Literally!

We are finally getting around to doing something I've wanted to do with the kids for years. We are going to try our hand at raising butterflies!

As pathetic as this is, the educational/fun potential of such a project has never been enough to motivate me. What it finally took was a realization that if we do this, there could actually be some relevance between my blog title and my blog. I know, that cheapens the whole thing, doesn't it? But not to worry, the kids will never know that it wasn't their need for nature study but her own selfish cyberhobby reasons that drove their mother to the educational supply store in search of a Butterfly Garden kit , or that these same reasons prompted her to mail off the coupon for caterpillars when it usually takes an overdue notice to prompt her to mail off ANYTHING.

And you know, as long as I'm at it, I might as well let the kids get involved. The caterpillars came yesterday. There are five. According to the package they will have all formed chrysalids (?-not sure about the plural) in 7-10 days. We'll then transfer them to a larger container made from netting and in another week or so, we should have Painted Lady butterflies.

The most difficult part for the next few days will be keeping the girls, especially Peanut, from terrorizing the caterpillars. Peanut likes to watch animals that move. She's an impatient child. Caterpillars sometimes go for long periods without moving. If you've ever seen Finding Nemo, and can recall the scene with the dentist's niece and the fish in the bag, you'll understand my concern.

To be continued.....

Fun with Spanish

Allison at Olive Plants inspired me with her Rosetta Stone post.

I've always had an interest in teaching the girls a foreign language at a young age because the young child's mind is said to absorb information like a thirsty sponge.

However, it is also said that no matter how fluently you learn to read a language, if you don't regularly use that language in conversation, chances are not good you will ever fluently SPEAK it. For that reason and others, the girl's foreign language instruction has been rather spotty.
I was glad to get Sissy in a group Spanish class this year.

Still, we've had a good time 'playing around' at learning Spanish over the last couple of years.
Here's how it started.



Peanut received a free book in the mail every month for awhile and one month, to my delight the book she got was bilingual. It was called "Ana Cultiva Manzanas" and was about an apple farmer named Annie. It told how Apple Farmer Annie grew apple trees and how she picked ripe apples and all the things she did with her apples. She made applesauce and apple pie and apple juice and she loaded her truck up with apples and took them to the farmer's market where she sold apples. And because the word "apples" is used about twenty times on each page, and the word "manzanas" is used about twenty times on each of the Spanish pages, it was easy to figure out that "manzanas" is Spanish for "apples".



I know, my brilliance is blinding. Anyway that little book sparked an idea to check out Hispanic books in the children's section of the library. I think we've done it a total of three times in the last two years. Remember, I said it was spotty. We've checked out very simple children's books in Spanish, books that we either own in English, or have read so many times that we don't need to own it because we have it memorized . Knowing the English version ver batim, along with the repetitive nature of children's book's makes it not too difficult to translate individual words.



For example, in the book , "Eres tu mi Mama?" (Are You My Mother?) we read:

El gatito no era su madre. We also see a picture of a kitten.

On another page we read:

La gallina no era su madre. Here we see a picture of a hen.

And suddenly you're Einstein. " Oh my GOSH! " you say excitedly. " El gatito means THE KITTEN!! And la gallina means THE HEN!! Isn't that exciting , girls?!?

"Girls?"

You look around and realize you're alone in the room reading a book written for a five year-old.

And your teenage son is standing in the doorway staring at you with an expression of mixed amusement and concern.

We have another Spanish book checked out right now -- "Huevos Verdes Con Jamon".

OK quick, what's the English title? By the way, it really bugs me that I can't type an accent mark or an upside down question mark when I need to.

Time's up! The English title is...................."Green Eggs and Ham".

"Ese Juan Ramon, ese Juan Ramon! No me gusto ese Juan Ramon!"

(falls over laughing) I just love that line.

Name That Offertory!

"That sounds like "The Bear Went Over the Mountain",

Peanut observed in church last night.

Ohh, I'm sorry.

The correct answer is "Oh, How I Love Jesus".

