

Steven's Sick

2009-09-28T13:33:00.000-07:00

Steven Adds

2009-09-26T06:45:00.000-07:00

I was given a Saxon math book several years ago. I think it might have been Kevin's old book that Linda let me borrow, and you know how it goes: What comes to Karen, if she likes it, stays with Karen.

I put it in my book bin and when I cleaned it out like I always do in the summer, I realized that Steven would be in 5th grade this year. I had an actual textbook that would be appropriate to his age. I was very excited.

I love Saxon for the main reason most people (who like it) do: it's practical and it makes sense. Steven learns a new math challenge every time we open the book and all the while it is a review of what he's already learned. I was worried about starting him into a 5th grade math curriculum when he has not had any kind of organized learning in math concepts, but he seems to take to it quite well and understands what's being asked of him.

I think at this point it comes down to memorizing math facts which is something we drill on the days we "do school," and then, going page by page as time allows. He already "gets it," it's just going to take time to memorize the basics.

Steven Digs and... Acts!

2009-09-23T03:23:00.001-07:00

Yesterday afternoon Steven joined in with a group at the local Metro Park and took a class called "Subterranean Safari." Here he is digging for bugs and taking notes.

Afterward we picked Lea up from school and headed to the library where Steven joined in with Theater Workshop they offer every other week. He loved working with his teacher, Michael:

And was happy to meet another 11 year-old boy who was there who enjoys acting as much as Steven and who is just as silly.

Steven Sews

2009-09-22T15:45:00.000-07:00

Steven joined his teacher, "Creatrix Jane," for a morning of sewing.

This is Steven's first real experience with the machine and he is a natural. He loved the class and can't wait to do more.

I want to let "Jane" know, he said he wishes he lived in your house :)

Steven Spells

2009-09-21T03:37:00.000-07:00

I've been using Spelling Power with my kids for a long time, I really don't even know when we started using it but it was on recommendation from my sister, Linda. Linda has been homeschooling since the beginning of time and has lots of good advice.

My kids are all naturally good spellers and readers. At school our daughter Lea was tested as "gifted" in this area and it really doesn't surprise me (I'm not sure what that means, but it was on a letter with a diagram that we received from the school. I guess it means she's a smartypants, which isn't big news.). My older two children started reading quite early all on their own, and Steven started reading later, but again, on his own. I read to all the kids as they were growing, from the time they were infants, but I never "taught" them to read.

A curiosity is this though: None of them read voraciously. None of them really enjoy perusing fiction regularly. They like short stories and articles in magazines; they all read well and comprehend well, but none pursue it with a passion. I have a theory that they would probably enjoy high literature, but haven't taken the time to read it with them. Perhaps the future will prove my theory correct once they are in college.

But, they do/did like Spelling Power. All of them enjoyed this book and I use it mainly as a brush-up because spelling correctly has been important to the older kids, and now to Steven, my token homeschooler.

I've tailored it to fit our very laid-back way of educating. I don't force Steven to write because in my experience, asking a boy to write is like asking him to pull his arm hair out with tweezers. It's tedious and there is lots of moaning and writhing going. So instead, we sit down with the book and I ask the word and he verbally spells it. If he misses a word, he does use the sheets (yes, writing) that I have copied from the book to help him to learn the word(s) he's missed. To my way of thinking that is a wonderful method to learn: teaching yourself what you don't know and cutting out the busy-work.

There are games and activities suggestions if we need the support, and also, in the newer version, there is a cd-rom option now.

Steven Letterboxes

2009-09-19T03:38:00.001-07:00

We were invited to go letterboxing with friends yesterday:

Letterboxing

BIG fun and so was getting lost in the woods :). Thank godnesss for friends who remember cameras ~ this pic was take by T. Thanks for sending!

