Just what did we learn? (includes a link to cool free classes)

It's three o'clock.  The time of day when a lot of school kids are getting onto busses... having had their fill of knowledge for the day.  Quadratic equations on top of dangling participles on top of the life cycle of a Great Winged Petrel, all wrapped up in the period table of the elements.  Gawsh.  It's when I start thinking about all the "stuff" my kids' schooled counterparts are learning during the day that I can easily slip into self-doubt.

Especially when it's raining and my tummy hurts.  And we missed music lessons because my tummy hurts.

Orange Flower's
Purple Life

My daughter started the day with a paint brush.  Let me preface by saying that this weekend she really pushed herself... and she created some of the best eight-year old art work ever to grace our cluttered dining room table.

This morning, however, it was as if all the inner turmoil of every starving artist on the planet was unleashed through my little girl.  She woke up and went straight to the easel.  (yeah, no coffee)  She started sketching a cake, which looked like crap.  She erased the cake.  She whined.

She just COULD NOT think of anything good to paint.  I suggested that if she paint a coffee mug, I would buy it if no-one else did (at her future exhibition).

NO WAY, Mom.  She hates painting mugs,  she sucks at them, she said she was a horrible artist and she was never going to do art again. (stomp stomp stomp)

I suggested breakfast.  She was NOT hungry.  (seriously, coffee... I mean for me)

Trilogy

I suggested painting a portrait of her guitar.  She was sure the drawing she made sucked, and could I erase it FOR her because her arm hurt from erasing.

I suggested painting it up really close so you could just see the strings and neck.  That was stupid.  I suggested a break.  She thought a break was good but only if she could watch something.

Lonely Pear in Pink

Sure.  Fine.  Whatever.  But only until her brother woke up, because I was NOT going to start the day with tv and gaming with HIM.  That was a different battle.

And so, the exhausted uninspired artist rested.

At some point Chay rolled out of bed (he had been up late into the night reading an awesome book called "Okay for Now."  He started into a cupcake-baking project all on his own [bonus].

Finally KK, (after asking me to stay OUT) began to apply paint to canvas.  Honestly, I had a hard time withholding critique.  But I did tell her I knew she could do better.  While concentric squares of various random colors were okay... anyone could do that.  (don't be hard on me, she obviously hadn't even put thought into the color scheme) The things she painted, and worked on diligently over the weekend, which showed her talent for perspective and lighting and color, were breathtaking.  I told her if she wasn't feeling inspired then gosh-darnit don't paint.  Start up again when it feels right.

I braced myself for more tears and throwing, hoping she wasn't grabbing for the muddy orange-ish water in the brush-cup.  But she didn't throw.  She didn't say anything.  Had my honesty actually worked?  Yay, something right!  I think I will be okay after all.

Am I getting off track?  It's three o'clock and we are finally at the library, despite my the interesting feelings happening in my stomach.  The kids got in about fifteen minutes of Muzzy language online and each checked out some science and lit magazines before Chay jumped upstairs to get in on the origami-bookmark-making session in the Teen Zone [http://plymouthlibrary.org/index.php/teen/teen-events] .  Pssst... they also offer free tutoring every Wednesday night from 6pm-8pm. AND a free Guys Read Book club.  Check the link!

I sit here on my computer, finally gently sipping a cup of coffee, and writing this blog post.

I have to get KK to jazz at 4:15pm, and we plan on the rec center tonight for lap swimming.  My *hope* is that we will have quiet time tonight to read and such.  The kids will practice their piano and guitar... and so it's not going to be a day wasted.  Let's rundown the learning for today:  music, foreign language, art, culinary arts and phys ed.  Okay, so if we approach this like college... tomorrow we handle math, spelling, science and geography (plus music and phys ed again).

I think I will be okay after all.  I think we all will.

And that bit of art work KK made today... well, I looked at it again... and it was all right.  The beautiful thing about art, I told my daughter, is that everyone likes something different.  Otherwise this world would be one heckuva boring place.

Enjoy the Fall

I did it!  I'm me!  Here I am, world.  No longer am I hiding behind the (albeit very cool) vintage image of the perfect mother in her apron cooking something delicious for her adoring family!  I have to admit, when I started blogging a year and a half ago, I was digging into some very deep muck- often times I was ranting, and melting down, and going through all the turmoil of a new and completely clueless home school mom.  I wanted to be blatantly honest.  I thought the best way to do that was to put myself in a personal protection program.  But who was I hiding from?  My friends knew who I was... because I wanted them to read my blog, I posted it in my Facebook Page as MY blog! (der) 


What about people who don't know me?  (You know who you are.) Is it going to matter if I call myself by a different name, or if I reveal my children's identities?  Is a future employer going to go online, find my blog, and NOT HIRE my child because they once had a tantrum and told me they hated me... or because they have a sensory processing disorder and needed extra help at age ten to get through frustrations?  ...well... hopefully by "job time" my son will have the tool belt of skills he needs to cope without my help... [OH gosh n' golly I hope so]


So to those of you who know me as Kara Muse... "Hi, my name is Melinda and I am a recovering undercover blogger."

