Bill’s all set to win some stuffed toys for the girls next time a carnival comes through town.

His job requires him in the office by 6 AM. Since “rush-hour” begins in this area before 5 am, he needs to leave here between 515 and 530 am to get there in time. Last night, not atypically, he got home at 8 pm. By the time he walked the dog, ate dinner, and glanced through the mail, it was time for bed. This is our sad, usual routine which affords us about 6 hours of sleep before the alarms start going off at 4 am.

Alarms…with an “s”.

Bill is a heavy sleeper normally, and when he routinely gets only 6 hours of it, there is no way he will respond to one alarm the first time it goes off. He once had a roommate who would immediately wake up and get out of bed at the first alarm. Bill’s solid 45 minutes of hitting the snooze button drove him crazy. Heck, 45 minutes of interrupted sleep drives me crazy too, and he starts getting jabbed in the ribcage after the second or third snooze alarm. I’ve even been known to push him out of bed or use other even more impolite methods to make him get up. And there is no way I would tolerate the alarm going off at 330 am so he could be sure to be up by 415 am, especially now that I try to get up with him and go for a run while he’s getting ready for work.

So, his solution is to have multiple alarms going off in a carefully orchestrated sequence beginning at 4 am. He has a total of 4 alarms on 3 different clocks with 2 different snooze intervals. Basically, we have alarms going off every 2 or 3 minutes, instead of the usual snooze interval of 5 to 9 minutes. Although he is no less exhausted, he is usually irritated enough that he gets up within 15 minutes.

Whatever it takes.

Hence every morning he spends 15 minutes honing his skills at rapidly smacking his various alarms in order to silence the one that is making the racket. Perhaps the carnivals don’t offer Whack-a-Clock, but I’m sure Bill will do just fine at Whack-a-Mole.

I think I need to reconsider the Abeka Language Arts program I’m using.

Abeka is OK. They are fundamentalist Christian types. I don’t mind if the kids are learning the calendar in Math and for December, they talk about the birth of Christ and show Nativity scenes. It’s nice.

This is the first year that my curriculum calls for Abeka in Science. I don’t mind that it says “God gave us eyes to see…etc.” It’s nice.

I decided to also use their Language Arts, on the recommendation of my very good friend and fellow homeschooler, whose oldest daughter is in the 6th grade. This friend is a devout Catholic and a former schoolteacher. I trust her judgment. I need a grammar program outside of what my curriculum offers, because I fear the standardized tests that are required by the state. My kids must pass! Grammar is a big component of these tests.

Today, Fritz will learn that the months of the year and the days of the week are always capitalized. He has already learned that the word “I” is capitalized. He will practice on sentences like: I was saved on the first Friday in July. And: All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

Hmmm….maybe I’ll go browse over at Seton later.

I just got a forwarded email about Kotex-brand feminine products which apparently were offering tips on the pull-off adhesive backing strips for how to have a better, healthier time of the month. I can not confirm or deny the existence of these friendly ideas, since I don’t use that brand. According to the email, drinking extra water, avoiding caffeine, and getting exercise were all suggested as ways to feel better.

You can imagine that the female author of this email was not in support of these tips and felt that eating chocolate, curling up in a fetal position and crying was a much better way to handle the hormonal cycles. The author also suggested that providing Pamprin and a shot of Bourbon in the packages (which she also felt should be plainly wrapped and not all colorful and flowery) was a much better marketing tool…and she considered switching to the Always brand instead.

Well, I happen to use the Always brand when I need to, and I can tell you that a few weeks ago, I was pretty annoyed by what I found on their adhesive-backing strips:

“Have a happy period.”

WHAT?

Who in the world thought THAT was a good idea to put there?

First of all, even if you happen to be grateful that you are not pregnant, exactly what is happy about shedding your uterine lining? Cramping, bloating, mood swings…and I’m really not going to get into details about the blood, since I’m sure that 99% of the people who read this blog know what I’m talking about.

This is not a happy time, even if, as I said, you are happy to not be pregnant.

And then it got me thinking about how many many women are NOT happy to not be pregnant. How many women who peel that adhesive-backing are actually very sad that they have not conceived? How many women have suffered through years of infertility and every period is a reminder of what they don’t have?

How many women are suffering a miscarriage when they see those words? So sorry you lost a baby…but turn that frown upside down! Ridiculous.

I can just imagine the conference room and the ad guys and gals hanging around and brainstorming over take-out Chinese. You know, Kotex has these cute little tips on their adhesive-backings…we need to come up with something too. And then they think of their customers: females between the ages of 13 to 50 – a very disparate group. And yes, likely, a very high percentage of these females (I really can’t call a 13 year old a women) are not seeking pregnancy (hopefully zero percent of those between the ages of 13 and 18 are). In fact, perhaps, these ad people don’t know anybody who really wants to be pregnant.