Steven Shines

2009-09-18T05:00:00.001-07:00

Steven Asks

2009-09-17T06:14:00.000-07:00

Steven is curious and asks lots of questions about lots of things. I've found that it's in the car where we have our most interesting discussions, where so much is revealed about the both of us and it's a key place where the intimacy of the homeschooling relationship is developed. It occurs to me sometimes that it is so unique... and brief, so it is something to be served and nurtured. I realize this especially because I have a child in school and one at home. It changes when they leave.

And it could also be his stage in life, but there is a deep abiding trust that my words are integral to his current understanding of the world, and so I take his questions very seriously. He is a growing boy.

My mom used to hold the tiny hands of my oldest son when he was a toddler and say, "Look at these," as she would caress his little fingers, "one day these will do a man's work." It was amazing for us to imagine, this stranger, this miniature "other" becoming a man. I think about her holding those hands often these days as I walk this razor's edge of figuring out when to speak and when to be silent, when to teach and when to allow Steven to roam on his own. I understand what she was telling me though, and it is not just with hands that a boy will become a man, but with his mind and his heart. I choose to approach this with a delicacy and an intention. I am his first love. I am his first relationship with his "other."

There are days that I can't schedule learning. It just arrives, and it's when the questions are lingering, the motivation and inspiration are there, I've found that (and this was a long time process for me) I must veer toward the thing he is asking, not the thing that I think he ought to be learning. He, as a man in the making, knows what he needs to know. His thought is directed by millions of years of purpose and determination. I choose to trust that.

When he began to ask me recently about the facts of life, I knew that math and social studies had to be put to the side. I realized he was basically asking the oldest question in the world, "Where did I come from? Why am I here..."

I easily answered a lot of his questions. There isn't anything in me that feels uncomfortable speaking with him about anything he asks, but I wanted him to know that he can learn on his own, too. Because the subject is so personal and I honor a person's natural modesty (that seems to me is so often ignored or exploited in this culture), I asked him if he would like to read a book about it, too, and he was eager. One with pictures, please :).

So, I offered him this book and I really recommend it to parents who have children who like quiet corners to read on their own as much as they enjoy discussion. It is for girls and just as much for boys, which is not always easy to find:

http://www.powells.com/biblio/62-9780810991620-0

Steven Works Out

2009-09-17T03:54:00.000-07:00

Steven started gym class with Q yesterday. It was a pretty intense experience because of the size of the class. I tried to count the kids, but all I figured out was that there were a lot of them. He misses his buddy Mason.

He was forlorn when he said, "Gym without Mason is like School without Mike in the Twilight books."

Oh. Ok.

... erm..., what?

Steven explained, "It's not the same without the showoff." Ahh, gotcha. But afterward, when I asked him how it went, he said he was hungry. So there you go. Life continues.

Here he is sweaty, with teacher, Q:

Steven Rolls

2009-09-16T03:27:00.000-07:00

The week is going well so far, fitting in actual school has been a bit of a problem though. We are incredibly busy with life to figure out a time to sit down and do flash cards, but I found out that last week when I put it on the calendar we managed it much better. It's hard for me to get used to, and for Steven, as well. Academics...or at least scheduled academics has never been a priority for us. Steven just learned stuff. He woke up and he caught a whiff of something that would interest him and he'd learn about it. Great concept, but not great preparation for someone who wants to pursue a more organized approach to learning, like online schooling. I'm finding that there is really nothing wrong with this if it suits a personality and with Steven, we'll see how it goes. He does seem receptive to it and I'm fairly organized. We'll just put it on the calendar from now on.

Yesterday we met with some homeschooling friends to organize field trips and playdates. It was very nice and good to meet some new people and young friends. We have several volunteers and it looks like we're going to have some fun. We already have a pretty full schedule, but Steven wants to stay busy and see people, so here we are. How can I be anything but grateful? The kid is open and ready to adventure. Ok, little dude, I'm down.

