This is Homeschool

Day 2

Well, I didn't exactly stick to my diet yesterday. But I did do pretty well, especially considering it was our co-op's Mom's Christmas Party last night. Lots of yummy food and alcohol to tempt me. Don't get me wrong; I definitely blew the diet. Big time. But not as badly as I usually do. And as someone always looking for the silver lining, I'm holding on to that thought.

I didn't exercise yesterday, nor did I get up early to run today (I was at a party last night, remember?). But now the exercise mat and the handweights are out, so I've made progress, right? RIGHT?!

Resolution

The hell with New Year's. The hell with starting on Monday. I'm going on a diet now -- today, this moment. I mean it this time!

A few years ago I joined a gym, stuck to a diet/fitness routine, and lost about 20 pounds. More importantly, I felt terrific. I never quite reached my goal, but I felt hot.

Then I gained about 8 pounds last holiday season, fell out of my routine, and eventually had to quit the gym. As a result, those 8 pounds? They're still with me. A year later, and I've not shed one damn pound!

Now, I know I'm thinner than a lot of moms, and many people would say, "Shut up, bitch" if they heard me complaining. But we all have body-image issues, right? I'm frustrated: I never made it to my goal in the first place, plus I feel like crap now. I'm frustrated because I know I can do it, since I've done it before. I'm mad at myself for slacking off.

And you know, I'm not getting any younger. If I want to have any chance of being a MILF, I've got to act now! Regardless of how I looked when I was exercising, I felt great; I miss that feeling. I'm probably close to the same size as I used to be, but that's not what it's about. It's about feeling saggy and sloppy and lethargic and old, when I know how to feel strong and sexy and young.

So, beginning today -- right now -- I'm back on the old routine. I might not have my beloved elliptical machine (though I'd take one off of anyone's hands!), but I've got handweights and an exercise band and FitTV and sneakers. I'm cutting back on carbs (which is the vast majority of what I eat), writing down every bite, taste, and lick, and counting my points.

I'm losing 5 pounds by Christmas no matter how little I feel like getting off the sofa. I will not wait for Monday or New Year's or any other date in the future. I'm taking action NOW, dammit.

So far today: I put on my jeans and they're tight. Ugh. Ate one egg (fries with spray, not butter or margarine). Drank a pot of coffee. Any diet that cuts caffeine is quack science, IMHO. I haven't exercised yet, but my foam mat is out and ready for me. It's been out for 2 weeks now, but let's ignore that fact.

I'd say so far, so good. Eight-thirty and only 2 points. I'll let you know how things look at eight-thirty tonight.

Who's with me?

Call the Optometrist

Aengus and I were watching the Transformers movie the other day. Again. It's a really good movie, but I've seen it enough, thank you.

Now, Aengus is a tough little guy. He rarely cries, unless he's really hurt. Every now and then he'll get upset enough, though, that he has an episode of what he calls his "eye problem." This is when his eyes "inexplicably" tear up, even though he's just fine.

"I don't know why my eyes do that, Mom. They just do. It's not like I'm crying or anything."

Yeah, ok, tough guy. Whatever.

So we're watching this movie, and at the point when Aengus's favorite guy (Bumblebee) is taken down, Aengus usually turns away or leaves the room or is suddenly very interested in whatever happens to be in his hands. It's a sad scene, done in slo-mo with mournful music. But he's a robot, for chrissake.

This time, Aengus stays on the sofa, watching intently as Bumblebee fights for his life. He catches me watching him wiping his eyes and says, "It's my eye problem again."

"It sure is sad when Bumblebee gets caught, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But he doesn't die, at least."

"If a person felt sad enough to cry about it, though, that would be OK. In fact, the director would be happy about that, since that is what he's trying to do: get you so involved in the movie that it really touches you."

"Yeah. But I don't cry. I just have this eye problem."

Sigh. Where did this kid come from?

