Life is good when you’re a free spirit. Until someone invites you into the box.

The concept of going to the principal is daunting for anyone.

Well, maybe not anyone. I remember friends in school (way back when) who enjoyed talking with the principal in their office, and were on good terms with them. All buddy-buddy with school officials.

I, on the other hand, did everything in my meager power to stay out of their overreaching eyesight. Anyone want to run Student Council? Nope, not me. Hall Monitors?  Non, my freund. Break the rules and get in trouble? Nein, frauline!

My entire purpose in school was school. I wasn’t in Drama club, I wasn’t involved with Art class, I was kinda on the swim team for a year but I also wasn’t in a rush…so that was just a thing. I just wanted to get in, and get out, and move on with life. That’s about it.

Life is organic, man.

You just gotta go with it, and let it go with you, and life can be super chill if you let it.

Life can be amazing, if you notice the little flags of opportunity surrounding you.

That’s my philosophy on the matter.

This is why homeschooling is the best opportunity I ever took up. I really thought I was going to go into teaching after college; and I did, in the beginning. There were state tests to get credentialed that I passed with no problem. I took advantage of the substitute teaching opportunities to get experience in different environments, and I loved that season.

I just love teaching. I love the passing of information, and discovering new ideas with people all over. You want a good time discussing the similarities and differences of philosophies, successes and losses between the French, Russian and American Revolutions? I am so your gal. I am all over that conversation.

Homeschooling has raised the bar of my teaching career by leagues: when you are teaching your own kids, the stakes are high. These aren’t students who have a future ahead of them that doesn’t involve you. Your classroom is your blood. Your sweat. Your soul.

This all being said, when I saw an opportunity to get involved with a public school homeschooling program, I was ecstatic! What could this mean?? Something new, blended with something old school…who came up with this idea? This is crazy exciting!

So I signed us up, and we have been loving ever second of it.

Well, until today.

Today, my worst fear called me on the phone. My phone. In my house. And this worst fear spoke the words I have desperately tried to avoid throughout my entire life:

“The Principal wants to have a meeting with you at 2.”

*insert hyperventilating here*

I am sure it has something to do with the testing that I haven’t Opted-Out of, because I would like to be a team player…and tests won’t kill anybody. It doesn’t identify my kids, and I am not intimidated by them. Testing days? That’s cool. No biggie on our end.

However, I know that since we are moving on a different streamline than public schools, and I am not drilling the kids on how to take tests properly or what is on the tests, there are going to be academic discrepencies.

Still, nothing I’m worried about.

I am not worried about my kids’ academic performaces because I take our schooling very seriously, and very personally. It is my goal and purpose to teach my kids to a high standard, and to make sure they are proficient in their grade levels; according to state guidelines.

So, when I showed up to the principal’s office this afternoon, I had a binder filled with work samples, state guidelines, standardized tests my kids have finished, reading samples, charts, printouts and a video of my son reading fluently.

Listen. I don’t know what this meeting was going to be about, but damned if I am not coming in fully stocked and prepared to own this meeting with everything I got.

It’s funny when public school and homeschool circles meet. There is a virtual Venn Diagram in the room, where we meet in the middle with shared love of our profession and genuine concern for the kids’ well being.

I know it feels a little intimidating talking with professional homeschoolers, since we’re all free spirits. A little wily, a little rambunctious, maybe a little opinionated. We have the authority to pull the plug on this program whenever we want, which also means it is in everyone’s best interest to remember what we all learned way back in school:

Be a Good Listener.

And that’s what I did. I listened to what they had to say first, and was able to pull out my handouts, worksheets, and tests and ask where the discrepancies were, and, most importantly, what did they have in mind to fill in the gaps?

Turns out, they just wanted to have a reading group for a few weeks.

Who is fine with a reading group? This Girl Is.

The only thing I was worried about was whether or not she needed help with the class, since she would be fielding such a range of grades in one hour. I don’t mind helping in the classroom before school to make sure the kids are great readers! Are you kidding?? This is my zone.

And that was when she realized we were on the same side.

It’s funny how life, being the organic being that it is, can sometimes float us into uncharted currents that take us way outside our familiar comfort zones.

But the best thing to do is to hoist the sails and own that current.