Try again next Sunday!

What We Did Yesterday

Anyone who has read more than a few of my posts will know that my writing style is somewhat..... eclectic. Yes, that's a good word. "Eclectic" sounds so much better than "inconsistent".

Sometimes my posts are reflective in nature, sometimes they're just silly, and other times when I want to record stuff we've done , but don't have time to embellish, all I write is a straightforward narration.

This is one of those times.

What We Did Yesterday

8:00 a.m.

Slept until this luxurious hour, since Keith worked until 1:00am Friday night, and I couldn't go to sleep until he was home.

Spent most ofthe morning piddling around the house.

11:30 a.m.

Left for the girl's soccer games - Peanut played at 12, Sissy at 1. Peanut's team won 5-2. Sissy's team lost 6-1. (This made for an unpleasant ride home). Both girls played hard and were hot, tired, and a little sunburned when we got back home.

3:00 p.m.

Came home and just chilled for a while, since we knew we were leaving again .

4:30 p.m.

Went to the birthday party of a nine year-old friend of ours.

His parents are two of our oldest friends and we don't get to spend time with them nearly enough any more. They were camping at a nearby state park and the party was there. The kids played and got dirty and we ate fried trout and birthday cake and had a great time.

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.

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9:00 p.m.

Back home with two tired girls -- got them showered, read to and tucked into bed.

Wrote the post about snowplow painting , surfed awhile, talked to Keith

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10:30 p.m.

To bed after a busy but very good day

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So that's how we spent Saturday, September 22, 2007.

Nothing extraordinary, no life-changing events ...... just the stuff the sweet life is made of,

like sleeping in, hanging out at home, soccer games, and good times with good friends.

And lately, I am increasingly thankful for days exactly like this.

Snowplow painting and other school highlights

Yesterday we met other homeschoolers at the city public works for the annual snowplow painting. One of the homeschool Dads works for the city, and for the last few years area homeschoolers have been invited every fall to paint the city snowplows -- not the whole thing- just the blades, er scoops, ....you know, the business end of a snowplow. This was the first year we got to be part of it and the girls had a wonderful time. They were basically turned loose with paint of all colors and brushes of different sizes to create their own murals that will be seen up and down city streets this winter.
The girls woke up expecting a regular school day, and I surprised them when I told them what we were going to be doing. It was in the car on the way to town that I heard what I've been wanting to hear for a long time --

"I'm glad we don't go to school!!"

I've really been trying harder this year to make school more fun. In the past, I haven't taken them on a lot of field trips or spent as much time on hands-on learning activities as I know they would like.
It's not because I haven't wanted to...... it's just that things like trips and crafts and such usually require some planning, and I'm not a very good planner.
On second thought, I'm actually a great planner. I'm just not a good follow-through-with-the-plan-ner.


But I've done better so far this year. In fact, I'm starting to think I might need to pace myself.


This year so far our field trips have included:

a local gem mine, the fire department, a new natural history museum, and snowplow painting


In keeping with the more hands-on stuff resolution, we've :

dressed like the ancient Romans, painted Celtic designs , did the whole monk/calligraphy thing I posted about earlier, made Justinian and Theodora paper dolls and clothes, and made Empress Theodora crowns.

For some people, this may be next-to-nothing, but I'm telling you, for me it's a LOT. I just hope I can keep it up.

............Of Playground Rhymes and Roger Miller Songs

(and is there really a difference?)

Just got home from afternoon classes , and of all the academic enrichment she had experienced in the last two hours, the thing Peanut couldn't even wait until we got to the car to tell me was this:

"Guess what (Friendly Little Classmate) taught me? It's SOOO funny!! Listen. It goes, 'Trick-or-treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat! If you don't, I don't care, I'll pull down your underwear!" (Cracks up laughing)

Ah, yes. Good old socialization.... that element of childhood
development so very critical for learning the really important things -- like "trick-or-treat, smell my feet". And now, Peanut was going to be spared untold problems that plague adults who never learned it.

