A Wednesday

I am tired. Oh so deeply, essentially tired.

I don't want to whine about how tired I am.

I had a bad night of sleep. 11 yo got braces on his upper teeth and an expander and the pain kicked in in the middle of the night. He marched over at 3 am for a dose of Tylenol.

Not everyone had lunch packed this morning. 13 yo was having a picture day at school, but it was on me to remind him the morning of that he needs to bring a suit on a hanger. 11 yo refused to eat breakfast due to braces and inability to chew his usual morning fare: a bagel. No alternatives would do. He would not think about what to pack for lunch for the homeschool coop classes coming up later in the day. He refused to daven. He refused to go. He refused to do any schoolwork, to listen to any suggestions on how to deal with his teeth, or to offer any of his own. And the whole time I kept coaching myself internally: do not yell, it's his anxiety talking, do not yell, it will make it worse, do not yell...

I packed my lunch. I wiped the kitchen windows. I washed out the recycling bin.

He did get in the car when it was time to leave. He acquiesced to a water bottle, but no food. We listened to iPod in silence during the drive. I felt drained already.

I taught my class. 11 yo is in my class, and he was super jittery the entire time: pacing, touching, blurting things out. I find teaching exciting and draining, even if it's just middle school chemistry to five homeschool kids. My mom called in the middle. We have been taking coop classes on Wednesdays for six years, but she still called when I was teaching.

Then I assisted in another class. 11 yo freaked out about a forgotten password, then he recalled it. I helped paint some rocks. I had lunch. I chatted with other moms, all the while keeping an eye on the clock for the afternoon carpool. 11 yo came over to graze. He had a few crackers. I tried to pretend that it is normal to skip breakfast and lunch, nothing to worry about.

I left at 2 pm. 11 yo seemed agreeable to finding something to eat at home while I would drive carpool. I meekly suggested that he look over his schoolwork and see if he can do anything on his own. I dropped him off and zoomed to preschool to get 2 yo. She was sleeping, and sleepily transferred to her car seat. Then we zoomed onto the highway to get the rest of the kids from their school.

By some sheer miracle (and the existence of people more organized than I) I am part of a carpool where I have to drive only 2-3 times a week instead of 10 times. However, since there are six kids loading into my car, it is never smooth. These ones do not want to sit with those. That one is touching this one. This one is eating. That one is sort of trying to say a bad word while talking about it. These ones are just annoying. That one is loud. And they all have been cooped up in the school building since 8 am and now they are set loose in my car. I used to talk to my kids when we drive places. I used to think they were loud. But this is a whole new level.

But today was not bad. Today they even loaded quickly enough for the carpool lady not to hustle anyone. I had same iPod going and as long as it was playing, they seemed quiet. I checked my messages to see who is dropped off where today. Mind you, it is 4 pm now and I have been driving since 2.

We get home. 13 yo and 7 yo change into their bathing suits for swimming. Years ago, when I just started homeschooling, the boys tried out for a swim team and were not able to swim enough to qualify. Now it is a whole different story. We live a five-minute walk from the JCC. There are no major streets to cross. 13 yo is legally old enough to babysit. But JCC apparently has a rule that he is not old enough to be 7 yo's guardian while she is attending swim practice. They are not just splashing in the pool, they are attending an organized class, but they need to be watched by a legal; guardian. So they cannot walk over there and back on their own, and they cannot be left there unsupervised while they are swimming. I am very upset by this. Have I known this, I probably would not have signed 7 yo up. 13 yo is old enough to get there and back on his own. And I wonder: we keep complaining how kids nowadays are so ill-adapted to independent living, how millennials are such spoiled brats, how they don't know how to be tough. Why do we set up such rules in place that keep kids on a short parental leash for so long? How are large families supposed to manage this? I tried bringing my younger kids to practice, but it is no fun keeping 2 yo for half an hour away from the pool's edge. Besides. she was just in the car for over an hour. All she wants to do is come home, chill and play.

My only solution was to ask 11 yo if he so kindly would not mind watching his two younger siblings at home while I watched his two older siblings at the pool, twice a week. He agreed, but today both younger siblings disagreed. I ended up shoving two older kids out to the door, leaving 11 yo in charge of two screaming kids. If you want to feel mom guilt, do that, especially after spending zero time with the babies the whole day.

After the pool, faster, faster, let's get home, I know the little ones were storming the pantry before I left. I have not been home since 9 am, so there is no dinner because there was no time for the dinner. But never fear, we are going to eat out tonight at a new Israeli restaurant because that's the best I could come up with. As we are getting in the car to drive that ridiculously short distance home, 11 yo called me to hurry up because 2 yo did not stop crying the entire time I was gone.

I bitterly commented how I need more grown-ups in my life, so I am not leaving an 11 yo in braces pain in charge of two screaming kids. 13 yo wryly commented how he used to be that 11 yo. Yes, kid, we have been making do for years. It is sad when kids have to step up and function as adults.

I am greeted at the doorstep by a teary 2 yo clutching her blankie next to her big brother. 4 yo is freaking out that this new restaurant will not have hot dogs and what he will eat then? The rest of the food is "yucky". It does not take a supersleuth to figure out that he did not nap today, that he's tired, that the last thing he wants is to go out to eat instead of snuggling on the couch with mommy. But there is no dinner, and I am not serving noodles yet again.

The new restaurant was a bright spot. Even my husband made it home on time to come with us. The food was plentiful and good, they had schnitzel for 4 yo, 11 yo was able to chew and get mashed potatoes. The rebbitzen of the community invited us out for Succot lunch. Yay for procrastination! One less meal to plan for!

And then my husband got called up, And then we got home at 7 pm. 7 yo had twenty minutes of nightly reading log. 4 yo went back into full meltdown mode, and I was trying to manage the kids from the couch while half-listening to my daughter read. It is clicking, but it is still slow. Both boys were reading fluently and for pleasure at this age. She still does so little functional reading that I had to point out the kids' section on the menu. I am also thinking how this mandatory reading is not helping move things along, but, being a conscientious student, she dutifully reads every night.

After I finished and tucked in the three youngers, I did two more sections from Hilchot Teshuva with 11 yo. That was the only schoolwork that we did today.

It is 9:30. 11 yo is still up. I packed lunches. I am defrosting chicken for erev yom kippur and for kids to eat on Yom Kippur.

I just want to go and kick back with a book. But most of all, I want to arrive at the nighttime not mindlessly tired.

not following the rules

I've sent my baby girl to school. (I have been working on a blog post about sending kids to school, but it does not seem to get materialized). She has been going for a week. This is my six-year-old, my ideal homeschool candidate, the child whom I've been dreaming about homeschooling because she was easy, eager to learn, eager to please. There was just one big hole in my plan: she wanted to be with other girls her age more than anything else. And she had this perfect dream about school. So I've sent her.

Since sending her, I have been driving her and her brother every morning and picking them up every afternoon. It is December, so most other parents have worked out their carpool routine months ago. First I had 10 year old in one carpool, then, when we moved, a friend found another parent who drove for me. But she only had one spot, so with two kids in school, all of a sudden I had to be driving. But I still have two small ones at home, two kids who take naps and do not need to wake up at 6 am to do this drop-off and pick up.

On Friday, I asked 10 year old time and again what time is early dismissal and he confidently assured me that it is at 2:30. I got a phone call while I was driving at 2:15 that the dismissal was at 2 and the teachers need to get home to get ready for shabbos. I felt horrible and very embarrassed. I even offered for my kids to sit on the bench in front of the school, as I was on my way, but I could not make traffic move any faster. Today, Monday morning, I hustled and hustled everyone to get out the door at 7:20 so I would have plenty of time to drop off 10 yo at shul for his minyan with the classmates and then get 6 yo to her school. I ended up dropping off 10 yo at 7:45. It was freezing. I told him to go inside, not stay in the cold for 15 minutes. Then I drove my daughter. I got her to school at 7:54 and hustled her out the car. As I watched her walk to school, alone, I sighed about this little first grader. Then she pulled on the door. Locked. She banged. Locked. Teachers were walking inside, bustling, getting ready. I saw them. She saw them. She pulled and banged. And I remembered an e-mail from months ago asking parents not to drop off kids before 8, as the teachers needed to get ready for their day. I sort of ignored it at the time, as I was not the one driving in the morning. So there we were, my little kid standing in the cold, knocking, and adults whom she was supposed to be trusting, asserting their rights to five minutes of quiet before the kids entered. I realized that other parents sat in their cars in the parking lot, keeping their kids warm. I just did not notice it before, being so excited to get her somewhere on time and even early. (Till fairly recently, she did not know the definition of early, as were always late).