Cult of Personality

Wow. For an online quiz -- which asked questions in a way that made me wonder just how accurate it could possibly be -- this one was eerily on-target. From the site [emphasis mine]:

"INTPs are relatively easy-going and amenable to most anything until their principles are violated, about which they may become outspoken and inflexible. They prefer to return, however, to a reserved albeit benign ambiance, not wishing to make spectacles of themselves." - INTP Profile (TypeLogic)

"The INTP is above all a thinker and his inner (private) world is a place governed by a strong sense of logical structure. Every experience is to be rigorously analysed, the task of the INTP's mind is to fit each encountered idea or experience into a larger structure defined by logic." - An INTP Profile (intp.org)

"INTPs live in the world of theoretical possibilities. They see everything in terms of how it could be improved, or what it could be turned into. They live primarily inside their own minds, having the ability to analyze difficult problems, identify patterns, and come up with logical explanations. They seek clarity in everything, and are therefore driven to build knowledge. They are the "absent-minded professors", who highly value intelligence and the ability to apply logic to theories to find solutions." - Portrait of an INTP (The Personality Page)

"The Architects' distant goal is always to rearrange the environment somehow, to shape, to construct, to devise, whether it be buildings, institutions, enterprises, or theories. They look upon the world -- natural and civil -- as little more than raw material to be reshaped according to their design..." - The Portrait of the Architect Rational (iNTp) (Keirsey)

"INTPs contribute a logical, system-building approach to their work. They like being the architect of a plan, because of the scheming and thinking involved, far more than being the implementer of that plan. Implementation tends to be drudgery. They are content to sit back and think about what might work, given their view of the situation. INTPs may ignore standard operating procedures. The hours that they spend are not what is important to them, but rather the completion of their thought process" - INTP - The Wizard (Lifexplore)

"likes solitude, not revealing, unemotional, rule breaker, avoidant, familiar with the darkside, skeptical, acts without consulting others" - Jung Type Descriptions (INTP) (similarminds.com)

And this explains SOOOO many things: only 2.5% of the entire population is an INTP type, and only 1% of females fall into this category. So it's not just that I feel like an oddball; I really am one! But I'm in good company: Lincoln, Einstein, Darwin, Adams (J.Q.), and the Olsen twins (Hey, they're billionaires. That's a good thing!).

And the Award Goes To...

I'll take that Bad Mommy Award back, Stephanie. This week, it's all mine.

Friday was Aengus's 7th birthday. A magical number, so the home educator in me thought, Harry Potter theme, magic everywhere! But Aengus wanted a Nintendo DS, so we used all the b-day budget and gave it to him. I figured hey, he'll see all his friends at co-op anyway; I'll bring a cake and we'll call it a party without all the expense.

So that's what we did. Aengus played with all his friends and had a blast. No organized games or crafts or anything (none that he participated in -- as usual), but plenty of full-on fun and a few presents to boot. I brought a cake, and we all had some, but it was very casual and disorganized. Hey, that's how I run. I said, "help yourselves," and they all did. It was cool.

Later that night, Grammy and Papa came for a visit. We had a brilliant time playing with Aengus's new toys and games. The next day Aengus had his last soccer game (against us parents -- I scored twice, but we lost because the dads were being all nice and gentle on the little beasts) and Aengus got a cool new trophy. We played together all day, then Papa treated us to Chinese for dinner (how does a man live 56 years without ever eating Chinese?!) and we watched a movie. All in all, it was a great day.

Sunday came, and my parents went. We did chores and chilled out. It wasn't until Aengus was in bed that I realized what I'd forgotten: We never sang, "Happy Birthday" to Aengus or gave him candles to blow out. Never, all weekend long. He never got to make a wish.

Childhood is so short; the time for innocence even shorter. How many chances do we get to believe that our wishes will come true, if only we get all those candles out in just one breath? I have a feeling this is the last year for Santa at our house; the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy will be the next to go. How long after that can Aengus's faith in wishes and magic last?

Yes, he'll probably get another birthday or two in which his faith will hold fast; one or two more chances to wish with all his heart then blow with all his body. One or two more chances, and that's it: Truth will set in, then cynicism will begin its slow takeover.

And I took away one of those few precious opportunities through sheer forgetfulness. What's the matter with me?! How could I forget such an important thing? It's bad enough that Aengus doesn't get bedtime stories or lullabies or any "mommy-and-me" activities. It's bad enough that my family rarely gets any veggies, let alone a decent home-cooked meal. And it's bad enough that my children often miss out on field trips and activities. Now I'm actively taking away their innocence.

Hand over that award, Stephanie. I'm the Bad Mommy this week.

The Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List

From the pages of Secular Homeschooling Magazine, Issue #1
http://www.secular-homeschooling.com/001/bitter_homeschooler.html

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 he'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!