Children are, after all, such a burden…

Well, I second the motion to add a little shot of Bourbon to each package. That, and maybe a prayer card for patience with annoying packaging…

I was at a birthday party the other day, and the mom was lamenting not having had time to work on her child’s baby book. Baby book? That’s why I blog!

Fritz: I only have one more sentence to write and then I’m…DA DA DA DONE!

(Like Beethoven’s Fifth (not 9th like I said earlier, thank you, Barb) – it was cute.)

Unfortunately, he is making this pronouncement at nearly 3 pm. And he’s done with his writing, but we still need to read the rest of Lief the Lucky which I’ve been reading in bits and pieces today to break up the sheer monotony of hearing myself tell him over and over to finish doing his work.

ugh.

This is the one thing about homeschooling that really grates me. Why can’t he just be happy to learn? What’s so hard about copying a few sentences or reading a few paragraphs? I always loved schoolwork. Seriously. I would race to see how fast I could do math worksheets. I would go through books faster than Gutenburg could print them.

OK. I was a dork.

And Fritz doesn’t hate all of school. He likes history, geography, and science. Those are the subjects where mom reads him interesting stuff.

He doesn’t mind memorizing poems or Greek and Latin roots. He doesn’t mind listening to stories from the Bible and illustrating his own Bible book.

He hates piano. He hates writing. I think it’s a fine motor skill thing.

He hates doing math work sheets.

There are no comprehension problems here. It’s all motivational problems. And that’s what’s so frustrating. I think I can be patient if he actually had comprehension problems…well, no, probably not.

Ugh, again. I was just a highly motivated learner, and am doing everything I can think of to inspire in my children a shared love of learning. And it’s not working.

Patience. Time. I know.

In the meantime, I’m trying to think of a practical way to get this kid to keep his nose to the worksheet and just.get.it.done. Without screaming.

Ideas?

…at this comment by Eric Scheske regarding the Muslim violent uproar over the Pope quoting a Byzantine emperor who characterized some of the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad, Islam’s founder, as “evil and inhuman:”

That’s like a person protesting allegations about his drunkenness by drinking a bottle of whiskey.

I am blessed to live in a neighborhood with a plethora of teenaged girls who want to babysit. When it was only 4 kids to watch, they all pretty much told me $5 an hour. That’s a really good deal for 4 kids! Of course, if it was much more than that, I wouldn’t be able to hire them very often, since the bank account has been known to run dry.

One girl charged $6.50 an hour, but she washed, dried and put away all the dishes, too. Definitely worth paying extra money to come home at 10 pm to sleeping children and a clean kitchen. Most of the girls haven’t figured out that putting the dishes in the dishwasher and the toys on the shelf will almost always guarantee repeat business.

Now that I often leave all 5 kids, I pay at least $6 an hour. Pete can be a handful. He still wants mommy and has the toddler-stamina to be miserable for hours on end.

The girl I’m having watch the kids on Saturdays for dog school is the oldest of 5. I chose her mainly because her 3 younger siblings are close in age to my kids and the youngest is only months older than Pete. She’s pretty experienced at distracting fussy babies. And she knows that moms don’t like messy houses. When the kids found out who was coming they said, “No! Not her! She makes us clean!” Hehe.

Because there are so many potential babysitters, I feel badly for any new girls who are trying to move in on the market. On Friday, about 530 pm, our doorbell rang. A middle school girl from down the street was selling stuff from a catalog as a fundraiser for school (I guess the government handout just isn’t enough). As I was browsing the catalog of scented candles and wrapping paper, she looked around at my kids.

“Five kids, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a lot of kids.”

“Yeah.” (I suppose.)

“Do you ever need a, uh…”

“Babysitter?”

“Yeah!”

“Sometimes. How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“Have you ever babysat a bunch of kids before?”

“I babysat three at one time.”

“Mmmmm…” (If you can do 3, you can do 5 – at least my 5 who are usually well behaved for babysitters, except for Pete.)

“Once I babysat a 2 month old. But he slept the whole time. I was lovin’ that.”

“Yeah. I’d be lovin’ that too! (I don’t happen to have any sleepy 2 month olds who need watching, though.) Hmm…how ’bout I write your number down and I’ll maybe call you sometime? What’s your number?”

“Uh, I don’t know…”

“Did you just move in?”

“Uh, about 2 months ago…I can bring it over later?”

“Ok. How much would you charge?”

“$5 per hour…well, that would be for 2 kids. I’d have to charge $2 per kid.” (Well, now, $2 x 5 = $10 per hour. Hmmm...)

“Mmmm…well, here’s the money for the wrapping paper.”

“Thanks. Do you guys homeschool?”

“Yes, we do.” (Do I have a scarlet H on my shirt or something?)

“Is it math time?” (This briefly puzzles me, since by Friday evenings all of the school stuff is totally cleaned up – woo hoo – TGIF – party time!!! And then I realize that my kids are playing with pattern blocks which had only arrived via UPS an hour before.)

“No. They just do this for fun.”

“Oh. I’ll bring my number over later.”

“Buh-bye.”