And then the tears came. Homeschooling was not going smoothly for her because I do not have a gaggle of girls her age up my sleeve. She was not reading and I had little time to read to her. We were butting heads. It was easier to send her to school. But now I have a kid who has to get up and get dressed and have breakfast and put up her hair and run to the car in the morning to be left in the cold banging on the doors of her school. She is a fairly early riser, but she likes to chill, lounge in her pajamas, snuggle on the couch, have a good morning story. She likes to have her breakfast late. I traded one set of things that are not working for another.

I am not blaming the school for their policy. I am blaming myself for not remembering what that policy was. With so many kids doing so many different things, it is very hard to remember every single detail. It was easier to keep them at home, minimize those external rules and regulations to abide by, but it was not working. So now we will be "those" parents", the ones who are chronically late, and chronically bending the rules.

Indian consulate and Shemitta

We were passing an Indian consulate this afternoon when 12 yo asked me what is a consulate. I explained that it is an official representation of a country on another country's soil and the consul is the person who can conduct his country's business. I also mentioned my favorite fact (learned from my father) that a consulate is like a small piece of India right here and the laws of United States do not apply inside it. 12 yo wondered why there is a consulate here, why not just in DC, and how many more Indian consulates are there in the US. I told him he can look it up later. I also said that we live in a big enough city that this is probably a regional consulate. I mentioned that there is probably an Israeli consulate here too, or maybe in Miami. (I am not sure). Then he asked me whether the land of the Israeli consulate is the same as the land of Eretz Yisrael. I asked whether he meant halachically and he said, yes. I laughed, come on, it's a legal technicality, it would not affect halacha. He launched into what if Israeli consulate were to grow produce on its roof, would it be subject to the laws of shemitta? I retorted, of course not! He set up a precedent: the land conquered outside the boundaries of Eretz Yisrael still has to observe shemittah as long as the land within Eretz Yisrael is within Jewish possession. By this point, I realized that he might have a case, so I suggested he ask a knowledgeable rabbi.

This is unschooling in action. This interaction happened because we were both in the car, in good mood, he was next to me, he was looking around instead of being lost in an electronic device or a book, and he had prior knowledge to apply to a little tidbit that I supplied. Sometimes I feel like we get so little "work" done. Then I need to be reminded that my most important goal is to produce thinking human beings, who can converse and be open to learning. For that to happen I need these small casual spontaneous interactions.

Manic Wednesday

I knew today was going to be insane. I forgot that I will have to drive the kids to preschool in the morning. That means getting the baby dressed and fed by 8:30, getting myself ready at the same time, helping 6 yo and 3 yo pack their lunches (they decided that they want to pack them) and shoving everyone out the door. The total driving takes an hour in the morning, so I am not back till 9:30. At 10, we leave for the coop. The baby falls asleep on the way back home. Her nap schedule is changing, and she is not so little any more to fall asleep in the car any time I drive. However, she is asleep and I transfer her into the house for a half an hour nap.

I get my lunch in order, and discover that boys did not pack theirs. They scramble for something, and I overlook that there is probably not enough food, and no fresh growing things were harmed in lunch packing. I sit 11 yo down to do chumash. As I was walking out the door this morning, he asked me whether Moshe glimpsed more of Hashem, or Yehezkel. I tell him that Yakov also saw Hashem "face to face" and there is an idea that a maidservant at the Red Sea saw more of Hashem than Yehezkel. (He knows that Hashem does not have a body, so it is not a physical revelation we are talking about.) I tell him that he can look up these places and see if he can order them somehow according to the fullness of revelation. But he did not do it, and I was not there to look them up with him. Instead, he prepared new pesukim, but I want him to do a Rashi on when exactly Moshe was setting up his mysterious personal tent of meeting. He sees the size of that Rashi and rolls not only his eyes, but his whole body. I admit, I am a bit intimidated by the length even with English translation, but I decided that we will diagram it into a timeline, and it will help in ordering the rest of the events. So he pulls himself together and reads. He can translate the whole thing. I diagram every new fact and time frame that we encounter. By the time we are done, it is 10:04. The baby wakes up, 9 yo informs me that we did not get to his chumash and he did prepare it, and 11 yo whines that we never did get to new pesukim, ugh. I grab the baby, grab a change of clothes, grab a few extra diapers, grab my lunch and get out the door.

We get to the coop on time. I nurse the baby. The boys are in their lego robotics class. They are loving it. In fact, when the class is over, they often linger well into the twenty minute break. Finally, they come out. I am pushing baby on the swings, and she is cooing and giggling away. I think how 3 yo hated swings, held on for his dear life. I think how he needed PT to walk and I was told that he had bad trunk control. I worry about this baby not crawling properly on her knees, she scoots on her behind or slides on her belly. But she must have decent trunk control. Or maybe she is fearless? Either way, it would be nice not to have worry about another late walker. While I am pushing her, the boys come to demonstrate the back flip off the swing that their friend taught them. It looks smooth, but it must be terrifying. They practice to do it together.

back flip off the swing

Their second class is on bridge structures. A lot of kids are absent, so the boys get out early. I ask 9 yo whether he would be able to do his prepared chumash with me off my phone (Beta Midrash app). he says that he can do it after lunch. Meanwhile I bump into a mom friend from the other location of the coop. We chat a bit, and then she asks me about 9 yo's behavioral issues. I tell her how I feel very done, defeated. She throws around a few suggestions, tells me to read, we commiserate over hard kids. "Have you prayed about it? Have you had him pray about it?" I stop, whirling. I am supposed to be davening about this kid. I barely get through brachot most mornings, hoping that nobody produces a poopy diaper and cuts my two minutes of organized prayer short. I do ask Hashem every day to help me not yell at my kids, but that has not been very successful. However, while I have taught 9 yo to daven and even told him where to insert his personal requests, I never thought to tell him to daven regarding his behavior.

A light bulb goes off in my head. "Thank you, I really have not thought about that."
"Oh, that's funny. I'm an atheist. But if it would help..."
And then we spend a few minutes chatting how prayer is about gathering your thoughts and reflections and getting clarity in formulating the requests. Did I mention how much I love my coop?

I do catch 9 yo later. "Chumash time?" He sits down next to me and we do his three review pesukim and three new pesukim. He gets worried for a moment that he cannot do them without his binder where he writes new words, but then changes his mind and goes through without a hitch. We are at Dina's rape and not exactly easy material that I want to be covering in the park. He might not even understand what exactly happened to Dina. He notices that after famously being called Leah's daughter, by the time Chamor gets to her, she is Yacov's daughter. Rashi does not comment. 9 yo also thought that Dina was pining for Chamor, so we had to set that straight. But he is done and gone.

At 2 pm, we get in the car to go and pick up 6 yo and 3 yo from preschool. 3 yo needs more diapers. He is not potty-trained yet, and he is at the stage where he wants underwear, but will have nothing to do with a toilet. I much rather deal with diapers than wiping up messes that he made and then tried to clean up on his own. Must remember to send more diapers to school.

bubbles in the museum

I drive the kids to the natural history museum that we rejoined last week. We have picture day at taekwondo, but that does not start till 4, and I do not want to go home for half an hour and then battle the traffic. The museum is just a few minutes away from the dojang, and 3 yo and 6 yo have not been there when we went last week. At 3:15, the parking lot is emptying out. We have the whole place to ourselves, even though there are still two hours till closing. The younger kids do not remember this place at all. I think 3 yo was not even born last time we were members. They ooh and aah over the dinosaur skeletons in the lobby. I warn the kids that we will only be here for an hour, but we will come back another time. Meanwhile, the baby has a dirty diaper and needs to nurse. I find a nursing room and leave 3 yo with the older kids, bur he decides that he wants to be with me, so he runs away, screaming. Then, as I am changing the baby, he runs out, looking for the boys. I sigh and finish the diaper change. 3 yo comes back since he did not find them. I need to nurse and I am in what is technically a nursing room. There is no bathroom, just a rocking chair, a changing table, and a locking door. There are some books and puzzles. I lock the door and sit down to nurse. 3 yo melts down, he does not want to be confined. I talk to him how he wants to get out so badly. I suggest looking at books or the puzzles. He tells me how everything is yucky, but he calms down.

