As if I weren't having a hard enough time returning to blogging already, our internet has been down for nearly a week and was behaving quite poorly for over a week before that. Hubz, Cheez, and I all just thought our computers were having issues until we started talking to each other, which was right about the time Biz came over and got on his computer and informed us that we were having internet issues. Oh. And then it just stopped altogether. Apparently our cable modem is in its final stages of life or something like that. The cable company is coming to fix it tomorrow, hooray. Of course, they will be charging us a service call even though the modem technically belongs to them. Hmmm. All the more reason to switch to another service. We are running out of arms and legs to pay this one anyway. Funny how they hook you with a good price and then the fees go up and up...

Okay, sorry. You are not here to read about my internet woes. (What are you here to read about, anyway?) And I have only yea much time before this coffee shop closes and my computer and I have to go back to our home netless home.

I have oogles of headblogs clamoring to get out of my brain and onto the blog. Unfortunately, I can't blog, even here. There is a lovely duo here at this coffee shop playing some lovely gospel-y bluegrass-y music. Not only is it really difficult to not sing along; it is also really difficult to THINK! Blogging (unlike Facebook) requires thinking; ergo, if I can't think, I can't blog.

But I have to post something. It has been far too long. It doesn't take an abundance of brain cells to copy an old post, so while the majority of my brain cells are engaged in mentally singing along to "I'll Fly Away," the remaining few still in service have found an old post for you to enjoy.

This post was written a couple years ago after I had picked Spaz up from his second year at church camp. Tomorrow I will make the same trip, but I hope not to have the same conversation... 

As noted in my last post, Spaz was at church camp this past week. This was his second year.  Due to certain issues Spaz has (including, but not limited to, a tendency to go into meltdown mode), we were a bit hesitant last year to send him.  But Spaz is well-known, well-liked, and well-understood at church, and we had peace knowing that, whatever arose, he'd be loved and taken care of.  And he was.  One counselor stayed up talking with him til 2 am when he couldn't sleep one night, another calmed him out of his sole meltdown, and the camp nurse deftly removed the head of a tick from his upper thigh.  All in all, he had a great time, and his counselors, despite spending 4 days with a bunch of 9-to-11-year-old boys, seemed to have most of their sanity still intact.

It always helps Spaz if things are kept simple.  (Hint to other parents of KWADs: I also make sure HE is the one who actually puts everything in the suitcase, in hopes that it will help him remember what he has & where it is.)  So in preparing for camp, he & I packed "clothing rolls"-- socks, underwear, T-shirt & shorts rolled up and secured with a large file-size rubberband.  (Socks are not normally a staple around our house in the summer, but state law mandates that kids at camps wear socks and close-toed shoes.)  One roll for each day, plus one extra.  A couple 'pajama' rolls, too (which of course, since he is 11, are not actually pajamas, but rather T-shirts and knit shorts that he uses specifically as sleepwear).  He thought this was great.  I figured that, like last year, he'd come back with a couple rolls yet unworn, but it never hurts to be on the safe side.

Post-camp conversation at the ice-cream shop:

Mom (observing Spaz' filthy camp T-shirt, swimsuit, and lack of state-mandated socks):  So, Spaz, how many of the clothes we packed did you actually wear?

Spaz:  Um, what I came in.  Plus this shirt they gave me.  And I wore my swimsuit all the time.

Mom:  Spaz!!!  Didn't you put on clean clothes after showers?

Spaz:  ShowER, you mean.  I just put my swimsuit back on.  It was clean from the pool.

Mom:  You didn't by any chance wear your pajama shirts & shorts to bed?

Spaz:  The first night I did.

Mom (not really wanting to know):  And then...?

Spaz:  I told you, I wore my swimsuit the whole time.

Mom:  Ooo-kay.  And did you, perchance, use your toothbrush?

Spaz:  Yup!  Once.

Alrighty, then.

Though not apparent at camp & the ice-cream store, the smell became quite noticeable upon our arrival home, and he was sent almost immediately to the shower.

At least I don't have a ton of laundry to do.

*Sigh* Memories...

Well, the singing has stopped but the coffee shop is closing, which means it is time for me to go "Fly Away". Here's hoping we'll be hooked up again tomorrow.

I was shoveling mud off the cement curbing at the bottom of my flower garden a couple weeks ago when Fuzz skipped over to see what I was doing. For reasons we have never been able to determine, water and dirt collect in this spot, melding into a lovely soft mud, and it is a never-ending battle to keep it clear. Generally I don't bother to try, but with Cheez' open house looming, I was putting forth extra effort in all aspects of yard and garden, and this stretch of curbing was no exception.