Fears can’t keep us back. We got things to do.

I am up to my ears in teaching and making sure the kids are up to speed with standards, which they are. It is helpful that the standards tests are available online and I can print them out for diagnostic checks.

But there is a standards evaluation person in school who wants to have a meeting with me and the principal tomorrow to discuss how my 6 year old is doing, because she wants him to be in an intervention class.

1. I’m not homeschooling to have meetings with the principal (even though he’s a really nice guy).
2. My 6 year old is a pretty stellar reader. So I don’t know why he got red-flagged for needing an intervention class.  This is him reading a Common Core, 1st grade level reading lesson.

https://vimeo.com/154940490

I am very proud of him, and he is a very cheerful and fluent reader. I am pleased with not only his fluency, but also his ability to break apart big words into phonetics in order to sound it out.

So, I’ll have a meeting tomorrow to just review how great he’s doing, I guess.

Anyway, I actually have a TON of posts that are just WAITING to be posted…a ton. And I miss writing, desperately…

But I need some spare time to do it. And right now, that’s a rare commodity.

School comes first.

If you think we’re taking time off just because Mom has a head cold, you don’t know how we work.

I swear, this month has just had me by the tail.

First I had a monster hormonal avalanche.  Thankfully, although that didn’t send me into the river Styx of mood swings (I would like to think I am far too logical for that. No, you cannot ask Ben to verify this.), it did give me a false positive for a pregnancy test. Then after that whole mess, my head and chest bailed on me and invited some nefarious bug to AirBnB for a while. And I am running out of Motrin to take care of the headaches/stuffiness/cough/oh yeah, and I’m not pregnant so I have that going too.

So. NOW I’m moody.

Well, I don’t know about moody, exactly, I’m just physically worn out. The headaches, the coughing, the body aches, etc., etc., etc. Definitely crabby.

And I lost my voice, so I have this little Pomeranian whimper of a sound.

This totally fits my personality. Tired. Sore. No voice. Still busy.

     I’m cheering myself on with the whole stick and carrot.

But we’re homeschooling, and that ship never stops. And I have a newsletter to finish, and my brain dump in my moleskin yesterday yielded 35 items I am mentally juggling, some of which include taking the presidency of our PTO which naturally yielded a whole list of ideas for that…

So now what, hotshot?

I’ll tell you what: we’re doing it anyway!

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I will say that one of the dumbest things I have ever heard in regards to cold-management is “You don’t call in, you crawl in.“

If you are down for the count, and you keep going in to work/school/anywhere…thanks for getting everyone else sick, buddy! We also love to hear you hack up a lung and look like death rolled over. It makes everyone else’s day so much better because you showed up. (Don’t show up)

However, at this point I am at the tail end of all this nonsense and I have just enough energy to be, while not absolutely fabulous, definitely mildly fabulous.

So, that is how I am starting off February.

Stop me if you’ve heard this before.

There was a woman who gave birth to children.

And she raised them, had her own identity and her own life, and lived a very happy life with very happy kids.

Shocking. I know.

Goodness gracious, it’s like that woman never existed according to some of the headlines these days!

             “Something you’ll never need again: nice clothes. 

Because, let’s face it, you will never go out again.

-Some Parenting Blog”

Seriously?

We’re just throwing in the towel once we have kids?

Really?

Listen up ladies. I know there are some “Edgy” parenting blogs out there. I know some of them are the support we need when the day becomes 36 hours long and the laundry never ends, and you are out of peanut butter and the only thing your 2 year old will eat is peanut butter…

But these parenting blogs don’t run your life. They don’t define who you are. They aren’t you when you are wearing clothes straight out of the dryer, and they fit like crazy and you look around your clean house, your monthly meal planning calendar, your well educated children and more than satisfied husband and all you can think is,

“…Awwww yissssss.”

If you still kill it in your 4 inch heels, size 12 (see: size 14) Macy’s dress and you love green eyeshadow as much as I do…

then shag ’em.

Call up Care.com and get a sitter, and paint the town with yo’ man like a mo’fo in your nice clothes.

Because even though most of us are parents…

not all of us are willing to give up on life because of it.

Cheers, dahlins 😉

BlogHer Featured Post By Tamarah on January 27, 2015

The Snowpocalypse is upon our nation.

