I Will Survive

Oh man, this is funny. It made my day.

Curriculum Shit

So quiet around here...

Aengus is an exuberant guy, yet the house still seems so quiet without Noah. Who knew that a kid who spends his day in his room or playing on the computer could leave such a palpable silence with his absence?

I know I should have been planning curriculum while he's been away. I just can't find it in me to think "school." I don't know if I still have summer on the brain, or the unschooling thing was so much to my thinking that I can't get out of it. Either way, I need to find a way to at least fake enthusiasm, 'cause Noah wants to do more formal, structured work this year.

We have the books to continue with Pre-Algebra, Geography, Grammar, and Literature. We can manage History with the library. He's got his guitar for music, with help from the internet and the library. Don't know what to do about writing. And though I have plenty of science books, I've never been good at actually doing experiments. So, I'm hoping we can put together a class at the local college using one of their Physics or Chemistry majors as an instructor. Oh, and Noah's signed up for Lego League, which is a fantastic opportunity (covering many subjects).

Problem is, once I get my act together and organize this stuff, I still have to find a way to pay for the science and Lego League. And guitar lessons. But I have no money. We're not sure yet how we're paying our bills this month (or next, for that matter), let alone buying extras like curriculum. Or food.

Ugh.

I hate being broke. I realized it was high time for me to find a paying job: The kids are more self-sufficient, and hubby's working from home, so the one-car thing isn't an issue anymore. But the places I've applied haven't even called me back. I don't get that -- I've always gotten every job I've applied for. Not to get even a call-back has me wondering what I did wrong on my applications. Or if maybe my last formal job being in 1998 might be a hindrance. I wonder if I should add the childcare work I did since then? But it's not like I'm trying to get into highly-competitive positions here. We're talking retail and food service, people. The damn college kids came back and took all the jobs, I suppose.

Sigh. Until I get a job, I think all fun --and eating-- will be on hold. And Christmas is coming. Again.

OK, I've thoroughly depressed myself now. Need more coffee. Damn, it's weak today. Maybe that's my trouble.

Wastin' time with You Tube...

Can't get this outta my head:

For all you young'uns, that there's real music. And to bring the old school into your new-fangled world:

I love You (Tube).

NLSV's UK Tour '09: Premier Issue

It's been quiet here. Too quiet. Noah's absence is palpable.

Aengus spends his days coloring and watching TV and digging in the dirt and asking for play dates. I spend my days on the computer. Where's that Crappy Mom Award? It's my turn!

The main thing I've been doing online (since Harry Potter's over and my usual cyber activities have thus ended) is researching the UK and Ireland and how to get us there. And so, let the travel journal begin:

In February of 2007, Daniel Radcliffe starred in the London production of Equus. I will openly admit that the premise of the play freaked me out (all I think when I hear "sex with horses" is OUCH!), but the draw of a naked Daniel Radcliffe... now THAT's something to get excited about!

While discussing this delightful opportunity, my girlfriends and I decided a field trip to see the play would be a fantastic learning opportunity for our kids. OK, their kids, since my boys would not be interested. But I should chaperone, right?!

We discussed jetting off to London for a long weekend. But really, once you're there, you've got to take the opportunity to see as much of the country as you can, right? And sheesh, Ireland is right next door. We're gonna need more than a weekend. And I suppose we really should offer the husbands a seat on the plane, too; we'll need evening childcare, after all.

My girlfriends laughed along with me at the idea, then went on with their lives. Being the obsessive person I am, the idea festered in my head. What if, I thought, we really did make this a field trip? It would certainly be educational; part of being a homeschooler is seizing every opportunity to learn something, and the UK is dripping with learning opportunities. The major appeal of such a trip (to our family, anyway) is its history and culture. So much the better when we're experiencing it all with friends!

And if it's a field trip, that means we can do fundraisers to help make it happen. This was the vital leap in my thought process, because it surely can't happen without raising the money from outside sources.

Then the wheels really began to turn. Oh, the learning potential! A whirlwind of curriculum ideas swirled in my head: literature, language, history, art, architecture, culture, music, astronomy, economics, drama, math, geneology,... you name it, I can put together a study of it based on a trip to the UK and Ireland. So much we can do between now and take-off that would be considered "schoolwork"!