I have mixed feelings about these nursing rooms. It is surely nice that museum provides them. They have nursing mothers in mind, and this one does not have a toilet in it, so it is designated exclusively for nursing. When 6 yo was nursing, I would give such set-up unconditional thumbs up. Yet now I feel that it is almost wrong to tuck nursing mothers away, in another room, far from the exhibits and the rest of the family. I nurse in public with a cover-up and if we really want to encourage breastfeeding, why are we putting moms away? Besides. that room did not have good ventilation, and it stunk of dirty diapers, my baby's included. Then I had to go and find an actual bathroom to wash my hands... somebody thought of this room as a PR gimmick, not as a service.

My kids delight in the museum. I thought it would be a bit boring for the boys, but they are eating it up. I get to stand back and watch all four of the older ones engage in their own ways. These outings are what we do the best. But I have to hustle everyone out since we still need to get to taekwondo and get pictures taken.

waiting for taekwondo picture

I almost chose not to go this year. We only did this once in the past, and I don't want to spend the money on the pictures. But now that I am doing taekwondo too, I want a picture of myself with the boys. Who knows how long I will keep it up? It can all change due to scheduling conflicts, but we can pull it off this year. I tell 6 yo that she will be in charge of her sister while we are getting photographed. What I did not account for was the slow-moving line. We spend time waiting. I take the baby out and let her crawl. She grabs boys' kipas off their heads. 3 yo is running around in circles. I keep on hoping that our turn will come soon. Finally, we get posed and photographed. I told the boys that we are only buying one group shot, not the individual poses. They are disappointed, but not too badly. Then we wait on second line, to select the images and the background. I talked boys out of the flaming background as being too busy. We agreed on something with a tiger in the back. My understated self cringes. Finally, we have to pick the best image. I look at myself: slouching, double chin, tired eyes. I do not look good. I do not look fierce, I do not look like I have this covered, like we are having fun. The boys look nice in almost every shot. I gently steer them towards the least tired-looking image. The baby is screeching and complete strangers are handing her toys that she tossed overboard. Meanwhile 6 yo is protecting her brother from another kid who keeps coming up and doing monster hands in their faces. I hustle everyone out to the car and drive home.

3 yo refuses to be buckled by his brothers and complains about burritos that are for dinner. Waze would not work to direct us home in the fastest way possible. It is 5:30 and the baby is not happy. We pull in and I get into my frenzy mode for everyone to unload the car and carry in more that one little item. I always seem to have my hands literally full with the baby, cups, bags, and keys. I always leave something in the house that belongs in the car and vise versa. We get in and I start dinner: defrosted burritos go on the frying pan,  defrosted corn on the cob goes in the pot, leftover coleslaw to round it off. If I would be any more organized, I would be freaking Marth Stewart. Nobody eats soup except for the baby, 3 yo, and me. 3 yo melts down because his burrito unrolled and the insides spilled out. I cannot help him, since I am seated across the table, feeding the baby. 11 yo asks some deep and meaningful questions about the nature of school and why isn't everyone homeschooled. I try to respond, but it is impossible to keep the conversation going.

My husband is on call overnight, so I am on my own. The baby throws dinner off her high chair tray. I have a Smirnoff Ice and immediately feel my face flushing. It happened with wine before, but I assumed that it was sulfites. I cannot be allergic to alcohol, can I? 6 yo cannot find "Wizard of Oz" that we are reading for a good night story. 3 yo's singing siddur does not work. "It needs new batteries!" I ask for a miniature screwdriver, but it does not fit. The baby does not settle down easily. By the time I finish washing up the dishes and sit down on the couch, it occurs that we did not do new pesukim or the megilah today. 11 yo: "You look tired." I feel tired.

And the crazy part is, this day does not strike me as out of the ordinary. Why am I masterminding this craziness?

songs on the radio

"Mommy, can you turn on Star 94?" Where we live, this is the cool radio station, playing top 40 hits. It's more like same ten songs over and over again, but I have to point it out for my boys to notice. They did not discover it on their own; it is one of my radio presets. I do not listen to it often on my own, I seem to prefer the sound of 80s and 90s. Those will be oldies very soon, but I pretend that I am back in high school or college, and still young and hip.


My boys ask for Star 94. I cannot be a hypocrite, listening to this music myself, but keeping it away from them, so depending on the situation, I will turn it on. We do a lot of driving to taekwondo when it is just me and the boys, no younger siblings requesting "baby song CDs". A song comes on. The boys crack up. Me: "Is it "Stitches"?" Boys: "No it's the other one, "I can't feel my face when I'm with you"." They know that I object to both of those songs. They ask me why, and I tell them how I think love should not require numb faces or stitches post-kissing. I ask them what they think falling in love feels like. They are still young, no crushes that I know of. 11 yo describes a scene from the end of "Inside Out". I smile, it is so innocent and sweet. He hits on the awkwardness and blushing. I tell them which other songs about love I do not object to: "Sugar" by Maroon5, "We Found Love Right Where We Are".

It hit me now, even though I object to it, I am speaking their language. I am in tune to what they are listening to. I can discuss it, and voice my reservations. I can state my opinions about love and point out which songs describe love that is worth aspiring to.

I remember realizing as a child that all songs were either about falling in love, or breaking up. (Patriotic songs are about love, too, love for a country or ideals. Religious songs were not on my radar, although they are about love of G-d and G-dly world). I also remember not having these discussions with my parents. My father listening to the radio playing "American Pie", me, dancing along, my mother entering, asking him to turn it off, it is too loud.

My husband hooks up his phone in the kitchen to a small radio stereo, playing Youtube playlists. By the end of the day I am in auditory overload, from all the kids screaming, from being talked to all day long, especially by my verbose oldest. I ask him to turn it off. "Mommy does not like music". No, Mommy needs her quiet so that thoughts can line up at least once a day.

But it is different there in the car, in the middle of the morning. I should be downloading shiurim onto the iPod, giving these kids some Torah, some learning. I could be checking out more audio books from the library. I ought to be exposing them to classical music. But I am rushing out of the house with the baby who has to be woken up to be dropped off at the babysitter. After she is dropped off, I get a request for Star 94. I can finally breathe, and I give in. They roll their eyes when every station plays the same latest song. I nod, and we exchange those brief remarks about the songs.

We are learning to keep communication channels open, and if music assists us, so be it.

an update on actual homeschooling (sort of)

I have been meaning to write this update for over a month, but every night something or other comes up. Or nothing comes up: I'm just dead tired, spent, and in no shape to blog. So tonight I decided to push myself and write a long-overdue update.

This year 6 yo old (she turned six a month ago) and 2 yo went to preschool while the boys stayed home. Now, evaluating it, that was not such a good decision. I was hoping to buy more time to do schoolwork with older boys, a chance to set the schedule for the baby (who is almost 10 months), and letting 6 yo play with her peers and socialize. I was also hoping that 2 yo would color on some surfaces that are not my walls.

What I got was a very different scenario. The school is twenty minutes away without traffic. I spend an hour in the afternoon picking up the kids. I have to either wake the baby up and take her with me, or stall her nap and let her nap on the way there. Also, this afternoon carpool breaks up the day. I cannot plan any activities with the boys, or attend any events that would interfere with pick-up. Bye-bye, homeschool days at the History Center, or the zoo!

In the mornings we are doing taekwondo three days a week. I attend on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and the boys go an additional time on Mondays. Then, on Mondays. I pick them up and drop off 9 yo at his violin lesson. While he is there, I have exactly 30 minutes with 11 yo and the baby to run errands. I often pick up groceries in Kroger or Target, but I have to be super-focused. I cannot dawdle, I cannot look around, and the list has to be bare necessities. When the weather was warmer, or when the younger two had off from school, I took them to the park, but it took too long to unload and load. A few times I brought 11 yo yo Barnes and Noble. If 9 yo was not so committed to the violin, I would have ended this madness a long time ago.

After the violin lesson, we go home, have lunch, I feed the baby and, before I know it, it is time for the afternoon pick-up.

On the days that I do taekwondo, I nap the baby at 8:30 am. She gets up ridiculously early, so she is actually sleepy at that time. Then I try to get chumash done with at least one of the boys by 9:15, when I have to change, grab the baby, nurse her, and drive to the babysitter on the way to taekwondo. I am enjoying the classes and the workout. (I am actually testing for my next stripe tomorrow!) But I am not enjoying the hassle that it is all producing. Also, going twice a week is not enough of a workout, or reinforcement for me. This cobwebby brain needs many repetitions until the information sinks in. I really should be going another time, one night a week, but it is so hard to find a night that my husband is home and I am not dead tired.

