Because my business is everyone's business

"Are they all yours?"
"All but one."
"Are you sure?"

I had to pause. That was a new one. Not the "Are you sure?" I've had that one before with a different comment.

"Yes, I'm sure. One of them is my nephew." I wanted to add that I knew that I had a lot of kids but that I was confident that I had not forgotten a pregnancy.

One day I was asked if the younger two, the two who are separated by only 2 years, were twins.
"No," I responded, "They 2 years and 2 weeks apart."
The woman then looked at the two boys who are similar in size and appearance and wrinkled up her face. "Are you sure? They look like twins."
I told her that I very distinctly remembered being pregnant twice to get those two. She still wasn't convinced when she walked away.

"Your boys sure all look alike. Does their Daddy have blue eyes?"
"No, actually, my husband has dark brown eyes."
"Well, you can tell they have the same Daddy because they sure look all alike."
"They do have the same Daddy...my husband."
She kind of hemmed and hawed after that comment because she realized what she had been insinuating.

"WOW! All are those children YOURS!" As I entered an elevator with a man whose child was attempting to scale the walls. I don't mean figuratively.
After looking around to make sure I hadn't picked up the extra number of children needed to actually cause someone to make that sort of comment, I told the man that yes, these four children were in fact mine. While "monkey" child repeatedly failed in his attempts to climb the stainless steel covered walls, my four stood watching curiously and quietly. We've been riding the elevator at the hospital twice a week for almost 3 years now. We've gone over elevator behavior and curtsey extensively. And I reinforce it when needed.
"I don't think I could handle four boys. Just the one boy is enough for us." said the man with a smug smile on his face, though what he was feeling smug about, I'm not sure.
I really wanted to say, "Yes, I could only handle your one kid too." But instead I smiled and gave the boys the look that said "Just in case you didn't know, there is no climbing up the elevator walls. Do not not get any ideas of trying."

"No girls? Aren't you going to have a girl?" Asked the old man with a little pity in his voice.
"No girls, I guess God gave me all boys for a reason."
"Well you should have a girl. I wouldn't trade a million dollars for my little girl."
Now I get these comments all the time. Each dumb person only says it once. But my boys get to hear each and every one of them. I don't ever want them thinking that I feel bad because they are all boys.
So I looked that man in the eye and said very directly, "I wouldn't trade a million dollars for ANY of my boys."
I felt bad for a split second for being harsh with an old man but then I saw my two oldest boys smile in pride.

An older woman stood watching us with a wistful smile as we unloaded two full grocery carts. As I finally paid for this mountain of food, she leaned over to me and said, "I have four grown boys. No one ever realizes how lucky we are."
"Aren't we though? I'm almost embarrassed to be so blessed."
What good boys," she said as she walked away, "Y'all take care of your Mamma, now."
"We will," said the oldest three as the puffed out their little proud chests and continued to move full bags to the buggies.

Be thankful for all your blessings. No matter the number or gender.

ZooMom, Queen of the Zoo and quite a lot

Six degrees of Kevin Bacon

Oddly enough I'm only three degrees removed from Kevin Bacon. Yes, that's right me and Kevin Bacon are practically fast friends.

My dear Husband (first degree) went to high school with Diane Lane (second degree) who starred in My Dog Skip with Kevin Bacon. (third degree)

And if we are splitting hairs, I'm even closer because I once slept in the same bed that Kevin Cosner slept in (In the early 90's this was a big freaking deal. "Kevin Cosner sat on this toilet. Kevin Cosner ate from this fork. Kevin Cosner put in head on this pillow." It was a funny weekend.)
and Kevin Cosner was in JFK with Kevin Bacon.
That's two degrees.

So dear readers,
do a little research. How close are you to Mr Bacon? Because Kevin is connected to everybody and you don't even have to go back to Noah.

Zoomom...she's shared Kevin Cosner's bed

It went like this

Last Saturday, I noticed an itchy, painful place on my side. I chalked it up to an irritable waistband on the junk shorts I was wearing while painting my kitchen cabinets. (Saturday was day three of that job.)

From there on it went something like this.

Sunday: Hey this spot feels even worse. What the heck? Did I get cleaning fluid on it? Maybe that Bam! is caustic to my skin?

Monday: Ok...Weird...The itchy painful spot is bigger. Now it runs from my waist band to bra line in a 2 inch swatch. But I don't see anything.

Tuesday: Ow, ow, ow, ow...rash. Oh man. This really hurts. It's like it was burned. I'm not even a pain wimp. I had one kid with pitocin and no pain meds. I should be able to handle a little rash thing. Gosh, I am so tired. Why do I feel so tired?

Wednesday: Worse than yesterday. Ok, that's it. I'm going to the doctor even though I feel stupid making an appointment for an itchy, painful rash. I was so tired I took a nap today and yesterday. I am not a nap person. This can't be related to the rash and the terrible pain around it.

Thursday: Don't touch it. Don't touch me. Oh this hurts. As soon as MIL arrives, I'm going to the doctor...if he laughs at me I'm going to be so mad.
MIL arrives and looks at the rash as says...."Hey, that looks like shingles."

Shingles!
Shingles is an old people thing. I'm not old. So I do a little research before my doctor's appointment.

Chicken pox? check that one
compromised immune system from a list of causes including stress? Ha, ha,ha, we've got stress in spades around here.
The pictures were pretty scary but they looked similar to what I was wearing.

The doctor agreed and I started a topical ointment and some horse-size anti-viral pills. Yesterday, I noticed that the larger area wasn't as painful. The rash is slowly getting better I don't cringe if something brushes up against me. And I can knit again.

What amazes me is how such a small area could be so debilitating. Some older people get shingles all over one side of their body. I've often heard about older people with bad episodes just losing the will to live.
I can understand that.

Bad stuff

This just about sums it up

I snagged this from Blue Star Chronicles. (Blue star as in Service Flags not Blue star of Israel)
It pretty much sums up things. Or course, you can replace "Palestine" with Hamas, Al Qaida, Hezbollah, Iraqi Insurrection, et al.

Updates from the Zoo

Random Stuff

Mississippi is more humid than here. I didn't know that was possible. Even at 101, it feels better here than 93 in Hattiesburg.

Adjoining rooms are worth double the money.

A 40 acre zoo (including a park and parking lot) is not really a zoo..even if you have a tiger.

520 miles, one way with 4 kids through 3 states is a long, long, long time in the van with just one adult.

In 100 weather the bolts that hold together the outdoor play structures at McDonald's get hot enough to cause second degree burns

Small pools in the South are too warm to swim in by the end of July.

After 4 days, you can get sick of eating out and crave just a simple sandwich at home.

If you have a service member in you family, you need to know the Army Emergency Response number for the Red Cross. If a family member dies while they are deployed, they are the only people that can contact the member's unit to confirm the death and get permission for that family member to go home for the funeral.

520 miles one way with 4 kids through 3 states isn't any better with 2 adults.

I can not knit in the car. It makes me car sick.

Cracker Barrel restaurants are wonderful for families on the road.

A solid black dress, with hose at an outdoor funeral in the south...in July is really hot.

You can be sad enough not to care how hot it is.

If you leave an old car in the driveway for a month and you don't crank it even once...the battery might just give up the ghost.

Batteries aren't that bad to replace.

Driving 520 miles with just one adult is very lonely. People doing so tend to call their loved ones at home on a hourly basis.

ZooMom is agreeing with Burt Bacharach..."I hope I don't get hit in the rear again."

Talladega Boy

S has become obsessed with how the car works. He's even turned into a mini backseat driver at the wise old age of three.

It's raining Momma. Turn on your rain flippers.
The light is green. You can go Momma.
Hey Momma, your spinning wheel is turning. (My ADD brain starts singing "What comes up...must come down.")
Did you put on your "clinkers?" You're tunring...you should put on your clinkers, you know.

And while I am greatly appreciative to have such a highly verbal and curious child...I could do without the constant advice from the middle seat.
Gentle requests for a little quiet tend to fall on deaf ears. Loud requests for just a little quiet please get me about 5 seconds of peace.

The boy has an agenda. He plans to do all of ZooDad's constructive driving advice while he is gone.

Not only that...the boy is making plans to drive too.
Yesterday, we all exited the van after a monumental grocery shopping expedition ... all except S. He climbed into the driver's seat and refused to leave as the older boys unloaded a beastly amount of groceries. I finally retrieved him from the seat with much yelling and tears with him howling, "I just want to push all the buttons."

Later that evening, I got in the van to run an errand, forgetting that car-obsessed child had been working the driver's area like a madman. My seat was in the wrong position, the wipers were going (both front and back), my blinkers were on, and the lights were dimmed down completely.
Thankfully, you can't mess with the stereo system when the power is off.
Car boy. In 13 years, I'm going to have some trouble.

Speaking of cars...on our trip to Mississippi we passed the Talladega speedway. It's right there on I-20 in Alabama.
Now I don't follow NASCAR but I know enough to recognize the drivers and a few tracks. I'm probably going to make some fan cringe in sheer horror, but the first thought I had when I saw the track was...."Hey, that looks just like the racetrack in the movie Cars."
I also noted that the condition on the track was far superior to the condition of that portion of I-20 but that's not saying much.
I've been on clay roads with better conditions.

Zoo mom is pulling in to the pit for new tires.

I can't believe it

I forgot to post cake pictures.

Geesh...and I didn't even wax poetically about the birthdays of the smallest boys in the zoo.
Oh well, A had a birthday. He's a big boy 5 now. S had a birthday two weeks later. He's a not-quite-ready-to-be-a-big-boy 3.

We had a Spongebob and Gary themed party. I'm particularly tickled with the Gary cake. I just freehanded both of them.