My little exercise in mental sarcasm was rudely interrupted when Peanut proudly said,
" Yeah, and you want to know what I taught HIM? "

Uh-oh.

She told me, and with some effort I supressed an absolutely wicked laugh, Yes, it gives me a good measure of satisfaction to know that it's highly possible Friendly Little Classmate's parents are being serenaded right this minute with these immortal words:

Dang me, dang me

They oughta take a rope and hang me

High from the highest treeeeeeeee

Woman would you weep for me?

Doodoodoododoodoo!

Don't you just wish you could peek into their minds?

The girls are taking two afternoon classes each at a university model school which meets on Tues. and Thurs. They both take Science , Peanut takes Art, and Sissy takes Spanish. Last Thurs. when I picked them up, Sissy told me she was having a Spanish quiz today and needed to study this weekend.

Now I should mention that Sissy is the more serious of the two when it comes to studying or being prepared for something. This is a trait she must have picked up from her father. Unfortunately for her, she DID get her short-term memory gene from me. What that means is when there's a deadline or a "thing-to-prepare-for" coming up, she's initially very gung-ho, to the point of not possibly being a child of mine. Then she quickly forgets all about it until, oh, the day of the event. THAT'S when she goes into panic mode .

So back to the Spanish quiz today. We had a busy weekend as always and I remembered the quiz, but knew we'd have plenty of time during school today to review . When we had finished her regular work for the a.m. , I casually mentioned we needed to review her Spanish vocabulary.
I don't think I can type the sound she made but you know the one. I call it screaming backwards -- you inhale sharply while making some sort of sound that means "OH NO!!!!!" I told her to calm down, we went over the material the teacher had given her to learn -- basic stuff like "how are you"? "I am well", etc. and I went off to do something else. When I came back through the room, she was intently reading one of her own books -- My First Thousand Words in Spanish."What are you doing"?, I asked. "You're going to confuse yourself".
She looked at me as if I had just asked her name and answered with the frustration of someone who's being asked to state what should be clearly obvious to the asker. "I'm studying for my Spanish quiz!!"
???? "What do you think you're going to be asked on your quiz?" I asked her.
"I don't KNOW!" she tormentedly shot back .
So I told her that I felt sure her teacher would only quiz her on material she had been taught, and she felt much better.
There are just certain things you assume your kids know. But sometimes their own little misguided ideas take root in their minds . It never occurred to me that she would think she was responsible for knowing 1000 vocabulary words when the teacher had only covered 20.
It makes me wonder -- what else does she have her own mistaken ideas about?

I'm not raising children - I'm raising adults

I read that on Sallie's blog Everyday Me a few days ago, made a joke in her comments about how I could use it to help my blog title make sense. Today at a meeting I heard someone else say the same thing 'we're not raising children -- we're raising adults.' I think maybe it's being called to my attention. So let's see.... I'm raising adults which, biologically speaking fits my Raising Butterflies blog title better -- but that doesn't go with the description under my blog.
Wait, I think I've got it. My children are like butterflies in the carefree way they run and play, and in that if (when):( I'm unnecessarily harsh with them, I can bruise their 'wings'/confidence.
But because they still have a lot of growing to do physically and spiritually, they're not full-fledged 'butterflies' -- but that's what I'm growing them to be -- adults.

Clear as mud??

Allrighty then.

So yesterday we played monks

When we began this school year, one of my goals was to do more hands-on activities related to what the girls are studying. This week we read about the making of books in the early Middle ages, and about the lives of monks who copied books in rooms called scriptoriums and often elaborately decorated the margins and the first letter on each page .

The girls read two beautifully illustrated books related to this process. Across a Dark and Wild Sea and Margeurite Makes a Book. Then they tried writing with a quill pen, using grape juice as ink. The activity book that goes with our History book provided an outline of a huge ornate letter for the girls to decorate with markers. We had seen some photos in library books of actual pages over a thousand years old that were decorated in this manner. The intricacy of the designs is really amazing considering the time period.

