Musings and learned wisdom on being a homeschool mom, help meet to my husband/leader, and growing Christian who is learning what it means to love God and share this love with a lost world. http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/ en-us Homeschool Blogger Mon, 2 Nov 2009 21:45:00 -0600 Mon, 2 Nov 2009 21:45:00 -0600 I stated in my last post that our beloved cat, Cookie, is missing several teeth. In fact, a few years ago we had them extracted (see 1/27/07 post). Our wallets are still smarting. Since our cats have been outdoor cats, I was unaware how poorly Cookie’s food was digesting, or should I say NOT digesting. Since keeping her indoors, I had been cleaning up episodes of cat nausea twice a day. I was concerned, not to mentioned grossed out. Fortunately, our vet is not sheepish about charging the typical rate for full feline exams, which included x-rays that showed nothing. I have often been tempted to ask, “since there’s nothing there, can I get my money back?” This works well, I suppose, if you buy a toy that doesn’t work, but It doesn’t quite carry over into the world of medicine. I walked out with empty pockets, yet no definitve answer as to why Cookie was unable to digest her food. Before her appointment that day, I had braced myself for the possibility that we might not bring this sweet affectionate cat home again, but was happy to learn after her exam that she was stuck with us for a little longer. Since Cookie tends to swallow her food whole after losing those teeth, the only advice the vet had for me was to soak her food with some water so she could chew it easily, which might help her digest it. He was right, but the deed is almost as nasty as, well…the alternative I’d been living with. Have you ever seen a bowl of cat food that was left out in the rain? That’s exactly what was on the menu for poor Cookie. Surprisingly, she took it well. I, on the other hand, looked at the soaked concoction of mush I WILLINGLY created and thought, “I can’t in good conscience serve this up to her.” But serve I did. There’s NO WAY it tastes nearly as good wet as it does dry, but she manages to clean her bowl without complaint. On a side note to my kids, WATCH AND LEARN! The biggest challenge (as if you didn’t know this was coming) was Mitzy. Oh, she kept her food down fine. The problem is, she had no trouble keeping Cookie’s food down either. Picture the scene: Cookie is staring at me with starving eyes, looking pathetic with her bony, undernourished frame. I quickly scoop some food into her dish and pour water over it. Then I set it up where she can’t get to it until it’s soaked through fifteen minutes later. In the meantime I turn my attention to getting my nine-year-old out the door for school--a task for which all moms should earn a medal, I might add. Once he’s the bus driver’s problem I turn back to the bowl I prepared for Cookie--to find Mitzy has slunk over and consumed it completely (envision more than mild irritation here. Trust me--you won’t overdo it). Now I have to start all over again, scooping, soaking, and this time hiding the bowl behind a closed bathroom door, all while Cookie follows at my ankles and stares at me like Oliver Twist. Challenge #2? Trying to keep Mitzy’s DRY food away from COOKIE. Once I realized Cookie was not going to wait patiently for her homemade paté, I had to find a suitable place to keep Mitzy’s bowl where she alone could get to it. Thankfully, because she’s a younger cat, she still has some serious spring in her step and can easily leap to a high, deep windowsill we have in our finished basement--something Cookie can’t reach. So now her dish has a permanent spot there. It looks lovely, really, nestled in between all my tasteful décor…really. Okay, I hate it there, but I’m desperate. I’m waging a war against soiled carpets and mush under my feet. Disgusted yet? Now you know how I feel. Anyone hungry for a snack?... I have the technique down to a science now. The first thing I do after dragging son #1, kicking and screaming, out of bed, is go straight to the laundry room to prepare Cookie’s breakfast, which I then shut up in the bathroom until it’s ready. I also scoop some food into Mitzy’s bowl and place it in the high windowsill. Then I prepare human breakfasts for a while before returning downstairs to give Cookie her bowl, therby quelling her “stare of guilt.” The funny thing is, even though Cookie knows she has delayed gratification coming, she never ceases to act shocked that I do not serve up her food the minute it is scooped into the bowl. And I’ve learned never to mistake her silence for patience. Just the other evening Ryan and I sat in our family room and watched in shock as our dear geriatric cat, out of nowhere, decided to try an impulsive leap to the high ledge herself. She fell short, of course, but just barely, putting up a good fight. I think there are a few claw marks going down the wall where she clung for dear life, watching that coveted meal slip further and further from view. At least she didn’t hurt anything but