Thursday, April 2, 2009

Shock and Homeschooling

You know what's really weird? I have 7 followers now, but only 6 of them are actually interested in my blog. The 7th is actually a sneaky link to a XXX website.

I shouldn't be shocked, but I am.

Way down at the bottom of the page, if you see a follower icon that has an 18+ on it, please ignore it. I don't know how to "fire" any of my followers, so I can't get rid of it. Sorry. You might be able to right-click on it and opt to "block image."


Ok, now to the homeschooling part. We're been doing this for a buttload several years now, but I rarely blog about it. Probably because I'm too busy actually doing it, and when we're done, I have too many other things to think about. But a homeschool friend is doing a school video project entitled "You Know You're a Homeschooler When..." and asked us to participate.

Of course, my mind went totally blank, so I went surfing the net looking for good finishers to that statement that best express my feelings. And in the process I unearthed a whole lot of interesting articles to bookmark, including the following humorous, yet cynical, list of gripes. I don't agree with every point she makes, but for those of you who don't homeschool, it's a glimpse into a homeschooler's life (and mind), and those of you who do homeschool will understand.


The Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List

by Deborah Markus, from Secular Homeschooling, Issue #1, Fall 2007

1 Please stop asking us if it's legal. If it is — and it is — it's insulting to imply that we're criminals. And if we were criminals, would we admit it?

2 Learn what the words "socialize" and "socialization" mean, and use the one you really mean instead of mixing them up the way you do now. Socializing means hanging out with other people for fun. Socialization means having acquired the skills necessary to do so successfully and pleasantly. If you're talking to me and my kids, that means that we do in fact go outside now and then to visit the other human beings on the planet, and you can safely assume that we've got a decent grasp of both concepts.

3 Quit interrupting my kid at her dance lesson, scout meeting, choir practice, baseball game, art class, field trip, park day, music class, 4H club, or soccer lesson to ask her if as a homeschooler she ever gets to socialize.

4 Don't assume that every homeschooler you meet is homeschooling for the same reasons and in the same way as that one homeschooler you know.

5 If that homeschooler you know is actually someone you saw on TV, either on the news or on a "reality" show, the above goes double.

6 Please stop telling us horror stories about the homeschoolers you know, know of, or think you might know who ruined their lives by homeschooling. You're probably the same little bluebird of happiness whose hobby is running up to pregnant women and inducing premature labor by telling them every ghastly birth story you've ever heard. We all hate you, so please go away.

7 We don't look horrified and start quizzing your kids when we hear they're in public school. Please stop drilling our children like potential oil fields to see if we're doing what you consider an adequate job of homeschooling.

8 Stop assuming all homeschoolers are religious.

9 Stop assuming that if we're religious, we must be homeschooling for religious reasons.

10 We didn't go through all the reading, learning, thinking, weighing of options, experimenting, and worrying that goes into homeschooling just to annoy you. Really. This was a deeply personal decision, tailored to the specifics of our family. Stop taking the bare fact of our being homeschoolers as either an affront or a judgment about your own educational decisions.

11 Please stop questioning my competency and demanding to see my credentials. I didn't have to complete a course in catering to successfully cook dinner for my family; I don't need a degree in teaching to educate my children. If spending at least twelve years in the kind of chew-it-up-and-spit-it-out educational facility we call public school left me with so little information in my memory banks that I can't teach the basics of an elementary education to my nearest and dearest, maybe there's a reason I'm so reluctant to send my child to school.

12 If my kid's only six and you ask me with a straight face how I can possibly teach him what he'd learn in school, please understand that you're calling me an idiot. Don't act shocked if I decide to respond in kind.

13 Stop assuming that because the word "home" is right there in "homeschool," we never leave the house. We're the ones who go to the amusement parks, museums, and zoos in the middle of the week and in the off-season and laugh at you because you have to go on weekends and holidays when it's crowded and icky.

14 Stop assuming that because the word "school" is right there in homeschool, we must sit around at a desk for six or eight hours every day, just like your kid does. Even if we're into the "school" side of education — and many of us prefer a more organic approach — we can burn through a lot of material a lot more efficiently, because we don't have to gear our lessons to the lowest common denominator.

15 Stop asking, "But what about the Prom?" Even if the idea that my kid might not be able to indulge in a night of over-hyped, over-priced revelry was enough to break my heart, plenty of kids who do go to school don't get to go to the Prom. For all you know, I'm one of them. I might still be bitter about it. So go be shallow somewhere else.

16 Don't ask my kid if she wouldn't rather go to school unless you don't mind if I ask your kid if he wouldn't rather stay home and get some sleep now and then.

17 Stop saying, "Oh, I could never homeschool!" Even if you think it's some kind of compliment, it sounds more like you're horrified. One of these days, I won't bother disagreeing with you any more.

18 If you can remember anything from chemistry or calculus class, you're allowed to ask how we'll teach these subjects to our kids. If you can't, thank you for the reassurance that we couldn't possibly do a worse job than your teachers did, and might even do a better one.

19 Stop asking about how hard it must be to be my child's teacher as well as her parent. I don't see much difference between bossing my kid around academically and bossing him around the way I do about everything else.