First day of Steven's gym class starts today at the center.
I have work scheduled in the afternoon; and yes, math and spelling are scheduled, too. :)

Steven Wisdom

2009-09-14T13:02:00.000-07:00

"Asking people on television to help you with a relationship problem is like asking a walrus to poop goat cheese."

Word.

Steven Cooks

2009-09-14T10:41:00.000-07:00

Steven is learning to cook. He was going to take a cooking class at the rec center but it was canceled. I figure he can learn to cook at home just as well. Last week he made Apple Crisp. Today we made Chili:

Chopping jalapenos. He wanted to do it and I was like, Dude, are you sure? he was like, Oh I'll be fine mom. (He is at present blowing on his hot fingers and just put away a cold compress he had been applying to his face.) CALIENTE. Chop with caution:

Chili. Full of peppers, veggies, meat. Steven has decided he is going to be a vegetarian but this was after we made the chili. He said he wants to explore the idea that animals are his equal. Yes Steven, I understand, but you are not chopped up in a crockpot of chili:

Daisy, Steven's dog, who waits while he cooks. The kitchen smells amazing and Daisy is waiting for a taste...maybe.... (please...)..?

Steven Parties

2009-09-14T10:37:00.000-07:00

Steven as "Bandito" with his cousin, Zack. This is at his grandpa's 75th birthday fiesta:

Steven Goes Fishing and Builds Stuff

2009-09-14T10:07:00.000-07:00

I took Steven fishing one afternoon at an organized event at the local Metro Parks. He didn't catch anything, but had fun waiting:

And making friends with the bait:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last week, Steven and I went to a science museum to sign up for Science and Art classes and we spent the day in the museum playing. We had the place almost entirely to ourselves for hours. We've spent quite a bit of time there over the years and they know us from homeschooling events so they let us roam freely. Steven is striking a pose for the Infrared camera:

Here he is taking a "cloud" class with one of the Senior education teachers:

And here is a piece of heaven for us: playing with Snap Circuits. We made an FM radio (Finally. This has been an ongoing challenge..). It was great because we had the sets all to ourselves and it hadn't been rifled through yet, so everything was neat and organized:

Steven Paints

2009-09-14T10:03:00.000-07:00

Steven went to an art show where the work of some of his favorite artist friends and their children was displayed. Happily they set up an art table for the children to make their own artwork there, and here is Steven making a painting of his character, Dr. Octogonapus:

Steven Supports

2009-09-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

Steven is here with his dad and sister after his dad ran a half-marathon. Steven finds great enjoyment in supporting his people and he is always eager for any adventure:

Steven Chops

2009-09-14T09:56:00.000-07:00

Steven received his yellow belt in Taekwondo! Here he is with his dad.

Steven Blogs

2009-09-14T09:35:00.000-07:00

This blog will consist mostly of photos of extracurricular and activities that Steven attends and enjoys. He is very funny and says very random things so I will include quotes and stories sometimes. I may include some academics for his teacher who assesses him, or for Steven to look back on to remember what he was studying (I don't remember learning in school, I just remember friends and the books I read), and then again, I may not. It depends on how it evolves.

Steven was born at home on July 4th, 1998. In America, this date is a celebration and a National holiday in recognition of the signing of a document called The Declaration of Independence which affirmed America's independence from Great Britain. On a smaller scale, for us, when Steven was born at 12:05am on July 4th it always seemed appropriate that Steven came to us on this day because he has always been an independent sort of person. But to explain, he is not obstinate or difficult or even rebellious; but he is naturally creative, interested (and very interesting), thoughtful and so curious. And hopefully this is not sounding platitudinous, but as I've searched myself over the years in getting to know him it's certain to me that Steven's the one person I know whose heart is truly free.

The ages of 11-12 has always seemed to me to be a magical time in the growth of a child, almost the epoch of childhood innocence, playfulness and curiosity. Not that it all goes down from here, it just changes; but I wanted to capture what I could of this brief occasion, and commit to being totally present to him while I am here in this time with Steven.