The Grammar Commando Visits

Actually I shouldn't really be the Grammar Commando, because I'm really not that picky about grammar as long as you say what you mean to say. (I'm all in favor of splitting infinitives and dangling prepositions like fish bait.) It's the unintentionally humorous misspellings that get me.

Like this one: "I will email you privetly."

THIS is privet:

I guess a "privet" email would be like the little hedge postbox in Little Women.

An email sent to an individual rather than a list would be a private email.

Guest Post at Faith Permeating Life

I have a guest post on "What Marriage Means to Me" over at Faith Permeating Life today. Thanks for the opportunity, Jessica!

And I'm going to post a real post over here soon, I promise. DOB's parents are visiting and things have been busy.

Anniversaries

Easter, despite being a movable holiday, has become an important anniversary for us, and one whose significance has grown over the years.

It was the day, nine years ago, that we got engaged. It was the night before Easter, three years ago, when we began a line of questioning and seeking that would take us far afield and bring us home again. It was Easter last year that we invited our children to join us as part of Christ's body.

This year on Easter, we officially joined the church we have been attending for the past year and a half. It probably looked like a pretty obvious step for many--one lady commented she had thought we had been members all along. We show up for all the services, we read and sing and teach. But for us it was a big step to join, to state that we had found a place and a people we were confident enough to commit.

Growing up in the more conservative sort of evangelicalism, I always thought the mainline churches were just "country clubs" where people didn't really believe all that any more, but just went to church out of habit. I'm sure there are many that are like that. But we've found a place where the Good News is still proclaimed faithfully, and where we can hear it and live it in a generous way that has room for struggles and differences.

One phrase that was new to me on coming into the Lutheran tradition is "remembering your baptism." The Lutheran view of baptism is that of God acting through the water, setting his seal on us. Instead of being challenged to try harder, to recommit our lives, to promise God more, we remember that God already did it all, we recognize that God has guided us this far, we look for how God is working now, we know that it's still all God.

So today I'm remembering with gratitude the way God has spoken to me, through the places I have been, through the churches I have attended, through my baptism when I was eight, through my parents' teaching, through God's people and His world and people who don't see God as I do but have yet grown my faith anyway. 'Tis grace has brought us safe thus far, and grace shall lead us home.

It's All About Timing

Last night was the Maundy Thursday service, which involves foot washing and solemn music and prayers.

Well, there was a lighter, if slightly awkward moment, during the children's sermon when the pastor, trying to illustrate the drama of Jesus' washing the disciples' feet, asked, "If the President were here, would you let him wash your feet?"

Whereupon one young boy piped up, "No, I wouldn't, 'cause I don't like the President, cause he lied this one time and . . . " (Our church is, I suspect, politically diverse but definitely not one where politics comes up in conversation much.)

But everyone expects lighter moments during the children's sermon and especially from this kid, who had also volunteered, when the pastor asked for examples of unimportant jobs, "Pastor!"

So the service had moved on to quiet, solemn prayers and music and it was to end with DOB singing a song, which I was supposed to accompany, and then, just at the last verse of the last song before it, Dot uttered those five little words which no mother of preschoolers delays to respond to for anything.

Still, perhaps there was time. So I swooped her up silently, figuring to steal rapidly out the back and return before the current round of music and prayers were done.

Only I neglected to calculate on the life-sized cross propped in the back of the sanctuary. As I swooped Dot out of the room, I clonked her forehead full-on against the cross-piece. Fortunately she was so startled and intrigued by the suddenly falling cross that she didn't actually scream, but then I had an urgently-needing-to-depart preschooler and a large crashing wooden object on my hands and the music running out.

I propped it up long enough to last until some attentive folks came to properly right in and then I dashed onward and got all my laughs out while Dot was in the bathroom and walked serenely back in just in the nick of time.

Thoughts on Cleaning Off My Desk

AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

So that's why I couldn't find any pencils.

I hope the IRS never audits me.