"Shoveling all that mud off, huh?" was Fuzz' astute observation.

"Yup," I replied. "Not that it will make a whole lot of difference. It's supposed to rain tomorrow, and this will be full of mud all over again."

My ten-year-old looked at me, at the shovelfuls of muck, at the muddy curb, then shook her head and made her pronouncement.

"A noble but pointless effort," she sighed, and ambled away.

Gotta love a kid who tells it like it is, and in fine literary style to boot.

Cooperative limericks at the dinner table last night provoked a friendly debate as whether the word "grovel" ought to be pronounced gruv-el, as per the mother's insistence, or grah-vel, as per the eldest daughter's insistence. Debate was settled by the dictionary, which says both are correct. Likewise for the word "hovel".

Hence, contrary to the firmly stated opinion of Daughter Who Just Won Her School's English Award, the word "shovel" does indeed have at least two rhyming counterparts, thus rendering the phrase "There once was a man with a shovel" a perfectly valid opening line after all. Score one for the Mom Who Should Have Been an English Major.

By the time the debate was settled, it was of little value to the limerick in question anyway, as I had already changed my opening line to "There once was a man with an axe." This was a bit risky, as a couple of my children have a propensity toward violent poetry when given opportunity, and such a line gave obvious opportunity. However, the other tools which came to mind were not easy rhymers. "There once was a man with an edger" and "There once was a man with a pitchfork" really were not going to cut it. Besides, each of them had potential for graphically violent follow-up as well. So "axe" it was, and we did manage to get all the way around the table and complete the limerick without undue grossness. (This is even more amazing considering the fact that we just yesterday became embroiled in a heated dispute with the very organization with the power to levy something which begins with T and conveniently rhymes with "axe"... But that's another post.)

Anyway, you'll notice I was sort of stuck on this theme of outdoor tools, and I really couldn't tell you why that is. Men with shovels and axes make for rather lame openers. Generally our limericks start out along more creative lines. To wit: "There once was a windmill that sang..." "A girl who refused to eat salad..." Or --my personal favorite, from Eldest Son With Strangely Wry Sense of Humor-- "There once was a cow with no udder." (I'm not certain we were ever able to finish that last one, either because we couldn't find proper rhyming words or because we were too busy trying to regain our composure.)

But back to the whole pronounciation debate. After discovering the dual pronounciations for "grovel" and "hovel", I couldn't help but look up one last word. Wouldn't you? I mean, who among us wouldn't love to be able to dig every so often with a shah-vel rather than a shuv-el?

No deal. There is only one correct pronounciation for the word "shovel". I know, I am sad about that too.

But at least we all learned something, which only goes to show that every family ought to do build-your-own-limericks at the dinner table. And that every dining room ought to have a dictionary within easy walking distance.

Well, the busy busy month of May is over and so is all the graduation hoopla! Cheez graduated last Thursday, the graduation all-nighter that I helped to coordinate & chaperone was held immediately after, and then many weeks of preparation culminated in our big graduation bash for Cheez and Biz yesterday.

I can almost breathe again-- almost. I have a Kids' Club (Wed nite church) T-shirt project to figure out, exam tutoring at Cheez' school alma mater, and a wedding gift to make or buy this week. Then the wedding to attend this weekend and our Kids' Club trip to the Chicago zoo a week from today, and... and... and that's about it. Then I can really breathe and maybe even blog again.

Except that I was going to start "summer school extra lite" with the kids on the 10th. We'll see whether I actually do. Actually our last couple weeks of school (which we "finished" on the 22nd) were extra extra lite. Sometimes that's just what you have to do when life is busy.

Yesterday I scrambled til 5 pm, partied til 9 pm, hung out til 10, and cleaned up til 1:30. Today I looked at gifts and cards with Cheez until 3 am, slept til 10:30, decompressed over the phone with my mom til just after noon, decompressed with Cheez when she woke up at 1:00, and am still in my pj's at 2! My poor hubz worked just as hard as I did yesterday (although he went to bed several hours before I did) and has been hard at work since long before I was up. I'm a little spoiled, wouldn't you say? There is a truckload of cleanup still to be done, so perhaps I should get started on my day now.

I hope to be back in blogland a little more often now!

G is for Guess What I Did a Couple Saturdays Ago?

I was so eager to post these pictures right after the event... and then I fell asleep in my chair after uploading them, and then we had family coming over for mother's day, and then there were all sorts of things to be busy with, and that was the end of that lovely thought.

But I vowed that I would post them for you, my very bloggy friends, and so I am.