As you can tell from this picture, one of the boys is extremely excited about being a whole year older. Oh yes sir-ree. He's been telling everyone he meets that he is now 5 years old. Even the people who were at his party and have been told several times before.

He just wants to make sure that no one forgets.
Five.

Yes, I'm procrastinating. The van is clean. I have new brakes. The DVD players are fully functional. The toys and swim stuff has been packed and laundry is clean but neither folded nor packed. I still have a lot to do. (sigh)

When I get home, I'll tell you about our hamster healing miracle. It's really amazing once you get past the gross factor. The boys are thrilled. They've been holding a hamster death watch for the past couple of weeks.

Enjoy y'alls weekend. I sure will.

Butterflies

7:08 and I am up again, showered, dressed, breakfasted, and waiting to wake the minions of Hades from their slumber. (The boys do not like to be awakened early.)

I have nervous/excited butterflies.

This time tomorrow, we'll be pulling out of the driveway for our 520 mile (according to mapquest) road trip. Now 520 miles seems daunting enough but I plan to do it with 4 boys ages 10, 7, 5, and 3...with me as the only adult.

I am crazy. That's all I can say.

ZooDad said he had a couple days of and I was crazy and desperate enough to pile us all on in the van so we could see him again.

things that I have on my mind.

What if I get sick? Sick on the road is bad enough. Sick on the road with 4 kids and you are the only adult will take some orchestrating.

What if I get a flat? I can change a tire. I have done it. But keeping 4 little ones safe on the side of the interstate while doing so adds a new challenge to the formula.

What if we get lost? Well, I don't get lost really. I'm one of those map fiends. But sometimes I do end up taking the wrong turn, it usually doesn't bother me but I have to worry about it anyway.

What if I lose a child somehow? Big time worry. Yesterday, we got an amber alert for a girl taken from a rest station. Note to self: take all boys into the restrooms with me and keep them under close observation at all times. No matter how much the other restroom women glare at me.

What if the van breaks down? It shouldn't but it could. Call insurance, arrange for a tow and then cry like crazy I guess. Get a rental and get back on schedule.

sigh

Tonight's agenda: No zyrtec no matter how bad my allergies are. Finish all trip preparations by 10 pm then an hour of the History Channel while drinking a beer.
Then hopefully 8 hours of sleep.

Cross your fingers for me.

Can't sleep

Yes, it's 2:35 am and I am up. I can't sleep. I haven't really slept in 3 weeks. I wonder why.

We're taking off tomorrow. We are driving 500 miles to visit ZooDad for a couple of days and then driving 500 miles back.
We're that desperate.

I'm behind on everything. I won't have time to get books ready for out used curriculum sale. (Though I really need too.) I haven't done any lesson plans for the upcoming year. I have ordered all the new books though and only one order is outstanding.
I haven't even sketched out a plan for the co-op class I'm teaching. The plans that are due August 3rd.
My house is a mess with scattered toys and a mound of laundry to fold.

Today, I have to take the van back to the shop to correct the problem they created yesterday during my routine maintenance. Oh yes, I am cussing up a blue streak in my head over that. I have to get the boys up at 7 am so we can be there when the shop opens.
Then we have 4 hours at the hospital for therapy. Yes....FOUR hours. My laptop battery won't last that long but I'm going to take a few things to try to do some planning.
When we finally get home, I have to clean out the van and start packing.
I have to install the new DVD players. (8 hours, 4 boys, one mom....the DVD is going to be a necessity.)
I have to get all the pets set up for my sister who has graciously agreed to handle the house for me.
I have to clean my house so I don't come home to chaos and loose my mind entirely. (too late)

And am I getting a good nights sleep so I can awaken at 6:30 all bright eyed and bushy tailed, rearing to start my very busy day......nope. I'm up at 2 am after tossing and turning for 3 hours.

Let me count my blessings so I can sleep a bit:
1. My hubby is still in county and can call me every night (I have the $155 cell phone bill to prove that.)
2. The sunflowers that set off my allergies are just as beautiful in the vase outside on my deck table as they were on my kitchen table.
3. The mound of laundry is clean thanks to my nice new washer and dryer.
4. None of the pets have died of old age yet and my sister is happy to come take care of them while we are gone.
5. I found a car DVD player with 2 screens for only slightly more than ZooDad's cell phone bill.
6. I got birthday money and bought a cool knitting book.
7. We have enough money to travel to see ZooDad without worrying about finances and we can stop and explore without feeling guilty.
8. We're all healthy.
9. ZooDad got body armor and a helmet that fits.
10. My van should be a quick, free fix.

See all is not gloom and doom. Maybe I can catch a little sleep before the alarm sounds.

Night y'all.

A meme I liked

Awaking..........after a couple of the boys
Missing..........my soldier
Drinking.........too much pool water
Reading..........The Out-of-sync child has fun
Writing..........lesson plans
Sending..........care packages to ZooDad
Hearing..........Star Wars blasters
Weathering.......a sunburn
Bouncing..........too many scheduled activities
Breakfasting.....grits with butter and salt
Dressing.........in loose, cool clothes (sunburn)
Praying.......... for patience and peace
Ironing..........some curtains I just washed
Flushing......... no toys anymore. It makes quite a mess
Measuring........a space to put the microwave
Cleaning.........the food pantry
Wondering........what time we should leave to get to the fireworks on post.
Reunioning.......not for some time. ZooDad will get one week of leave
Telephoning......Mississippi
Eating...........a picnic under the stars
Watching.........the boys work together to clear a video game
Sleeping.........poorly and waking often

Give him 20 years and he'll be in the majors

Look at that ball fly.
Here's baby S. He'll be three next week or so. Three.
He substituted on A's t-ball team for 4 and 5 year olds and he wasn't even close to being the least talented on the team. In fact, he stayed on task and hustled on every hit.

Everyday there commented on how the boy seemed to love baseball.
In his own words: "I hit the ball and I run and run. I catch the ball, I throw to the base." He's got the major points down pat.

suds

One quick story.

Everything in the house has been breaking down lately. It's the number one rule of deployment. When your military spouse leaves or is preparing to leave...everything started breaking. It's like some cosmic requirement to remind you just how handy that missing spouse can be some times.

Anyway...the story. J loaded the dishwasher this afternoon. It's his job. To keep the mess down, we use those little dishwasher packet things of pre-measured dish soap. (This change was implemented after I bleached out a cabinet door with spilled liquid dishwasher soap.)

About 10 minutes into the cycle, J called me to see the catastrophe...about 4 inches of suds that had dripped out of the washer.
Oh crud! Do not tell me that my not even a year old dishwasher is on the fritz.

I stopped the machine to take a peek inside. It smelled like mountain pine. Strongly of mountain pine.

Then it occurred to me that J had loaded the pan that I had squirted with concentrated sink soap (Palmolive I think) and left to soak. The excessive soap led to the suds overflow.

Whew.
Crisis averted.

and just because I have a steep learning curve, I put too much soap in the new front loading washer and had to rinse forever. The boys got a huge jolly over the bubble filled washer window.

When ZooDad called, they immediately ratted me out. Mom over soaped TWO appliances today.

Carrying a "big boy"

S has always been "older" than his age. He's always been in such a rush to be as big as his brothers. He'll be three soon and now he's rethinking that "big boy" thing a bit. Right before he turned two, he stopped taking an afternoon nap. He didn't want to sleep and our frequent therapy trips interfered with naps anyway.
He didn't want to be carried, or ride in a stroller. Instead, he chose to walk alongside his bigger brothers.
He was never one to cuddle. He didn't want to be held and hugged often. As my MIL put it, "He didn't stay a baby for long."

But today, he fell asleep in the van on the way to Best Buy. To keep him from blowing up in a full temper tantrum, I carried him on my hip into the store. The whole way across the parking lot, I cuddled him to try to keep him from waking up grumpy and he let me do it.

On the way out of the store, he asked to be carried again.

He hasn't asked to be carried in a long, long time. And at 38 pounds, he quite a load to carry too. Since he's out of practice, he's a cumbersome package also.

When we got home, he climbed into my lap and just sat still with with his hands in my hair. My little rough and tumble man is turning back into a cuddle boy. My little almost three year old is becoming my "baby" again.

I've been knitting too.

My pictures are up on the knitting blog. Over there on the side bar is a link.

Warning boring post

I'm too tired to write an entertaining post.

Call us obsessed. We've washed everything in the house. We really have. The new washer/dryer is soooooo cool. I'm still a bit skeptical since it uses so little water.

Yesterday, the boys had a regular school day and played outside until they were covered in sweat, dirt, pine mulch. Then it was time for A's last t-ball game. His team was short a few players so S ended up playing again.
That boy was born to play baseball.
As an end-of-season party, we went to a local pizza buffet. A got his trophy and medal and S got one of the extra medals for being a great back-up player.

I also ordered the bulk of the boys books for next year. Now, I just have to hunt down a few stragglers and then start planning.

How I entertained myself last evening

I can get through the days just fine since ZooDad is normally at work, but in the evening...well, time passes really slowly. So I have to find things to keep me busy. (You can't knit for hours every evening.)
So last night after the pizza binge, I mowed the front yard, edged the drive and walkway, and blew off all the concrete surfaces. Then I finished another knitted washcloth while the boys played slo-mo freeze tag.

After baths, all the boys went to bed and I folded the last big load of laundry.

Excitement at the Zoo

Oh yes. We are waiting with bated breaths. We are hyped up in anticipation.

Someone's birthday?
Nope, that was yesterday.
Maybe a big game coming up?
Nope, that was last night.
Are we taking a trip?
Nope, ZooDad won't have any time off for Independence Day weekend.

So what has our household all aquiver with joy?

