Category Archives: homeschooling

testing, testing, uno-dos-tres

Posted on by September 3, 2013


The woodstove was glowing, smoke drifting slightly west from our chimney, and the snow was piling up almost as fast as the books on my to-read list. We were almost totally thawed last week until Saturday, when it started snowing and didn’t stop until a few days ago. People called it Merry Springmas.  

…WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY FOR SNOW REMAINS IN EFFECT UNTIL NOON
AKDT TUESDAY…

* LOCATION…MATANUSKA VALLEY.

* SNOW…ADDITIONAL SNOW ACCUMULATION 3 TO 7 INCHES THROUGH NOON
ON TUESDAY.

* TIMING…SNOW WILL INCREASE THIS EVENING INTO THE EARLY
OVERNIGHT. SIGNIFICANT SNOW ACCUMULATIONS WILL PERSIST THROUGH
TUESDAY MORNING. MINOR ADDITIONAL ACCUMULATIONS OF SNOW ARE
POSSIBLE THROUGH TUESDAY NIGHT.

This came after the last advisory of 8-14 inches, which came after the alert from Saturday that I can’t remember the details of. The total at our house was 17 inches…less than some, more than others.


Our cats curled up together like quotation marks. The grill wore a chef’s hat. 

The kids practiced their theatrical skills and tried to convince each other they were waist deep

or more

and required assistance

before they had to swim to safety.


Just a few days before, the streets were dry. Mattie and Iree had testing and the rest of us had time to kill while we waited for them to finish. 

 We threw snowballs at each other,


 raised a ruckus at the library, 

stomped in puddles…


fell in puddles…


…and woke up at 7 am for three days straight and lived to tell about it. Miracles do happen. 

We drank a lot of coffee. At the post-testing celebratory lunch with Grandpa at Sophia’s Cafe, I discovered…Greek coffee.

“Greek coffee?” I asked the waitress. “What makes it Greek?”

“Well…I’ve heard people say that it’s like 16 cups of coffee in one cup.”

“I’ll take one of those.”

I just like watching my dad’s eyebrows go up.


This week, as the snow is re-melting, falling off the trees like glacial calving when the sun hits it, we’ve had more testing of a different sort. We had an appointment on Monday that was awesome (yay!) except that in spite of my warnings, our child with the most attachment issues was doted on for a 30-minute gig and we’ve been reaping the consequences ever since. For example: if a child acts like he’s…limping…right after he’s has his blood drawn, you can bet he is practicing his, ah, theatrical skills, also. Please. And while that is kind of funny, everything else we’ve been dealing with post-fawning-appointment has not been. We’ve been swimming for safety all week.

{Unless you are the parent, gushing over a child with attachment issues is a huge no-no, and those who do it are not the ones who have to deal with the aftermath later. Egad, Holmes!}

We are learning to assert boundaries with people in the community and trying really hard to teach those who need to understand what it is that we are dealing with. We have had to be taught, too, and we are still learning so much. Usually it’s wonderful, but this time it wasn’t, and we will start again when this blows over.

We did learn some exciting news though. Eight months home, and Reagan has gained 6 1/2 pounds. Andrey has grown almost 2 1/2 inches.


The fact that Reagan has gained so much weight is particularly notable since she lost almost a pound of hair when we cut it a few weeks ago. 

But the real miracle is that she still has both ears and no injuries, because she is quite a…shall we say, mover and shaker? and jerked this way and that way, wings flapping, the entire time. It didn’t help that this lady showed up at the back door, either.

 

Reagan was flapping like she’d had the Greek coffee. I snipped some quick layers and put away the scissors for everyone’s safety.


It’s Saturday as I write this and homemade macaroni and cheese is in the oven for our almost-sacred movie night. The superfluous testing has eased up over the last day or two and this is the first day I haven’t had to swim for shore all week. Which is wonderful, because I hate swimming. I’m convinced we weren’t meant to do it.


We were meant to walk on water.


a progress report, of sorts

Posted on by September 4, 2013

I have some notes about what I wanted to write tonight. The cat is sitting on them. I tried moving them a little, and she moved too – she’s persistent like that – and I can’t bear to move her because she’s my buddy. Let me work from memory and see what happens…

We’ve been fighting the crud around here (you too?), and have been trying to get together with friends for a couple of weeks. With as many kids as we have added all together, we are waiting for that magical moment when the temperatures align and all nine to thirteen children are not seriously puking, fevering, ear-aching, or otherwise immovable.

Chamberlain went to bed last night with the sniffles and woke up in the middle of the night with a spider (the invisible, imaginary, dream world sort). Except she was stuffy and Vin had no idea what she was saying (“Dere’s a ‘pider id by bed ad cad you ‘quish it? Ad I also wat by Bob and Warry busic back on…”). I translated, he got up, squished the imaginary spider, and turned on a VeggieTales CD. Five minutes later Reagan was crying and it was my turn. Except usually I don’t have to take a turn. In almost seven months, this is only the second time Reagan has gotten up in the middle of the night. Both times she was sick with a cold – once when we first came home (day two or three?), and then last night.

