Dear Homeschool Experience,
I want to first say that I have been more than pleased with my homeschooling as a child. I loved the freedom and flexibility that it offered. I didn't ever feel like I was missing out on anything too important.
Until today.
I was happily blog surfing and stumbled upon a blog post about a treat this lady learned to make in 7th grade home. Now, I have always laughed at the things people made in home ec. After all I had baked bread,made cookies and brownies for years. I knew how to make a full home cooked country meal. I laughed in the face of English Muffin Pizzas and doughy pancakes.
So, today, I snickered at this treat. Cinnamon Snails. Ha! Flattened white bread (white bread!! How plebeian!), smear of cream cheese, rolled in butter and cinnamon sugar. Easy peasy. I could do that with my 6 year old. (Not a 7th grader. Ha!) So, my baby girl and I started making this treat, chatting and enjoying our time together. I popped them in the oven, set the timer and read a chapter in my book. Never realizing how much I had missed by not attending public school. I pulled out the snack, let her try the first one and sent her out with a bowlful to share with her brothers. I sat down to munch on the couple I had left aside for my snack.
Well, shut my mouth. Crispy, buttery, sweet bites of deliciousness! I have missed out. I feel cheated that I am almost 36 years old and have never tasted a Cinnamon Snail before. I have a lot of time to make up for. Honey, bring home a loaf of bread. Mamma needs a snack!
Licking my fingers and knocking the kids down to steal their Snails,
Lark
PS I can't find the original blog post. But I looked up the recipe for you. You'll thank me later. http://www.cdkitchen.com/recipes/recs/146/Cinnamon_Snails58711.shtml
Little notes to the things in my world. Come on over and read my mail.
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Monday, June 27, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Destiny
Dear Children,
When I was little my daddy assured me that when I grew up I would turn into a boy. That all little girls grew up to be boys and all little boys turned into girls. Now, with a nostalgic twinkle and gentle smile, he tells of my response.
"When I grow up I want to be a mamma!"
I have always wanted to be a mamma. To have a house full of kids, running and laughing and playing is my idea of bliss. The joy and open mouthed wonder a two year old has at the first sight of a ladybug makes me feel a resurgence of life in my own heart. Watching the lightbulb flicker and then burst into brilliance above a child's head when they figure out that they are READING! Really, truly, absolutely READING for the first time makes my heart swell and out bubbles blissful laughter. Hearing two siblings, who have been mortal enemies for years, now quietly visiting and gently playing have me quietly wiping thankful tears.
This is what I have always longed for.
The long nights of post surgery births, the painful pull of stitches, the bumps of excited brothers looking at the new baby brought joy to my spirit. Here was a new life; full of wonder and love and delight to share.
Endless dirty bottles, always smelling of spit up, blown out diapers; put in the proper place of context were just a momentary hardship.
Temper tantrums, lies, spilled milk; were the training ground for the future battles I would face.
Personalities, temperaments, learning styles; all unique, never duplicated in other siblings made me learn to adapt and be flexible, stretching me in ways I never expected.
Research, racking my brain and stretching my resources, searching for the answer to what was wrong in hearts and minds has been duly rewarded with progress and change. That filled me with hope. Lessons learned through the hardest of times carry me on still today.
You children have shaped me. Changed me. Filled me up and wrung me out. You make me laugh. Weep. Scream. You challenge my mind. You stretch my heart.
And I wouldn't change it all for anything.
Love forever,
Mom
When I was little my daddy assured me that when I grew up I would turn into a boy. That all little girls grew up to be boys and all little boys turned into girls. Now, with a nostalgic twinkle and gentle smile, he tells of my response.
I wailed.
"When I grow up I want to be a mamma!"
I have always wanted to be a mamma. To have a house full of kids, running and laughing and playing is my idea of bliss. The joy and open mouthed wonder a two year old has at the first sight of a ladybug makes me feel a resurgence of life in my own heart. Watching the lightbulb flicker and then burst into brilliance above a child's head when they figure out that they are READING! Really, truly, absolutely READING for the first time makes my heart swell and out bubbles blissful laughter. Hearing two siblings, who have been mortal enemies for years, now quietly visiting and gently playing have me quietly wiping thankful tears.
This is what I have always longed for.
The long nights of post surgery births, the painful pull of stitches, the bumps of excited brothers looking at the new baby brought joy to my spirit. Here was a new life; full of wonder and love and delight to share.