On a rainy Saturday morning, the ninth of May, my husband, younger kids, parents, and I sat in bleachers in a college gymnasium all dressed in our Sunday finery and watched eagerly for this:

Or more specifically, for this:

(Sorry the pictures aren't so great. High ISO, low shutter speed, and all that. Not sure why it didn't occur to me to bring the monopod for stability.)

And so we watched, and we sat, and we listened.

Because it all led to this:

And then they sat back down and the tassels were moved and then it was this:

And finally, this:

Are you catching the significant happening here?

He's. Wearing. A. Tie.

Before you go thinking that that isn't very significant, I should note that the last time I saw this kid --excuse me, I mean this young man-- in a tie was 2005. And I'm pretty sure the last time before that was 1998. (This is true; I am not making it up.)

So there you have it. T is for Tie.

Oh wait. The tie isn't what it was all about. Okay, I have it now:

G is for Graduate.

COLLEGE Graduate.

Yes, on May 9, I became the proud mother of a college graduate. WOW.

Oh, and the tie, we figure, was a requirement for his particular degree. Shouldn't tie ownership be a pre-requisite for everyone recieving a degree in Business Administration?

(And now you know how Biz got his blog name. It was the college major.)

I should add, however, that Biz decided at some point that he hates business administration. But rather than change his major, he went for two minors-- finance, which he likes, and English, which he loves. Like Cheez, he enjoys writing a great deal. (My kids, enjoying writing. Imagine that.) Also like Cheez, he really doesn't know what he wants to do. His required internship this past semester was actually not in the business administration field, as would normally be required, but in the publishing field. His advisor, believing in the importance of following what one really enjoys, made an exception for him. He loves it but isn't sure he wants to sit behind a desk all his life.

Tentative plans for the fall include heading to Eastern Europe to teach English through an ESL program. Paid adventure, he figures. I'm not sure he plans to pack the tie. And after that, well, who knows? He doesn't.

But whatever he ends up doing, he's given himself a good start in life. It hasn't always been a smooth road. I'm really proud of him for hanging in there and finishing out his degree.

Congratulations, Jared!!!

Cornerstone University, Class of 2009

No, I have not fallen off the face of the earth. No, I have not abandoned you all in favor of Facebook. I have just been crazy busy times 73 with two offspring graduations this month and all the accompanying hoopla and all the things I need to do, including things that I should have gotten done months and months ago.

Just so you guys know, I have some special pictures which I have determined are not going to be posted on facebook until after they have been posted here! But when that will be is anyone's guess.

Remember, I did say I was going to be "sporadic" this month. Let's just be realistic and change that to incognito. Or absent without official leave. Whatever works for you.

Two weeks and I will be able to breathe again...

And here is the real motivation for my return yesterday (er, early this morning) to blogging: a guest post over at Weird, Unsocialized Homeschoolers.

(If you don't immediately love that blog just for its title, you'll love it for its content. Besides, Kris homeschools way too much like I do.)

Me, a guest post! So yes, I suppose I have now "arrived" as a blogger. And by the way, if you've been reading my blog for a while, the post over at W.U.H. will probably sound familiar to you. That's because it's a rewrite of something I posted here last September.

I should clarify that this is not the reason I returned to blogging. You, dear readers, are the reason I returned to blogging. Well, and my love for writing, and the fact that I like blogging and I like my blog, and...  The guest post was simply my motivation for returning when I did. It was a good deadline. I wouldn't want people jumping over here from there and finding a blog hanging in limbo-land with its most recent post 3 weeks old already.

Oh, and if you are one of the people who clicked over from my guest post, Hi! I mean, welcome! (That sounds more professional and all.) But I hope you aren't thinking that you are going to find a veritable treasure trove of helpful homeschooling hints here, because you won't. My KWAD-schooling post on Kris' blog today is not my typical post. Even my homeschooling posts  are primarily anecdotal rather than informational. Makes for more entertaining reading. And after KWAD-schooling all day, I am all about writing for my own entertainment. Stress relief, you know. I'm not like Kris, who actually posts helpful stuff. Sorry. I do hope you'll find enough good stuff here to keep you coming back.

Back to my regulars-- While I am doing public service announcements and sending you to other people's blogs, I'll send you here as well. This is a brand new blog written by a real-life friend of mine. My blogging so inspired her that she finally took the plunge and started one of her own, as I have been encouraging her to do for some time! She's doing a good job, too, so go over and encourage her by reading her stuff! And let it not be said of me that I never inspired anyone.

(I think I have inspired my kids to do chores and schoolwork a few times as well, but that is generally accomplished via threats external motivations and therefore doesn't quite count.)