We are waiting for the delivery of our new front loading washer and dryer.
Oh yes.
And I'm not the only one excited. The boys have already picked out the first clothes to be washed. They were chosen based on color and size for prime washer viewing opportunity.
That's right...my boys plan on sitting there and watching the clothes wash.

They are such weirdos.


Quotes from the 2 year old who is very soon to be three.

That dog is woofing at me.

This feet is dirty. That feet is dirty too. Both my feets is dirty.

Oh please don't make me ride home on the car roof. (This was yelled loudly in a home improvement store.)

What I have been doing since the last time I posted.

Let's see. Rather than straining my sleep deprived brain and writing this up in some pseudo-clever way, I'll just do a list.

1. A had strep throat. He didn't spread it to anyone else but he did have 2 days of lethargic 103 degree fever. When the little guy who normally runs around eating all day long...stops eating and just sits on the couch staring, you know he's feeling mighty bad. He's one day 4 of the "pink stuff" and is feeling much better.

2. ZooDad had a marathon session of house fixing activities. He replaced my leaking garbage disposal. Replaced 2 dimmer switches. Replaced a broken toilet handle. (Same toilet handle that broke before. Finished the new swingset/play fort. Hauled 13 cubic yards of pine mulch. Replaced 18 feet of privacy fence. and then packed up all his stuff and headed out.

3. We saw Cars. It was funny but a total remake of Doc Hollywood. We started watching Zathura but the boys were so disgusted by the characters' behavior (And we were disgusted with the father's disciplining) that we turned it off after the first 10 minutes. Ugh!

4. We got Speech and OT approved for both A and M through Tricare. They will cover everything needed and the school will provide 2 speech sessions each week for both. It is such a relief to not have to worry about that anymore.

5. My nephew has joined our homeschool. I'm not even shocked anymore about what he doesn't know. He's very gifted in math but the school has failed this child in everything else. He didn't know what a predicate was. He doesn't know what an adjective is. He didn't know what geography was.
Oh my.
He'll learn. And he excited about learning too.


Today is more learning. We're re-starting SOTW I and using Kingfisher and the Oxford book as a supplement for the older kids.

First night alone

Well, that's no where near true. ZooDad has always traveled for work, both as a soldier and as a civilian. He's normally gone about a quarter of the year, every year. So it's not like I haven't been on my own before.

It's not even the first time I've been a wife of a deployed soldier. ZooDad did a stint in Bosnia during the Clinton years. He also fought in the Persian Gulf war. Great Day! The man is now entering his third combat operation. I think he has done his duty and then some. (It would have been 4 combat deployments but the 3 planes sent to Haiti in September 1994 were turned around.)

This one feels different though. It feels longer already.

I'm fixing to rearrange my pantry this evening. (Yep..at 10:30 pm) I'm hoping to tire myself out enough to sleep each night. At least ZooDad will come home to a clean and well organized house.

More info tomorrow.

We're circling....

Just a little more than a week to go and ZooDad will be gone.
16 months....geesh. That's like forever in "kid time."

So we're just kind of in "standby" mode and trying to make every single moment count but also trying to get all the stuff done that needs to get done.
(Who's going to change the light in the stairwell in the next 16 months. Who's going to clean the back house gutter? That thing is tall. Who's going to move the big heavy stuff, or get the Christmas decorations down from the attic? These are all the things I'm trying not to think about.)

But I do have lots to tell you about...but not today.

The monster-big fish that I caught. (10 pounds and 26 inches...I even have pictures.)

Baby S playing his first t-ball game at the age of 2 and wowing the families on both sides of the field.

Adding a new boy to the zoo.

Said "New boy's" take on homeschooling thus far.

Oh, by the way, no other children got ill and I managed to escape all manner of illness. I think was due to my iron constitution and the fact that I forbid it from happening. (laugh)

He gets that from his Momma.

My children have distinctly different personalities.

Over the years that we have been raising these boys, coded and I have come up with our own nicknames based on their personalities. S, who will be 3 next month, is "the boy." And he is all boy. He's physically active, thick bodied, and determined to do what he wants. He's tiny little line backer and when he gets set on a task, he will not be swayed.

A is almost 5 and he is the cuddle boy. He's physically affectionate and always smiling. He's friendly and touchy and not interested in rough play. But he will hug everybody.

M...well he's the dictator or "the little judge" as my Daddy used to call him. He's serious and lays down the rules. It's his way or no way. If you won't accommodate his needs...well he just won't play. He loved strategy games, especially war games. The boys is set on World Domination.
When he was a toddler, he always kept one hand on his stomach. We called him Napoleon. We joke that when he grows up, he'll be a military strategist.

J, the oldest, is the diplomat. He's always smoothing over issues and getting everyone to work together. Sometimes he uses this power for evil by convincing his brothers to do stuff they wouldn't normally agree to. (He gets busted for that.) He's soft hearted though and really hates true conflict. But he never, ever holds a grudge. (I admire that in him. I don't have that gift.) He's also extremely creative, but that's a gift that most diplomats need.
He'll either be a lawyer or an elementary school teacher. He's is great with the little kids. Amazingly so.

Last night at the pool, ZooDad got to see how our oldest's skills are coming along. The boy's were playing in the wading pool. J had made a friend and then a pair of sisters joined in. The children found 2 dive sticks and dive ring and J created a game.

We watched this for a bit and when J came over for a drink, we asked him what they were doing.
"Oh," he replied,"I've made up a game where they have to carry the ring fro one end to the other to score a goal. They have to carry it on the stick though. But they can steal from each other. One team member blocks while the other carries the ring."

While he was explaining this to us, the four players waited patiently in the pool for him to return. When he fished his drink, he got back in the water and the teams lined up for J to do the ring toss that apparently starts the game. A couple other children had gathered to see if they could join in too. No one seemed to question J rules or even offer any other suggestions. It sure seemed like a cool game.

ZooDad looked over at me. "You know, he gets that from his Momma. He's got to run things doesn't he?"

Well, somebody has too.

croak

It's noisy here at the zoo.
And it's not the boys.

It's the frogs. We have tree frogs. Lots and lots of tree frogs.
Our house backs up to a "wetland park" also called swampy land with a creek. But it's really not a bad situation. Our elevation is such that we have no concerns of flooding and we have no back neighbors. Well, not human ones.

We do however, get much of the swamp wildlife. Thankfully, in the 7 years we have lived here, we have never spotted a venomous snake in our yard. I'm sure they have passed through, but we've never seen them. My left side neighbor, The Snake Hunter, has both spotted and sighted a couple of bad boys and I have witnessed and identified their sad little carcasses.

Recently, we unearthed a cache of box turtle eggs. We reburied them lightly and later got to see one of the hatchlings emerge. A couple of weeks ago, a red tailed hawk landed right in the middle of the boys' play area. (That was way cool!) A Carolina Wren has built a sweet little nest, complete with 4 chirping babies, in my garage...on my fertilizer shelf. Mamma bird flies in and out the back door, past the dogs, the various gear, and any boys who are digging through the upright freezer.
So you get the idea. If I could get the critters to pick up a broom, I'd be Snow White in the suburbs.

But today is June 1st, so that pretty much means it is frog season. And my house appears to be prime frog mating territory. All morning long I have listened to one particularly vocal fellow boasting of his frog manliness. He's is nothing if not determined.

I happen to like the frogs. Frogs are my very favorite animal. I love their little bug eyes and froggy smiles. Frogs and newts just ooze of cuteness in my book.

Let's just say that ZooDad does not share my frog enthusiasm. For him, frog season is like a return of the plagues. (If ZooDad had been Pharoah, Moses and the gang would have been quickly escorted out of Egypt after the 2nd plague. It would have been quick victory.)
He stepped out of the house this morning and then looked back with horror, "What is that sound? Is that a frog?"

Yes, honey. The frogs are back.

He whipped his head around looking for the vile noisemaker, "You better keep the doors shut. Don't let those things get in the house."

My brave soldier. Let's hope the enemy doesn't come bearing frogs.

I'm ready...I'm ready...I'm ready.

Whoops..not that ready. I submitted too soon.

Here's the cake I made for my step-great-niece. (How's that for a family relationship.) She wanted a Spongebob cake. I couldn't find the Wilton pan, so I just had to wing it.

Here's how it turned out.

I was pretty impressed with myself.
I free handed the whole thing with a bamboo skewer and a print out from Nickelodeon.

"A" has already requested a Gary cake for his birthday party in July. "S" wanted Spongebob or Squidward.
I'm going to push for Spongebob because I can't imagine how to make a squid.

People of the SouthEast

I hope I didn't disturb anyone with my hooting and stomping this morning.
We got a bit of good news.

First, I'm sorry that I've dropped off the blogging Earth. We've been busy with deployment preparations.
ZooDad was due to leave us on the 3rd and not return until October 2007. Today, we get word that he will have another 2 week class here at the post in town.

YAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
He has to report on the 18th instead...unless we can get that week of leave approved. (cross your fingers, pray, and hope for us.)

We spent the weekend building.
Zoodad tore down and rebuilt the dog fence. (We had to move it to make way for the new play fort/swing that we are building.) The dogs' fence had to be done before we started repairs on the big fence between our's and the neighbor's yards.

I spent the time building what S called, "A little house just for me" that sits on top of a new play fort/swingset. Pictures will come later, once the whole structure is finished and the yard is tidied up. Some people have orderly sites with no trash, debris, with tools all neatened up and all that.
We aren't those people.
I also micro-managed ZooDad's fence building and pointed out branches that needed to be cut. (It was a very important job. ZooDad has a tendency to whittle full grown trees down to a single stick and leaf.)