On Wednesdays, we are taking classes with the same coop that we have been a part of for the past five years. That is my bright spot, and it is such a relief! The boys love their classes, and now we stay and hang out for park day immediately afterward. I used to rush kids home, with somebody always needing a nap, and hoping to squeeze in some schoolwork. This year, since the classes are over by 12:30, and I have to leave at 2pm, I might as well let my kids hang out while I get a chance to have a conversation with other moms.

This is the first year that I am starting to be concerned about boys' socialization, It is looking more like "kids locked in the dungeon not interacting" scenario. It is not on purpose, but we seem unable to squeeze in any activities into the schedule. I wish there would be afternoon play dates that my kids could spontaneously arrange and attend on their own, but there are no kids on our block. There are two houses for sale, though. I am fantasizing about a family with kids moving in. I do not care whether they are frum or not. I do not care whether they homeschool or not. I just need them to have kids who would want to interact with mine.

On the school end of things, it is not so peachy either. 2 yo seems to be fine while in school, listening, participating, being sweet. His teachers are gushing about him. But his nap got completely messed up and he went from napping for at least two hours to just one, and then being woken up for me to pick him up. He is often cranky and moody when I get him, and he does not feel better when we get home, Moreover, his whole personality changed: he used to be sunshiney and very secure, but now he's demanding and clingy. He wants me, he wants to sit on me, he wants my attention. He wants to make up for all those hours that we are apart. I see from the photos that his school supplies in abundance that he is comfortable in the classroom. Yet, he still wants mommy, and home. Looking back, now I can say that sending him to school so young was a mistake. Kids at this age need the security of their parents, of their family, more than any educational activity that they would get even in an excellent preschool. From another side, he does not get all that experiential learning that I did with the other older kids: the zoo, the library, the museums, the grocery store. He really just goes to school and then home. I am quite sad about this, and I am definitely planning on keeping him home next year.

As far as my daughter is concerned, I also see changes. She just turned six. And she is still not reading. Now, I am not worried about a  newly-minted six-year-old not reading, I am worried about this particular child not reading. As long-time readers of my blog might recall, this child knew her letters very early on, and was very motivated to learn and try things. She was on the cusp of reading a year ago. Now she will come home with all these worksheets that she did in school. but she does not want to go over them. She is supposedly finishing BOB books in school, but I see her make mistakes in any reading that I ask her to do. She also decided that she is bad at reading, and she does not want to do it. I do not see her persevere. Most days, she comes home and asks almost immediately for her computer time. I don't always give it to her right away, but often it is late in the afternoon. I am tired. I still have to make dinner. 2 yo wants my attention. 6 yo has not watched anything the whole day, so why not? Yet this is the girl who wanted to do projects all the time. What is happening to my child? Is she burning out at the ripe old age of 6?

I would love to bring her home next year, too. But I know what craziness it is to juggle all the naps and schedules, to deal with all the workload, and feed everyone. It can only happen if I get some sort of help...

I'll get to the boys' achievements next time, I guess.

When errands turn into pleasant outings

You have one child, and you worry and you fret. You fret about getting out of the house, nursing in public, crying baby, having enough diapers, not getting enough sleep, baby not sleeping.

Then you have two kids, and now you fret about coordinating naps, or one child running off, or being split into two directions. You fret about going out in public and not being able to control them, or having enough snacks, or using the restroom.

Then, somewhere, around three kids, magic happens. You still fret and feel overwhelmed, but you fret much less. You probably have a handle on nursing in public, you know which establishments have the cleanest bathrooms and are kid-friendly, and you have emergency diaper stash in the car. You gave up on coordinating nap schedules and accepted sleep deprivation as a trade-off to spend time with these little people.

It is the second day of the winter break for 5 yo and 2 yo, and, I have to confess, I'm loving it. I love no afternoon carpool. I love having them all home. I love having all the kids hang out together, separate into playmates as they see fit. I love that 2 year old is entertaining the baby. I love that 9 yo and 5 yo are playing their games. I love that we are all going to places together.

Today could have been insane. The boys had their taekwondo in the morning, I was testing right after their class, and then we were taking the car for an overdue oil change. I could not attend the class, since I had all the younger kids with me, but it turned out to be fine. Both 5 yo and 2 yo packed their backpacks with toys and books of their selection. 5 yo stayed in the dojang and watched the boys. 2 yo stayed right outside the door, watching the practice, getting drinks from the water fountain and being quiet. The baby was the hardest: she did not nap in the car on the way over, and I needed her to be happy for my test, as I was relying on 11 year old to watch her. She was fussy, but I was able to nurse her to sleep and leave her in the car seat.

I fretted about not stretching before being tested. I knew the material, but my body was not warmed up. However, the test went well (and I have to thank the teacher, who is a parent himself, for keeping it short and sweet). 11 yo watched the baby and played Hangman with 5 yo. 9 yo watched 2 yo. He was impressed with my board breaking, on the first try.

Then we all changed into regular clothes and drove over to drop off the car for the oil change. Since it was a fast day, even though none of us were fasting, I did not want to take kids to Starbucks for hot cocoa, and I did not want to get them treats. However, we did have an hour to kill. When I unloaded the kids, they lined up around one of the car bays: I forgot how exciting it is to see the car go up and see the underbelly. Once they realized that our car is not getting hoisted up any time soon, they asked me what we are doing for an hour. I suggested going to a nearby square, but they spotted the library first. "Ooh, can we go?" One of the boys was sad that he did not have his library card with him. This is not the branch that we usually go to, so it was even more exciting. I said that we can stay inside as long as the baby doesn't fuss, and then we discussed why the library is expected to be a quiet place. When  we got inside, the boys disappeared into the stacks. 5 yo found some puzzles, 2 yo found a book and asked me to read. The baby squirmed, so I sent her crawling. We stayed inside, with me reading to the younger ones for about 20 minutes, when the baby's level of noise started getting louder and louder. It was time to leave.

When we came out, I told the kids that we can break into the only snack I brought: a half-eaten bottle of peanuts topped off with almonds, craisins and dried apricots. We walked over to the square, where there were benches and space to run around. 11 yo protectively held 2 yo's hand when we crossed the streets. 9 yo pushed the stroller. The kids looked around at the shops and the restaurants and commented on their names and food options. In the square, 11 yo sat on the bench, while the younger ones ran around, playing tag, and climbing on the sculpture. I took the baby out and held her in my lap. It was warm, it was nice, the kids were taking turns grabbing snack from the bottle and strictly enforcing fairness. 

I thought to myself: how lucky I am to reach a point where an oil change is a welcome break from our routine. It was such a good outing. I did not fret about the snacks, I already changed 2 yo at taekwondo, so I did not fret about the diaper. and we would get home, when we would get home, and they will either nap, or not. The older kids will either eat lunch, or not. And none of it matters.

What matters is that we are all here, right now, together. What matters is that I am not overwhelmed by my five kids. What matters is that I am enjoying them, in a pure way where parents get nachat not because of what kids do, but just from having them.

One day out of many

7:15 am and I hear the baby cooing. Or is it older kids talking? Oh, it's both. The baby has been up again during the night, a bunch of times, too many to count.

Is it dark? No, it's getting light. Where is my husband? His bag is gone, he must have gotten called up and I slept through.

The younger kids are cuddling in 5 yo's bed. Time to get them dressed. It is menorah painting day, so they need ratty clothes. 5 yo starts arguing that what I picked out is too nice. I tell her that it will be OK to get paint on it.

The baby is cooing. Will I have to drive the younger ones to school? When will I nurse her? I set up her babysitter so I can go to taekwondo with the boys, but if I have to drive, I might not make it back on time. I will definitely not have enough time to nurse her before dropping her off.

Where are the boys? Are they playing the new Pokemon game downstairs? Is my husband possibly in shul, and coming back to drive the kids?

I text him, he's on his way back from an early delivery, but he won't be back till 8:30. OK, get his breakfast in order, get myself dressed, make oatmeal for 5 yo, pour cereal for 2 yo. The boys are just getting up, pulling the shtick of late rising.

Start making coffee; I'll try to stall on nursing till closer to 8. She nursed the whole night, she should be fine. Here, sit in the highchair, eat a piece of mushy banana and a muffin.

Where is the insulated coffee mug? It is in the dishwasher which is dirty. Wash the mug, so my husband can take his coffee to go.

The baby throws the leftovers of banana on the floor.

My husband texts me that there is a lot of traffic and he will be getting in at 8:50. The kids need to be at school by 9. It takes half an hour to get to school in the morning.

Say brachot, and think: he's sitting in traffic, just to get home, grab the kids and breakfast and turn around and go back. He will be late to the office. I should drive.