her pride, which doesn’t cost an arm and a leg to be repaired. Stay tuned for Episode Three in the cat trilogy, which I’m just itchin’ to write (painful pun intended). http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/741598/ Mon, 2 Nov 2009 21:45:00 -0600 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/741598/ We recently reintigrated our two cats to exclusively indoor living. While they have enjoyed the freedom the great outdoors allows, they developed the nasty habit of wandering into neighboring yards and leaving presents of the unwanted kind. I never heard complaints per se, but the elderly woman next door called one day to say she observed someone in an official looking truck (animal control?) which had pulled up to the single woman’s house across the street, where our cat, Cookie, happened to be lounging. I took that as a sign that not everyone feels the same way about our felines as we do. As it turns out, we later discovered that this woman LOVES Cookie, and had no idea she belonged to us. She even gave her the name “Domino,” and has enjoyed her affectionate nature. While I can’t be certain that anybody actually called Animal Control, I still thought it wise to keep them inside. "Why not put collars on them," you say? Tell that to the cats, who have managed to come back at the end of the day with theirs missing…several times. Since their imprisonment they have made it understood in no uncertain terms that they are displeased with the arrangement. There are several ways they have communicated this: 1. An insanely full litter box. While I realize that the litter box was rarely used while they were outside cats, there’s NO WAY on God’s green earth they could have consumed enough food to produce the piles I am scooping and dumping on a daily basis. I know I have some corks around here somewhere… 2. The meowing…no, the whining…the INCESSANT WHINING at every door, window, crevice, crack in the wall, you name it. These cats are serious, and not about to give up, even three weeks into their solitary confinement. 3. The sassy behavior. Actually, I pin this one totally on Mitzy. She was ornery from the moment we got her, but became much more settled once I introduced her to the outdoors. She tasted freedom, then had it cruelly snatched away. I am never to be forgiven and shall have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of my life…or perhaps just the rest of hers, which will be greatly shortened if she so much as swats at me from the top of the refrigerator just ONE MORE TIME! 4. The refusal to compromise. This one is worth spending some time on. Now, folks, we all know cats in general are not instinctively leash friendly, not to mention averse to water (but that’s another painful blog). If a cat owner wants his/her pet to tolerate a leash, he/she had better start young. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Mitzy was already three years old when I inherited her, and Cookie was at least five when she was adopted, and is now knockin’ on borrowed time. I’m not sure of her age, but if her lack of teeth is any indication, she at the very least should be taking Geritol. But I digress…. I wanted Mitzy, in particular, to venture outdoors once in a while, so I told my husband I was going to buy a leash and harness and see if I couldn’t break her in. He advised against this, but I talked him into it with my powers of persuasion (which is really just me wearing him down to the point of exhaustion. It works rather well). He said I would never be able to drag that cat anywhere on a leash. It turned out he was wrong. I indeed, DID drag that fool cat (literally) all the way across the street and back, with her hissing and howling at me, a sight which I probably could have charged admission for. Either that cat is incredibly stupid or incredibly stubborn, because, despite having her beloved fur mangled by the surface of the cold asphalt street, she chose to lay on her side, legs stiff as a board, while making noises that would have put the fear of God into a Doberman.  This went on for several minutes before she managed to wriggle out of her harness. I wouldn’t have minded that so much had it not taken me two hours to get that blasted, God-forsaken, octopus-like, blankety-blank contraption on. I’m not really sure how I managed to wrap that thing around her body and still come away unscathed, but let me just say it took two cans of tuna fish before I was successful. It was a small price to pay for unbroken skin. A word to the wise: If you see an invention hanging from the pet store shelf that requires you to reach under your unwilling cat and through her front legs to attach straps to tiny little clips, keeeep walking! Stay tuned for Part Two: The Chef’s Special (subtitle: What lengths you’re willing to go to so your cat will stop barfing all over the house); and Part Three: The Flea Circus http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/741589/ Mon, 2 Nov 2009 21:01:00 -0600 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/741589/ While last year's Chrismas tree adventure may never be topped, I am aware (mostly through personal experience and the stories of others) that there are many other holiday fiascos that could inspire anyone to shout "bah, humbug!" So, in keeping with what may soon become tradition, I give you this year's offering, how to repair that wonderful invention, the string lights. This is my story... 