Laundry is still behind but we have clean clothes. The house isn't quite what I wanted for clean but it will keep the health department away.
We're in the middle of summer reading programs and that's helping our weary brains a bit.
I'm even have my own twaddle reading to enjoy.
We just rejoined the pool that has a great children's area and wading pools.

And two more weeks of ZooDad.
I couldn't ask for more...except that week of leave. That would be the icing on my cupcake.

Total lack of motivation

Today is shot.

Totally shot.
I don't feel like doing anything. at. all.

school kids are out, so the boys are playing in the front yard. They'll have plenty of time for school once ZooDad is gone.

I really need to do housework, but I have no real desire too. The kitchen is trashed from yesterday's cake making. (Spongebob cake for my step-great-niece.) laundry is reaching Everest proportions. There are three boxes of school books in my dining room and more on the table. And my to-do list is getting scarily long.

So what am I doing? Absolutely nothing. I'm not even knitting ZooDad's boot socks.
I had to scrap up motivation to post this.

I think this must be time for my monthly crash. It happens. It just is happening at a bad time. I have way to much to do.

Run Forest!

Is this not the cutest thing!

Here's A running home. Notice...He's levitating.
Actually, he runs in a gazelle type fashion and tends to leap.

I was so amazed. A didn't cry, pout, or hide. He willingly lined up, batted, ran the bases, and chased just about every ball hit.
At only his second time at t-ball.

That's not the norm for A. He's usually slow to warm up to new things.

Not that I'm complaining. It was wonderful experience. It was nice to see him as just a plain old kid. He wasn't any less coordinated than the others out there.

On a funny note, the coach put him up front and the traditional "line up and high-five" the other team.

Well, A's team lined up behind him, but A didn't walk forward so neither did the team. Instead the other team walked past them all.
Hee, hee.
The other parent's laughed about it. But A did high-five everyone with great enthusiasm.



On a completely unrelated note:
I got two packages today. One a replacement USB cord for my Ipod. I can now update my ipod and add some new music.

Second was a Mario Mix Dance Dance Revolution and two dance pads for the boys. This is the second release of this game. I pre-ordered it a month ago to make sure I didn't miss getting it.
It's a big hit. Even ZooDad jumped on the mat to try it out. (In fact, we had to kick him off so the kids could play.)

It's like the DDR for PS2 except the music is dance beat classical music or traditional Mario tunes. (Right now the boys are dancing to a techno version of Pomp and Circumstance earlier it was Carmen. ) And it has the normal quest type game like a Mario game.
The boys are breaking a sweat even on the easy level.

The foot work has to be right on the beat. It let's you know if you are perfect, close, early or late.
Besides the exercise component, the timing and footwork mimic the interactive metronome therapy that M is doing.

I could sell tickets to watch little S play it. He studies the screen so intently and them stomps like a madman on random arrows.
Hysterical and totally worth the money.

Antici...........pation

Tonight A has his very first t-ball game. Well, actually it's t-ball school for 4 and 5 year olds and the "game" is only called that because it involves another team.

It's 1:08 and the game begins at 5pm.

A is already dressed.

First, thing this morning he came downstairs wearing his team hat. After breakfast, he put on his team shirt. I rounded up black sport shorts, black striped baseball socks and a pair of cleats to fit. (I keep a box of sports clothes and paraphenalia. With 4 boys, everything gets reused and passed down. I don't have cleats to fit M since J seems to have skipped that size, so he'll get new cleats this season. However I do have pants, shorts and socks in various sizes and colors to "shop" from.)

Once A spied the pile of sport clothes, he immediately got dressed.
So here it is 3 hours and 52 minutes before game time and the boy is set to go.
He even has his bat and glove beside the front door.

One more boy out on the grass and clay; chasing balls and running bases.
Three down and just one more to go.

Take me out to the ball game...

It's baseball season part two here in the zoo. 3 out of 4 boys are playing this season. J is in machine pitch II, J is in T-ball, and A is in t-ball school.

You want entertainment, watch a group of 4 and 5 year-olds playing t-ball. They leap over the bases, the entire outfield chases every long ball and then wrestles over them and they have no aim, which doesn't really matter since they can't catch.
It's crazy. They should charge for tickets but instead we get to watch the hilarity for free.

Not much really going on except baseball. Lots and lots and lots of baseball. Every darn day.

unfortunately this makes poor blog fodder. So until I get some motivation, y'all get to read about my baseball venting.
Lucky y'all.

Hey, you could be at the field with me every night.

What in the heck?

It looks like the Army exploded all over my house.

That can only mean one thing....
ZooDad is home.
Yep, he's home for 3 weeks. Well, he's not officially home. He just happens to be temporally assigned to our local base for the next three weeks.

Guess what he brought me for Mother's Day? Dirty laundry.
I don't mind though. I'll happily take his dirty laundry. I might even grow to miss it.

The boys gave me two new charms for my mega-charm bracelet. I got a frog with green inlay and a "We Heart our Mom" charm. Now, I just have to get them soldered on this week.

We'll, I'm off for our busy day. I won't be around much this week due to baseball season part two cranking up. Tonight 3 out of 4 boys have practice.
I totally did not think this baseball thing through at all. Way too much baseball. Way. Too. Much.

Like David Against the Mighty Goliath

Yep just when I was getting geared up to lob rocks at Tricare for months if needed, the hospital commander approved my request to keep our current civilian primary care managers instead of going to the Post hospital.
Yep, that right..we get "free" (only cost me my hubby's life) civilian healthcare.

I prevail!!!!!
HA!!! I laugh in your general direction.

Actually it's a shallow victory because I still have to have everything reapproved and reassessed but at least it's with my same old doctor and not some CPT whose going to PCS as soon as we get our appointment. I don't have to trek out to base for every episode of croup, or ear infection, or what-ever-odd-and-nasty bug my kids pick up.

So I faxed my ID card to my oh-so-wonderful (she really is) pediatrician. Then she called to remake the referrals I needed. J to the urologist. M and A for OT and Speech therapy. Oh, and also to the developmental pediatrician.
yep...developmental ped.
That "A" word came up again. Thankfully, it was the Asperger's "A" word and not Autism. What surprised me was that it was for both M and A. Non-verbal learning disorder was also mentioned.

Of course reading the descriptions of symptoms, I see a good bit of both of them there. They don't fit the mold in all areas, but they both are very verbal, have poor social skills, and have some serious motor-planning problems. The appointment is not until late October*** so it's way too soon for me to even think about.

All these labels. I know lots of people in the homeschooling community are anti-label and anti-assessment But for me, it's nice to know what the monster's name is. It takes away some of the fear and apprehension. I like to know my enemy.
"So that's what you are. How can I combat you? What size rock do I need in my tiny sling?"

Goliath comes in many forms.

*** ZooDad quite snarkily responded,"Expletive, are there any needs we need to anticipate for their 65th birthdays? We need to make those appointments now." He doesn't use a slingshot. He flings boulders.

I know it's wrong...

But I do actually laugh at my special needs child.

I can't help it. The boy is funny.
In the van today on the way to speech he was attempting to tell me about some superhero that he made up.

A has apraxia of speech and dysfluency. Dysfluency is a form of stuttering. But A doesn't repeat first sounds like c-c-c-c-c-car. Nope. He repeats whole words. Sometimes, entire phrases, as he tries to figure out how to form the next sound he wants to make.
It tends to get in the way conversationally but he is never embarrassed.

Today in the Van.

A: "Hey Momma. Hey, hey, hey Momma. I think, I think, I think..Hey Momma, I think....I think......"
(We are all waiting patiently to find out what he thinks.)
A: "What was I talking about?"
The van explodes with laughter.
Me: "I don't know buddy. What were you thinking about?"
A: '"I don't know. I'll just think about something else."

This was before the dreaded speech therapy at which he spent the whole hour on the floor refusing to do anything. I don't know what set him off. I'm sure school ST will have a letter for me on Monday. Well, scratch that. She'll probably have a discussion ready on Thursday when I go to discuss M's services for next year.
(sigh)

In her defense, she doesn't get to hear our fun in the van.

Zoo Academy of Art and Design

A couple of weeks ago, I bought J one of Mark Kistler's art instruction book: Draw Squad.
It has 30 self driven lessons for basic drawing instruction, each consisting of sub lessons and work sheets.

For the past few days, J has been conducting his own art school for younger brothers. Today's lesson was shading to form 3-D objects. J made a worksheet (instead of having me copy it) for each of his three brothers, complete with grading line and a place for them to write their name.

M apparently decided to skip this morning's lesson and J is a harsh grader. He gave M an 'F' and stated M couldn't attend any more lesson until he completed the unfinished work. The boy is one tought teacher.

A got an 'A+' on shading even though he did more shadowing than shading. J gave him points for trying and following instructions.

Here's J's latest cartoon.
He informed me that this drawing uses foreshortening, shading, surface, size, contour lines, overlapping, density, and shadows.
And since he's learning to draw, everyone else is too.

Right now there is a discussion on super heroes. We watched Sky High this weekend which only added more fuel to our obsession. A makes them up, M adds details and clarification and then J draws the comic books.

Oh...and since I haven't posted

Zoodad passed all the medical. He's back to being an official Army Dude.
One more week at the training camp then he'll be back here for refresher training for 3 weeks.
Then it's off to Mississippi for a month or two, then Kuwait for 12 months. Once he's done there, he'll hang out in Atlanta for a bit. All in all....it's 18 months away from home.

This week won't be as bad as the next three weeks will be. I remember the last time ZooDad deployed. In the weeks before he left, we wanted to spend every moment we could with him. We wanted to cram as much family time in as possible.

I feel the same thing coming on this time. I want to horde his attention and I'm feeling resentful at the thought of sharing him with anyone.