For lunch we had what might have been a typical meal at a monastery - lentil soup, cheddar cheese, apples, and water. There was going to be brown crusty bread but I forgot to make it :( so we had crackers instead.

MMMmmmm good! Much better than our usual Campbell's Dora soup. The girls had fun helping me make the soup but I was the only one who actually liked it.
My family thought it was weird that I posed food and took pictures of it. I tried to tell them it made for more interesting recordkeeping but I don't think they bought it.

To Whom It May Concern:

In my post below, the reference to "Presbyterian deep-thinker types " was intended as self-deprecating humor . I find myself attracted to the blogs of those with whom I share similar interests. As it turns out, some of my favorite blogs are written by Presbyterians and I hope I didn't offend any of them. Personally, I would consider it a compliment if someone called me a "Presbyterian deep-thinker type". :)

Charlotte Mason Would Roll Over in Her Grave

OK. I've put a lot of time and effort into perusing the blogs of, and connecting with several Presbyterian deep thinker-types in the hopes that my IQ will spike a little. At the very least I was hoping I might SEEM smarter than I actually am, if only by association. I am now about to risk losing all the intellectual networking for which I have worked so hard -- but I am nothing if I'm not truthful. So here it is.

My daughters read Junie B. Jones. Every book in the series that they can get their hands on. They're crazy about her. I don't remember how it started, really. At the library I imagine. The girls are devious about waiting until my arms are aching from the weight of REAL books I'm carrying around, and then flashing the Berenstein Bears or Arthur in front of me while talking simultaneously (they plan it in advance, I know they do). And I.... well, I'm weak.

So I'm pretty sure that's how Junie B. found her way to our house. Then in no time I had a couple of diehard fans. They discuss her books with each other, they pretend to be her, they write their own little "books" after the style of her (shudder). If the interest of one daughter starts to die down, the other will fuel it once again into a raging inferno, and vice versa.

There. It's out. I feel a little better now. Only please don't hold it against me. They read and are read lots of stuff that isn't "twaddle." Look at my book list on the right. We read C.S. Lewis for crying out loud. Sometimes I even use a British accent when I read Narnia to them. Doesn't that count for something?!?

Wonderful Website for Book Lovers

I just found Library Thing on someone else's blog (Dominion Family I think?) and have been happily entering titles of books I own so I can have a nice little inventory all in one place. There's even a nifty widget that lets me show a sample of my books by cover right on my blog. Too cool. If you click on My Library you can see the rest of the books I have entered so far. I'm thinking I'll have to do this in stages. The ones I have listed have been our favorites . We also have a fair amount of junk disguised as books . But that's another post.

Overheard at my house recently

Peanut (on what she did in Art class and sounding a little miffed):

"....and we colored with primary colors, but the only primary colors the teacher could find were red, blue, and yellow".

Hmmm. Sounds like somebody wasn't listening when the teacher defined primary colors.


In History, we read how the evangelization of Britain began in the early Middle Ages when the pope saw some blond Anglo boys in the Roman slave market and asked where they were from. One of the review questions I asked Sissy was "How did the pope find out about Britain"?

Her answer: "He went to the people store."

I know. It's terrible but it just struck me as funny. People store. As in, "Honey, could you stop by the people store on your way home? We're all out of barbarian slaves ".

I know. I'm sorry.

Should children attend adult worship service?

In this morning's church service four children were baptized. Each had family and friends attending, so there was a bigger crowd than usual. On our pew and the pew in front of us there were a total of five children ranging from 4-6 years old and Sissy, who just turned 8. I saw other children sitting with their families, all over the sanctuary.
About halfway through the sermon it occurred to me that these children were not distracting anyone's attention from the service. Were they all sitting perfectly still ? No. Were they giving the pastor their undivided attention? No. They were quietly drawing on the backs of bulletins, or looking at hymnals. They moved around in their seats, but not excessively considering their ages. One of them forgot to use his "whisper" voice once, but was quickly and gently shushed and that was that. A couple of them sang along during congregational hymns. During baptism, they watched intently while parents or grandparents narrated in whispers.