No bag in the shredder and I bought the wrong kind of bags at the grocery store. I am thwarted by myself at every turn.

Found the timer. If I could find the camera cord too, it might be worth all the suffering.

I hate Sunday School teachers. And everyone else who gives children anything but nutritious food that is consumed immediately, with no wrappers. I guess that makes the Costco aisle ladies my only friends.

The sun is shining! The children are playing outside! I can see my desk!

I never did find the camera cord.

More Things I Don't Say on Homeschool Message Boards

RC: Use curriculum XYZ! We love it!!

SQOC: Boy, one or two exclamation points wouldn't have done it but that third one clinches it: even without any reasoning or explanation, I am convinced that this is the right choice for my family. I'll run right out and buy it.

Original Poster: My 6yo son does [randomly-chosen behavior].
RC: My son does that, too! It must be a boy thing!
SQOC: Yes, because two small boys are a representative sample of the one billion of them on the planet sufficient to deduce a gender stereotype.

RC: I have always done [insert family habit] and my children have never [insert undesirable behavior in question], so I'm pretty sure that's what did it.
SQOC: Have you ever studied logic? I have, and that's why my children have never committed an ax murder. You should definitely try it.

RC: Whenever we come across something about millions of years in a book, I ask my children, "How old is the earth really?" and they shout out "6000 years!"
SQOC: Right, a knee-jerk recitation of dogma is the best way to begin a lifetime of critical thinking.

Green Things Growing

For the week that began two weeks ago, it snowed every day. Every day. Granted, it only stuck sporadically, but still. St. Patrick's Day! It should not snow on St. Patrick's Day!

The coming of the first day of spring did not look too promising, but spring managed to come anyway. The last few days have been sunny and on occasion even warm. And after a very long hiatus, I have a garden of my own again. Admittedly, right now it consists of a flower bed with a few gaps and some bags of soil. (I'm trying the new method of planting straight in the bag of soil--we'll see how it works.) But we have transplanted the first round of lettuces. I've been raising them from seed on the front porch in little milk jug mini-greenhouses, which seem to have done just fine in spite of the cold. And we planted a row of peas that I am hoping will grow all the way up the porch railing.

Also, His Majesty thinned the raspberries again, and this time I put them right in the ground, in three beautiful rows, so hopefully they will all live. Last year he thinned the raspberries while we were still negotiating on the house, and by the time we had closed on the house and made it habitable and moved in and turned to look out back, most of them had given up on life after two months in a plastic bucket.

And our daffodils are about to bloom, though they seem to be behind everywhere else. We must live in a bit of a cold spot. All the better for growing lettuces.

I haven't seen a rabbit yet this year. Here's hoping.

More Ideals and Reality

(I hate it when I discover I've already used a post title.)

This week has been a long, slow slog of recovery. The kids are doing much better, but the house and I take longer. Especially since recovering kids make for a messy house.

Yesterday Duchess and Deux had spent much of the day cutting apart magazines in the living room. I probably shouldn't allow this in the living room, but there isn't really anywhere else except the kitchen table, which is usually otherwise in use. By late afternoon, the living room was ankle-deep in paper and I was beginning to feel frantic.

One of those cardinal rules of parenting is supposed to be that Children Clean Up Their Own Messes. And usually they do. But this mess was so big, and so deep, and so tall, and I was already so cranky, and they were already so wired, that I knew if I went in and made them clean it up, I would start yelling and we would all be at each other's throats.

So I offered them a choice: Clean it all up, or go outside and play. After a bit of deliberation (quite a bit on Dot's part, who hates being cold), they all opted to go outside and play. They went outside and burned energy. I stayed inside and cleaned in quiet. When they came in, somewhat calmer than they had been, I felt able to tolerate their presence enough to let them help me make pizza.

It wasn't ideal. But it was good.

The Walking Dead

We have recently been experiencing that special form of family bonding known as the stomach flu. (Which, of course, is incorrect, as it has nothing to do with influenza.) For once, everyone got it at once, except for Deux, who had an initial bout the previous weekend, and me, who either had a very minor case early on or who still has it hanging over my head. Everyone came down with it in the middle of the night, though, which I thought was an unnecessary touch.