But if I drive, I don't have time to eat breakfast. I will have to nurse the baby now. I might not make it in time to drop her off and still get to taekwondo. We might be late.

I decide to take them. I call my husband and tell him that. Spread butter on his bagel (I wanted some protein, but there is no time to make eggs, or to figure out what else to have). Wash, eat the bagel while nursing the baby.

Shoot, I only made fish sticks for lunches, and I didn't pack anything else. mad rush to get the lunch boxes, and shove some snacks in. "Don't step on the banana on the floor!" Shoes for all, grab my uniform, tell boys to run the dishwasher while I'm gone, daven and get started on the schoolwork, Tell them to be all ready by 9:30, so I can just pick them up.

Buckle everyone up. It's a good thing that it is warm, so I do not need to preheat the car. No jackets to wrestle with, either.

We drive. In the morning, Waze takes me on a different route than in the afternoon. More traffic lights, more stop-and-go. We listen to the iPod. I get lost in my thoughts.

Chanukah is coming. I need to plan something fun. I need to plan a family dinner and invite my in-laws. We have not been invited out for a meal in months. We have five kids; it is too much for most people. I need to invite others for Shabbos meals. What about that new homeschooling family? I need to be social.

I get to school. The kids happily clamber out, 2 yo waving to his teacher. "He's always so happy!" They love the school. It is a constant, a happy place.

I drive back. I just get home by 9:30. The boys jump in and we drop the baby off. She wakes up as I pull up at the sitter's. I run and hope that she will last till I'm done with taekwondo.

Change quickly into the uniform. I have to review the forms with the boys, I haven't done them for the past two weeks and before that there wasn't enough practice for my muscles to remember what to do. The boys are gracious teachers, going over the steps with me, and practicing whatever I ask.

The workout feels brutal, especially after my break. My legs shake, but I do it. I feel strong and powerful. I forget about Chanukah planning, about schoolwork that still awaits. I focus on repetitions of the side kick.

When I change back at the end of class, I find a message from the babysitter, diplomatically wondering when the baby nursed last. The time stamp is from 20 minutes ago. A wave of guilt washes over me: here I am, self-improving, and she was probably yelling her head off. I text that I'm on my way.

When I pick her up, she's outside with the babysitter. She's not crying, so I finally exhale. She fusses the second I start placing her in the car seat and I briefly wonder about nursing her now. But I drive home, get the boys to open the house and bring in my bags while I sit down to nurse. She falls asleep while nursing and transfers to the crib.

I exhale again.

I get to eat lunch. The boys eat lunch of their own making. I rush them on, so we can get some schoolwork done before afternoon carpool, before the baby wakes up and I will need to finish nursing her.

We do chumash. They do everything else on their own. 11 yo really needs to add more to his day. His mishna teacher is no longer available to teach. For Judaics, I am only able to do chumash. 9 yo was upset about chumash yesterday, but today it goes smoothly. I do not prepare for him, I still remember VaYetze from last year. I remember the Rashis, too. I am getting to mastery. For 11 yo, I have to prepare. The language is different, and there is no narrative. Rashi cites gemarot and opinions which I have not heard before.

The baby wakes up. The boys trip over each other to take her out of the crib. 11 yo mentioned earlier how he misses her, For once, we finished Chumash without interruption. I nurse her. I make a chai latte for my afternoon drive. Now that the dishwasher has been run, I have a clean insulated mug. A piece of chocolate completes the afternoon pick-me-up.

I drive to get the kids from school. They are talking about Alfred Hitchcock's work on NPR. I have never seen Psycho, but when will I get the time? I get the kids and drive to pick up our betta fish from a friend. The kids are quiet in the back seat because the NPR is switched to iPod. The baby is asleep.

I get home and 2 yo does not want to get of his car seat unless I unbuckle him. His fussing wakes up baby. I need to nurse her, again. 9 yo is up to math, and he is having new issues. I still have not made dinner.

I text my husband and he's not coming home till later, much later. I nurse the baby and wonder whether I should be organizing something for Chanukah for the local homeschoolers. 9 yo moved to to have issues with his spelling words which need to be organized in an alphabetical order. I asked 11 yo to peel the potatoes, but he walked away.

I prepare dinner. First I decide that there will be no potatoes. Then I relent from punishing us all and decide not to give any to 11 yo. The baby is crawling into the kitchen, Is that chipped paint that she's licking off the floor? Why does she decide to start crawling when my housekeeping skills are at an all-time low?

I get her to sleep and hustle everyone to set up for dinner. 11 yo does want those potatoes, but I'm firm. And it's a shower night. And I'm still alone.

There was an ice-skating event for the women tonight, a chance to socialize and hang out. I forgot until the pictures started pouring in. I wanted to go. It is not happening. Is that why we have no Shabbos invites, since I don't see anyone?

9 yo washes 2 yo. "I even changed his dirty diaper and wiped him!" Thank you, child. I wash 5 yo. Then I beg the kids to watch the baby so I can take an early shower. I don't know how late my husband will come back. I don't know how long the baby will be up.

I read a story to 5 yo, tuck her in. I nurse the baby to sleep. I look up summer sleep away camp for boys. Darn, we already missed the deadline for one of the grants. I'm in a bit of sticker shock from the price. I share it with the boys and tell them that I will discuss the whole thing with daddy. 9 yo immediately decides that this means that he's not going and starts ruminating about it. I send them to sleep.

At 9 pm, my husband walks in. At 9:05, the baby gets up.

__________________

What am I doing wrong?
What am I supposed to be doing differently?
How did I trade the stress of five kids in the house for the stress of carpool?
When am I supposed to get any time to do something for my enjoyment?

"Rising Strong"

For a while, my newsfeed was divided between the people who talk to their socks and those who want to live wholeheartedly. (Perhaps if I have a wholehearted talk with my socks, they will find their matches and stay that way?) I was intrigued by "Daring Greatly" and put it on hold at the library. To my amazement, it came in pretty quickly, and just around the time that my baby was born. I thought all the nursing time would translate into reading time, but the calculation is different when there are four other kids and mommy is suddenly spending plenty of time on the couch. Also, "Daring Greatly" touched on a lot of deep conflicts and feelings, and did not make for a good discontinuous read. ("Where'd You Go, Bernadette?" was a perfect nursing read: so many places to stop and still be able to pick up the story). Being a popular book, I had to return "Daring Greatly" to the library before I even seriously got into it, but I made a mental bookmark to revisit it under different circumstances.

Lo and behold, "Rising Strong" came out, causing a new stir of conversation. Brene Brown seemed to be interviewed everywhere, and the idea of grit, persistence, and coping with failure seems so essential to healthy functioning. It is hard to learn if you can't cope with disappointment. It is hard to recoup, if you can't learn from failure. So once again, when I was in the library, I found myself putting a hold on a popular book.

It also arrived pretty quickly, and I knew that I have to retrieve it before it goes back in the system. Only this time I was shocked to find that I apparently put an audiobook on hold. I quickly flipped through: nine disks, hours and hours of listening The confusion of the moment almost lead me to leave the CDs in the library.

I hate listening to lectures. I am not an auditory learner, and I do not process info that way. I hate trying to pick out one voice to focus on from all the background noise. Today it would be called auditory processing disorder, but I just call it "avoidance of sound". I have a hard time carrying a conversation in a crowd. I listen to music only if I can put it as a background noise, not as something that I have to actively focus on.

Would I dare listen to a book on tape, all nine CDs? When would I find the time? Would I be able to gain anything? Is it a waste? I was making a call whether I would rise to an occasion, or whether I would admit defeat, say that this is not for me, that I am beat.

I decided to take it out, pop it into car's stereo, and hope to cobble enough time to listen to this book. I do drive afternoon carpool every day, and that is good twenty minutes alone. I can also rope the boys into listening with me, they need to learn how to get up after a failure just as much as I do.

I am on the second CD. The author is driving me nuts. She keeps listing points, and then going off on tangents. I cannot keep mental track of her lists, some of which contain seven or eight points. She keeps talking about herself, and her research, and how everything is so enlightening and important. I am lost in the forest of her words. Yes, she repeatedly brings up points which resonate with deep emotions, yet her examples are so mild and non-specific, that I keep on focusing on how inconsequential they are. I keep alternating between feeling that she is a genius, or a self-indulgent repetitive whiner.

Maybe I would process the book better if I could read it instead of constantly being subjected to the personal auditory hell. Maybe I am not emotionally ready to process these important ideas. Maybe the emperor has no clothes, and there is no step-by-step guide to getting up after a setback. We just have to decide to keep on going.