If I can just make it all happen...

Well, if there's one thing I've learned from being a home educator all these years, it's that if you want something to happen, do it. Just do it. Take the steps and others will follow.

So, what began as an extended Moms' Night Out became the NLSV UK Tour '09 (working title). I've researched fundraising opportunities and ideas, airfare, hostels versus B&Bs versus hotels, ground transportation, becoming a non-profit, tourist attrations and traps, bank accounts, etc., etc., etc. I've spent hours looking into all the details -- on TV, online, and in books.

I still have lots more research to do, but I think we're ready to start fundraising efforts. It will take a lot of fundraising, for sure. Many of these families have stay-at-home moms; the job is priceless but payless, unfortunately. My own family can barely pay our bills, let alone save for retirement or a rainy day or a fab-o trip to the Old World. So the only way I'm getting there is if I can raise all the funds through group efforts; I think most of our other families are in the same boat -- er, plane.

My immediate plans are to organize all my research into handy packets and hold an organizational meeting of the interested parties. It looks like we'll have 20-25 people travelling together. What fun!! But what a lot of cash that will be -- up to $75,000! I concede that the idea is intimidating. But the image of this particular gang together in England and Ireland keeps me motivated.

That, and I will see Daniel Radcliffe while we're there -- naked, if I can manage it.

The Airport Saga

On Tuesday, Big Bro flew to Atlanta on his own to spend some time with friends. Getting him there was almost glitch-free... except when it came to telecommunications.

All our ducks were in their damned rows: Everything he'd need was either packed or would be bought at Wal-Mart in Georgia. We had all his paperwork printed out and organized, right down to a map of the Atlanta airport. Bathing suit and goggles, check. Underwear, check. Toothbrush, check (and you damn well better use it, boy!).

So, off we go. The parking lot shuttle shows up at our car just as we're locking it up. There's no line at check-in. Noah gets the ideal seat on the plane. Security's a pain but quick. Noah's gate is close and easy to find. So far, everything is running smoothly.

But then...

As we're looking for a magazine and some gum for his flight, Noah remembers that he left his mp3 player in the car. He's really attached to that thing, to the point that he was loading music specifically for the trip. Sorry, buddy, but you'll have to live without your music for two weeks.

OK, that was our glitch, right? Huh. Not so fast.

Then he remembered that he left his Benedryl and Tracfone card in the car as well. Benedryl he can buy in Georgia. The Tracfone card? BIG PROBLEM.

See, he's got this Tracfone that he never uses, so I had let the service drop. We stopped on the way to the airport to get him more minutes, because it was VITAL that he have a way to call me or his friend's mom when he lands. He's flying in to Atlanta, for Christ's sake. What if they don't issue Cori a gate pass? What if he's just standing there, wondering where to go and how to find her? How will he reach her? How will I know he's found her? AACK!

OK, deep breath. We had almost an hour before his flight leaves. I was going to see if I could make it out to the car and back real quick. Now, I know what you're thinking: I was smoking crack, right? Well, no; I'm just really inexperienced with flight. I actually thought I had a chance.

So I leave Noah with all his stuff right next to the gate and zoom out of the airport. I noticed on my way past security, however, that a line had formed. Red flags went up in my head --really, they were popping up in front of my eyeballs. But I continued, wondering what the hell my baby would do without a phone.

When I finally found the spot I was supposed to go to to catch the parking lot shuttle, I had just missed it. The next one wouldn't be back for another 15 minutes. Those red flags were now dancing. What if I couldn't get back in time, and Noah had to board without seeing me? How scared would he be?! Would they even let him on the plane without me there? And if they did --how dare they?!

I turned tail and ran back into the airport, stopped short by the now-huge line at security. Oh, crap. It was all I could do to not cut through the line and start somethin' with all these people who were between me and my kid. Once it was finally my turn, security was quick (it was just me and my purse and my thank-God-I-wore-these slip-on sandals).

I made it back to Noah just as they started boarding his flight. "OK," I said, "You'll have to take my phone and my mp3 player. It's a shuffle, but it's got lots of Green Day, so you'll survive." Off he went, with a quick hug and a slight look of panic in his eyes.