20 Stop saying that my kid is shy, outgoing, aggressive, anxious, quiet, boisterous, argumentative, pouty, fidgety, chatty, whiny, or loud because he's homeschooled. It's not fair that all the kids who go to school can be as annoying as they want to without being branded as representative of anything but childhood.

21 Quit assuming that my kid must be some kind of prodigy because she's homeschooled.

22 Quit assuming that I must be some kind of prodigy because I homeschool my kids.

23 Quit assuming that I must be some kind of saint because I homeschool my kids.

24 Stop talking about all the great childhood memories my kids won't get because they don't go to school, unless you want me to start asking about all the not-so-great childhood memories you have because you went to school.

25 Here's a thought: If you can't say something nice about homeschooling, shut up!


Contents © 2007–2009 Deborah Markus






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Wednesday, April 1, 2009

My Son, the Thespian

For those of you who don't care to see videos of Someone Else's Grandkid, turn back now!



Here is my oldest son Scott in three clips from their high school production of Funny Girl, posted here for family and friends who couldn't attend the show.The still photo in front of the American Flag is of Scott, Kurt (who played Nick Arnstein), and the musical director. There is a photo of Scott and his former kindergarten teacher, who is the beloved and devoted costume director, and the last photo is of Scott and his maternal grandmother.









Saturday, March 28, 2009

Please Don’t Feed The Bear


Bird feeder….or bear feeder?


When we moved here, they warned us of a bear that occasionally came down off the mountain to root through trash and snack on bird seed. We’ve heard reports of recent sightings of a 450 pounder, but haven’t seen it for ourselves. It has been in our trash, however, and last night paid our brand new, one-day-old bird feeders a visit. They weren’t hanging all too high, but apparently that wasn’t good enough for the bear, who proceeded to flatten our wrought-iron signpost to get a better vantage point.


PICT0002 - Copy



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Friday, March 27, 2009

So What's New With You?

Anybody who’s been following my blog might remember what the twins (and the kids in general) did to the laptop. Today the new work laptop arrived!!! I’m setting it up now and learning how to use Windows Live Writer, which apparently will make blogging faster and more convenient.

I can already see that it was the lack of laptop that was the biggest impediment to my bloglessness. Having it on my lap means I can blog on the fly, where the action is, instead of schlepping up to the third floor and sequestering myself in the office.

Speaking of sequestering, a jury duty questionnaire arrived in today's mail for me. Last time I got one, I deliberately didn't return it, just to see if they were bluffing when they said anyone who didn't reply would automatically be selected. Guess what? They weren't bluffing. I was summoned for jury duty, but was excused because I was breastfeeding my baby exclusively. Sweet.

On the big news front: tonight is opening night for our high school's production of Funny Girl, in which my son plays Eddie Ryan. For those of us who have never heard of Funny Girl before, Eddie is a leading role. And instead of applauding my heart out with tears in my eyes, I am home with three sick little girls, waiting to see who'll be the next contestant to pray to the porcelain god. If they make it to the bathroom, that is. Sigh.

Here's a picture of what 10:56 p.m. looked like at my house. That's the carpet shampooer on the floor. Yes, it was necessary for me to drag out the shampooer. Sigh. Babies passed out left and right. Poor little things are so wiped out that they can't even lift their heads. The picture doesn't show 5yo Theresa...she had a stomach bug attack while I was busy cleaning up after one of the babies, and I told her she had to use the upstairs bathroom. After a while I noticed that she never came back, and I found her sound asleep face down on her bed, no covers, no security animal. This is the same child who can easily stay awake until midnight or 1:00 a.m. when she's "Not Tired." Putting herself to bed is nothing less than earth-shaking.

Somebody please tell me why we've had the stomach flu three times this winter?

So that’s it. Big whoop. Hi to everyone and I’ll try to get back to blogging on a semi-regular basis asap. I'll even try to concoct a Not Me Monday if my depleted brain can come up with something.

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Monday, March 2, 2009

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

This week's Not Me really happened, but I can't say to whom. There was an experience recently with another blogger who blogged about something (that has probably happened to all of us moms) but was reported to Child Protective Services by someone on the internet. This makes me leery of giving too many details. But suffice it to say that it really happened to someone close to my heart who shall remain nameless.

A family I know didn't spend an exhausting day shopping out-of-town, and didn't come home laden with packages, starving and cranky. The kids weren't let loose to play in the yard while the vehicle was unloaded. Then when it started getting dark, everyone didn't pile into the house while stuff was put away and dinner was prepared amid chaos.

It wasn't fifteen minutes or so later when the doorbell didn't ring, unexpectedly. Someone didn't answer the door only to find the family's toddler child, who hadn't been left outside, alone and unnoticed. The gate to the yard wasn't open and the toddler couldn't have gone just about anywhere. But instead the toddler didn't climb up the storm door to reach the doorbell once he or she got cold enough to want to come in.

That toddler certainly isn't one smart cookie. And that mom surely didn't feel lower than dirt for not allowing it to happen.

Happy Monday, everybody! Have a great week!



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