Endless dirty bottles, always smelling of spit up, blown out diapers; put in the proper place of context were just a momentary hardship.
Temper tantrums, lies, spilled milk; were the training ground for the future battles I would face.
Personalities, temperaments, learning styles; all unique, never duplicated in other siblings made me learn to adapt and be flexible, stretching me in ways I never expected.
Research, racking my brain and stretching my resources, searching for the answer to what was wrong in hearts and minds has been duly rewarded with progress and change. That filled me with hope. Lessons learned through the hardest of times carry me on still today.
You children have shaped me. Changed me. Filled me up and wrung me out. You make me laugh. Weep. Scream. You challenge my mind. You stretch my heart.
And I wouldn't change it all for anything.
Love forever,
Mom
Monday, March 14, 2011
Pinch This!
Dear Pennies,
I sincerely apologize for the unceasing pinching I have put you through lately. I hope you understand. It's not that I don't want to rub two of you together. It's just that you look so wrung out after all the squeezing I do.
I would really like to try that deal where you save one to earn one. Is that kinda like a buy one get one free deal? Or is it some sort of pyramid scheme? It does sound a little too good to be true.
Why is it that they say they'll pay one of you for someone's thoughts, but if I wanted to tell them what I was thinking then I have to give them two cents? Seems slightly suspicious to me. If they want my thoughts so badly, you would think they would be willing to cough up that extra penny. And frankly, I think my opinions are worth a lot more than that. But I often give them away for free.
I ought to rethink this situation.
But mostly, Mr. Penny, I wanted to thank you. I know you often hear how useless you are. How we should just do away with you altogether. And that must be really discouraging.
I thought you ought to hear how I appreciate you. You allow my little boy to feel generous. You see, I never give him silver coins. But you, I'll give. That allows him to share his money and feel like Daddy Warbucks. That makes you special, Penny. I wonder, do you ever notice how a kid's face will light up when he picks you up off of the ground? You must feel so neglected, lying there. But you give joy and generosity.
And it only costs a penny.
I sincerely apologize for the unceasing pinching I have put you through lately. I hope you understand. It's not that I don't want to rub two of you together. It's just that you look so wrung out after all the squeezing I do.
I would really like to try that deal where you save one to earn one. Is that kinda like a buy one get one free deal? Or is it some sort of pyramid scheme? It does sound a little too good to be true.
Why is it that they say they'll pay one of you for someone's thoughts, but if I wanted to tell them what I was thinking then I have to give them two cents? Seems slightly suspicious to me. If they want my thoughts so badly, you would think they would be willing to cough up that extra penny. And frankly, I think my opinions are worth a lot more than that. But I often give them away for free.
I ought to rethink this situation.
But mostly, Mr. Penny, I wanted to thank you. I know you often hear how useless you are. How we should just do away with you altogether. And that must be really discouraging.
I thought you ought to hear how I appreciate you. You allow my little boy to feel generous. You see, I never give him silver coins. But you, I'll give. That allows him to share his money and feel like Daddy Warbucks. That makes you special, Penny. I wonder, do you ever notice how a kid's face will light up when he picks you up off of the ground? You must feel so neglected, lying there. But you give joy and generosity.
And it only costs a penny.
That's my two cents worth,
Lark
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Book Gestapo
Dear Banned Book List,
You have on your list some of our very favorite books. The kids and I have shared chapters from Huckleberry Finn, James and the Giant Peach, My Friend Flicka, and even Little Red Riding Hood.
I was surprised to find some of my favorite books, ones I consider classics and "must reads" like To Kill a Mockingbird. And others that we have read in lit class for our schooling. Lord of the Flies, Silas Marner, and imagine my surprise to find even the Dictionary listed!
I was wondering, could we switch some of these out for a new candidate? You see, my middle son has found a new love of reading Calvin and Hobbes books. At first I didn't see any problem. At least he's wants to read, right? Begging me for a few more minutes each night seemed like a good thing.
But, Book List, these books are dangerous....
They are causing a metamorphous in my little boy. It started with little phrases. I asked him to do a chore and he told me he wasn't feeling enthusiastic about that chore and he shouldn't have to do anything he didn't feel enthusiastic about.
Now my boy prays for snow so that he can make morbid snowman art in the front yard.
But I fear the change is almost complete. You see, now they are starting to not only sound alike and act alike but even LOOK alike.
