Head on a swivel

This morning the kids went through their independent work independently (hallelujah—because it doesn't happy all the time) and then we went to co-op. 

Phoebe still doesn't like to go to her class so she hangs out with me, and that's fine. I popped a snack into my bag just as we were leaving the house because I knew Phoebe would ask for one and—after playing with play dough and magnets—she did ask for a snack. 

I opened her snack and set it on the little table in the classroom, where Phoebe happily stood and ate. Then the air system clicked on and Phoebe panicked. My children (and I) tend to be a little...sensitive...to noises. Phoebe wanted to locate the source of the whooshing and when she found it she panicked, snatched her cookies off the table, and backed away, saying, "That's not safe. Not safe at all!"

Waking the moon

I'm 10+ years late to the party, but I'm finally getting around to reading The Red Pencil (aloud with the kids) and I am so hung up on these moon rituals mentioned at the beginning of the book (and, as far as I can surmise, are mentioned later in the book). Granted, we are only on page 115, so we still have a ways to go but, like...what?

So apparently there is a tradition of "waking the moon" in...whatever village our protagonist, Amira, is from...where a "hiding moon" is considered "a curse" so when clouds threaten to cover the moon the people assemble to collectively "wake her" by yelling, banging drums, shaking bells, beating pans. 

And I just...have so many questions about this. 

Is this a special ritual? Like, are there only certain nights that it's important to keep the moon unveiled? Or is it important that she is always free from cloud cover?

Who is keeping tabs on the moon? From what I can tell from the book (and from, you know, life experience), these are all very hardworking people (aren't we all?). So who is assigned moon-watching duty after working the land so hard all day long? Is this task accomplished in shifts? It seems like it would be difficult to stay awake long enough to keep the moon in "view / until sunrise announces / night's farewell" (p. 36), especially if this is a constant thing.

And, again, we're just waking up the entire village to conjure a cacophony every time the moon slips behind a cloud? 

When, then, do the people sleep?

I know the moon wasn't visible when I went to bed last night. The roaring wind, pouring rain, and crashing thunder made enough of a ruckus that I'm not sure any of my hollers would have been heard over the noise of it all. Perhaps that's why cloud cover is bad luck. Who knows?

I don't. 

Particular chaos

Phoebe is the particular kind of child who will pick through the utensil basket in the dishwasher, carefully curating a handful of forks to put away all at once.

Phoebe is also the chaotic kind of child who will take that carefully curated handful of forks, walk over to the silverware drawer (we still call it that, even though we've never owned actual silverware), and simply toss them inside, sending them clattering every which way in the drawer (instead of placing them neatly in their little cubby in the organizer...or whatever it's called...a slot, perhaps). 

In short, I'm never quite sure what to expect from her or do with her...but she sure is cute!

These pictures have nothing to do with putting away the dishes, but here's Phoebe climbing up this ladder-thing at the park this afternoon. I think it looks like Jack's beanstalk a little bit.

Curly Fives

Here's Zoë first thing in the morning on Sunday, just after taking out her curlers. She was excited to go to church with curly hair. It was a fast Sunday, which meant it was testimony meeting as well, and yet even with those gloriously sproingy curls Zoë stayed glued to her seat. 

Miriam got up to bear her testimony, though, which made me think back to a story I've never written down because Miriam was so embarrassed about it years ago...but she's mostly finished being embarrassed about it, I think, so I'll share it now. 

When Miriam was about Zoë's age (a little younger, perhaps (we were still living in Spanish Fork)) she asked me to curl her hair for church—on a fast and testimony Sunday! During the testimony meeting she surprised us all by standing up to bear her testimony. She regally skipped down the aisle and bounced up to the podium. With some enthusiastic head bobbing she bore her testimony. Then she skipped back down to sit with the family.

Blue-Green Threshold

This evening I asked Miriam to pass me my water bottle (my campus water bottle, as Phoebe calls it, because it fits into my computer bag...but I drink out of it 100% of the time at home as well because she has co-opted my nightstand water bottle) and for some reason as I was asking her to pass it to me...I said something about "green."

Probably because I usually have a pink water bottle (my home water bottle that only Phoebe uses) and a green water bottle (my campus water bottle) on my nightstand. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.

"Will you hand me my green water bottle?" I asked.

I was at my desk. Miriam was sitting on the middle of my bed. It made sense.

"Greeeeeeeeen?" Miriam said, aghast. "This is clearly blue."

"It's green," I said, reaching for it.

"It's blue," she said, yanking it just out of my reach.

"We all know I struggle with this," I said. "My green threshold is different from everyone else in this house. We know this. And that is green."

Saturday is a special day

This morning Benjamin and I went out running together for the first time in a long time. We've been keeping fit using our home gym equipment. Is it here that I admit to the world that we have two exercise bikes, a treadmill, and a walking pad?

