Am I crazy???!!!

If you follow my blog, you know I've been considering the idea of homeschool. Well, I have to make a confession here: I used to think people who homeschooled their kids were a little....well, wierd. I figured they were either paranoid, or their kids were so heinous they had been kicked out of public school. (And I'm sure occasionally this holds true!) But once I started thinking about homeschooling my own kids, I realized that homeschooling is a lot more mainstream than most people think.

There are several families that are patients in our office who homeschool, and their kids are very well adjusted and "normal", for whatever that's worth. But I think a lot of people still associate negative feelings with homeschooling- like I used to do. For example, I recently told one of my husband's relatives that I was considering homeschool, and they looked at me as if I had confessed a sudden urge to join the Hare Krishnas.

Oh, well.

Today I went to my first homeschool group meeting. I figured the best way to meet other moms is to just jump in! I was a little nervous, because there were lots of families there and I didn't really know anyone, but I'm so glad I went! All the other moms were very friendly and encouraging. They are part of a co-op that meets on Fridays, with classes for different ages from preschool to high school.

So I'm going to continue doing some research online, and do some reading before I make my final decision.

Bake your cake (twice!) and eat it too!

I am woefully behind on my blog! So lets do a little catching up! This past Friday, April 17th, I had Bella's birthday party at our house. Which means I spent all day Thursday cleaning. I really don't know why, because none of the party guests gave my house the white glove test, and by the time they all left I had to do it all over again! Anyway, we had a really good time.

Bella wanted a Dora the Explorer party this year. Actually, she wanted a "Swiper party, with Dora and Boots!". So I made cupcakes with Dora toppers on them, and a small cake. The cake was an adventure. I took the last cupcakes out of the oven, popped the cake pans in, (two eight inch round cakes) and went about my business. When I checked the cakes a few minutes later, not much was going on. Apparently, out of habit, when I took the cupcakes out I had turned the oven off! I thought, "Maybe if I turn it on really quick, it'll be okay." It wasn't. Off I go to Wally World for another Pillsbury Funfetti cake mix!

It was after midnight by the time I got finished. I had planned on doing something a little more creative than just scrawling "Happy Birthday Bella!" on it, but by 11:30p.m. I was shooting for having a properly baked cake with frosting all over it.

For some reason Bella hates the Happy Birthday song.

This is her typical reaction:

Pinata madness in the playroom!

Opening her gifts.

The weather turned out to be beautiful, so after presents all the kids went outside and played in the yard for a little while. As soon as everyone left, I put Bella down for a nap- she was pooped!

Toyland, Toyland...

After this past Christmas, we looked around the house and realized it was starting to look like one of those homes they show on the Discovery Health channel, where hoarders live. It was like we were being buried alive in "stuff". By "stuff" I mostly mean toys. And more toys. We were spared the toy gifts with Abby (this year) due to the fact that she was three weeks old at Christmas and couldn't even hold her own head up, let alone appreciate a gift that came with "some assembly required" and "batteries not included". She got lots of clothes.

So we explored our options. We could a) get rid of all our worldy possessions and live on a commune. b) just flat out become hoarders...maybe we could get on t.v. or c) make more room!

Well, I didn't want to be on t.v. that bad, and people on communes probably have the heebie jeebies. (The technical name for that bacteria is actinobacillus actinomycetemcomitans). So we decided to make a playroom in the basement.

Luckily, we have a full basement. Even more luckily (more luckily? Can I say that?) it was income tax season, the season my husband longs for the most- after football season, that is. So our stars aligned, and we made a playroom! Here are some pics!


Here is the "before". Acutually this is the
"before" after Kenneth moved all the boxes that
we crammed in this corner.



Here is the room with framing and insulation...

And drywall. Ahh, there's nothing like drywall

dust in the morning...

The stairwell, painted and carpeted. The color

looks funny in this shot, it's acutally a toupe color.

And the carpet is Berber. I love it.

The finished product! I painted it "Twilight Mist".

As previously noted in my blog, I won't use a color

unless I like the color and the name. The small door

on the left is a large closet under the stairs.

I don't have a pic of the ceiling fan, but it's really cute. Each blade is a different

pastel color. Kudos to my hubby for picking it out all by himself.

The Difference of a Day

I'm so behind on my blog! Things have been so busy. The funny thing is, I should have more time to blog now. Theoretically.

Since Abbigail was born, I've really been wanting to spend more time with my girls. They grow so very quickly. And even though they are in excellent hands while I'm at work (Mon. and Tues. with Nana, Wed. and Thurs. with Aunt Beth) it grated on me that I only got three days with them, and other people got four. Shouldn't I have the majority?

So I did some financial figuring to see if I could cut back a day at work. I made lists and calculations. There are things I'm willing to give up if need be...trash pickup, yes. Eating out, yes. Cell phone, absolutely not. (We don't even have a land line!)

Once I decided it was possible, the next step was bringing it up at the next Board Meeting. (i.e. the dinner table). So after we had eaten, I blurted out, "We need to talk!" And the thing is, I hate it when people begin conversations that way! So I laid out "The Plan" for hubby, and he agreed we could make it work.

Then came the fun part. Asking The Boss. Now don't get me wrong, The Boss is a nice guy. He's always treated me excellently. As far as my nervous system is concerned, that does not matter one tiny bit. I still got the works: sweaty palms, dry mouth, stomach doing backflips. Anyway, I caught him alone in his office, ran in, and shut the door. At that point there was no turning back. You don't go in The Boss' office and shut the door to discuss the weather.

Before he could even ask, I said, "I'm not pregnant!". Because The Boss always assumes that's what you are coming to tell him. When you work with several women in childbearing age, it's actually a pretty common occurance so I understand where he's coming from.

"I'm not pregnant, and I'm not quitting (always his second assumption), but I want to ask if you'd consider letting me cut back and work three days a week. I need to spend more time with my girls."

If you say it fast enough, your synapses get a little behind and you can keep your voice from shaking because you are nervous.

The Boss pondered a moment. Then said, "That sounds reasonable. Let me discuss it with The Other Boss and I'll let you know by the end of the day."

Luckily, it didn't take that long. He came and found me in about ten minutes and said it was okay. It's a good thing I didn't have to wait till the end of the day, because I was doing that thing where you talk a lot because you're nervous. I was starting to annoy myself.

Anyway, I now work three days a week. I now have four days off. It's a beautiful thing. The balance of my life has shifted, and you'd be amazed at the difference that one day makes. That one day is reading more stories to Bella. That one day is more cuddling with Abbigail. That one day means for the majority of my week, I am a mother and not an employee.

Don't mistake me, I love my job. But I love my kids more.

Yesterday I got my first reduced paycheck. We have a four day work week, and I gave up a day, which is a quarter of my income. And I make pretty good money, so a quarter of it was nothing to sneeze at.

It was worth every penny.