These were not unusually quiet and obedient children. Interestingly, two of them have reputations for being just the opposite --in a classroom full of other children.

Wow. Could it be that children act out less often when you take away the peer group? Could it be that children could not only "sit through" but actually participate in and benefit from church services?

I believe it's important for our children to spend time learning to worship in "big church".
One of the greatest blessings a parent can have is to lead her children through the elements of group worship. Many people cringe at this idea, imagining worst possible scenarios of disruption caused by their children. I used to be one of them. This is a very valid concern -no one wants to sabotage the worship experience of other people sitting nearby.

What we've found though, is that when it comes to kids and the extra movement and noise they make in church, most people are not as disapproving as we think. In fact, most people understand. They see you being consistent. They know that you're trying. Many of them have been there and remember the challenges of teaching "church service behaviour" to young children.

The book Parenting in the Pew by Robbie Castleman is an encouraging resource for this and I highly recommend it.

Thursday Thirteen ............... Happy Birthday Dad!

Thirteen random things about my Dad, in honor of his birthday.

1. He's 71 years old.

2. His hometown was submerged by a lake created by the TVA in the 1940's.

3. He has a dry, sometimes hard -to- distinguish sense of humor.

4. He is addicted to homegrown tomatoes.

5. He runs five miles a day.

6. He is an encyclopedia of major league baseball trivia.

7. He has very good taste in womens' clothing.

8. By that I mean he picks nice gifts for my Mom!!

9. His last name is the German word for 'locksmith'.

10. His first name is so unusual, he goes by 'Bud'.

11. He lets my daughters run with butcher knives.

12. Not really. (See number 3, it's hereditary). But he does let them do just about whatever they want.

13. I love him very much despite this..

Absolute Control and Outright Rebellion -at the ripe old age of six

"What can I do now"? asked Peanut.

Mmmm......read a book? Play with one of your, I don't know.... kajillion toys?
"...or do whatever I want"?
Noooo....... you can't do whatever you want. There are many things you can't do right now because it's too close to bedtime. What you can do is read a book or play.
"But you know Mommy, I really can do whatever I want".
No, honey, you can't. Didn't you hear what I just told you?
"But people can do whatever they want. Even if they get in trouble for it, or get hurt, or die. If they don't care if they get in trouble, or get hurt, or die, then they can go ahead and do whatever they want."
Hmmm. I suppose so.
"Then that means I can do whatever I want"!
Wait a minute..... would you really do something you knew you would die from doing?
"If I really wanted to I would. I don't care if I die."
There was no anger or defiance in her voice.
There was no "I know I'm going to heaven, so it's all OK"

She said it quite cheerfully, in the same manner she might say: I don't care if you paint my toenails pink or blue.
A little shaken, I gave her the only response I could think of:
Well, I care if you die, so don't be doing anything you could die from OK?

We've always known she was a control freak. When she was three she would make a game out of handing out colored blocks to whoever was sitting around. She would always offer the recipient a choice of two colors. "Mommy do you want the red block or the blue block"?
The color would be chosen - "I'll take red".
And the block would be given - invariably in the color that was NOT chosen. We could not understand the point of asking our color preference in the first place. Why not just go straight to giving the-color-I-want-you-to-have block? Seemingly, it wasn't enough for her to be in control. She wanted everybody to know she was in control.
And now this "I can do whatever I want" discussion. Basically she's saying, "I don't care what the consequences are, nobody's going to tell me what to do".
I think I've got my work cut out for me.

And to illustrate the opposite extremes that are my daughters, just a few minutes after my somewhat disturbing exchange with Peanut, Sissy was reading a book and I told her she had to stop reading at 8:00. "OK", she said. "But can I finish the sentence I'm on?"

Because the end of summer is here....

I made a list of some of our family's memorable (to us) or frequently repeated quotes from summer '07 :

" I can't believe I'm real! "!