Lucky us we had the Ma and Pa Kettle collection in from the library. These movies are theoretically set a short distance from here and we have been to the general area. However, the actual sets look suspiciously like California rather than the Olympic Peninsula. (Hint: There'd be a lot more and bigger trees. And it would be raining.) They're pretty corny, but a good choice for the circumstances.

I caught the bad cold Dot already had, just to round things out with lack of sleep. Adding that to nonstop laundry and dishwashing, and matters got so desperate for a couple days that I broke down and bought Plants vs. Zombies. This kept everyone occupied (not always quiet) watching me while they recuperated without straining my throat. Any resemblance to how I looked or felt after the experience is purely coincidental.

Today I'm using it to bribe our way through the mountain of accumulated chores. Deux is designing his own live-action Lego version, but he and Duchess keep getting into arguments over the rules. DOB is back to facing the backlog of work, without his paralegal, who got married on Saturday.

I need to go fold the laundry so we can fight some more zombies.

Something Fishy

This week DOB's Rotary club released a load of hatchlings into a local creek, so we went to watch. The directions we had said "Behind the auto parts store" so we spent some time wandering amongst the machinery and asking befuddled auto parts workers before we realized we were supposed to proceed a couple of blocks up and down a dead end.

Envisioning the release as the opening of a mighty gate and rushing of many waters, we thought we would be too late. But it was a far more labor-intensive process. First the fish had to be loaded into coolers, and trucked up to the creek. Then they were dipped into the creek, a few at a time.

In addition to the ducklings, we had their 20 month old small cousin (SC) along. She is of an altogether different temperament than the ducklings at that age: highly mobile, ready for anything and overjoyed at the prospect of swimming with the fishes and rolling in the mud. Amazingly, she never fell in over her knees.

It turns out salmon hatchlings are really dumb. Even though we made every effort to release them in actual water, a large portion of them immediately made their best effort to swim into the mud. It took quite a while after the initial release to convince as many hatchlings as possible to leave the mud and go where they could actually breathe. And many of them returned to the mud as fast as you threw them in. This diminishes my confidence in the benefits of fish oil for the brain--it doesn't seem to be doing the fish much good.

Nobody fell all the way in and nobody ate a fish, so we will have to go back and do it again.

Things That Happened

* The kids got sick. D3 spent ALL DAY screaming one day, even though she only had a mild fever and no other symptoms. Being half-asleep or half-sick transforms her into this Prima Donna Zombie that cannot be reasoned with, disciplined, cajoled or consoled. Whatever she asks for, she'll scream if she gets it. And she'll scream if she doesn't. It was a long day. I finally put her to bed, sent the other kids to play in the basement, and spent several minutes ripping boxes into shreds until I'd relieved some of the tension.

* DOB surprised me with a trip out of town overnight. Fortunately the kids were recovered enough not to excessively terrorize Their Majesties. It was the first time since our honeymoon that we've been anywhere alone with no work or political activities to attend, and it lasted nearly as long as our honeymoon. It was fabulous. We should probably go on a real honeymoon sometime.

* We came back and the kids were better, except for D4 who kept complaining of stomach pain. Naturally it all got glossed over until he kept waking up in the middle of the night screaming, so we took him to the ER (Wondergirl kindly came and slept on the couch for us) in the middle of the night. Fortunately it was nothing serious, so we took him home and fed him prunes. We're still trying to catch up on sleep.

* His Majesty came and turned the kids' beds back into bunk beds. There's a lot more room in their bedroom now, and the thrill of climbing on new furniture arrangements has kept them very occupied for the past couple of days.

* Inspired by the furniture rearrangement and uninspired by the lack of sleep, I canceled school for the rest of the week and went on a cleaning rampage, with less emotional trauma than is usually present. (The housecleaning advice people never mention what to do about children who are convinced you hate them if you rearrange their special arrangements of random items everywhere.) It went better than it has in the past. Now I need to get up and finish.