1. Eagerly dig lights out of storage and plug them in to ensure they work. They do. 2. String them on the tree after children have gone to bed (this is to avoid having to pull broken glass out of little feet.) Being anal retentive is key here. Wrap the string of lights two or three times around each branch (Martha Stewart style) to make sure they stay put and the wires are camouflaged. 3. Stand back and admire tree. 4. The next day, decorate the tree with the children, with Nat King Cole and Perry Como singing in the background on the CD player. 5. Observe in horror that the middle string of lights has been extinguished. 6. Search throughout tree for offending bulb, using handy bulb tester. 7. When you are unable to find the bad bulb, resolve to strip tree of ornaments, and remove the lights from the tree. Make a mental note to send hate mail to Martha Stewart for influencing you on how to carefully wrap each branch with this now tangled monstrosity. 8. Not wanting to spend money when you don't have to, lay lights across floor and proceed to remove each bulb and test individually. 9, Realize that tester has died because son played with it. Send husband to store to buy new tester. 10. Using new tester, check each bulb. Bark at children who feel the need to keep stepping on the lights, despite the fact that you are not in a high traffic area. 11. Replace several bulbs to no avail. 12. Admit defeat and spend the three bucks to get new lights. Restring tree and hang ornaments. 13. Now on to the garland. Plug in another string of lights, which work, and begin wrapping them around your fifteen feet of garland. It looks beautiful and you can't wait to hang it outside. 14. Unplug and carefully carry the garland/lights to your front porch, where you proceed to attach it to railing. Plug in. 15. Resist the urge to swear when lights refuse to illuminate. Examine bulbs. 16. Unattach garland and drag back inside. Yell at children to stop stepping over the garland and to get the heck out of the living room so you can work on these darned things in peace. 17. Unwind light string from greenery, which by this point, being old, is shedding little fake green needles all over the floor and is starting to show bald spots. 18. Not wanting to spend another DIME on new lights, proceed to yank EACH AND EVERY bulb from its socket and test in bulb tester, which you realize works only part of the time because it was made in China, where people don't celebrate Christmas, so what do they care if it works? 19. Massage sore fingers. Yanking 100 bulbs out of their sockets hurts, people! 20. After checking the light fuses and replacing about 15 burned out bulbs (since bulbs are apparently like women and don't like to do anything alone), the string will still refuse to light, and you are left witih no choice but to purchase more. 21. Buy new strand and rewrap garland. Your efforts are finally rewarded with illuminated garland. 22. Make travel plans for next Christmas to avoid having to decorate. ...and to all a good night!   (p.s. I would love to hear your holiday fiascos. There are some great stories out there that need to be told. If you're on Facebook go to my homepage and look for Biggest Christmas Fiasco. If you're not on Facebook you can just post them in the comments section here. After all, what good is a holiday disaster if you can't laugh about it? My family will take a vote on the one we think is the best story. The prize? A string of my very own lights...lucky you.) http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/627893/ Thu, 4 Dec 2008 08:02:00 -0600 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/627893/ During the recent presidential campaign, The recurring theme was our economy, and understandably so. Each candidate had ideas and philosophies as to how he would fix the economic crisis. I'm not an economist, and I haven't the desire to add my 2 cents...I haven't got it to spend anyway. But something has occured to me that will be disappointing for some: No president can ever successfully create a long-standing, stable economic climate in the U.S. None. Why? Because I believe we can never stabilize the economy on a national level unless it is dealt with on an individual level. So now your next question is "how in the world is my family's spending choices going to affect America's economy?" Allow me to paint an overly simplistic picture (because, as I said, I'm not an economist, merely a homeschool mom trying to figure out what's in the freezer for tomorrow's dinner). Family #1: Wife drives to the mall in her middle class $340/mo sedan for a little shopping therapy as an alternative to sending the kids to military camp. She