Right now, we're in wait mode. We're waiting for the real stuff to begin. I almost feel like yelling...."JUST GO ALREADY! GO! Go, so can get back home."

I can even imagine how we are going to handle the next year.
A whole freaking year!

Dang.

Jumping on the bandwagon

Where I'm from

I am from iron skillets black from years of use, from glass bottled Coca-Cola and Magnolias blooming sweet and thick.

I am from a house with a window fan with chicken frying in the kitchen and a dish towel calendar hanging on the wall and a dirt swept path from the backdoor.

I am from flower-covered Azaleas, tall Southern Pines, and old Hydrangeas dug up and moved from one house to the other.

I am from Easter Egg Trees and big rabbit cakes and stoic, hard-working women who never complain, from Esther and Uncle Earl and Aunt Ora laughing even though it wasn't proper. I'm from yes ma'am and yes, sir and not touching the shot gun behind the door because Daddy said not to and not because the gun might hurt you.

I am from big family Sunday dinners, tending to cemetery plots, stepping up to help out family without ever being asked, and knowing that nothing ... nothing can ever mean more than family.

From the man who could wish away your warts if you just believed and growing a watermelon in your stomach from the seed you swallowed.

I am from every church in town: Catholic, Baptist, Pentecostal Holiness, and occasionally Methodist. And knowing that God didn't care how you worshipped or where.

I'm from the Olde South, from the place the family has just always been. From grits with salt and butter. From fried bologna and hot boiled peanuts.

From a Southern Matriarch grandmother who claimed “I’ve whipped all my grandchildren.” and a father who taught me to love “The Man in Black”, I’m from folks who pick up stray animals and give them a proper home.

I am from ‘forgetting’ the bad times, embellishing the good times, and knowing that I whole slew of people have my back if I need them. I’m from knowing that no matter what I do…no matter how bad or good…I will always be loved.

A Series of Interesting Events

Wednesday my Mom said cryptically, "Bill*** wants to talk to you about something" Bill is my nephew-in-law if there is such a thing. He's married to my oldest niece who..Thanks to Southern peculiarlarities...is only 4 years younger than me. Her children are actually older than my children.
Anyway, I had a feeling about what the "something" was.

Last summer, their middle child, was trying to recover from a particularly bad year in public school. He had a bad teacher. He got left behind. He fell through the cracks and nothing Niece and NIL did made that any better. NIL had mentioned me possibly tutoring him during the summer but baseball took precedence and I tore up my ankle and had therapy and kid therapy.

Yesterday, my niece called instead of NIL. She's a tender-hearted thing and loves her children. She struggled in school, pitifully. Barely graduating after 2 summer school sessions and five years in school. She wants so much more for her kids.

Her oldest is a star. I mean really. Straight A's, beautiful, great athlete, polite, and gracious. Her second is struggling and it breaks his mother's heart. The school had contacted her. He was in danger of failing. (Yes, first school meeting...with 2 weeks left in school. Draw your own conclusions but I know NIL and Niece are good parents so it isn't them.)

So we talked.

She brought up private school but I know they can't afford the 5K+ a year the a mediocre private school in this area, which, as niece put it, might end up the same for T (her son) as public school. Too many kids, no time for him.

I knew where she was going but she couldn't get the words out.
So I said them for her.

"What do you think about T joining us next year and homeschooling with the boys?"
She started crying.

So we talked and we planned. She's going to talk with NIL. (who has also been called up for Active Duty and ships out for sandbox Duty in early June) I talked with ZooDad last night. (Who is still at the God-forsaken "Camp" doing training so he can also do Sandbox duty though not in the same unit/area as NIL.)
ZooDad is fine with the idea, just as long as it is legal; (I think that part is easily taken care of.)we're not liable for accidents; (I think that's a moot point but I'll humor him.) and they pay for curriculum. (I'm with him on that one. I'm skimping with my own.)
I also can't be responsible for transportation to and from my house and T has to be subject to my rules during his school day. He's just going to be part of the family school.
thankfully, T is a real sweetie. He's a grade ahead of J officially but I'm sure he's not working on that level. He and the boys are tight cousins and play great together. Plus he's blonde and blue eyed so he matches the rest. Most people confuse him with J anyway. No one would believe he wasn't one of the brothers.

So at least for the summer, the Zoo will have a new boy. If things go well, he'll join our little kitchen table school and hopefully flourish with the rest of the Zoo children.
Just wait until he finds out he has to diagram sentences. He's never had Grammar before. Shocking huh? Finishing 5th grade and no actual grammar. (sigh)


***Names changed to protect us from all the internet creeps and freaks.

Another day bites the dust

Today was pretty much a repeat of yesterday. School, therapy, baseball.
School work was finished early. We finished listening to Ginger Pye on CD and started Five Little Peppers and How They Grew. No one made any math mistakes and there was much sentence diagramming. M started a new A to Z Mystery and extolled the wonders of audible books.

M and A got the results from their OT assessments. (sigh) Not as much progress as I expected and some regression. A has gone from 3% on the Peabody preschool test to 1%. It's hard to accept that. He's so smart and clever and funny. But he just isn't catching up in motor skills. He may "fail to make progress." That's the first step to a PDD label (Pervasive Developmental Disorder) and will mean a lot of intrusive tests that I really don't want to do. It also brings up the big "A" word which like a bullet through the heart for me.
M is making progress in some areas but not in others. He even went down in a few areas. Gross motor and writing skills. His speech therapist says that she doesn't know what to do for him. That's nice to hear.
What a downer! At least they are brilliant.

From there we went to the commissary to buy food. The prices are so good. At least we will eat well while ZooDad is gone. The little zoo kids kept parroting the que prompt. "Next please...Next please...Next please." They thought it was hysterical.

From there was baseball for J. To keep s busy this year we have two sessions of baseball. Upward ball ends this Saturday and Y-ball started tonight. J is on a machine pitch team for 10 to 12 year olds. We have a good team in the making. We also have three very involved dads coaching. J will need that this summer.

ZooDad called. Tomorrow is his birthday. He's getting ACU's and some cool Army stuff. M created a picture book for him. It is hysterical. It's called Army Dad and ZooDad has apparently been promoted to General. On one page, ZooDad is commanding an army (all in green) who have slain an entire enemy army (all in red.) Both armies are stick figures except for General ZooDad who is decked out in camo and a battle helmet, smiling over the carnage.
M has no issues with war at all. As long as no one is shooting at his Daddy.

Tomorrow is pretty much a repeat of today except with no baseball. The school therapist comes to the house, so I have to tidy up. Instead of baseball, I have a co-op organizational meeting.

SSDD here in the Zoo.

I guess they are motivated

All year, the boys have been...well...reluctant to do school stuff. Well, that's not right. They are happy to do the work, it just takes them a fair amount of time to do it. Some of it was dawdling. Some of it was ease of distraction.

Whatever it was, now it is over.

The boys are doing work that used to take them four hours....in about 2 and half hours.
Not only to they finish everything, but they start suggesting assignments that are normally done on other days.

Odd huh?

Another unusual thing to note is M's math. Normally, he pouts through his math, missing a few but getting most correct, with his normal terrible handwriting. (He has motor skill issues.)
That is until I started assigning just the odd numbered with the treat of doing all the problems if he got one wrong.
Guess how many problems he's missed since the new way assigning math. Guess. Yep...none. Perfect score.
And his handwriting is no nice and neat too.

Today he even voluntarily read a book. For M...that is massive news.
For J, not so much. He's finished both Ginger Pye and a Time Warp Trio book since Sunday night. That boy goes through books like water.
J has also been extraordinarily motivated. He did a week's worth of geography today because he'd "just have to do it eventually and might as well do it all today."
Not only that...he did an extra lesson in English because...get this..."diagramming sentences is kind of fun."

If it weren't for their continued forgetfulness to unload and load the dishwasher, I would swear they had been replaced by podpeople kids.

Mild Support, Moderate Support, Full Panel Very Firm Support

I wish being a wife was as easy as picking out pantyhose.

The being a supporting wife is tougher than it seems. Last night I told ZooDad to just be truthful when filling out his medical stuff. I then informed him that there were three kinds of truthful, Unbiased truth, positive spin truth, and whinny truth and told him to pick which truth would help him achieve his end goal. (Whatever that might be.)

Well, that's positive spin truth.
I do know what his end goal is. He wants back in. He doesn't want to be rejected. So I'm here trying to be supportive and unbiased. I'm trying to be encouraging and not freaking out at the fact that if ZooDad does get this goal that he will leave us for quite a bit of time.

I find myself being uber-wife and positive spinning everything in my head thinking..."My God WOMAN!!!! If he gets this, he's going to leave the freakin' country and spend two months in a "Camp Crystal Lake" in Mississippi." (How odd that I find the Mississippi camp as frightening as the Kuwait option. But I was less than impressed with the place I dropped him off at yesterday. The other camp can't be much of an improvement.)"How in the world could he do this to us. 12 months BOG! 12 months not even counting the time in SC and Mississippi. What the heck is he doing? Is this some midlife crisis!!"

But then the next moment, I am beaming with proud that he's back to being a soldier again. That we are back to that ridiculous life that is the military family. Look at my darling ZooDad. Isn't he so majestic in his ACU's. Who wouldn't be proud to be a an Army wife?

You see. Crazy like Sybil.

Some of it might be denial. Some of it is just blind patriotism. Most of it is just trying to support this man I married who above all else loves God and country.

I think I need the Full body, uber-firm support with steel rod inserts. Does Hanes have that option?

He's my Cosmo!

Cosmo: "I married the smart one."
Wanda: "I married the....Well, he is cute."

Not only are the kids funny but the Dad is too.