Day 5

We spent the night in the northern reaches of Indiana. From experience, I can tell you that it is better to get a suite with a separate bedroom than one full room. Everyone is more likely to get sleep that way. We slept in till a whooping 7 am (central time). When the kids woke up, and they all woke up together, we got the olders dressed and I took them to the pool. In this hotel, the jacuzzi was not working, and the pool was not as balmy warm as the first one. By the time everyone swam and played, by the time i brought them back to the room to shower and get dressed, we missed most of breakfast. At least the yogurt was kosher in this one.

As we started to Indianapolis, first we got stuck behind a police escorting a truck carrying an oversized beam. This truck was taking up all two lanes of the highway, so we spent over an hour not going faster than 40 mph. Then the gas got low, but the exits were few and far in between. I was truly believing that we were about to spend half a day on a shoulder waiting for AAA to get us some gas.

We were planning to swing into Indianapolis to meet up with another homeschooling family, and then on to Cincinnati for more indian food, but, due to starting out late and the traffic delays, we ended up skipping both. The place in Cincinnati is closed between lunch and dinner, and we would not get there early enough ( or late enough). However, thanks to the great american consummerism, there is always a Walmart around the corner. We pulled off into one, got some tortillas, lettuce, tuna and mayo and made tuna wraps for lunch. I also got some fruits and veggies for our dinner, and ice cream for dessert.

In the car we are listening to "The Mysterious Edge of the Heroic World". I am not so sure if I would have picked it out, if I knew the contents more intimately than the description on the back of the CD case, as it is clearly geared towards older kids. However, the themes it touches upon: fitting in, conforming, wealth, friendship, relationships, WWII, art, are all covered in a fascinating manner. I find the need to alternate the CDs with either musical CDs or silence for the sake of my daughter, for whom probably large portions of these books fly over her head. We spend quite some time talking about giving others a turn, and being respectful of their choices and preferences. During one of the CDs that she picked, the boys were so bored, that out of desperation they started reading youth Pirkei Avot.

Then we rolled off to Kentucky Mammoth Cave national park. We got to the hotel while it was still light, a first on this trip. This is a one-room suite, but very well-kept. We had our traditional hotel dinner: Tradition soups and deli sandwiches. The baby opened and closed every drawer and every crevice. Then my husband took kids swimming, for the second time in a day, and I tucked the baby in.

Day 1 of our trip

taking a picture of a butterfly

It's one of those road trips which has the potential to be really good, or really bad, depending on the attitude. We are driving to Chicago for my husband's medical boards. Normal people fly in the day before the test, get a good night of sleep, take the test and fly back. Since the boards are on Friday morning, if my husband were to do this, he would not be able to get back home before Shabbos. He has done this in the past, but this time we are making a road trip from the whole experience, driving up and then back down.

the boys heaved the biggest stick they could find

Normal people spend the day before a major trip packing and then drive out the first thing in the morning. We both had something going on Wednesday morning: my husband had to work, and I had to teach my coop class on Battles and Weapons. Oh, and by that point we still did not have a place to stay for Shabbos. The few obvious suggestions fell through, my husband called the shuls, but nothing was coming through, and our preferred alternative (state park cabin) was not to be found within immediate Chicago vicinity. As I was teaching my class, another homeschooling friend was trying frantically to get in touch with me to let me know that she found us a place.  We were able to set out on this trip without worrying about what are we going to do for Shabbos.

You can teach your kids about Earth's rotation and time zones and the vastness of the US, or you can drive through the time zones. You can teach about terrain and weathering, or you can observe curvy highways cut through the mountains and waterfalls pouring off them, right beside interstates. We clearly saw when we drove into Appalachian mountains and then when we left for the foothills. We stopped at Tennessee welcome center on an island in the middle of the dammed Tennessee river. We swung into Nashville for some authentic Indian food. We used to get Indian food in Houston, and we have missed it. In Nashville, I found Woodlands, which is vegetarian and kosher. And authentic: all the spices are right and strong, all the dishes hot and steamy. My boys ordered dosas and chappati, and my husband and I got combo dinners, with mango lassi on the side. However, the baby has been up for a long time, and he was not interested in sitting in a high chair. He actually climbed out twice despite being strapped in, and kept trying to bang the spoon on the table. He would not be distracted with food. We took turns with him outside. Meanwhile, the temperature dropped, so I put on his fleecy snowsuit. My kids were wearing shorts and t-shirts, which was perfect wear for this morning. Now they were huddling in their winter jackets.

You can tell your kids all you want about proper table manners, or you can take them to a fairly casual restaurant and they can look around and decide for themselves that this is "fine cuisine" and requires better behavior. 10 yo straightened up, tucked in his napkin, kept his voice down. The younger two calmly walked around the table for the tastes of rice patties. If only those table manners would rub off on the baby...

The best piece of baby equipment that we ever got was pack-n-play. We got the most basic Graco one, and it served us well through four kids. That was where the baby slept last night. Between changing the time zones and not having his crib slats that he likes to grab, he was up at 5 am. Worse, he woke up his siblings, who tried their best to be quiet. He crawled and checked out every single drawer and crevice. The best source of entertainment was the roll of toilet paper. I usually do not let kids waste it, but this was getting a bit desperate. He ripped off a few sheets, wiped the floor with them, crumpled them, ripped them to shreds and then placed them into the garbage can. All this entertainment lasted for about half an hour.

The pool was opening up at 6 am, so I took the three older kids down there by 6, while the baby kept my husband company when he davened. Nobody was in the pool at that time, which was very nice for us. It was indoors and heated, one of the nicest hotel pools I have ever seen. The boys splashed and swam around and we did not have to worry about being quiet. 4 yo was a bit unsure about going into the big pool, but she warmed up towards the end. It was just so nice to watch and spend some time just with the older kids and not be catching anyone diving into the pool head first. 10 yo can really tread water, if not outright swim. 8 yo is cautious enough not to go deep enough. We just laughed and had fun. Then I switched with my husband, who had by now a pretty tired and hungry 1 yo.

The baby ended up falling asleep on me before we were ready to leave, so I sat holding him in the lobby while the kids had breakfast. I liked how I did not have to be anywhere else at that moment, and I was unavailable to pack or check my e-mail or hunt down elusive reception (the hotel was supposed to have wi-fi, but it was spotty). After the kids left to pack up, I had an elderly lady approach me and tell me how the kids are well-mannered. She said that she liked how they listened. I nodded politely, thinking how lucky I am that she did not witness them while they were squabbling or ignoring their parents. Then they rode into the lobby, my husband and 10 yo pushing the cart with all our luggage, 4 yo sitting on top of the suitcases, and 8 yo hanging on in the back, wheeling a duffel behind him, grinning. We do not roll quietly.

  

mastery

On Tuesday, I had a whole grand plan for the day laid out. Both boys chose to start with math. 9 yo was in the throes of long division. He did a page, and then another, and then he asked me to give him any long division problem that I wanted, and then he made up his own problem and kept adding digits to the dividend until he could finish dividing without remainder.

He mastered long division and he could not wait to get more problems to prove his mastery.

Meanwhile 7 yo had a pre-multiplication unit. It mostly involved skip-counting, and he did page after page of math, probably 10 pages in all, till he was done with the unit. He understood the concept, and each page was another opportunity to apply it.

I thought math would be quick that day; instead it took over an hour. Both boys engaged in learning out of their own free will, and did not want to stop.

That same day a friend posted this post about unschooling math. I agree with some: kids will take lead in their learning, you will learn the math that you need to function, curiosity about math will go a long way. What I have a problem with is the blank assumption that math is hard, abstract and impenetrable subject, to which only people with a special aptitude take a liking. And the first thing that bugged me is the assertion that long division is useless.

People roll eyes at long division (and at fractions). They think nobody uses it. They also never memorized times table, so long division becomes tedious. Whenever I had any problem come up in kids' presence that required long division, I always grabbed a paper and did it out, the long way. They saw it, and even if they did not understand what I was doing, they saw that it is useful, and accessible. Oh, and I spent quite a few hours working with 9 yo on times table. We drilled it from Math Mammoth. I got flashcards and tested him. I hung up two multiplication tables. I asked questions which required multiplication. He does not know it super well (he HATES memorization), but he came around once he saw how useful it was to just know the product for 2- and 3-digit multiplication rather than work it out every time. Now that we hit long division, he saw that it is simply applying that multiplication and, voila, it works! Moreover, he can check himself by multiplying.