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Everyone is being warned to stay inside, do not leave your home, do not drive, bicycles have been outlawed and only outlaws will have bicycles.  Make sure you have food and water (and beer) stocked for a few days.  Dogs and cats living together…So many warnings…

Well, not on the West Coast, we aren’t.

Just remember, West Coast folks: you may have the burning desire to rub it in how good we have it over here, with our Fashionably Ripped Denim in December, our Jaunty Jackets in January,  Flip Flops in February.  Who cares??

We’re West Coast, baby.

…but this blizzard isn’t going to last forever, my friends, and soon their airports will be functioning again.  They will fly en masse to find us and beat the sunshine out of our smug, organic grins.

And they will steal our flip flops in spite.

So, do our East Coast bretheren a favor: be prepared for their utter, soul-crushing boredom while they wait the blizzard out in their barricaded homes.

These aren’t snowmen.  These are just the East Coast folks who tried to get their mail in the morning after the blizzard.

Hey now….

…we have seen these results before.

We have seen them 5 times before.

So, I can say, with a straight face, that although we weren’t terribly surprised to see them again, I can’t really say I was expecting it.

No, let me put it another way: my face fell on the floor and I was unable to form a coherent sentence for a good 10 minutes as Ben and I stared at this very positive, very clear word:

YES.

It comes as a surprise to us because Ben had things taken care of over 4 years ago, and we should be in the clear for the rest of our days…

Yes, yes, yes… I know there is some small fraction of a chance that things don’t always work out, and trust me, we, of all people, are acutely aware of that small fraction of a percentage. We have been tested, and been given the medical clear. So, according to medical data, and the past 4 years of no pregnancies, we kinda figured we were done.

And yet…there is a big fat YES on that pregnancy test.

What gives??

As my sister so eloquently put it: “Oh man. Tammy. You are literally the most fertile person on the planet.”

And I really can’t disagree with her.

Not with these results.

I’m not sure what you did on your Thursday evening, but here’s what happened in our house:

If you couldn’t have guessed, I have an intense reproductive system. It is reliable, durable, you can bend it, beat it, kick it, roll it, stretch it and stuff it. During pregnancy.

You can only imagine how it behaves the rest of the time.

This being euphemistically said, sometimes it is a little more intense than others.  Such as this month.

I have been having really serious PMS symptoms that have lasted for…most of the month. I have been on the brink of throwing up for a while, paralyzing back pain that feels like rows of glass needles ripping into my spine, headaches, food cravings…just normal period/ovulating stuff. Nothing I haven’t seen before, and all of which have been cleared as “normal and healthy” by many doctors.

So, I wasn’t phased by any of it.

Nevertheless, Ben comes home from work yesterday, and he said he “swung by Safeway on the way home to pick up a few things.”

He pulls out some ice cream, some fire starters for the fireplace…

and then he hands me a pregnancy test…

and he says, “…you’ve thought it too, right?”

WHAT?? NOO!! What on earth are you talking about, crazy man??

I laugh at the mere idea that I am pregnant and grab the box out of his hands and march triumphantly to the bathroom.

“Wait, you’re taking it now??”

“You’re darn right I’m taking it now. This is the silliest thing I’ve heard of.”

Little did I know that the long wait for the result, and that little blinking clock, was only the beginning of a more interesting night ahead for us: a big, fat, positive Yes.

What.

What does this mean. How is this even possible.

How could this be Yes??

After staring at the impending stick for perhaps an eternity, we started to softly form words.

“Well.”

“I guess we’re…”

“Yeah, it looks like it.”

We called the kids in because we wanted them to be part of this conversation. It is a surprise to us just as much as to them, and it would be best to be surprised together. We also wanted to make sure that they were okay with this news…

What has been the most encouraging is how positive all the kids were about this. Conrad is the MOST on board. He and Glenn want another brother pretty badly (most likely for Lego-engineering purposes), and they have already named their new brother Jonah. Nova wants another baby in the house, and Eve and Alice didn’t really understand what was going on. Eve spent most of the discussion crawling on Ben’s back, convinced that she might be a mother, too. (“We’ll talk about that part later, sweetie.”)