You have on your list some of our very favorite books. The kids and I have shared chapters from Huckleberry Finn, James and the Giant Peach, My Friend Flicka, and even Little Red Riding Hood.
I was surprised to find some of my favorite books, ones I consider classics and "must reads" like To Kill a Mockingbird. And others that we have read in lit class for our schooling. Lord of the Flies, Silas Marner, and imagine my surprise to find even the Dictionary listed!
I was wondering, could we switch some of these out for a new candidate? You see, my middle son has found a new love of reading Calvin and Hobbes books. At first I didn't see any problem. At least he's wants to read, right? Begging me for a few more minutes each night seemed like a good thing.
But, Book List, these books are dangerous....
They are causing a metamorphous in my little boy. It started with little phrases. I asked him to do a chore and he told me he wasn't feeling enthusiastic about that chore and he shouldn't have to do anything he didn't feel enthusiastic about.
Classic Calvin smart mouth symptoms.
Now my boy prays for snow so that he can make morbid snowman art in the front yard.
 |
| By Bill Watterson |
But I fear the change is almost complete. You see, now they are starting to not only sound alike and act alike but even LOOK alike.
 |
| Calvin |
 |
| Not Calvin |
Please, for the sake of my children. Ban Calvin now. Before it's too late.
A concerned mother,
Lark
Monday, February 28, 2011
Nostalgia
Dear Nostalgia,
I am always surprised at where you pop up. Last night was a complete side swipe of my emotions. And you are to thank for it. There I was, hanging out at Arctic Circle with my little kids, watching them play on the indoor playground. I was minding my own business. I was not festering about my oldest child's upcoming 14th birthday. I was not internally lamenting the passage of years. I was simply hanging with the littles, killing time.
And you snuck up on me. Like a cougar lying in wait for its prey. And me? I was the juicy ribeye.
You, Nostalgia, snuck in behind a cute little family with an adorable little 3 year old boy. He wasn't the spitting image of my boy-man, but.... He was wearing a little bomber jacket just like the one I had for my son at that age. And when this adorable little child turned around to tell his daddy, "Watch me! Daddy, watch me!" as he climbed up the playground like a "big" boy, I about lost it. Instantly you completely possessed me, and I flashed back to when my little boy-man was that size and would say, "Watch me, Mamma, watch me!" with excitement in his little lispy voice.
Nostalgia, I blame you for my near breakdown at Arctic Circle. It took all of my self control to not go over to those complete strangers and shout for them to treasure that moment. That moment that had just happened. Because in a flash that boy would be a boy-man and would no longer talk in a sweet little voice, but in a crackling-finding his way to being a man kind of voice. And they would miss it, that moment, and it would be gone in the passage of time and pursuit of the next milestone. And they would wish it back.
So thanks, Nostalgia, for making me fight the urge to be a crazy woman at the local burger joint. Next time could you just schedule an appointment?
Wishing for another sweet little boy moment,
Lark
I am always surprised at where you pop up. Last night was a complete side swipe of my emotions. And you are to thank for it. There I was, hanging out at Arctic Circle with my little kids, watching them play on the indoor playground. I was minding my own business. I was not festering about my oldest child's upcoming 14th birthday. I was not internally lamenting the passage of years. I was simply hanging with the littles, killing time.
And you snuck up on me. Like a cougar lying in wait for its prey. And me? I was the juicy ribeye.
You, Nostalgia, snuck in behind a cute little family with an adorable little 3 year old boy. He wasn't the spitting image of my boy-man, but.... He was wearing a little bomber jacket just like the one I had for my son at that age. And when this adorable little child turned around to tell his daddy, "Watch me! Daddy, watch me!" as he climbed up the playground like a "big" boy, I about lost it. Instantly you completely possessed me, and I flashed back to when my little boy-man was that size and would say, "Watch me, Mamma, watch me!" with excitement in his little lispy voice.
Nostalgia, I blame you for my near breakdown at Arctic Circle. It took all of my self control to not go over to those complete strangers and shout for them to treasure that moment. That moment that had just happened. Because in a flash that boy would be a boy-man and would no longer talk in a sweet little voice, but in a crackling-finding his way to being a man kind of voice. And they would miss it, that moment, and it would be gone in the passage of time and pursuit of the next milestone. And they would wish it back.
So thanks, Nostalgia, for making me fight the urge to be a crazy woman at the local burger joint. Next time could you just schedule an appointment?
Wishing for another sweet little boy moment,
Lark
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