At dinner that night, out of the blue, 9 yo asked: "Is fifty divided by 6 equal to 8, remainder 2?"
"Yes."
"So to go on a five hundred mile trip, we need 8 hours and 20 minutes."

Before you think this is trivial, watch this:

"Chromosomes" bumper sticker

I am driving a lot, so I see a lot of bumper stickers. This one caught my eye today:

http://www.cafepress.com/mf/20623859/chromosomes_bumper-sticker?utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=148433056&utm_source=google&utm_campaign=sem-cpc-product-ads&utm_content=search-pla&productId=148433056

Say what?! Yes, I got it, your kid has Down's syndrome. Yes, you want to raise awareness. But since when do extra chromosomes come with bragging rights?

Maybe I am way off mark here. Maybe this is supposed to send our overachieving and under-educated parents into a panic: what are those chromosomes, and how can I get extra for my child? Obviously, if your child has more, then I should push to get some, too. What my gut feels here is an exploitation, a hijacking of a difficult situation to serve parental need for attention grabbing. 

My very quick online browse showed that there are other bumper stickers out there, with a gentler message of love and acceptance and pride. 

Extra chromosome? Just more to love!

Friends don't count chromosomes.

Love doesn't count chromosomes.

I love someone who has Down syndrome.

But this? This is showing off.  As 9 yo astutely observed, isn't this embarrassing to the kid? I wonder whether the parent thought to ask the child before slapping one of these on the car how he feels about being an advertisement.

Full disclaimer: I have nothing against Down's syndrome. I will not even pretend to know what it's like to raise a child with T21. I do not believe that atypical people should be hidden away or swept under the rug. I am just wondering: what is this sticker trying to accomplish?

reading and unschooling

While I am not a fan of using a test as a tool to assess anyone's abilities, now that 7 yo has been "tested", I would like to share one little insight.

He scored really high in reading.

His word reading is on 5th grade level. His verbal comprehension (finding similar words and defining provided words) are at 95th and 98th percentile. Before anyone thinks that I am boasting, I am providing these numbers to make one very important point: this kid NEVER did a comprehension exercise in his life, neither he did a vocabulary exercise. He was not drilled, and he did not practice.

He was not an early reader. He did not admit to recognizing the first letter of his name till he was almost five. He did not learn letters early, or show interest in reading. The only reading practice that I formally did with him was BOB books, and some beginning readers from the library.

What can his high scores be attributed to?

I do not think "oh, he's a genius". I think it is a combination of our home environment with a certain ethic. I used to read bedtime stories to kids every night. When we moved, one of the first places I searched out was the local library, and then we used it, heavily. I picked out the books for kids, they picked out their own books, we attended story time. I took out a ton of books for myself. I spend all my free time reading. The message has been loud and clear: read, read, read! When new books are lying around, tantalizingly close, just waiting to be opened and examined, who can resist.

When 7 yo was in preschool. the complaint that we got was that he always is next to the book shelf, asking someone to read to him. I got my kids books as yom tov gifts. In this environment of very dense literacy, reading is not optional, it is as essential as breathing.

This brings me to an ethic of unshooling: I do not enforce or monitor my kids' reading. We do not have a set time to read. We do not use workbooks or textbooks. I do not check their comprehension, unless they are eager to share what they read. 7 yo occasionally will come and ask me what a particular word means, and I will supply the answer. My kids read everything: chapter books, picture books, comics, atlases, magazines. cereal boxes... Oh, I know I should be choosier, then the first chapter book that 7 yo read would not have been "Captain Underpants". And yet, despite this not all-wholesome literary diet, he is a fluent reader, with great comprehension and vocabulary. He enjoys reading, and he does not view it as a chore or schoolwork.

One final detail: we also listen to books on tape, or, more accurately, on CDs. I get them out of the library, so we have a variety, and they do not cost us a thing. Some of the vocabulary and comprehension could be coming in that way, just listening. I save CDs for car rides, when we are all stuck in a car anyway. I love to load up on them before a big road trip, but even driving around town provides plenty of opportunities to listen.

thoughts on "crying it out"

"Crying it out" had gotten a bad rep. One friend recently posted on facebook: why would anyone let their baby cry it out? The response was: because you are desperate. And because it works, and the kids (and parents) finally sleep,

Oh, we are supposed to be all cuddly and lovey-dovey. All the time. Even when the kids would have deserved that smack on the behind (from the olden days). Even when we spent the whole day catering to everyone's needs and nobody bothered to ask, what do you need, Mom? Even when there has not been a good night of sleep in months and months, and no break,  we are supposed to be calm and patient saints. Yet, once you talk to these "saints" it becomes clear pretty quickly that they have a whole team behind them. Usually there is a husband with a flexible job, or a 9-to-5 job, home for dinner. Usually that said husband lets the mom sleep in in the morning, or gets her breakfast, or takes the kids out of the house for a couple hours. Usually there is some other adult doing some kind of other duty: regular babysitter, house cleaner, au pair, teenager. Then the mom gets to be all saintly, and radiate peace and calm in all those trying situations. Those tend to be the types who are oh-so-opposed to "crying it out".

My husband has not been home since yesterday's morning. First thing, 9 yo threw a fir about davening and life in general. We were late for a concert in Spivey Hall which 9 yo called babyish despite enjoying it. We were late to taekwondo because I tried bribing everyone with a run to Krispy Kreme, hoping to get a kvetchy baby extra twenty minutes of a nap in the moving car. Next thing I know, we are stuck in traffic, baby is yelling anyway, one kid is freaking out because I said we are only getting original glazed form a drive-thru, next kid is freaking out that we are late to taekwndo and we should just go home....

Then it is me, alone, sitting in taekwondo lounge with 3 yo and the baby. Then I have to serve dinner which at least one kid finds a fault with, then tuck everyone into bed, then make Shabbos. I managed to burn rice so thoroughly that the pot had to go in the garbage, not to mention that I had to cook rice again. Then I have to do at least basic straightening up. No other adult in sight, not till Friday afternoon.

Just as I am turning in, the baby is up. Paci is rejected, so I nurse and go to sleep. Then, an hour later, 3 yo is uncharacteristically up, crying. I go and say something to her or other, sorry, I'm a bit fuzzy on that, but she gets quiet. Then, just as I manage to fall asleep again, the baby is up again. No paci, I just nursed him, and he is screaming, and waking up 9 yo.

Oh, just shush, just let me sleep. Just somebody do something, anything, to get him quiet, and get me some sleep. Remember, my husband is not home, so there is no sleeping in in the morning, no way that I can make up this exhausting stretch. He is yelling, I am trying to alternate between a paci and nursing and a tight swaddle. That hard edge of despair is there. You want an emergency? This is it. Now I am remembering that they have those new parent hotlines, call any time of day or night. But at that moment of total despair, I was not thinking of that. I was thinking, just shush, shush already.

You know what? He was crying, I was crying. We were both crying it out. Am I not a person, too? Do I not deserve a bit of compassion? We would have all been better off if I would have just left him in his crib, crying, then race frantically from one corner of the room to another, clutching him. And it would have been better for all if I would have let him cry it out a month ago, and be sleeping through the night now.

I did "cry it out" with my oldest. It took one night, 40 minutes of crying (his and mine, in separate rooms), but that kid slept through the night ever since. He is the best sleeper out of all of them. I do not regret it, not one bit. If he's going to be in therapy, it will not be for this.

Do not throw suggestions at me, unless you are willing to be on my speed-dial and be summoned in the middle of the night to come and work your magic. Do not throw soothing words. They do not help when you get that desperate. When it gets to this point, you just need your sleep and sanity, and you need that kid to be quiet.

Hopefully, you will have your support team, and you can read this, shake your head at my "unenlightened" ways and say that nobody should get so cruel. Then you will send the kids out to your husband, go take your solitary morning walk, and complain how if only people were all a bit calmer, the world would be a better place.

choices

I could have peeled those eight potatoes in five minutes. But 7 yo and 3 yo were in charge of getting me the potatoes, and then they wanted to make a train of the potatoes to wash, like a car wash, and then 7 yo wanted to peel them on his own. He did, and 3 yo peeled one, too. It took them half an hour, but their look of accomplishment was worth it.


I could have assigned all different activities to 9 yo to fill up the afternoon, but I didn't. Instead, he opened up a map, commandeered 7 yo bring up Monopoly money, and wrote up an elaborate chart for playing some sort of world property game. Moreover, he had to make up rules which would satisfy his brother, so that he would be inclined to play with him. They did some fine negotiating, figuring out what's fair, and what will work and keep everyone satisfied.