The only decent view of the planes taking off was from the airport bar. Poor me. I bellied up and ordered a brew, thinking it would be a while 'til Noah's plane actually headed up, up, and away. Not two sips into my beer, though, and there he went. I couldn't see the end of the runway, but I didn't hear an explosion or panicked announcements over the PA system, so I made myself relax. Finished my beer while reading my guidebook to the UK, dreaming of the day when I would be on a plane myself.

Alrighty, time to call the other mom and let her know Noah's cell number. Red flags went up again when the pay phone at the airport wouldn't work, no matter how many quarters I gave it or what number I dialed. Ruh-roh.

No big deal, Adesa, just find a payphone on the road and try again.

So tell me: have you tried finding a payphone lately? The damn things hardly exist anymore. I took exit after exit in an unfamiliar city, trying to find one. When I finally did, I used it to load the minutes onto the Tracfone that was to be mine for two weeks. I took off again, thinking I'd make all my other calls from the road.

Mwa-ha-ha! replied God.

Apparently, Tracfone did not program the phone properly, because after a bunch of attempts to many numbers, I could not get the damn thing to connect me to anyone, not even Tracfone itself. But I did manage to use 18 minutes of call time in the effort, which they damn well better reimburse me for.

By now, it's after 3 o'clock. Noah should have landed, and I'm flipping out. Frustration with the stupid phone situation had me on edge, I had a beer in me (just one, but it was a big one), and the mama bear in me knew my son had flown away. My brain was swarming with images of planes crashing and my baby being scared and alone while his plane was engulfed in flames, and of him standing in the enormous Atlanta airport wondering what to do and where to go and searching for Cori and of him having the same phone problems I was having and not being able to call her. I was losing it fast, and now I had to find another fucking payphone.

Just then, I spotted a sign for a rest stop, and intinct told me I'd find a phone there. They had three! Of course, the first one didn't work, leading to lots of loud "fuck"s and stares from strangers and smearing my mascara. But the second one worked just fine. I got right through to Noah, and asked if he had found Cori OK. He replied with that special tone of voice reserved for thirteen-year-olds, "Yes, Mom, I'm fine. I'm in their car now. Anything else?"

Shithead.

Once the drama was over, I realized two things. One, the charger for the Tracfone was in Georgia, so I wouldn't be able to use it after all. And two...

I get Noah's mp3 player for two weeks. Mwa-ha-ha!

Ma baby done flied away...

Noah flew --solo-- down to Atlanta to stay with his friends for a week or two (That's them, up above: the tall boy in the middle and his younger bro a few kids to the right in the dark jacket. Their little sis isn't in the pic). He had a four-day summer camp experience a few years ago, but this is the longest we'll have been apart. Ever. (sniff)

Actually, it's not quite sadness I'm feeling. It is sad that he's not with us, and that he's growing up and leaving his childhood behind with me, and that it's just not as funny around here without him.

But heading off on his own is such an exciting thing for him to do, and I feel that sense of adventure along with him. I remember how it feels to be responsible for yourself for the first time and how very thrilling that is.

And I have to say that I'm very proud of him. He's a cautious kid; he's not exactly afraid to try new things, but he sees potential pitfalls and treads carefully. He'd rather not do something at all than try it and have it go wrong.

Doing this --flying alone, to a huge, strange place-- is something he wouldn't have attempted for anyone but his best friend. OK, so the annoying little bro was a bit of a motivator, too... Still, he overcame his fears and nerves and made himself just do it. I can't believe he's the same kid that I had to drag, literally kicking and screaming, into the tubes at Chuck E. Cheese. (Note to Noah's friends who are reading this: he was only two years old at the time.)

(sniff) My baby's growing up. I'm left with the same feeling I have on each of my birthdays: that life is fleeting, passing me too quickly by; that I don't ever want this to end! This --this life I've made, that I'm living-- is not at all what I'd like it to be, but it's so much more in so many ways. I may be many things, have many interests, beyond motherhood. I may be a fascinating woman (I'm not, but I could be!) with many facets besides being a mother. But what do they matter, compared with this?

They just don't. Not to me, anyway.

Where the hell I've been

After almost a month of computer problems and mini-vacations, I'm back online. Finally!

Coming up tonight: The trauma of seeing my oldest fly away...literally.

Stay tuned.