The Food With a Thousand Faces

Some people who decide to go vegetarian vow they will eat nothing with a face.

We've decided to add more fish to our diet. That means we're buying a lot more food with its face still attached.

Conveniently, the discount grocery store we frequent has just massively expanded its fish section. This grocery store apparently caters to a large immigrant population, both Hispanic and Asian. (We practice our Spanish by eavesdropping in the produce section.) So a lot of the selections are . . . not what you'd find at Safeway. You can get salmon heads for only 99 cents a pound. I haven't tried that yet.

However, if it costs less than $3 a pound, was caught in the wild, and has enough meat on it that I can throw away the eyeballs, I'm willing to give it a try. I am learning to gut fish--it's not so hard, you just start pulling things out until they stop coming--but I still don't know how to debone. So far we've had mackerel and something called butter fish, plus salmon (minus the heads), of course. Really, everything tastes pretty much the same once you put enough tartar sauce on it.

DOB has mixed feelings about this--on the one hand, eating more fish was his idea. On the other hand, he prefers food in the range from thick stew to thin casserole. Things that can be eaten one-handed, with a spoon, while reading. Having to participate in the dismemberment of his meal does not enhance his dining experience.

The Forest Glades We Wander

A few weeks ago the pastor asked the children during the children's sermon: "Have you guys ever been fishing?"

The ducklings shook their heads no as the other children told of their favorite catches.

"Camping?"

Again, no from the ducklings.

"Duchy children--you don't fish--you don't camp--what do you do?"

"We survive!" I interrupted.

Also, what we do is hike. And the way we hike the fact that we do survive is an accomplishment. Usually we go out in doubtful weather to a park with no maps and poorly-marked trails and hope we'll find our way back. So far we always have. So far no one has suffered a major injury on the trail. Sometimes we've had a fair amount of screaming before we return, but usually if DOB is along he has everyone engrossed in a tale of adventure that leads us onwards.

One of the local parks has a large area of the woods apparently devoted to pellet-gun wars, and some strapping fellows with a lot of time on their hands have engaged in the constructive activity of building acres and acres of fortresses and barricades out of fallen logs. This is naturally a favorite spot, although DOB has, for all but the first thirty seconds, regretted pointing out to the ducklings that they could collect the discarded plastic pellets.

On Thursday I took them to the really scary park--the one with bear warnings and trails that don't match the map--and, although we never quite knew where we were, we did not get lost and nobody screamed and nobody fell in a puddle. And we found some really cool bridges.

How Oral Math Can Go Wrong

QOC (reading from the math page): There are six teaspoons in a set. How many are in two sets?

Deux: 120.

QOC: I mean in the real world, not in your world (in his world, all amounts are automatically ten times greater).

Deux: I did answer in the real world. Oh--did you mean sixteen?

QOC: No, not sixteen. Six. Six teaspoons.

Deux: Right, two sets of sixty spoons is 120.

QOC: Oh. Teaspoons. As in these (holding up teaspoon). Six of these in a set. How many in two sets?

Deux. Oh. Twelve.

Why I Don't Insist on First-Time Obedience

That moment, two and a half years ago, was neither the beginning or the end of the change in my philosophical approach to parenting, but it stands at the apex of the change.

We were still at our old house, where there was a large and lovely park just a block away, but across a busy road. Crossing this road twice was the moment of terror in my daily life. The ducklings were still all under five. Nonetheless, the twins were still in the stroller and the older two stuck close to me, and we generally crossed without incident.

Then came the day when I looked down the road, saw a car coming and then a large clear space after it, and my brain thought, "OK, we can go after this car."

But my brain and my mouth weren't in close gear that day. What came out of my mouth was, "OK, go." And the Duchess went.