We talked about logistics, like having to buy a crib again. Baby clothes. Car seats. Strollers. Plus, we can fit all of us in the car right now, but if we had one more we couldn’t. Which means we would have to get a van…which is not happening we got a Mazda CX-9 for a reason because it does not have sliding doors and it is not a van. So there is the vehicle situation.

There were other things to consider, as well, such as age differences.  Nova would be a whopping 13 years older, so when she was in her mid-20s our youngest would just be entering Middle School. That’s quite a gap. Or when our youngest graduates high school, Ben and I would be grandparents already. Or when our youngest finally reaches adulthood and moves out, we will be in our mid-50s.

I also would spend all this year being pregnant, which has always been very painful and very large for me. I have never had life-threatening pregnancies, but I have had notoriously difficult pregnancies. From hives that last for 5-6 months, to nosebleeds, to migraines, to swollen ankles to the excruciating sciatica to  not being able to keep up with the kids while hobbling on my cane…it is an arduous journey I was quite finished with.

Plus the fact that I just changed this blog over to Five in the Forest, and now I’d have to come up with something that rhymes with six…!

So that’s what’s going on.  We are now ready for another baby in the house, and everyone is on board. We have discussed the emotional aspects and the logistical aspects, and …we are all pretty okay with this news.

…except I took the second test and it was negative.

WTH.

This could mean a few things:

a) The first test was positive, and the second test was too diluted to get a good reading. And I’m pregnant.

or b) The first test was a fluke and I peed on it too hard or something, and I’m not pregnant.

or c) I take another test in the morning with a fresh sample, and call it a day with the results from those.

Long story short, I took 2 different tests first thing this morning and they were both negative.

So, in the end, life goes on as normal.

Well, as normal as we know it.

What we have learned from this brief experience is that our family loves to love, and the more the better. Our kids were extremely enthusiastic about having another baby, and Ben and I were, while a little hesitant, very supportive of the initial news.  Plus, the rampant loving zeal and warm support we heard from all our friends and family (after the shock wore off), I have to say with vigorous joy that I am so happy to have all these beautiful people in my life.

And you can’t really beat that.

But Ben is taking me out to cocktails after this.

Cheers 😉

My friends, the world is awash with golden light and the hopes and dreams of cherubim cascade upon the dewy fields with great delight.

For, verily, my husband has found, and bought, the jacket from Sherlock.

It is crazy how similar this jacket is, because it is the jacket! Did you know the jacket was available anywhere else, besides the sitting room of apartment 221B?? Because I didn’t know this. I was not even aware there was a seamstress out there who found the thick, coarse, dark gray fabric to construct this creation. Nor had it come to my attention that this skilled seamstress would recover the valiant buttons that each weigh 1 oz a piece, or the lapel-aptitude to manufacture lapels with as much character and integrity as to compliment the striking cuffs which adorn my husband’s wrists.

And this wife…the wife of this amazingly gorgeous man…is the luckiest wife on earth.

Because there is Sherlock’s. Jacket.

On my husband.

/brb. swooning.

The nice thing about homeschooling is that I make the schedule.

Are we working until 5 because people have been messing around all day? Could be. Fortunately, this isn’t common…but it has been known to happen.

Do the kids know the traditional Summer Vacation is 3 months? Nope. 2 weeks of Summer Vacation, and then we go into a light Summer School quarter.

Do we find interesting and creative subjects to learn every day? Yes!

So, what do we do on a traditional Day Off? Well, I’m glad you asked!

Lots of Catch Up.

Catch up on reading. This book needs to be finished by Tuesday for a literature class, and we have 4 chapters left.

Catch up on some math with the kids.

A little raking outside…

And have some comfort food for the day…like homemade bread!  There really is nothing like homemade bread.  Have you ever tried it? You should totally try it. There is something very home-y about bread. The smells, the texture, the flavors…I personally believe it helps us focus on what we are doing during the day. Homemade bread is just a very special thing to bake for your family.