If I ever pay a 13 year old nearly twice the minimum wage to watch my kids, I swear I will withhold all the necessary taxes, social security, etc that I can as a private employer. Jeesh. These kids are so clueless. The babysitting supply is high. Prices should be pretty low. And you can make more money under the table, so to speak, as a babysitter, than you could flipping burgers at Mickey D’s. But don’t push it by expecting more than the fair market value.

For now, I’ll stick with Miss Oldest-Of-Five-Who-Makes-My-Kids-Clean. She still owes her mom $40 for the Palm Pilot she needed for high school. At least her mom made her pay for it.

Atlanta Journal-Constitution
September 14, 2006
Army Fights To Gain Troops

U.S. military leaders seek strategy to boost wartime size

Gen. Dan McNeill, head of Atlanta-based Forces Command, said Army officials want to be able to use National Guard combat units more frequently. Those units are under the control of individual state governors.

“If we are going to prosecute this long war, we need relatively
unencumbered access to the citizen soldier formations,” said McNeill, whose command oversees training and mobilization for all Army forces in the continental United States.

It may go even farther than that, said Loren Thompson, a defense analyst with the Lexington Institute, a Washington-based nonprofit, nonpartisan public policy group that focuses on national security.

“There is speculation among Pentagon insiders that [President] Bush may mobilize the National Guard after the elections,” Thompson said Wednesday.

“This war has gone on so much longer than anyone anticipated and the demand on our troops in the field are so great that the Army is just wearing out,” Thompson added.

To mobilize the entire National Guard is, in effect, drafting over 330,000 people. These are people who have real lives: police, firemen, accountants, factory workers, IT technicians, teachers, clergy. Many of them make more in their civilian employment than they do in their part-time jobs. Yes, they all signed up to be “civilian soldiers,” and they signed up to help the country in a time of war. But the vast bulk (75%) have already done a deployment within the last 3 years. The vast bulk have already served more than was ever thought necessary.

Thank goodness this means little to my family personally. Bill is already full-time National Guard. We chose this life. We budgeted for this life. But I am outraged at the possibility that every National Guard soldier and his or her family may be thrown into complete chaos and fiscal hardship involuntarily. And they’d still have the audacity to call it an all-volunteer force.

Young officers attending the conference were told by Lt. Gen. Thomas Metz, second in command at the Army’s Training and Doctrine Command, which oversees recruiting and training soldiers, that “the rest of your life will be spent in this war.“

And that’s the official opinion about when this will all end.

P.S. Don’t get me wrong. I support wiping out bad guys the world over. I don’t want to live in fear of terrorism, fear of traveling, fear of opening my mailbox, whatever. I don’t mind fighting for our freedoms. Just come up with a better plan, boys, than screwing up the lives of 330,000 people without their true consent simply because it’s an easy solution. And don’t risk a domestic crisis by removing National Guard soldiers from their home state and leaving that state unable to deal with a natural disaster like Hurrican Katrina.

I guess today is just a day for complaining.

Promise: I’ll take a soothing bath tonight after the kids are in bed, and the jolly Michelle will be back.

Billy: Mooooommmmm! My mouth hurts.

{He doesn’t have his third set of molars yet, and I checked inside his mouth to see if he was sprouting anything. Nope. And he kept pointing to his cheeks instead of his gums. I saw nothing out of the ordinary, and began to assume he was delaying his schoolwork.}

Me: Well, I think it’s really bad here, Bill. I’m pretty sure this condition will kill you in 80 years.

Billy: Eighty years! I’m going to die in eighty years! Ooooh, nooooo! I’m going to die….Fritz, did you hear that? I’m going to die in eighty years!!!!

I tried not to fall off my chair from laughing.

Me: Billy, do you know how old you will be in 80 years?

Billy: No…

Me: Older than Grandpa.

Billy: Which one?

Me: Both of them.

Billy: (finally laughing at the joke) Oh! Oh! I’ll be older than Grandpa! Oh! Ha ha ha.

Dying is ok, as long as you are older than old.

In contrast to the Duggars, who fall in the “Quiver-full” category, are the Shakers, who believed in celibacy, even for married members.

Of course, celibacy means no intercourse, which generally means no children either (one notable exception!). Hence, the number of Shakers in the world today is seven (down from a peak of 6,000 in the 1830s).

My point is this: if you don’t procreate, you are relying on converts to carry on your values. Chances are, your values will go the way of the Shakers.

But that’s ok, my kids will support you in your old age: they’ll pay their taxes and social security tithe; they’ll be soldiers and defend your freedom to live how you want; they’ll vote and ensure you have the freedom to say whatever you want to say (even if you fling hateful diatribes in their direction); and hopefully, they’ll have the Christian fortitude to love you despite how you feel about them.

Because that’s the way this evil Catholic mom is brainwashing them to behave.

{Note: blogger doesn’t like me today, and I can’t link to my post from yesterday about the Duggars…in case you want to know what in the world has set me off.}