It helps to jump with a friend by your side.

This feels so good.  I feel like a new person, literally and not just virtually!  It is very liberating to be who you are, to let your flag fly in all of its freaky glory.  I think it's liberating because I KNOW I am doing what's right for me, for my family, so I am ready to go to bat for my ideals.  And it's also liberating because if I am being honest and open about my struggles, it might just help some other family who feels like they are on a downward spiral... sometimes knowing that someone else has been where you are and survived the jump is all you need to let go and fall.


That's my mantra for now... let go, and let life.

Loony Zone

Today I worked on fancying up my blog!  Do you like it?  You know when you are going out with your partner (as if... hehe) and you put on a little lip gloss, take off the yoga pants, and fluff your hair?  You know... pretty.  My blog feels pretty.  She just smooched herself in the mirror.  And winked.

I have to be totally forthright with you... last night I was about to have a meltdown of epic proportions.  We started out well enough... it was a slow Sunday... the kind that starts out with eggs scrambled by my eight-year-old daughter and freshly roasted coffee expertly French pressed by my adoring spouse.  It was the kind of day that begged for painting in pajamas and plucking the ukulele laying down on our big purple shag rug.  In fact... the day's production was wonderful.  Cady got really into acrylics as she gears up to be the youngest artist on exhibition at our local coffee shop.  See photo right->

Not only that, but the smell of freshly baked muffins wafted through the house... as Asher baked up a batch of his finest.  Sounds like a day of  perfection, right?  So, what the *&%# was my problem?!?

{HEY, my hub just walked in and gave me the PERFECT illustration.}  

He innocently asked, "Why are they screaming?"

I am literally chuckling, my tanked top shaking like a bowl full of jello-shots.   Here's the short-list of an answer.  

My Children Scream Because They Are:

• being funny
• being Fred
• angry
• hurt
• pretending to be a baby
• pretending to sing like an idiot
• attacking the dog
• attacking each other
• ninja stalking the neighbor
• laughing hysterically
• pretending to be a parrot
• trying to get my attention... from the basement when I am in the upstairs bathroom
• talking in Spanish
• jumping on the trampoline
• screaming to fill up the quiet
• being zombies
• acting like a chimpanzee
• acting like a child
• trying to irritate the pucky out of me
• making sure I don't try to procreate any more
• making sure they haven't lost their voices
• singing first round of American Idol
• telling me the dinner was good/bad 
• making sure I know they are hungry
• tired
• breathing

Okay... that's just a partial list.  My house is quite often insane.  Which is something I love about my house, especially since my kids don't carry that over into dinner with Grandma and Grandpa.  I guess my house is just a "be as loony as you like" zone.  We are breeding eccentrics over here... but I guess nothing wonderful came of conformity.

What was I saying?  Oh, yes... bed time on our perfect Sunday brought me to hysterics.  My sweet artist, Cady, could not stop being a total goofball... and she had her older brother on the bandwagon.  It was a right old hootinannee.    Except, after ONE MORE ANNOYING SOUND, I was D.O.N.E.  No more pants pulled up to the nipples walking around like Erkel, no more arm pit farts, no more bugged out eyeballs or massive wedgies, no more sliding around on bellies in feetie pajamas making platypus grunt noises, and for Goddess-sake NO MORE SCREAMING!!!!!

I cried.  I did.  I walked out of the room and cried.  Is a little quiet too much to ask?  Is it?

Ahhh.  I feel better now.  A good night's rest (with no alarm clock set), and a quiet talk with myself (oh  yeah, and with the crazies that inhabit my space) has set everything straight.  Today I vowed to spend some time apart from my beautiful children, and to do something meditative.  We went to the gym and swam laps.  Cady was my personal trainer, swimming twenty laps alongside me... but without talking.  Asher swam laps, then did some water-spinning somersaults and stuff before showering and heading to the game room on his own.  On.  His.  Own.  (grin)

And tonight... oh sweet tonight... I got to sit in the lounge at the opera house while Asher rehearsed (on a totally different floor) and work on my own things for two whole hours.  Hence, the blog makeover.  (kisses)  She looks fabu, I feel so much better... and I didn't hear a single scream until just then- when my husband came in- but it came from basement... and it stopped on its own.  I think it was a delighted scream.  The guinea pig is probably in a dress. 

Yep, I was right.

He hates that... but he looks beautiful. ;)