The car swerved just in time. Somehow I kept myself mentally together enough to get us along the road and halfway down the block to home. And then I stopped everybody and knelt down with Duchess and Deux and said, "Listen. I know you are generally supposed to obey Mama and Papa and we try to only tell you to do what would be good. But sometimes we mess up. Sometimes we don't know everything. You have to use your own brain, too. And if what we say seems dangerous or doesn't make sense, please, please, stop and ask questions first."

Truth be told, I had never been very good at demanding instant, unquestioning compliance from the children. It's a very linear activity (Do X, Get Y) and my mind is not very linear. But I certainly started out parenting thinking that was what I ought to be doing. When the Duchess and Deux were very small, if they refused an order, we stuck it out, continuing to discipline for however long it would take until they complied.

Only, as we implemented it, it made less and less sense. One of the children simply didn't understand what we were doing--saw no connection between the punishment and the offense. The other, though usually cooperative, seemed to relish punishment as a chance to demonstrate great strength of character under adversity.

Over time, I've come to ask--where did this first time, unquestioning obedience as the ideal of "Biblical parenthood" come from? Did you know the Bible never tells parents to compel their children to obey? It tells the children to obey, yes. But that's a command to the children, not the parents. The command to parents is first of all not to provoke them, and secondly to nurture and admonish them. Nothing about compelling compliance. Or the first time.

I don't want my children obeying me as if I were God. Because I'm not God. I make mistakes. I forget promises I made. I don't know everything. And I am not going to be with them all the days of their life. What I hope for them as they grow up is that they will be self-controlled, make wise decisions, and talk to God for themselves. Obedience to parents at best is a very limited and temporary stage on the way to that.

Now, this is not the same as letting the children walk all over us. They still need guidance and limits. But I give those guidelines not as their divinely-appointed superior, but as a fellow traveler with a bit more experience.

What I work towards is an atmosphere of mutual respect, where they do what's right because it is right, not because I said so, and where they comply with matters of health and safety because they've learned why, and where they comply with regulations for the smooth running of the household because we've worked together to find a way that works for all of us. Yes, there are exceptions where there isn't a time or place to explain, or where they're not ready to understand fully yet. But the 95% or more that is based on working together makes that part more palatable.

I don't, except in a true emergency, expect them to drop everything when I bark out an order. I wouldn't want them to treat me that way. Setting the table can wait until they've come to the end of the chapter. We can pick a mutually agreeable time to finish playing at the park. I want them to start thinking this way because someday I'm not going to be around telling them what to do and when to do it.

Yes, sometimes the discussions get a little long and convoluted. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be easier if they all just meekly did what I said whenever I said it without asking why or making counter proposals. But our relationship is good and they are growing in maturity and self-control. I see exercises in initiative, good judgment, and self-discipline that are far more meaningful than obedience ever could be.

When there's a behavior issue, I try to stop and look for why first. I've found that their best characteristics are also their worst--defiance is the flip side of natural leadership; hysteria the flip side of a vivid imagination. The challenge is not punishing bad behavior, but helping them learn to direct their strengths in the right way. Usually what I need to do is not deal out consequences, but rebuild the relationship and then provide vision and guidance.

I do realize that some of this is because the children are a little older and more capable of reason and guidance. But at 6 and 7 even Deux and Duchess are still well within the "Because I Said So" range in most people's books. And even with smaller children, I would do it differently. I look back now to the time I spent nearly an hour making the fourteen-month-old Duchess sit down in a chair she wanted to stand up in. Now, I'd just pick her up and move her out of the chair. It's not giving in, but it's also not trying to make a battle out of it. Because I don't need to win; I need to keep her safe and help her grow in understanding.

Note: I am not a parenting expert. Nothing in the post should be construed to constitute parenting advice. This is merely a reflection on personal experiences and philosophy and is not intended to be prescriptive. Results may vary. Past performance is no guarantee of future results.

Snarky Things I Want to Say on Homeschool Forums

But never actually do.

Random Commenter: "Im wondring if I should get a spelling cirriculum."