finds a pair of jeans, perhaps some shoes, and a skirt. To round out the evening she grabs a coffee at Starbucks. Therapy sessions occur every three or four weeks, averaging about $100 each time. Husband works demanding hours and collapses at the end of each day in his easy chair to unwind in front of his $50/month cable network programming. He eats some leftovers from yesterday's dinner out, where the food bill came to $65. They eat out roughly twice a month, not including occasional fast food trips or pizza delivery. The three children, temporarily spared from military camp, are enrolled in basketball camp instead. They are involved in several sports throughout the year. Let's see...that's three pairs of cleats, uniforms, socks, shin guards, and sports fees. Hmmm...ignorance is bliss. The list of expenses incurred for one thing or another is almost never ending. Several Christmas presents, vacations and Girl Scout cookies later, this family has spent somewhat within their means, but it's getting harder and harder to keep a low credit card balance with a 23% interest rate. Then the car they still owe three year's worth of payments on breaks down and requires a costly repair. A month later, the hot water heater has to be replaced, and the refrigerator is making funny noises. The paycheck can cover some of these things, but the credit card absorbs the rest. Within a few years, this family finds itself $80,000 in debt. The husband gets laid off and it has become clear that they will not be able to make the monthly payments on their home. Unfortunately, many families across the U.S. are experiencing the same financial crisis, and the banks are not getting their money in mortgage payments. Lending becomes too risky for financial institutions. People become unable to sell the homes they need to get out of. You see where this is going. Family #2: Husband and wife sit down every four weeks and discuss the spending needs for that month (groceries, clothing, entertainment, household repairs, etc.) They have a written budget unique for that month which addresses their needs. The wife reminds the husband of a large tax bill that will be coming due in four weeks. They decided to put off purchasing some patio chairs until after the tax bill is paid, even though it means not having them available for their daughter's backyard birthday party. They opt to borrow some chairs from neighbors and family, even though they won't all match. Trips are deferred, sports are pared down, and the cars are a bit beat up and high on miles, but are few months away from being paid off. They live in a modest home, save on groceries by shopping at a discount mart, and shamelessly appear in the Goodwill store to find a replacement for their son's worn-out tennis shoes. It's slim pickin's right now, but they are managing to add about a hundred or so into savings with every paycheck, without fail. There is temptation to spend what has not been written into that month's budget, but the numbers don't lie, and they know that once their foolishly obtained credit card has been paid off and they have a substatial amount in savings, they'll be able to afford a more reliable car that they can pay for in CASH. In the meantime, they have factored about $50/month in car repair bills for what they consider to be the inevitable. If they manage to dodge the bullet that month, they roll over that amount into the next month and keep the duct tape handy. It's already holding the back bumper on. They look at that car lined up in the church parking lot in between the SUV's and sportscars and laugh to themselves. It looks pretty funny there out of place, but they just keep repeating their motto to themselves: "If you live like no one else, someday you will live like no one else." That quote comes from Dave Ramsey, talk show host and financial guru who went from riches to rags to riches before learning the principles he teaches today in his TV and radio segments, as well as in his book "Total Money Makeover." Go to the library and get it...now. Ryan and I are just beginning this journey. We are realizing our mistakes and our goal is to be debt free (except for the house) in about a year and half, Lord willing. It's gonna be tough, and it won't be fun, but we're in it together. We don't want to be another failure statistic, and we don't want to be forced into depending on the government, however good it may be, for our needs. We have dreams of the kind of house we want to live in someday, and the vacations we will be able to take, if God allows. Whatever we accomplish financially, we want it to be by our own hand, through hard work, resourcefulness and a lot of temporary self-denial. Yes, we do still give to worthy causes (church, etc.) and we place faith in the Lord that He will provide for our needs, while keeping in perpsective that it is our responsibility to work with what He has already given us. And it starts with the little things. Perhaps Dean Alfange put it best:  An American Creed I do not choose to be a common man. It is my right to