Yesterday, ZooDad called me on my way home:
ZD: It's Ceso Demile Day, Friday.
Me: What? (Seriously, what the heck.)
ZD: They are celebrating Ceso Demile on post Friday.
Me: (Incredulously) Cecil B Demile? They are celebrating Cecil B Demile on post?
ZD: Whatever? Anyway, that's why the fair rides are set up. Do you want to take the kids?

Now the gears in my brain are revving. What the heck does Cecil B Demile have to do with fair rides?
Lightbulb moment

Me: Do you mean Cinco de Mayo? That's Mexican Independence Day.
ZD: Whatever. Cinco de Mayo....uh...just whatever it is. That's why they have the stuff set up. Do you want to go or not?
Me: Sure but Cinco de Mayo isn't on Friday. It means 5th of May. That's not until next week.
ZD: They don't seem to have that information. The email says it is on Friday.
Me: Well that's just false advertising. Friday is Veintiocho de Abril.
ZD: That must be the day the Mexican army had a big fair.

It's a whole lot better than Cecil B. Demile day. I had to call my sister so we could laugh over this. I swear he's a brilliant computer person.

It's time for Lynard Skynard to write a new song

Or maybe they should just start playing the old one and just alter the lyrics a bit.

Well I heard mister young sing about her
Well, I heard ole neil put her down
Well, I hope neil young will remember
A southern man don't need him around anyhow


The entertainment people (which includes most of the MSM) are just so jolly over the idea of turning all this into "another Vietnam." They can barely contain their giddiness.
Of course since they created the last Vietnam, they already have the experience to make that happen.

Can you tell I spent the week watching DVR stuff from the Military Channel? The report of the Tet Offensive was particularly informative.

Grateful Dead Sea Scrolls

Yep, the sacred scrolls are touring the country.
Last weekend, Me and the rest of the Zoo went to Discovery Place in Charlotte and lo and behold...the scrolls were there. And there wasn't a bit of tie dye to been seen anywhere.***

Well not all the scrolls but there were a quite a few of them and a very nice display of other artifacts. Including some bona fide Sumerian seals. (For the rubber stampers, just think of them as ancient SU stamping wheels.)
ZooDad and I did the tour separately so we wouldn't have to pay $11 extra for each kid. It was a self guided tour with these little hand held digital players which were far too much for us uncivilized Southerners. I couldn't handle the narrators lack of discernible accent, so I just read the placards on everything.

ZooDad was a smartass as usual. Afterwards he told my sister that not only did we see the scrolls, but he also deciphered them. That's right. He said he saw the meaning in both Hebrew and English, illuminated in white light right there beside the scrolls. A Holy Vision.
When I explained to my sister that there were strips of cloth hanging from the ceiling by each scroll case and the writing on and translation of each scroll was projected onto the cloth...ZooDad replied, "You mean everyone saw that?"

Dy, you thought your man was a lightening rod. Mine is perfecting his own brand of blasphemy.

I didn't get any pictures of the scrolls. (It was forbidden.) But I did get some shots of the boys in the science halls.

Here's the whole gang in front of a brown bear. I didn't know they were that big. This particular stuffed guy caused about 30 minutes of "Brown, Brown Bear jokes." (I see a shellacked octopus looking at me.)
















Here's M using a double pulley to pull himself up. We spent an inordinate amount of time playing with these pulley things. The giant eye was also a big hit but it didn't photograph well. It was a really big eye.













More pulleys and Frick and Frack with their matching heads. People ask if they are twins. Yeah, it was a 32 month pregnancy.
Monster boy S is pulling the heck out of the fixed pulley. While A is taking it easy with the compound pulley.

We also got to see an IMAX movie. Journey down the Nile or something like that. It was wicked. The little guys kept pointed up, out, down...all over. They'd also cover their heads when the water splashed.

Charlotte is one of those hip urban areas where having 4 children borders in irresponsibility. The place was full of older people and professionals that came to see the scrolls. We got lots of Stair-step handmotions, (Those of you with 4 or more know what I'm talking about.) double takes, rubber necks and at least three "Are they all yours?"I always look around when someone asks me that. I assume I must have picked up a couple of strays. I did get one "You're my hero!" when I made A stop touching the seat in front of him and I got a whole bunch of hugs.
But I get those everyday.





***We didn't go to Carowinds. But ZooDad did pitch a high holy duck fit and call the cops on them for gross mismanagement and endangering the public. Then we went to Discovery Place.

What she's been doing Part 1: Da Wild, Da Crazy, Da Vinci

Apologies first. Sorry I just dropped off there. I've been a bit busy with all this "back in the Army" stuff. But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about what I've been reading while waiting in the endless lines. Wait, that's not right. I've actually been knitting in the ques also. In fact, I usually bring both the book and the knitting so I can be prepared. Long, take-a-number lines are for sock knitting. The wait-step-forward-wait-read lines are for the book.

I'm a total Type A personality. Down time annoys me.

So, I'm finally getting around to reading The Da Vinci Code. I'm only, what, two years behind the times on this.
I haven't gotten very far yet, I've had more knitting lines than reading lines. But I have read enough to wonder why anyone ever thought this stuff could possible be "real." I actually said to ZooDad at one point, "Holy Moley...who in the world would be so hare-brained to think this is plausible."
If you haven't read it, the first few chapters are pretty. far. Fetched. You can't even view it as an attack on the Catholic Church because it is so "Out There Flapping."

Then I caught an interview with the slick, camera friendly, Opus Dei spokesperson that admitted that some members actually did do the whole self flagellation thing as a method of purification.

um......huh? Wha? Whoa.

Hmmmmmm...... I thought that part had to surely be made up.
And they also trotted out a non-albino Simon. ("Yeah, some of us beat ourselves but the albino guy part is totally wrong. Our Silas is black.)

Now, I'm a fairly tolerant person. I really don't care about who and how you worship or who you sleep with or what you do. I don't mind what individuals do in the privacy of their own homes, I just don't see the need for the rest of the population to be forced to accept un-natural things as normal. Or to bend over backwards to accommodate your chosen needs.
Tolerance doesn't mean that I accept and respect your beliefs. It just means that I don't stop you from doing them if they don't involve me watching or joining in.

But I draw the line at any religion or sect that preaches the literal beating the hell out of a person. I'm sorry, but I don't care what you call your God...if you require a person or a child to be physically harmed in order to remove sin or guilt...you are way off base in my book.

Now, I'm not talking about the individual following the "spare the rod, spoil the child" verse. I myself will swat a child to reinforce a idea, like Do not run out into that parking lot again young man. But there is a difference between the parent deciding to spank and a religious leader saying that you have to wail on your kids (or yourself) in order to make sure your children (or self) is pure of sin and can enter Heaven. (Nirvana, spiritual oneness)
That's just wrong. It's an abuse of power.

The self punishment is especially wacko to me.
So some Opus Dei whack themselves with a rope cat-o-nines and wear that ring thing with hooks on it. Some Muslims in Iraq have that parade where they whip themselves to bloody as they march along the street. (Kind of makes you understand why Hussein banned that particular holy march.)
I can't even respond properly to the thought. It's just wrong on a gazillion levels.
It's not something I can put my mind around.

But it does make me read with a little less skepticism.
I'm not going to see the movie though. I'm in this anti-hollywood frame of mind right now.
It goes back to that "do what you want to do but don't be mad when I don't accept what you have to say" thing from above. Plus Tom Hank's hair in the previews is skeeving me out.

Update on the van

Our insurance guy came by to assess. The guy's insurance didn't know about the accident until ZooDad called them just a few minutes ago. (This is deja vu.)

Anyway, Our insurance guy deemed the van unsafe to drive. The rear door is unlatched and won't lock. So if I was hit again, the van could not absorb the additional blow or the rear door cold fly open endangering the children back there.

It was towed to the repair shop and now I start gathering police reports and arranging for a rental.

We already have tickets to go to Carowinds on Friday.

I need my van!

CRASH!!!!!!

I got rear-ended.

I stopped fast at a red light because I couldn't see that it was red. (West bound traffic with the sun right at light level.) When I stopped, I looked in my rear view mirror and watched the truck coming closer and closer, without slowing one bit. Then I saw the guy's expression when he finally realized that I was in front of him and not moving.
(I need a little "EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeekkkkkkk" smiley.)

I took my foot of the break and turned my wheel to keep him from knocking my into the intersection.

boom

Scared the boys to death. The driver was scared to death too once he saw that there were lots of little kids in the car. He was such a sweet guy.
The 911 operator was idiot. Way too many irrelevant questions.
The police officer was great too and we all made jokes about hammering the dent out and using a little Bond-O and spray paint to fix it up.
The other guy's car was barely hurt. His bumper just rode over mine and into my trunk. He did lose his front tag...somewhere.

As for us, it wasn't bad as wrecks could go. The guy was traveling 35 MPH and I was sitting at a stop. It could have been worse...as I have pointed out to ZooDad who feels the fates have bestowed us while an unreasonable amount of misfortune.

No one was hurt.
The van still drives.
The lights still work.
The read door stays closed, though it won't open.
The window didn't break.
The guy is insured.
Only the rear door and bumper was damaged.


All that dirt is where my read deck cover was. That part is supposed to be covered by my rear door. The black foam stuff is actually the inside part of my van trunk. The paint cracked all the way down to bare metal.
A police officer friend said that I did exactly what I should have done and the van did just what it was designed to do.
That's a blessing.
My windshield wiper still works too. So do the interior trunk lights.
Weird huh?


Oh...and I finished some socks and our foyer tile. For a peek at both, click on the link to my knitting blog over there on the right.

I've been putting this off

Because seeing it in print makes it looks so much more real.
Here's my news.