Snarky QOC: Of course! They say it's never too late to learn. Oh . . . did you mean for your kids? (Note that I do not immediately assume the children would be better off in school. I've read worse from school teachers.)

RC: My four-year-old is getting really stressed out over school. He cries and says he doesn't want to do the worksheets. He still doesn't know all his letters even though we've been working on them since he was two. What can I do to help him love learning?"

SQOC: A three-year supply of tranquilizers. Not for him, for you. He actually loves learning and can't figure out why you're making him do squiggles on paper when he could be doing something truly educational like disassembling the dishwasher or turning the living room into a ninja fortress/train station.

RC: I don't think it's worthwhile for my daughter to spend time studying (higher math/ philosophy/ business skills) when we are raising her to be a "keeper at home."

SQOC: Yes, because we all know of God's promise in Hezekiah 3:14 "Thou shalt grant to the woman of virtue a husband of great wealth for all the days of her life," as well as that profound insight in Cappadocians 2:27, "Let thy women be of feeble mind, that they may be more easily duped."

RC: Character is more important than academics. What good will it be for our children to know algebra if they don't know Jesus?

SQOC: So, ten years from now when your child can't get a decent job because they don't have the requisite skills, are you going to keep telling him it's because of Jesus? *That* should keep him in the faith. And since when does slacking off on your work show good character?

RC: It just occurred to me today that instead of just reading the textbook about birds, we could go outside and watch some real birds. Do you think this would be OK? It might mess up our schedule.

SQOC: First you're going to need to fill out a "Request to Deviate from Arbitrary Program" form in triplicate and send it to the publisher, curriculum provider, and randomly-selected educational official. In three months when you get the results back, you can figure out how many weeks of school you'll need to make up in penance for daring to learn something real instead of getting it third-hand.

Winter Wonderland

We spent the long weekend in the mountains with some friends from DOB's law school days and their assorted increase (though none have increased quite so much as us).

A few days before, our Organizer-In-Chief (who did a fabulous job) sent out an email noting that snow was expected. Well, it was up among the foothills, so this was not surprising. The kids went into raptures and I went into the basement to find snow gear. Much to my surprise, I was able to assemble a complete outfit for each of the kids. This turned out to be a good thing.

Anyway, we had a lovely time in the very elegant setting, and the kids had a great time shrieking and chasing each other around the pillars and up and down the marble staircase. The first day the snow fell elegantly but to little accumulation, but Sunday was definitively snowy, with the fluffy, moist snow that makes ideal snow sculptures, which we proceeded to make and follow up with hot cocoa and everything else necessary for an idyllic snowy day.

That afternoon, conversation turned to the impending departure--we were at the end of a long partly gravel road, and it was downhill all the way to the interstate. Most of our friends are from farther south and were not confident about driving in the snow. DOB volunteered to demonstrate his midwestern snow-driving skills for the benefit of one of the other guys. They headed out. About forty-five minutes later the other guy showed up at the door. Going downhill had worked fine, and DOB had masterly avoided all sliding except as he chose. However, coming back uphill hadn't worked at all. DOB waited in the car for some evening visitors with four-wheel drive and chains.

After supper I decided to make a few more preparations for departure. There were quite a few eggs left, so I thought I would boil some to take for our lunch on the way home. I set them on to boil and went into the next room to chat. Some time--quite some time--later, DOB went into the kitchen to get water and called out, "Is this supposed to be exploding in here?" Sure enough, I had left the eggs merrily boiling until they had boiled dry, and the eggs were beginning to explode. We doused them with water, and then everyone had to come and admire the effect. Apparently most of them did not know you could make eggs explode. (As Atomic Robo would say, "Sooner or later, everything explodes.")

In the morning we parceled our bags out among the other departers, who sledded down to more level ground. We bundled the kids off and hiked down the hill (it had been a seven minute walk for me at a brisk clip earlier in the morning to fetch things) to the car in six inches of snow. DOB assigned them all roles as hobbits and styled himself as Gandalf, facing Mount Caradhras. I could never quite decide whether I should be Legolas or Boromir. Then it was a simple matter of repacking the car, ungearing the kids, and reloading everyone in the heavy snow, before we could proceed slowly, but without further incident, to the freeway.