Even if you have Celiac, and can’t eat any of it…

• 5 1/2 c bread flour
• 1 cup of powdered milk
• 2 cups of lukewarm water
• 2 Tbsp sugar
• 1 Tbsp yeast
• 2 Tbsp Crisco Baking Stick
• 1 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 Tbsp Kosher salt
• 2 eggs

Steps to breadmaking:

First:  You want to get a bowl out and put the yeast in there with the sugar and 1 cup of lukewarm water.  The yeast actually eats the sugar and activates it a lot quicker, and that is awesome.  Trust me.  Let this sit for 5 minutes.

Second: Combine the flour, crisco, salt, olive oil and powdered milk in a bowl (preferably a Kitchen Aid) and start mixing slowly.  When the yeast is fully activated, slowly pour that in with the rest of the warm water (so 2 cups total) and keep mixing.  Mix until you get a nice ball of bread dough.  Feel free to add a tablespoon more of water if you think it’s too dry, but don’t go overboard.  You don’t want it to get too wet.

Third: Cover with a damp paper towel and let rise for 45 minutes….in the winter it might be too cold to get the bread to rise.  I put it in the oven at 125F and that does the trick.

Fourth: Punch the dough down and knead the bubbles out of it.    Either cover these or put them in the 125F oven for another 40 minutes.

Fifth:  (I don’t know if this is a kosher move, but I’m just being straight with you: this is what I do) Turn the oven up to 350F without opening the oven or touching the bread.  Bake for 30-35 minutes.

You now have homemade bread.

Enjoy your day off, my friends!

There are many reasons why marrying your high school sweetheart is awesome.

On one hand, every time someone asks, “So, how long have you guys been together?” I watch them crunch numbers in their head when I say, “21 years? 22 years? Something like that.”

I honestly don’t think about it very much, because it is just the norm over here. But I can totally see how it throws the bell curve of the conversation off a little bit. And, really, it changes the direction of conversation from, “Oh, you met at work!” to “omg that is adorable.” And I’m not really sure how to respond to that yet, other than, “Yep!”

Other things pop up in life that make me appreciate how finely woven Ben and I have become.

Such as last night at the pool.

We have a KILLER indoor pool nearby, and while I am one of the last people on earth to thoroughly enjoy slipping into a bathing suit outside of the confines of my house… I actually enjoy swimming here.

Because there are family nights at the pool.  So, while I am swimming with my kids and a hoard of pool noodles, I am amongst other parents with their kids and their beaver dam of pool noodles. It’s laid back, it’s at the end of the day so we’re all pretty chill, and everyone is looking for a lost shoe or trying to convince the kids to get out of the pool because family swim time is over.

We’re all in there together, and it’s nice 🙂

The awesome thing about this pool is that there are a bunch of fun features available. There is a frog slide for toddlers, which is always a huge hit. There is a little wading pool to the side for small kids to splash around in, and not get clobbered by bigger kids. There is a rope swing and a water slide that courses through the walls and down 2 stories, and was so much fun. And there is a high dive.

Which I just ignored, because…why wouldn’t I?

But, being the adventurers that we are, Ben got up on the high dive and jumped off. And a few of our older kids jumped off the high dive. And then they expected me to jump off the high dive.

Anyone remember that time I freaked out on a zipline? Anyone? Well I remember. Like it was yesterday.

I will say, I actually climbed up there…and as soon as I took one hand off the rail, and stared down into the water, and simply thought about jumping off the platform in the sky…my entire body said OH NO, YOU ARE NOT GOING, how about a nice spinning room, instead??

I have to admit that even after my entire family cheered me to jump, and even the elderly lifeguard was laughing and shouting helpful tips like, “Don’t look down! Look at the wall!” I still climbed back down the ladder. Because I really, really, don’t like jumping off things that are higher than my bed.

The thing is, after laughing at me for a few minutes, Ben kissed my forehead and said, “Not much has changed since you were 17.”

It is nice being loved by a person who knows everything about you. There are things in life that you will never have to explain to them. Like, you never have to explain why you hate cauliflower. Ever. They just understand from the get-go that you have texture issues with it, and it is as obvious to them as it is to you.  I don’t have to explain why I hate heights, or why I think planning an Arts & Crafts corner at a tech conference is a wickedly great idea (I’ll explain later), or why I desperately want a Pomeranian even though I am not a dog person.

At the end of the day, it’s nice to go home to the person who knows me better than anyone.

And that is so much more fun than jumping off a high dive.