~Peanut

"Can we go to Pappaw's"?

~ Sissy

"I got a job".

~Brother

"Mommy, have you ever had a feet hug?"

~Peanut

"You should've seen the bass I caught, Mommy! It was hooj"!

~Sissy

"What can I do now?"

~Peanut

"Wow! I just did a flip!! That was so awesome"!!!

~Sissy

after being knocked off her raft by a wave at the beach

"We don't eat those".

~ 3 year old cousin , referring to Legos.

"Mommy, can Jesus breathe under water"?

~Peanut

"I'm getting up at 4:30 in the morning".

~Brother (Ha).

"She's bossing me around"

!~Sissy

"She won't play what I want her to play"!

~Peanut

"We had fun while you were gone Mommy ! Brother gave us "Death Crawl" rides!"

~Sissy (?!?!?)

"....and Dear God, please take care of Mammaw"

~Peanut

It's Sunday so I'm Switching Gears

I really am going to get back to the original purpose of this blog tomorrow. Because my sense of humor can sometimes be dry and hard to distinguish, and because my posts have been somewhat schizophrenic lately, I'll provide a helpful mood compass for my post today. Here it is.
I'm going to be serious now.

In Sunday School, we're studying Breakfast with Jesus by Greg Laurie. Today's lesson was on Double Vision - guarding against keeping one eye on spiritual matters and one eye on the world. Pretty convicting stuff. In Laurie's words:


Those (Christians) who grew up in church sometimes struggle terribly with this issue. They know what's right but the world seems so attractive to them. It feels alluring, seductive- mainly because they have never known it's full power and destructiveness.


(now here's the kicker)
So they don't necessarily go for the world whole hog.

They just flirt with it.

Ouch!

How many ways do I flirt with the world? More than I'd care to admit in a public forum. So I'll just focus on one. Music is one of the areas I dip my toe deepest into worldly waters. A fair helping of what I listen to (to the extent that I get to listen!) is secular. I could devote whole posts, if not an entirely separate blog to the music I love and why I love it. Reviewing music would be a dream job for me. (I've always wanted to use words like 'jangly' and 'rollicking'. I don't know why) . I can easily see myself living without television. I break out in a cold sweat at the thought of living without music. I'm just trying to provide some reference here. I really love music. Now, if I use the Scriptures as my standard ......

• Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. Phil 4:8

..... I find the content of some of my music doesn't hold up ....it's unworthy of "thinking on".
But, I could quickly point out that none of it has lyrics that are morally reprehensible. I've never heard a Death Cab for Cutie song. Rappers who brag about cop- killing and girlfriend-assaulting have never appealed to me. On second thought, rappers in general have never appealed to me. Neither do the girl groups whose stage presence always seems to be long on suggestive choreography and short on clothing OR the "emo" bands whose songs are defined by dark, hopeless lyrics.
See, I could list example after example of secular music that is sooo much more worldly than what I listen to .......


But then I'm letting the world be my standard. Sigh.

It's so easy to feel OK with decisions you make when you're only flirting with the world.

The Campaign is Winding Down.......

and I have a small but intimate collection of comments now, procured in a variety of ways.

1. I badgered my friends and coworkers


2. threatened my parents


3. hacked up a classic song


4. cleverly inflated the numbers with my own comments


5. and impersonated my husband -- with his consent. Sort of.

I mean, doesn't the absence of dissent define "implied consent"?

Say ..... I ask my husband if he's OK with me signing his name to a comment I write myself, with the understanding that said comment would be part of a brief , playfully romantic dialogue with me, and would be entirely in keeping with something he would actually say, should he be so motivated.

Say .... the response I get is a snore from the direction of the recliner. That gives me the green light doesn't it?


Yes, I think I've milked this little comment campaign for just about all its worth. But not quite.

The one tactic I have not yet employed is bribery. I've been saving that for my pastor. See, I happen to be familiar with a particular weakness of his, and I believe the man can be bought. I'll be speaking with him tomorrow.