On April 30th, I will once again be an Army wife.
My sweet husband has been involuntary activated from the Individual Ready Reserves (IRR) and most likely will deploy to Iraq.

We've been out of the Army for 7 years and ZooDad is 40% disabled, so this was quite a surprise for us.
His deployment is for 18 months with an option for extension up to two years.

My family is running out of men and we didn't have that many to begin with. My nephew is already in Iraq as a contractor. My niece's husband reports for deployment in early June.

Nine children whose fathers are away from home fighting.
Three wives worrying about their husbands.
One family who has had solders/sailors/and airmen in every war this country has ever fought in.

No one can say we aren't dedicated.

Running Commentary and an Active Imagination

Do any of you have that type of child?

The type that has creative make-believe play with a running commentary through out the whole scenario.

I've had 2 of them.
J, our oldest is now 10. But when he was smaller, we loved to play with toy figures, Winnie the Pooh characters mostly. He would spend hours in his own tiny little world carrying on conversations between the brightly-colored plastic critters. He never needed a playset for his creativity. The arm of the couch could easily be a mountain ridge. A pile of pillows was a cave to be explored.
I don't remember when he stopped doing this. I guess it was about the same time that his younger brother got old enough to play with.

S is almost 3 now. He has that same sense of creative play. Since he's the baby, he gets left out of the "big boys" play. It doesn't bother him. All he needs are some of those miniature Rescue Heros and he's away in his own little world.

Usually that little world is located right beside the chair I am sitting in.
While I'm typing, surfing, knitting or reading...he's acting out a multi-character play in several scenes. More often than not these plays involve shooting bad guys and blowing up space ships.

I try not to laugh as I'm taking in these litle scenes. I don't want to interfere with his intimate play. I also don't want to risk running him off to some other location. I like being part of his sound stage, his scenery for his imagination. It gives me insights on the values he has picked up and the way his little growing brain is shaping up.

"We'll make it work!" said the pilot of the one man space ship to the alien he was trying to rescue but had no room for. "I won't leave you behind. You're my friend."

He'll be a good man someday.

In which the poor girl's head explodes

Well, almost.

Last night, while sitting at the kitchen table, I looked up.
Then I immediately yelled for ZooDad.

ZooDad came running like the wonderful and concerned husband that he is to find me looking at the ceiling.
"(Gasp) How long has that been there?"
"I don't know. I'm short. I never look up. How long do you think?"
"I don't know. I'm tall. I never look up. The real question is where did it come from?"

Well the "it" wasn't a bug or some alien species that had chosen to take residence on our kitchen ceiling. (Unlike the snail that really does live on our stairwell ceiling.

It was worse. far, far worse.
Aliens or bugs would have been good news.
Much better news than......dum, dum, DUM...A waterspot.

Yep, a brown, wet, and growing water spot.

Near as we can tell, and we have no contractor or plumbing experience, the spot must be coming from the overflow pipe in the upstairs bathtub.
I sure hope so anyway because that part can be accessed through the drywall in A and S's closet.

I was supposed to call the plumber today but I forgot. Instead I hung out at my Mom's after my ophthalmology appointment and knitted all day. (The eyes are fine. No eye lasering needed. I go back next year to check again.)

So tomorrow, I call the plumber.
In the mean time, I'm checking all the ceilings.

ARRRGGGGGG!!!!

That's the sound of me pulling my hair out.

I was trying to do the 3 needle bind off on my second sideways sock and I totally mucked it up. Well, I mucked up the third stitch.

Now, I start the great debate. Do I pull it out and start over? OR do I take it to the LYS on Saturday between baseball games and beg the sock class teacher to help me fix my colossal mistake?
And if I wait until Saturday, should I start a new project or go ahead and pick up the stitches for my first sock's gusset. (I had wanted to knit both feet at the same time to make sure they were even.

I an a stinky knitter. This is so discouraging.

Hmmm, I do have some nice lime and white yarn for another set of sideways socks....

Funnier than cable TV

Me and 4 year old A in the kitchen.

A: Mom, when you a little girl, what you costume on Halloween?

S: What were my costumes? Let's see. I was a witch once and black cat. I was Princess Leia too.

A: What about Darth Vader?

S: Well, I'm a girl. You have to be a boy to be Darth Vader.

A: You have to be a maaaaaan to be Darth Vader.

S: Nuh-uh. You were Darth Vader last year and you're not a man.

A: Well, I do poop in the potty.

Sadly for some "men" in society. It takes more than pooping in the potty to make you a man.

Check that box

One less thing to worry about thanks to BJU.

I am the Achievement test coordinator for our homeschool support group. It's not a bad gig. I just have to collect orders, round up test administrators, run the whole dog and pony show, and do some private testing and...oh...order $2500 worth of tests in one pop.

Then I sit back and worry until they get arrive. I'm always scared that they won't get here in time for the scheduled test date.

Well, now I don't have to worry. I placed the order Friday night and this afternoon a nice box of tests arrived on my front porch.

I can just sit back and wait until the end of April.

Thank you BJU.

I ain't dead.

Nope, I'm still around. Sitting on my fingers. Waiting for the 31st to arrive when I can spill the beans pretty openly. Though in real life, I'm already spilling the beans. Oh well. I have to get things done and I can't wait for the 31st to get this party planned.

I'm knitting and planning school stuff for next year. And it's baseball season. So that is keeping me fairly busy.

I'm trying not to cry every few hours. As long as I don't think about "it" in great detail, I'm ok. But the minute I start thinking about how this will affect us, especially the boys, I get all upset.

I keep praying for God to make me open to his plan and to remind me that his is there when I forget.
I'm trying to not be bitter.
I'm trying to keep ZooDad from getting bitter.
I'm also trying to project an air of confidence and competence. I don't need ZooDad worrying any more than he already is.
He needs to know that his wife and family is not going to fall apart.

It's not fun though.
Denial helps. ;)
ZooDad and I have developed a code. "It ain't just a river in Egypt." means, "I'm handling it, just barely..but only because I'm not thinking about it in full detail."

The full details are just too hard to think about.

Great day in the morning!

Sasquatch Jr. is alive and well and living at the Zoo.

That's right. He lives right here. Apparently, I birthed him.
My oldest boy-child. The one who is just 2 months past his very first decade. The one who is 5 foot 1 inch and weighs 107 pounds. That boy went to get a new pair of shoes today.

I had thought that he old size 7.5's were looking a little tight and filthy. They were quite filthy and they were even tighter.

My 10 year old has a new pair of Nike's sized 9 and a half. That's right 2 full sizes larger. The guy was going to suggest getting a 10 but they slipped a little on the giant feet. I felt like such a bad mom. Geesh, no wonder he was blowing holes in the sides of them.

Salesguy said, "When that boy is 14, you'll be buying shoes off the internet."

He didn't get it from my side of the family. My little elf dad wore a size 7.

Still making phone calls

I think I have spoken to half the free world in the past three days.

I'm still trying to get stuff squared away. We're digging through old files and boxes. My ancient vocabulary has risen from some dark, and dusty corner of my mild. I find myself a little shocked when the old acronyms and vernacular spill from my mouth like I've been speaking them for years.

It's amazing how it all comes back to you.
Kind of scary too.
I got my first shock on caller ID yesterday. I did a double take until I realized that it really was who it said it was.

(sigh)

Some of you know. Some of you might guess. But I have to wait to post it here until everyone has been notified. Until then just pray that we, and our family, will accept what we've been given.
As I told MIL last night, "No change at all would be better but that's not an option. Now I just have to get all I can out of what we are getting."

My plain, old, normal,life is not an option anymore. I either accept it and ride the wave or fight it and get crashed against the rocks.

Because I am in denial and have done a bunch of calls this morning..

I'm doing the meme that Jacqui tagged me with

Six Little known/weird things about me.

1. I have had my rabies shots. I was years old when I little furry dog crossed the street and bit me on the leg. The owners were out of town and the dog's careperson could not be found. The dog went off for testing and I got shots in the tummy.

2. I was once allergic to chocolate. Same age, I sat down and ate a one pound bag of M&M's in about an hour. (To keep my brother from eating them) It resulted in an impaction, a stomach pumping, and a sensitivty to chocolate that lasted for years. I could only eat white chocolate (not really chocolate) that you only found at Easter. I was so happy to see those little white bunnies every year.

3. Although I will touch/hold all manner of 4 legged, 2 legged, and no legged animals. I am totally skeeved out by anything with more than 4 legs.
Irrationally skeeved out about them. As in I won't step on the critter because I can't handle the crunch. And don't get me started on grubs. I have had grub nightmares thanks to some very old firewood.

4. I am afraid of heights. Open heights in particular. I created quite a scene at Grandfather mountain, Home of the tallest suspension bridge. Not only would I not cross it, but I stood at the entrance panicking because Zoodad had taken my children across.

5. I have extra teeth. Freaky. The women in my family tend to do this. I lost a set of molars twice.

6. Every dog or cat I have had in my entire life (10 total) has been an abandoned animal. They have all been found or rescued. Two cats were rescued by others. The other 7 animals were found by my family.
Our perpetual puppy was found on our wedding night. He had Parvo and we postponed out honeymoon by 2 days until we could get vet care.

So what about you?
I'm not going to tag anyone but you're welcome to tell me your little known oddities here or on your own blog.

Not-so-good-stuff at the Zoo

I'll have to be cryptic. But we got some pretty bad news here at the zoo this weekend.

I won't be posting much for the next few weeks until we get all our ducks in a row.

We in shock and denial but trying to prepare while hoping that it's just a false alarm. (I think that's the denial part.)

I'll post the whole deal once we notify all the people who need to know first.

I can't even make a prayer request yet. Except maybe for strength, peace, and us to open to whatever God has planned for us.