In short, a good time was had by all, and we have maintained our reputations.

There was a little snow left here when we got home, but not much. Supposedly we're supposed to get a whole lot more tomorrow. We shall see. At least we have enough snow pants.

Assorted Happenings

* Last Wednesday we went for our weekly informal-homeschool-hiking-day with the only other family brave enough to head out in a complete downpour. Naturally it was the week we decided to go to the big, scary woods and we got quite lost. The twins were in hysterics and even Duchess was pretty upset because she had worn a very long skirt and it had fallen in a few puddles and she was soaked. However, we all got home and dry and this weekend Duchess and I finally made it to the thrift store and found her some pairs of jeans that fit. Tomorrow we can do it again! (It's not supposed to rain tomorrow, though.)

* On Friday we were hoping to have a Christmas play with the cousins, but it had to be cancelled because of sickness. Nothing daunted, the kids staged their own with impromptu costumes. This is the first year the twins have really gotten into acting, and they baaa'd very convincingly from under their white afghans. Duchess was the angel of the Lord in a pink afghan and sword, and Deux was Herod, wearing a pink tiara under protest because no other crown could be found on short notice.

* While we were at the thrift store I found a shirt I really, really loved. The only trouble was it had french cuffs and no cuff linky things to go with them. My grandma reminded me I could make my own out of buttons. So I dug through the old button bin and found two that were close but not the same (because that would be boring!). Then the kids commandeered all my plastic containers to sort out the rest of the buttons, and then made labels for each container, and I had nothing to put up leftovers with and there are buttons hidden in strange places all around the living room and bedroom.

* Then on Sunday I finally went to do some overdue shoe-shopping (chiropractor's orders) and wound up not only replacing my running-around-town-with-the-kids shoes, but also my cute-little-flats shoes and my cool-boot shoes. That's a third of my shoe wardrobe replaced in one fell swoop. However, it's very unusual for me to find shoes that I actually like, and two of the pairs were on clearance. And the shoes I replaced were mostly older than any of the children.

* In other long-overdue-things news, we finally got the electrician in to put lights in the basement! It's like adding on a third of the house! Now I have no excuse for not organizing it. Except that it's organizing. And a basement.

* A few months ago, a judge commented to DOB that he looked like he came from the Midwest. He's been growing his hair out ever since. So for awhile he looked like he came from Berkeley instead, but he has found an added benefit of keeping the back of his neck warm. Yesterday he finally found a hairstyle that keeps his neck warm and looks really good. Really, really good. I think it's time he came back home now.

Notwithstanding

my aversion to New Year's Resolutions, here are some things I would like to make happen this year:

Organize and upgrade the basement to the point that the kids will play in it.

Tidy and then maintain the landscaping immediately around the house. Add something edible somewhere.

Do at least one art and/or science project with the kids each week, without slacking on the basics.

Create an outline and do background research on the historical fantasy novel I've been wanting to write for years.

Read two books written before 1 A.D. Three books written between 1 A.D. and 1600 A.D. Four books written between 1600 A.D. and 1900 A.D. (Bible doesn't count; books read to kids don't count.)

Find a consistent time and plan for devotions separate from preparing Bible lessons for the kids.

Do enough legal work to keep my business profitable and find a direction and make a long-term plan for it.

Go for a walk three times a week; do a strength workout at least once a week; stretching/alignment exercies every day.

Maintain a monthly calendar so I can actually see what's coming before it hits me.

Serve vegetables or fruits for afternoon snack three days a week.

Lacto-ferment something once a month.

2011 in Review

Borrowed from me two years ago. Some answers haven't changed. Some have.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you'd never done before?

Started a business. Played in a bell choir. Painted a house. Potty-trained twins.

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don't do New Year's resolutions.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth or get pregnant?