be uncommon-if I can. I seek opportunity not security. I do not wish to be a kept citizen, humbled and dulled by having the state look after me. I want to take the calculated risk; to dream and to build, to fail and to succeed. I refuse to barter incentive for a dole. I prefer the challenges of life to the guaranteed existence; the thrill of fulfillment to the stale calm of utopia. I will not trade freedom for beneficence nor my dignity for a handout. I will never cower before any master nor bend to any threat. It is my heritage to stand erect, proud and unafraid; to think and act for myself, enjoy the benefit of my creations and to face the world boldly and say, "This I have done." So go ahead and tell the president, "thanks, but no thanks. I think I've got it covered." And hold your head up high. http://www.daveramsey.com/   http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/619619/ Fri, 14 Nov 2008 21:00:00 -0600 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/619619/ I know I am not alone here. It's time for moms everywhere to UNITE in our battle cry, to be heard round the world and in homes everywhere!   KIDS, FLUSH THE TOILET! It seems that no sooner do many of us train our husbands to put the seat down, we're faced with another commode conundrum that is much more distasteful. I've tried scolding, and it doesn't work. I had hoped that reminders alone would get the idea drilled into their heads (like that ever works). Then I remembered one woman who told the story of going on vacation with the family for several days, only to return to a stench-filled house because one of their teenaged boys neglected to flush before they left. My oldest is eight. I don't think I can handle ten more years of this. I decided today to employ a more creative approach to the latest potty training issue. The new rule is, if you don't flush it, you have to scrub it. And that's exactly what Son #1 got stuck doing today. Not just the inside of the bowl either. Uh uh. He had to wipe the outside with a disinfecting wipe as well. Might as well make it memorable. I'll let you know how it goes. http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/616609/ Sat, 8 Nov 2008 21:00:00 -0600 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/616609/ There I was...stranded...in a remote, wooded area, trapped by fear and worry, wondering how on earth I would escape what lie before me. That's right. I had locked my keys in the car at Mingo Creek Park. Now, just so you're aware, I was not alone. In fact, there were several people nearby who were witness to all of this. The kids and I were at the park for a homeschool class on animal skull identification, which took place at the shelter across from the parking lot where my now useless car sat, me thumping my fist against the window in despair. Emily sat, clueless, on the curb, sipping the drink she had begged for that brought me back out to the car in the first place. Thankfully, while cell service is spotty out there (and downright useless when one's cellphone is on the wrong side of the vehicle) one of the park staff who was teaching the class let me use hers, which got great reception. I had to call Ryan out of a meeting to look up the number for Roadside Assistance through our car's serivce plan. As luck would have it (not on my side as it was), they cover many things...locked cars were not one of them. When they told me it could still be done to the tune of $75, I asked them to transfer me to AAA, who were willing to restore my life for only $50. And, no, I'm not a member of AAA because I have Roadside Assistance...you can see how nicely it worked in this situation. Once I witnessed how easy it was for the guy to actually break into my car, it would have been hard to cough up the dough were I not so grateful. By that time the kids' class was done. While I was bummed I didn't get to listen in, I still learned a few things, like... Rule #1:  NEVER lock the door using the button on the door panel. If I had followed through in using my keychain remote I would have realized I'd left the keys on the passenger seat where I laid them to get a drink for my pestering four-year-old. Rule #2:  The next time someone pesters me for a drink, they ain't gettin' it! http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/616590/ Sat, 8 Nov 2008 19:26:00 -0600 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/616590/ I went clothes shopping for my four-year-old daughter a few weeks ago. We found some adorable outfits on clearance from Boscov's, which was going out of business. I was so excited when the weather turned colder because she could finally wear them, but was sorely disappointed. The shirts were so skin tight I could hardly get them on, and the jeans were low rise. Every time the poor girl bends over or plays on the floor, the top part of her bum is out there for everyone to see.  