Happy reading. I'm off to try to get some school done.

And here I thought it was hard breaking the blogging habit. It was hard breaking the blogging habit. But you know what's been even harder? Getting back to it. It's like the longer I stayed away, the easier it was.

Especially when... um... well, when...

Okay, I have a confession to make. I actually ended my fast-from-unnecessary-internet-usage just over two weeks ago. Okay, almost two-and-a-half weeks ago. And even though I have continued during that time to neglect my blog, I have been consistently...

um...

well, I've been... on facebook.

I know, I know. *hanging head in shame* My faithful bloggy friends sit and patiently wait, and I am off running around with... you know, the "other" thing.

Yeah, you can say it. Philanderer.

I really did take a break from internet-- blogging, facebook, everything. I really did need to. And I really intended to blog again as soon as I broke my fast. I didn't think I could really stay away that long. I've never been able to before.

But the habit had been broken, and when I went to pick it up again, I was momentarily distracted. (It was a really long moment.) Because... well... it was so easy to just pop back into facebook. And I figured I'd pop back into blogging the next day or so, but I didn't.

Because facebook is so easy and brainless, whereas blogging is a lot like work.

You know, like, thoughts pop into my head-- little witty one-liners... okay, yeah, you know me better than that... little witty 12-liners is more like it. Anyway, little thoughts pop into my head, and previously I'd think, "Huh. I should blog that." And then I'd go, "Nah, too short for a blog post, never mind." And then I'd simply set the thought aside (yeah, as if) or my brain would start elaborating on it to turn it into a blog post, and I'd start writing and rewriting it in my head, and by the time I actually had time to sit down and get it into written words, I'd either (a) have forgotten it, (b) be too tired to write it, or (c) be up until 1:30 am getting it onto my blog.

Still. Get thoughts onto my blog I did, at least a couple-three times a week, usually. Because I needed that writing fix.

That was then. This is now. Now what happens is, little thoughts pop into my head. I go log into facebook, bang them out as a "status update", read new updates from friends, log out, and go back to whatever I was doing. Or I hold the thought until I get computer time, I actually remember it because my brain hasn't bloggicized it to death, and when I get a little free time, I log in and post it.

Three minutes, and I get my writing fix. Quick, easy, and virtually brainless.

And then if it's night and I'm tired, I bomb around facebook reading friends' pages and then play Bejeweled Blitz a time or three or twenty-nine and get to bed at 1:30 am anyway.

Sad, I know. Faithless, I know. And my foray into the world of facebook was bad, bad timing. Because if I hadn't had facebook there waiting for me when I ended my break, I most certainly would not have been able to stay away from blogland for this long.

So there you have it. I will await my court-martial.

But I have missed blogging. Really, I have. I am not in love with my mistress facebook. I have very mixed feelings about her it, in fact. It's fun and easy, and it's been a nice way to keep in touch with friends & relatives. I've even been "facebooking" with a long-lost, never-really-knew cousin, which has been really cool. But in many ways, facebook does not hold a candle to blogging. It's kind of... shallow might be a good way of putting it. There's a genuineness and a comeraderie among bloggers that really isn't there so much on facebook, at least not that I have seen. Although facebook is supposed to be all about "connecting", blogging actually seems to be better for building relationships. Maybe it's because bloggers write, and in doing so we share ourselves with each other.

One thing I do know-- when I posted here that I was taking a blogging break because of "family issues", I got bazillion genuine, caring comments. I am still getting them to this day. When I posted something similar on facebook, among people I actually know or am related to "in real life", I got zilch. Not that I was fishing for comments, but it was kind of hard not to notice the discrepancy. I actually ended up removing that post from my facebook page, because the lack of any response to it made me feel stupid about it. Apparently one doesn't say words like "family issues" on facebook.

Or whatev.

And so that naturally brings up the question that you all are wondering about: Are the family issues resolved?

Nope.

But as Jesus once said, "Family issues you will always have with you, but bloggy friends you will not always have." Or something like that.

Okay, that isn't what He said, and I shouldn't misquote Jesus. Perhaps if I were more reverent, I wouldn't have family issues. On the other hand, if I didn't have family issues, perhaps I would be more reverent, so round and round it goes. I'm in a mood that way. A couple of weeks ago I was feeling really rebellious and listened to Chicago's Greatest Hits on the way to church instead of praise & worship music. See?-- irreverent. But let's not go there.

Anyway. This has been a long rambling post about nothing in particular, which seems to me like a great way to get back into the blogging habit. Really, it was the only way I could do it. Every time I started trying to come up with a post, I'd give up and get lazy and go get on... oh, never mind.