 

And you know what was amazing and wonderful about this?

The first time she woke up in the middle of the night, she was coughing terribly and couldn’t breathe very well, and I couldn’t do a thing about it but pray. I tried to comfort her and she screamed. I tried to help her blow her nose and she panicked. I urged her to take a drink of water and she sobbed…the more I tried, the worse she got. I finally went back to bed that night and listened to her cry herself to sleep after I left the room.

But last night?

She called me mama. I helped her blow her nose. I put vapo-rub on her feet (you know this will stop coughing, don’t you?) and peppermint oil on her chest and forehead and she laid back, safe and content. As I shut the door, she said, “Ni-night, Mama…” and fell asleep happy, not quite seven months later.

 

A year ago we were in the city that rhymes with seven. It was our first week with Andrey, just meeting him. This week now, in our part of Alaska, the weather is very similar to what it was last year, in that city in Bulgaria. I woke up this morning and could feel the same-ness of it from the light in the sky and the waving bare branches.

 

This week last year, we heard Andrey say two sentences on his own, maybe. This week, this year, he is getting in trouble for having his favorite stuffed animal on the table at mealtimes, and he argues about it. “But Koosten is huuungry! See? Koosten saying,” – insert squeaky voice – “I’m hungry!” Yep.

Around this time last year, the only one who could translate for Chamberlain was Iree. Now, almost all of us can almost always tell what she’s saying (with the exception of middle of the night, stuffy-nosed conversations). For example, the “veggietor” is not a reptile, it’s the veggie store. An eye is an eye, an “oo” is an ear, two oos means two ears, and we all know that. She is also reveling in her new ability to pronounce the L sound with a flourish…when she’s not too stuffy.

“Llllook!” she says at the lunch table. She holds up her sandwich: “It’s a dwagon!” Another bite. “Oh! Now it’s a lllion!” Another bite. “It’s a kitty, with two oos!” Another bite. “Oh, a kitty with one oo!”

You should be glad we don’t feed her pop tarts.

(you might also be glad that we homeschool…)

 

A year ago, I thought we had a pretty good handle on potty humor. Fast forward to this year, when a few days ago I asked a certain child to add 87 + 5, and he started to answer, “Ninety–” but was interrupted by musical noises that can only be produced by small boys after eating too much chili. Older brother answered for him, though. The answer, of course, was…

Ninety-toot.

six months today

Posted on by February 27, 2013

Six months ago at this moment, I was unconscious from the intoxicated stupification that can only be induced by an 11-hour jet lag. We flew the victory lap over Europe, over the Arctic Circle, and over the moon with our newly redeemed son and daughter. At the airport we hugged our kids, hugged our friends, somehow drove all the way home, and promptly put everyone to bed at 6 pm so we could collapse with dignity instead of being peeled off the kitchen floor by our 12-year-old.

I’ve been slowly coming to ever since. The fog is lifting and the sun is shining and I almost never feel like I just got whacked by the freezer door…except for the other day when I did get whacked by the freezer door…anyway, I usually feel pretty good lately.

We have two little girls who have both decided that going potty on the potty is a pretty great thing. I have gone for daaaaaays without changing a stinky diaper and this victory alone makes me less tentative of getting out of bed in the morning.

We have a little boy who has not had an “askident” for weeks. He often grins and announces, “No wadder…no askident!” before bedtime and we are overjoyed that he now understands the relationship between clear water going into the body and yellow water coming out of it. This was a huge relief to us because for a while it looked like he was going to start having accidents on purpose just for the joy of showering afterward every time he could pull it off.

We have a big boy who is learning to read and play the piano beautifully. He turns seven very soon and continues to be the bigger-and-wiser-though-still-slightly-younger brother to Andrey and Reagan. He has navigated the weirdness wonderfully and I love his fluffy red head.

                                     

We have a big girl who gets her little sisters dressed in the morning and even helps them make their beds. She is also playing the piano beautifully and composing her own music. Her freehand, wavy staff thrills me.

 We have a biggest boy who is learning geometry in sixth grade that I never learned in tenth (fascinating stuff!) and reading Lord of the Rings and Plutarch. I thought I had lost him in Costco last week and he reassured me that no harm could come to him because, don’t you know, he had his knife. Well, that’s a relief. (!)

There are still many unknowns and surprises. The other day I found Reagan with a magnet stuck to her head – one of those 3/4 inch building kit magnets that come with a ton of ball bearings; they’re strong little suckers. Sticking right up out of the side of her head. My first thought was, “Oh, Jesus!!!” and then (I’ll be honest) “Well, that explains a lot…” I was calmly trying to figure out whether I should call the doctor or our attorney in Bulgaria first. And then I realized it was stuck to her barrette.

Happy anniversary to us. We’ve been home, all eight of us, all together, for good, for ever, for six months.

I think we’re going to make it.