Even finding dresses that are a decent length are difficult to come across. I realize not all girls are as energetic as mine, but when my four year old gets to running around in church before Sunday School starts, she forgets what she's wearing and the skirt flies up. A lower hemline would certainly help. Thank goodness tights season is upon us. At least her polka-dot undies won't show again until spring! What part of "little girl" are the clothing manufacturers missing? Four-year-olds are not teenagers, for crying out loud, and I have no desire to make mine look like one, but it has become increasingly difficult for me to find decent fitting, modest clothing for her. Must I REALLY whip out my sewing machine and somehow learn overnight how to sew something appropriate for her, or worse, spend big bucks a children's boutique? Okay, enough about that. On to rant #2. It's halloween time again. Now...I am not here to examine whether or not a Christian should participate. There are plenty of websites to go to for that, and I don't want to be one of them. I remember going trick-or-treating as a kid. Kooky Spooks comes to mind (anyone remember those? Perhaps I need to post an old pic)! My dad once wore a sheet and hid behind our bushes on mischief night. Whenever the boys in our neighborhood attempted to soap our car's windows or toss toilet paper over our trees they were met with a surprise that sent them out of their skins! I have lots of good memories, and memories are what I long to make for my kids. Unfortunately, the only halloween memories they've made so far THIS year are images of an eight-foot-long inflatable of the grim reaper riding a carriage pulled by a huge black horse with red eyes. That's on display at the entrance of the local grocery store I won't be able to take my kids to until November. My middle son, in particular, is frightened by it. I'm not quick to blame it on Asperger's, but I'm sure it doesn't help. I just wish that retailers would keep the littler ones in mind when they put up their displays. One house down the street used to be inhabited by a rather eccentric family that went all out for halloween. Their front yard was like an outdoor haunted house complete with Michael Jackson's "Thriller" blasting on outdoor speakers. My little girl, then two, was terrified to even go past the house. During my childhood the scariest thing I think I ever encountered while out begging for candy was a jack-o-lantern. Totally lame by today's standards. I know that the temptation is to up the scare factor in order to achieve new heights of complete and utter terror, but are we as citizens forgetting who the halloween festivities are for? It's for the kids...right? Perhaps, just perhaps, I myself am turning a blind eye to what the whole "holiday" represents. The emphasis on witches, ghosts, goblins, and the glorification of gory killers in the movies...is this honoring to the Lord? But there I go. I wasn't going to bring up a debate. Sigh...I am done now. I feel better. http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/603762/ Sun, 12 Oct 2008 18:21:00 -0500 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/603762/ I know how important questions are to learning. We observe something, we ask questions, we get answers, we learn. And as a parent I'm supposed to foster my children's inquisitive nature. But it seems there are just some questions that can't be answered. Take my middle child, for example. He doesn't ask questions about why the sky is blue. I can answer that one (believe it or not). No---he asks "mom, why is our CAR blue?" "Um...because that's the color Daddy and I wanted."  "But WHY is it blue."  Sigh...."Because that's the color the men painted it."  "But why did they paint it BLUE?"  "BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T PAINT IT GREEN!" The thing is, with "Aspie" kids, asking that question once is never enough. Off and on since we've bought our newest minivan (which is blue, in case you haven't caught on), he has asked this question, not necessarily because he's looking for a satisfactory answer, but because children with Aspergers Syndrome tend to fixate on a particular subject, discuss it with total strangers at the grocery store every time we go there, draw picture after picture of it for weeks, perhaps months, and discuss the subject until the parents are on the brink of madness. And, of course, they will ask endless, often unanswerable questions about it. Here's one for you, brought up during snack time: "Mom, what does the inside of jello look like?" Remind me not to feed him that EVER AGAIN! http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/586315/ Sun, 7 Sep 2008 03:48:00 -0500 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/586315/ Well, the one that survived is free, anyway. We released the beautiful creature in the backyard yesterday. The other two died before they could be "born again" as true butterflies (poor little larvae). Our newer cat, Mitsy, kept attacking the butterfly cage and claimed one little life. The other? Well...let's just say it escaped and decided to attach itself to the back of a hairspray bottle. The unwitting owner of said spray bottle inadvertently squashed the