I could have pushed Rosh HaShana worksheets, but instead I downloaded a Rosh HaShana shiur and we listened to it in the car on the way to and from taekwondo. I did it for myself, but I saw that the boys were listening, too. We had a small discussion during it about the pesukim surrounding Hashem remembering Noach, and also about remembering manna in the desert.

My cleaning people are not coming in tomorrow, so I could spend the day scrubbing the house, or I can rope in the kids, and let them do an imperfect job. Even when it feels that there isn't a choice, and we are cornered in, there usually is an alternative solution. The trick is to trust yourself to let go of preconceived notion of how things are supposed to be.

the conference

I went to the Jewish Orthodox Homeschoolers' Conference. I drove up with the baby and another mom who is planning on homeschooling her kids. This was a very weird road trip. I drove all the way up to Baltimore and down, with a stopover in Richmond. We talked all the way up and down, and probably still can do more talking! I have not shared a room with someone whom I was not related to since college. In both locales we stayed in houses with triplets. Moreover, neither me, nor my friend left out kids in care of husbands and just took off, nor are we planning on doing it any time soon.

The conference itself was very interesting. I went last year with the kids, but I was in a very different place now. Last year I was just feeling my way, trying to find a balance, working on curriculum and looking forward to hear from the experts. This year it felt more like a reunion. I met so many people who came the previous year, and made some new connections. I was able to evaluate information based on how it fit my family's needs. I even met a few unschoolers. Last year I compared myself to everyone else. This year I felt no need to do so.

Two things really stood out at the conference: the binder and the feeling of unity. We were given totes which contained a binder full of resources. There were websites providing curriculum, directory of frum homeschoolers, sample lessons, select articles, posts and presentations and much more. I feel like I have been handed a resource book to lead me wherever the homeschooling happens to take me next.

Secondly, the unity was simply incredible. I was sitting in the same room with people from all over, and from all ends of the orthodox spectrum. Every one has their own methodology to homeschooling, yet everyone there took an obligation of educating their children seriously, and into their own hands, so to speak. The openness of conversations, the flow of ideas, the energy and dedication made it easy to talk to whomever happened to sit next to me.

I wished that I brought my kids along, they would have enjoyed interacting with other frum homeschooled kids. However, this year it was impossible, with the baby and all. My mantra lately has been: there is always next year.

MD trip part 1

We drove out on Thursday. About an hour into our drive, I realized that I forgot 2 yo's blankets and stuffed animals at home. I had a sinking feeling, which made me consider for minute turning the car around to get them. Then I decided that I will stop at some Walmart and pick up something cuddly for her. They boys asked for Maccabeats, two times in a row.Eventually we stopped for lunch. This was the first time I was using new car fridge, so it was a treat to have refrigerated cream cheese, cheddar and watermelon. The kids ran around the rest area.

When we got back in the car, I turned on "The Cool Zone" by Judy Blume. It is a story told from 1st and 3rd grader perspective. The kids listened quietly and then asked for it again. There is a piece about bully, that part they asked me to skip on the second listening.

At some point, 6 yo went on a little rant about davening. I explained that davening has three parts: praise, requests and thanks. I asked the kids to think about the parts of davening that they know and tell me which tefila reflects which part.

Eventually, we got to Richmond. As we were driving towards downtown, 2 yo exclaimed: "We're in Virginia!" Note to my friends who are considering car DVD players: your kids will miss all the opportunities to look around and remember landmarks. When 2 yo plays with a steering wheel at the park and I ask her, where is she driving, she says, New York. She obviously remembers our trip from 5 weeks ago, and seeing the same road and the same landmarks reinforces those memories.

The boys rolled into the house and went straight for the playroom, where they pulled out Mousetrap, marble run and Risk. After dinner, there was a chance to feed the bunny some treats, which meant opening the cage and sticking the hands in with little offerings. To my surprise, 2 yo went for it. Then, when the bunny was brought out of the cage, the kids lined up on the couch to hold the bunny. 8 yo went first, but the bunny did not last long in his lap before hopping away. Next was 6 yo, who snuggled with the bunny. There, the bunny stayed a bit longer. 2 yo happily patted it.

Next morning, we drove out for DC. I was planning on showing the boys one Smithsonian. We got there quickly. I chose to park in the garage, since I figured that all day's activities are free. First we walked to the Museum of Natural History. My bag was poked and prodded with a rod and we went in through metal detectors. Of course, we started with dinosaurs. I told boys that they have to hold hands, and they complied. 2 yo kept bouncing in and out of the stroller. There is a fossil lab, where one can see paleontologists examining fossils. The microscope is hooked up to a monitor, so whatever the scientist sees, you see. There was also a discovery room, which was very kid-friendly. They boys looked under a microscope, checked out x-rays, looked at collections of eggs and beetles and toys from around the word, touched a skeleton, read some books, played with puppets. 2 yo chose one box and slowly examined every piece in it. I got her a large shell and we listened to the sea.

I was ready to leave the museum, but there was a thunderstorm going on, so we just sat on the floor with the school groups and ate lunch. Before you picture an idyll of some kind, it was far from it. I was tense. 2 yo needed a nap. 6 yo needed to run and touch and press. There was too much spilled yogurt, not enough napkins and not a garbage can in sight. Besides, with all the people coming and going, I was worried that we will get stepped on.

Finally, lunch was over, but the rain wasn't, so we headed to another floor. This one contained meteorites, minerals, jewels, diamonds. I was not paying so much attention there until we came to Chile mine exhibit. There, the story of the trapped miners played out with full force. I put a lot of emphasis on how amazing it was that all came out alive.

The rain had stopped and we walked out to the sculpture garden. In the middle of it there was a fountain with a duck ramp. 6 yo REALLY wanted to go up the duck ramp. hey also found two ducks swimming in the fountain.

Next I took kids to the center of the mall. There was some construction going on, but I showed how you look to the left and see Capitol and to the right is the Washington Monument. The boys wanted to get closer to the monument, so we walked there. They ran every grassy block, while I paced myself. I also told them how in high school I went all the way to the top, but it cannot be done now. At some point, 2 yo dozed off in the stroller. The boys got up close to Washington Monument, as close as you can get, which is a row of flags. 8 yo told me it's the tallest obelisk in the world. I was thinking how Egyptian obelisks lasted for thousands of years, and our national symbol might crumble after a bit over a century. While we were next to the monument, I made the boys look for the other landmark--the White House. 6 yo spotted it first. We walked half a block closer. At this point, 6 yo sat down on the ground and declared himself to be too sleepy to walk. I gave everyone water and we proceeded to the garage. 8 yo remarked how everything is so close together. I was wondering about concrete planters running around the perimeter of a lot of buildings. They were smack in the middle of sidewalks. I was thinking how we have a culture of fear now.

Once we loaded into the car, we proceeded to Baltimore. It was supposed to take one hour; it took two. The traffic was atrocious. I was studying really run-down neighborhoods within a few miles of the Capitol. 8 yo asked why licence plates say taxation without representation. I explained about the District of Columbia and how it is not a state, so people do not have a voice in where their taxes should go. Inwardly, I was thinking about how many millions those planters cost. How much does it cost to maintain them? How much for all extra security? Howe much for free museums? And why can't some of the money trickle out to the rest of the city?

We stayed with a Chabad couple for Shabbos. That was a learning experience, too. How many of you would just go to another city to be put up with random people? They turned out to be very nice and put with with my kids who were crawling out of their skin after those two hours in traffic.

At some point during Shabbos, after nice shabbos groups, playing on a tire swing, and enjoying a generous kiddush, 8 yo remarked that he would like to live in Baltimore. 6 yo got hold of Follow Your Nose, a book about Donald Duck and his nephews. It is about them going camping, getting lost and using their senses to get out. First time I read it to him, that's the message I got. On the third reading, on Shabbos evening, he decided to make it into a logical game of figuring out by textual clues who is Dewey, Huey and Loiue. Moreover, he continued with this on every page.

One more thing: on the drive back we started listening to Tiger, Tiger. It is about two tiger cubs captured in the jungle and brought to Rome, one to fight gladiators and another to become Caesar's daughter's pet. If I knew what was this book about, I probably would not have picked it. It was bloody and gory, it did not mince words and was on a pretty high level. The boys sat there, spellbound,as the guts of gladiators glistened on hot Roman sand. 

I will never understand why bullies are scary, but gore is not.

Also, whenever someone from the back seat would yell, hey look at this! I would say that I cannot look, but they need to describe it to me.