So I'm back, I think, although I'll let you know right now that I am probably going to be really sporadic this month. I have two --yes, TWO-- kids graduating and all the accompanying hoopla, and there is stuff to be done, and more stuff to be done, and stuff that should have been done already but isn't. Not to mention homeschooling. And family stuff. So we shall see.

But I'm going to start catching up on reading my favorite blogs, and I'm sure that will help get me back into the bloggy swing of things even if I don't have much time to write. So yes, I will be here.

I am still rambling. that's because I have yet to come up with a good ending for this post. Must I? I think I'll just, you know, end it.

Like that.

It's good to be back.

I have been on somewhat of a blogging break, and I really ought to make it official so that I will stop cheating. (Cheating meaning -a- I'm still reading & commenting on some of my favorite blogs -b- I'm still somewhat head-blogging and thinking about potential posts -c- Worst of all, my last two posts were actually made during my supposed break.) I have already declared an official Facebook Fast. So okay, I am now officially on a Blogging Break-- for a week or two, maybe even three.

That was more difficult to write than it sounds. I *heart* blogging.

We are having "family issues" over here and it is just way too easy for me to escape into cyberspace rather than deal with real life. But deal with it I must, and die trying.

(Taking a blog break is kind of like dying. You know, in the "dying to self" sense of the word.)

I could write lots more about this. Some of it I have already written, in my head. There it will stay, I think.

*Sigh*

Breaking (up) is hard to do. But it is not forever. I shall return. Perhaps as early as next week. Perhaps not.

Back to the ABC Photos, and posting "N" early in honor of World Autism Awareness Day...

N is for Napping Nephew

Of all the pictures I have taken in my life, this ranks among my very favorites.
I love the snuggly blanket, the bare toes, the peaceful countenance.
I love the way he looks just like any other kid.

This is my beautiful 10-year-old nephew DJ.
Like most kids, he's a little angel when he's asleep.
Like most kids, when he's awake, it's a different story.
Except that DJ isn't like most kids. His is a different story.

At Grandma's
he doesn't run to the playroom with his cousins.
He doesn't laugh and shout with them.
He doesn't even talk to them.
He stays with the adults
walking in circles
jumping up and down
hanging out by the food.
When I say hello to him, he doesn't answer
but he might grab the chip out of my hand
take a bite out of it, then give it back
with a mischievous grin.
I think that means hello.

So many cousins
playing, laughing, giggling
coming down the stairs all decked out
in dress-up clothes from the playroom trunk
sitting around the table on the porch
playing badminton in the yard
opening presents in the den.
DJ doesn't join them.
DJ isn't like them.

Yet he is
every bit as precious
as any of them
especially
in the sight of God
his maker.

 Pray for Autism Now

Fuzz is my budding Word Nerd and Lover of Dictionaries and Thesauruses. (Thesauri?) She loves looking up synonyms to use in her writing assignments and she loves finding out the meanings of words she comes across in her reading and during conversations. This has seemed to increase since she was given a huge tub of Nancy Drew books a month or so ago; apparently books written in the 1950's contain a veritable storehouse of fascinatingly unfamiliar words for an inquisitive ten-year-old. She is constantly either asking what words mean or looking them up herself. I think this word-fascination of hers is great fun.

Today she asked me what "tantalize" meant. Before I had a chance to answer, she was already looking it up in the green paperback student dictionary which she'd stolen from her brother's desk because "he never uses it anyway". (This is true.) She discovered that to tantalize means "to make miserable by showing something desirable but keeping it out of reach."

Fast-forward to this evening. Hubz & the youngers are in bed and I am on the computer. I hear little footsteps come up the stairs and realize that Fuzz has been in bed for over half an hour and I have again forgotten to go down and tuck her in. She's still a Mama's girl and my going down to her room to tuck her in bed a few minutes after she goes downstairs is still an integral part of our routine.

Except when I forget, as I have been doing lately.

"Oh," I say, sincerely apologetic . "Did I forget to tuck you in again?"  Getting up hastily from  the couch, I head toward the stairs with her. As I follow her back down, she sighs and laments, quite clearly:

"Three nights in a row of tantalizement..."

In other words, I suppose, I am making her miserable by keeping the much-adored tucking-in ritual just out of her reach. I tantalize her with promises of comings down and tuckings in and then fail to deliver.  Or something like that.

Okay, so maybe she gets only 4 out of 10 for usage. But give her a 9 for effort and 9.5 for vocabulary.  And the cuteness factor is definitely off the charts.