The doctor is forever on my case about how out of shape homeschooled children are—since they don't have Phys Ed. But we walk and run and bike and swim and swing and jump just as much as anyone else, I think. Many of the studies I've recently looked at posit that there might be a correlation between homeschooling and lack of physical activity...but noted that there doesn't seem to be any notable difference in the actual results of the study. And, honestly, from what I've heard about Phys Ed classes, this makes sense.

In fact, Rachel and Miriam recently have become friends with another homeschooling teenager. They've invited her to some game nights and movie nights and so she's becoming acquainted with all of Rachel and Miriam's public schooled friends. On the first night this girl met this public school kids, one of the public school girls was complaining about needing to complete one (1) pushup to pass her PE midterm. 

"How much recess do you get?" the homeschooled girl asked.

"Recess?" the public schooled girl said, confused. "We don't get recess! We haven't gotten recess since elementary school!"

"Oh!" said the homeschooled girl, shocked. "Then when do you go outside?"

"We don't. Not until school is over."

"Oh. I just...assumed...because the doctor is always telling me I need more fresh air, more exercise...that public schooled students got fresh air and exercise."

"We walk laps in the gym."

"Oh."

It is rather surprising to hear what they do at public school when we catch so much grief as homeschoolers (and I was pleased to know that we're not the only ones being lectured by our doctor about this). 

Anyway, Benjamin and I haven't gone running outside in a long time, in part because it's been winter and in part because I've been so busy that I've been running on the treadmill late at night after I get all the kids in bed. 

The kids run on the treadmill, they use the exercise bike. It's true we need fresh air as well...and we get plenty of that, as well. But recently we've been keeping fit indoors. So it was nice to head out into the sunshine and go for a run with Benjamin. 

When we were taking a little walking break I noticed a little anole darting around on the sidewalk. 

"Benjamin—look!" I said. 

"Oooh! I want to catch it!" he said. And he tried to. 

Lost, lost, lost...

There's a woman who walks

her dog, a pinwheel spinning

on a leash. Whimsy, she calls

her. The dog leaps around

in endless circles, not knowing

forwards from back. And neither

does she. Up and down the street

she walks, always the same route.

But not today. Today she deviates—

lured astray by cheerful breezes,

a screech of hawk in the sky, a pop 

of daffodil against sepia lawn. Today

she spreads wings, explores, reaches

out her finger and rings the bell. A boy 

no more than four answers the door

and in she goes, Whimsy in tow,

to a place she's never seen. "What

is going on?!" shrieks the woman

of the house. "Who are you? Why

are you in my house?!"

"Who are you?" the woman echos.
"I'm looking for Kay." 

"Let's take this outside."

"It's a beautiful day."

"Sit here on the wall. I need to find help."

A springy Thursday

I asked Phoebe to not pick the daffodils this year. 

The blooms tend to last longer when they're outside (at least when I'm in charge of taking care of cut blossoms). But naturally she picked one of the very first daffodils to bloom and brought it to me. 

A delightful gesture, really. 

First Ever "Christmas in February" Concert!

We have certainly been slacking off with formal piano lessons this semester but last semester we were on top of things! We had nearly weekly lessons and were so prepared at Christmas that Alexander was playing the piano every chance he got...and yet somehow we never sat down to do a little recital. 

Oh, his sisters had their fair share of performances. We attended and performed at concerts and at church. We sang songs around the piano at Grandpa and Darla's house. We sang songs around our own piano. 

And yet Alexander and I never recorded our Christmas duets.

Alexander has been very good at self-directed piano study the past couple of months. He's moving through his book and learning songs. We have impromptu lessons (where someone will hear him making a mistake while practicing and will run in to intervene because we all know these primer songs forwards and backwards, having been through them ourselves...and then over and over again with each child...) but so far nothing formal. He's been pleased with his progress, and yet...he's been hanging onto his Christmas books.

All the other Christmas books have been filed away on the shelf until the next season, but his Christmas books have remained in rotation because we still needed to film our duets!

First it was okay because it wasn't Christmas yet. And then it was only Boxing Day. And then it was just that liminal space between Christmas and the New Year. And then it was still Christmas somewhere because Three Kings Day (Epiphany) was still coming up, and Orthodox Christmas. And then...the semester started...but it was all snowy outside and that was kind of Christmassy. And then we were a month post-Christmas...and then...well...we're more than two months post-Christmas and it's beginning to feel like we're putting things off.

Alexander even asked Daddy to buy a special cord we could plug into the piano so that we could record from the piano to our device, cutting out any potential Phoebe noises. And the cord came. And then it was, "Oh, we have to learn how to use it first..."

Running and handedness

 Zoë drew a picture of a runner the other day, which she decided was me. I am wearing gloves because she messed up on the hands. But I think it turned out pretty great!