It makes me happy to know that should the police ever come to my house, they would know immediately that I'm not a drug addict. They would know this because, if TV and personal experience are to be believed (and of course they are), drug addicts never have sheets on their beds. I am marginally neurotic about sheets on beds.
No one has ever tested me for drugs immediately post-childbirth. No one has tested my children either.
If you are having a difficult day and feeling slightly tearful, it is important that you not listen to anything by Joan Baez. Just put the Joan Baez down and step away. Instead, watch documentaries about meth addiction and be pleased that you change your sheets regularly and are not in rehab. Rehab (why is it always called rehab and never rehabilitation?) looks dull in that workshoppy way. You know, trust exercises and brain storming and listening to dull people take turns speaking while everyone sits in a circle. I wish to avoid all of these activities, which is why I don't want to go into teaching nor become an alcoholic. Plus this particular TV-rehab looks like it makes you bring your children.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Why My Child Needs to Narrow Her Horizons
Sinagpore Math is a very popular math program for home schoolers. It's supposed to teach children to think mathematically, broaden their horizons, and turn them into little math geniuses. Or something. Anyway, we were working on Math 1A. There is a picture of eight rabbits. Three are above ground. Five are below ground. Prompt: "Tell a story about these rabbits."
Munchkin: "Once upon a time, long, long ago, G-d created the very first bunny . . . "
Around about the time that Mummy Bunny met Daddy Bunny's eyes from across a beautiful spring field, I suggested we jump ahead to the part where she tells me how many bunnies there are.
"There are some bunnies, okay mummy? I'm trying to tell a story!"
We're doing Saxon Math for awhile now.
Munchkin: "Once upon a time, long, long ago, G-d created the very first bunny . . . "
Around about the time that Mummy Bunny met Daddy Bunny's eyes from across a beautiful spring field, I suggested we jump ahead to the part where she tells me how many bunnies there are.
"There are some bunnies, okay mummy? I'm trying to tell a story!"
We're doing Saxon Math for awhile now.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Homeschool Room
On Becoming Devoted commented on the last post about people who have a perfect homeschool room, nicely matched to their perfect homeschool life. I do not know how much space I would need to have before I could devote an entire room to homeschooling. I do know that we do not have that much room now, and I cannot foresee ever having it in the future.
Munchkin on the parsha: G-d told Noah He was going to flood the world, so Noah built an arch, so he could climb up on it to get out of the rain.
I am watching the movie Commune.
I do not normally watch movies because I have no attention span. I am trying to watch this one.
These people spent an awful lot of time naked. An awful lot. But their children are dressed like mine. What I mean is that my children have that non-Christian, west coast homeschooler look. "I dress myself." "Why of course my mummy lets me wear a princess dress and superhero cape to the grocery store. Doesn't yours?" You know the type. You can tell from twenty paces that my children are homeschooled, that mummy bakes their bread, and that they spent way too much time sleeping in mummy and daddy's bed. In other words, they scream "poor boundaries." It's charming to me, anyway. I always wear clothes though. But you can clearly tell that they're a bit feral.
Munchkin on the parsha: G-d told Noah He was going to flood the world, so Noah built an arch, so he could climb up on it to get out of the rain.
I am watching the movie Commune.
I do not normally watch movies because I have no attention span. I am trying to watch this one.
These people spent an awful lot of time naked. An awful lot. But their children are dressed like mine. What I mean is that my children have that non-Christian, west coast homeschooler look. "I dress myself." "Why of course my mummy lets me wear a princess dress and superhero cape to the grocery store. Doesn't yours?" You know the type. You can tell from twenty paces that my children are homeschooled, that mummy bakes their bread, and that they spent way too much time sleeping in mummy and daddy's bed. In other words, they scream "poor boundaries." It's charming to me, anyway. I always wear clothes though. But you can clearly tell that they're a bit feral.
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