I would blog but the zoo has been boring.

Seriously boring.
Nothing at all of interest or even funny.
MIL had a stint in the hospital. Same issue as the previous times, same battery of test. They still can't find the problem.
She spent the night and then we took her back to the farm on Wednesday. That gave the boys a chance to chase goats, fed the pony, and blow dandylions. (or as J did by accident, inhale them.)
Thursday, my mom and great-nephew came over for a visit while I began my yearly "Oh heck, what program do we want to use next year. I'm throwing it all out and buying Abeka" planning.

Today we did school stuff and I pulled weeds.
Big fun here at the zoo.

I also made a about a dozen phone calls about A's medicaid status and the ITBS testing that I'm coordinating.

And I'm wearing my old glasses. Everyday. All day.
My new glasses haven't come in yet. I'm kind of bummed about that but it's good in a way. It's gives me a chance to get used to wearing them before I get the stronger lens.
My ophthalmologist appointment is April 3rd. My sister has to accompany me (That's her job. She's always the designated driver.) because my eyes will "dilated like crazy and monitored in case my pupils lock."
Joy.

Well I fear I've made enemies with the new family.

I put up a sign to handle the constant visits.

The little guy was coming down to play at 12:30 on a school day. That's just a bit too early.
So I put up a sign so he would know when play time was and when we were still doing school or family stuff.
That's been working out fine.

But today I yelled.

We have two dogs. One, Stamper, is our "baby." We found him in the road, on our wedding night. He had parvo virus and was slowly dying. He lacks any normal dog sense and lives in perpetual puppy-dom. He's and part chow. But he has also inherited a shepherd's hip displasia. One hip was operated on and the ball was removed from his femur. The other hip is only 20% in socket but we couldn't put him through a second surgery. He's also an old dog. He'll be 12 this year and he's getting arthritis.

So when I saw a 7-year-old boy sitting on him like he was a little pony, I lost it.
I sent the little friend home and the older boys had to go upstairs to clean their room. They should have had the sense and the fortitude to tell their friend not to sit on their old pet.
(When I told ZooDad of the incident, he asked, "And what was Stamper doing? He was just taking it, wasn't he. He'll be limping tomorrow."
Yeah, the sweet, dumb boy was just taking it. He would never dream of complaining.)

As a precaution, I warned all the boys in the yard against sitting on the cat, hamster, and fish. It was a "Don't eat the daisies" moment.

I'll have to damage control, I'm sure.
But if you ever come over to play, please don't let the kid sit on my poor dogs.

Oh WOW, oh wow, oh wow, wow, wow, wow!

My college roomie is coming to visit next week.
This is my ultra funny roommate who tolerated my college antics for 2 years.
We haven't seen each other in more than 10 years. He parents live about an hour from me and she is coming for a family event and then driving to visit me and all my men.
She's going to be a hit with the boys. She works on the Cassini project for JPL (the Mars Rover people.) And rehabs seal and sea lions in her spare time. She plays a mean flute too. Cool huh?

Now I just have to get the house all ready for guests and get psyched up for the visit.
Oh my gosh! I am so excited.

So I can't see

I'm far sighted. I knew that. I have an astigmatism. I knew that too. But apparently, I've been cheating my eyes for so long that I am losing my far vision also. Or so my eye doc says. I've got new glasses on order, but they aren't the strength I really need. My eyes can't handle the correction I need so this in the middle ground for the next year or so.

Oh, and I am at risk for developing acute angle glaucoma. So I can't do a full dilation and have to see a ophthalmologist to see if he wants to do a pre-emptive iridectomy. My mom also has this. She's also had iridectomies on both eyes. Usually, if you are prone to this eye problem, it develops as you get older. It's a fast acting glaucoma and you can lose all eyesight in 24-72 hours if the pressure gets bad.

But my iris already has a low angle and last week I was having eye "headaches" bad enough to make me feel nauseous.

Joy.

But I have cute new glasses on order.
****It's not a state of denial. Some people are worriers. I prefer making a plan. As long as I have a plan and know what is going to happen, I'm all good. I'm in the "do what you can and then don't worry" camp of people. Plus stress increases eye pressure.

I'll give him a week.

Then we'll have to start setting some limits.

We have a new little boy in the neighborhood. He can see our driveway and front yard from his yard. He's also an only child so my 4 boys are like his first trip to a candy store.

Oh and he's homeschooled too.

Yeah.

He's been over every day since Saturday. Some days, twice. I'm assuming he gets finished with his work a lot quicker than my brood does, because he's come over right at 2:00 once.
The boys like playing with him though. It's just that we have a very busy life. Monday we have baseball from 4:45 to 7:30. Tuesdays are speech at 10 and 11 and then scouts from 2:30 to 4:30. Wednesdays we go to OT and leave the house at 12:15 and don't get back until 3. Thursdays, is OT at our house for an hour and then more speech Monday morning.
That's not even counting our support group activities and field trips, visits to my mom's, and school. We're not just homeschoolers. We are van-schoolers, waiting room-schoolers, mom's house schoolers, and sitting on the grass outside the public school-schoolers. We're flexible but I do like a little privacy.

I haven't met mom yet.

Update: Two balls hit over the fence into the brambles of the woods today. One lost yesterday. I can't afford to buy 3 baseballs each week.

Remind again why homeschooling is a bad thing?

This is long so draw up a chair.
Yesterday, we had one of those unfortunate encounters while A and M were at therapy.

Yep, some well intentioned fellow therapy-getter asked, "Why aren't you boys in school today?' For one brief moment I thought the following diatribe: "Excuse me. Do you see me... the mother of these children, sitting here? If you have any questions about my children, you should direct them to me only. I have taught my children about the dangers of strangers and YOU, being well aware of all the things going on in the world, should know better than to try to undermine my parental authority by tempting them into conversation with a stranger. And while we are on that point, why should I and my children have to answer questions about our private business. I would never dream of asking you why you weren't at work today. I would assume that you were a responsible adult and capable of making decisions for you own and your families wellbeing."

I'm a fast thinker.

But I didn't say any of that. I just grinned because my 10 year old, who was very busy doing his math work when the person interrupted him, answered..."I am at school. I'm homechooled."

I knew immediately from the pursed lips of the stranger that this was the worst answer my son could possibly give. Thankfully, my son had a question about multiplying multi-digit numbers with decimals and the explanation lasted until the annoyed person was called back to therapy.

Yes, I know that many people have problems with homeschooling.
My children will be sheltered.
My children will not learn what they need to know.
I can't teach them what they need to know.
My children won't learn how to deal with bullies.
My children will miss out of school friends.
My children will be socially awkward.

Homeschooling is not at all what some people think it is.

It's impossible to shelter children these days. And I really don't try. They watch the news so they have some idea of atrocities that occur around the world. They listen to mainstream music, though I do seek out music without profanity and overt sexual references. But I don't protect them any more than a parent should protect a child.

They aren't missing anything academically. Well, I take that back. My children are unversed in most of the political correctness and dumbed down curriculum that is rampant in our school system. My 10 year old has read MLK Jr's "I have a dream speech" instead of being fed bits and pieces of it by teachers who may not have read the whole thing themselves. (I'm still reeling from the "I have a dream that you will learn your math facts." poster that is still on the wall of the school. I just find it so offensive.)
We have this wonderful opportunity as homeschoolers. I get to teach to mastery. That means, if my kids don't learn it...we don't move on until they do. No child gets left behind at our house. There are no cracks to fall through. They get individualized private instruction in all areas with programs tailored to meet their needs.

And I think I can teach them what they need to know. Let's just pretend that I didn't have degree in Biology and a minor in Organic Chemistry with all the math classes that a science degree calls for. Let's also pretend that I don't have any experience in teaching children ages 5 through 16. School was not that hard. I mean really. not. that. hard. I managed to graduate from high school with what I would have to assume was enough high school knowledge to make it in the world. If I did not have enough high school knowledge...I shouldn't have that lovely blue and orange diploma. I should know enough to impart that hard won wisdom upon the shining faces of my numerous offsrping.
Ok, ok, ok...assume I didn't learn enough. We have access to libraries, internet, magazines, and other educated people. If my children can't figure it out and I can't figure it out, I think we can manage to find someone who can.

My children do learn how to deal with bullies and pushy people. We get lots of experience in dealing with them in the waiting rooms, grocery stores, and other public spaces. But they don't learn how to deal with these annoying people by watching other children (who don't know how to deal with bullies either.) My children get to watch how I and my husband handle these people who have overstepped their boundaries. They see us stand up for what we feel is right. They see us hold our tongue when pushed and apologize when we loose our composure. They get to see the ways to respond before they are put into the situation. They never have to fend for themselves.

As for the rest...the socialization problem...it's not a problem. My kids have friends. In fact, they keep too busy sometimes.
Right now my "unsocialized and awkward" children are in the front yard playing with 2 friends in the neighborhood. Currently, there are 6 boys and two girls who just stopped by to join the game of basketball. Everyone is playing wonderfully even though my children are ages 10 through 2. The brothers are looking out for each other and their friends are OK with that. Sometimes they even bring their siblings along too. In our yard no one is allowed to exclude. You play with everyone or you go home.

So I have 4 boys who have great friends, some of which live in the house with them. They have sports and scouts to round out their experiences. They have an education that meets their individual needs. They get to learn how to handle the ills of society by observing from a safe distance and modeling behavior. They get to spend time with family on our own schedule instead of one dictated by the state.
And none of them has a desire to wear designer clothes.

And homeschooling is a bad thing?

I'm done.

I have suceeeded on my goal.

I am done with the massive hat. I have reached my Olympic goal.
UPDATE**
Pictures are now on my knitting blog. The link is on the right, if you want to take a peek.