chrysalis while attempting to spray her hair (name withheld to protect the guilty). The moral of the story? Vanity reaps destruction...and a green squishy mess. http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/584197/ Tue, 2 Sep 2008 20:44:00 -0500 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/584197/ Oh trust me, it was hilarious. But let me start from the beginning. Thursday: A hairy day. The kids were ornery and fussy, and one in particular was doing everything in his power to tease and push my buttons. To be fair, he hadn't been medicated that day. He was overdue for his Psych appointment and needed to be seen before his prescription could be refilled. So he was, shall we say, rather energetic (an understatement, believe me). As I prepared for dinner Grant decided it would be funny to go out the front door, which would lock behind him, then incessantly ring the doorbell or pound on the door until I open it. He knows full well that the side door is open for him, but he seems to think this is much more fun. Usually I ignore it so I don't reinforce the behavior, but being worn down from the day, I let him back in to cut short the act. Besides, I didn't want to cause a neighborhood scene from the constant banging and ringing. I turned back to the complicated recipe I was trying to follow, and my son decided it was a perfect time to pull the same stunt. I ignored him this time, and he was none too pleased. After five minutes of ringing and banging, he came around the side, entered the kitchen, and proceeded to behave rudely and spoke in a way that was meant to be hurtful. Not trusting my ability to react calmly, I locked him in his room until I could get a level head. It occured to me at this point that I had a selfish child who wanted his every whim to be satisfied. If it wasn't, he would lose his temper and speak rashly. He had no idea  the hurt he was causing other people, not to mention his lack of consideration for other's needs (particularly mine). Hmmm...perhaps walking a mile in his mother's shoes might set him straight. His dad and I informed him he would be Mom-for-the-day tomorrow, then sent him to bed early without dinner. Friday: My son was eagerly waiting to serve breakfast to his hungry family (apparently he thought this little role reversal might be fun). I bounded into the kitchen demanding my waffles, buttered and with syrup, and something to drink. Grant was pleased as punch to serve me. He placed my breakfast before me, as my daughter happily munched away on a bagel. Son #2 stumbled in soon after and plopped down beside me. My daughter, seeing my yummy breakfast, decided the bagel just wouldn't cut it. She shoved it over to Son #2 for him to finish off. So Mom-For-The-Day prepared a couple more waffles. My daughter then asked me for a drink. I told her "sorry, can't do it. Ask your brother." It was at this point that big brother was starting to feel overwhelmed. After all, he hadn't eaten yet and had been trying all this time to make some chow for himself. Finally he pushed some waffles toward her and stuffed a couple more into the toaster. "Tell me when they pop up, okay Mom?"  It was Son #2 who was next to decide he wanted what everyone else was having. Here's how it played out: Son #2: Mom, I want waffles now. I don't want this bagel anymore. Mom: Sorry buddy. can't do it. Ask your brother. He's in charge today. Son #2: (Turns to older brother.) I want waffles! Mom-For-The-Day: Just a second! I can only do one thing at a time! Daughter: (Spills drink everywhere), Oh no! I'm all wet! Mom-for-the-day: Oh great! NOW I have to clean this all up! Son #2: I want a drink too! Just then the waffles pop up. Mom: Waffles are ready! Mom-for-the-day: Aaarrrgh! (goes to corner and bangs head against wall in despair). I finally had to leave the kitchen before I split a seam!  Honestly, I don't think I could have scripted this to go any better than it did, and I couldn't thank my daughter enough for her clumsiness. It was a nice touch. For the rest of the day my son had a rather lengthy checklilst of duties to fulfill. he vacuumed, did several loads of laundry, wiped down sinks and tables, supervised others' chores, sweeped the kitchen, responded to sibling requests, and cleaned up some pulled weeds I had left in the driveway. He did manage to get in a little play time, albeit with the many interruptions that usually plague my own moments of relaxation. At the end of the day, his father and I sat him down for a talk after the other two went to bed. It was clear he had learned his lesson and was rather remorseful. Now, I don't aspire to think that this has been a cure-all. Selfishness is not easily squelched. But today during moments of griping or disobedience I would simply say, "oh, do we need another 'MOM' day?" That put him back in line. My only regret is that I didn't capture it all on film. http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/583179/ Sun, 31 Aug 2008 21:45:00 -0500 http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/kimahrens/583179/