My brother and sister-in-law had their fifth. DOB's sister is expecting her first.

4. Did anyone close to you get married?

DOB's sister.

5. Did anyone close to you die?

My weird aunt. DOB's grandfather.

6. Travel?

Very little. Just our get-out-of-the-house-or-bust trip in November.

7. Did you move anywhere?

We moved into our own house in May.

8. What was the best month?

I think August was pretty nice: calm, somewhat settled in, not too hectic. November had its nice points, too.

9. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

Time to concentrate. On something.

10. What date(s) from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

June 14 (day my aunt died).

11. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Working and homeschooling and staying sane--in fact, feeling saner.

12. What was your biggest failure?

Losing a major contract.

13. Did you suffer illness or injury?

There was the stomach flu of eternal doom that afflicted us all for the first few months of the year. That was . . . nasty. DOB sprained an ankle.

14. What was the best thing you bought?

I was going to put "my Nook," and then I thought, what about the house? Well, that wasn't a personal expenditure.

15. Whose behavior merited celebration?

DOB, for persevering through starting a new career, building a business, and still having energy to interact with his family.

16. Whose behavior made you appalled and/or depressed?

Previous occupants of this house, who apparently smoked indoors and drank outdoors (and then smashed the bottles); grew things in the basement; and tossed dead pets with the rest of the garbage into the bushes.

On very rare occasions, the children did something stunning. Like knocking over the Christmas tree. On top of a pile of library books. Not quite appalling, though.

17. Where did most of your money go?

Most of the money I personally earned went to putting large payments on our credit cards. Which are nearing the bottom.

18. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Starting "real" homeschooling. Practicing law.

19. What song will always remind you of 2011?

"I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas"

20. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder?
ii. richer or poorer?

i. Happier, for the most part. We are beginning to fulfill goals. I think I'm finding a bit better balance. Maybe. I can eat things besides chicken broth and yogurt.
ii. And, by the same token, a bit richer. Well, closer to zero.

21. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Organizing the basement. It's a scary, scary place down there.

22. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Taken people potty. And zipped coats. The closer children get to not being helpless, the more annoying their continuing helplessness is.

23. How will you be spending New Year's Eve/Day?

We have already spent them.

24. What was an unexpected surprise?

Everything. I am easily surprised.

25. Did you fall in love in 2011?

Only with new projects.

26. What was the best concert you've been to this year?

I didn't go to any concerts, but we did take the Duchess to The Sound of Music, which was fun.

27. What was your favorite TV program?

LOST. Yes, I'm always five years behind the times.

28. Do you dislike anyone now that you didn't dislike this time last year?

Jack in LOST. Arrogant, reckless, god complex. And still presented as a hero.

29. What was the best book you read?

Blackout and All Clear by Connie Willis. (They're really just one long book split into two, so I will count both.) Honorable mention to The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold. In non-fiction, The Talent Code by Daniel Coyle. I have not read enough old books this year.

30. What was your greatest musical discovery?

How easy it is to learn cool new folksongs using Youtube videos.

31. What did you want and get?

Children who were potty-trained. A home of our own. Work.

32. What did you want and not get?

Children who are completely self-sufficient. A home with enough rooms. Work.

33. What was your favorite film of this year?

Since my peanut gallery says Neverwhere was a miniseries, not a movie, I will say Serenity. It is one of the most recent, though, so it could have an unfair advantage because of my poor memory.

34. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I was 33, and I played cards.

35. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Nobody I knew dying.

36. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Adding classy quirkiness.

37. What kept you sane?

Reading and taking walks for as long as I could. (This is always the answer.)

38. What political issue stirred you the most?

When I thought about it, the Occupy X movement annoyed me. So I tried not to think about it.

39. Who did you miss?

My weird aunt. My mom.

40. Random Memories from 2011?

The flu that would not die. Having the children baptized. Scrubbing walls in between potty runs. Feeling like a real lawyer for the first time. Hiking with the ducklings. Actually organizing a term of school and following through.