Shiloh

We are currently studying West Virginia.

Official Slogan: Mountaineers are always free.

Unofficial Slogan: It's beautiful here, but it has ALWAYS been doggone hard to make a living.

At least, that's what I've gathered from all my reading, fiction and non-fiction, as I've been teaching the kids.

One of my favorite ways to teach geography is to pick a beautifully written book about it, one that captures the feel of the place, so that the atmosphere and history of the setting is firmly planted in their minds and then they can attach all the other more mundane facts to that deeply engraved sense of place. Well, that's what I'm hoping anyway.

So, we just finished reading Shiloh together. It's about an 11 year old boy who has to figure out how to keep the abused dog who adopts him. Kids and dogs, that'll get you every time.


Sure enough, as we reached the climax of the story, Mermaid Princess and Flash start yelling, "No! No!" at me when it seems a sure thing that Shiloh is going to have to go back to his lawful (and abusive) owner.

And in one of the most precious moments of my homeschooling journey so far, Flash picks up the blanket he's been snuggling under and throws it over the book, shouting, "No! If he has to give that dog back, I don't want you read any more at all!"

They were mightily relieved when our 11 year-old hero caught Judd Travers breaking the law.

Now that's a story that's going to stick! Especially since even JackJack walks around saying, "Dat's a bad guy. He's a bad guy like Judd Twaffers."

Two "Little Women"

It was a frustrating experience, first grade.

I remember about the third week in, I realized that we were going to spend the first quarter learning to blend sounds ("sp", "ch", "gr"... you get the idea). I had just finished reading my first Nancy Drew novel, was enjoying reading National Geographic magazine, and was beginning to read Little Women. I suddenly understood that it was going to be a very long and boring year.

About 5 months ago, I realized that Mermaid Princess was closing in on six, the same age I was in my first devouring of Little Women. It didn't seem possible 5 months ago that she would soon be ready and willing to read this book that meant so much to me. She was still chewing on Milly Molly Mandy and The Magic School Bus and showed no inclination to move on to heavier fare.

Monday, I was rooting around in my closet and found the stack of classics I have been saving. Little Women was among them, and I sat down to read it yet again (does this make the 14th or 15th time?) I still cannot bear that Jo chooses not to marry Lawrence - honestly, what is wrong with that girl?

MP had finished her library books (pretty much in one big feast), so this Tuesday, I presented her with Little Women. Wednesday morning, as I began to prepare lunch, a stricken little face entered the kitchen with the book held out in some sort of horror in front of her.

"Mommy, is Beth going to... going to... is Beth going to die?"

At the sight of my rueful face, hers crumpled. I turned off the burners, sat on the kitchen floor, gathered my sweet girl onto my lap and held her for 15 minutes as she wrapped her mind around this devastating development, weeping her grief out on my brown nubby sweater.

Later, I asked her what character she would like to be in Little Women if she could choose one to be like. We are so similar in personality, she and I, that I was dumbfounded when she thoughtfully stated that she would like to be Beth. I consider myself a Jo, although I'm sure my sister thinks of me as Amy, and others think of me more as Meg. But no one, NO ONE, would ever think me a Beth.

"Sunshine girl! Beth dies! Why do you want to be Beth?"

"Well, Mommy, even though she had the hardest life, she was the one who everyone trusted and the one who made everyone smile. And she got to Heaven sooner."

Now, sometimes when she answers this way, it's because she wants to give the "right" answer, to say the thing she thinks I want to hear. But this time, it was said with a gentle earnestness and without so much as a glance at my face to see my reaction... she meant it.

In all these years, I have never wanted to be Beth. I suddenly think I missed Mrs. Alcott's point. And I think that, in honor of my daughter, I will read Little Women for the 15th (16th?) time and this time I will be reading with both eyes keenly focused on the impact of sweet, gentle Beth.

Spring forth

I have changed the background here yet again. The bicycle was driving me crazy, and as Big E. kept pointing out, "You don't like bicycles. You really, REALLY don't like bicycles."

It's true. I have a Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes type relationship with bicycles. I've done things that could easily have resulted in death or dismemberment about 10 times in my life. Five of them involve bicycles. My sister graciously took this instrument of death away from me where she has somehow tamed it to behave under her gracious care (only not right now, I hope, because she 20-some weeks pregnant. It may recognize her more fragile condition and turn on her!)

Anyway, I mostly changed it because I am desperate for spring. DESPERATE for spring. In an effort to save money, we have kept the thermostat at 64 degrees this winter. My everyday 'uniform' involves at least three shirts and a fleece jacket, often with a scarf around my neck. That's for INSIDE. I don't prefer to venture outside for fear that I might not warm up for the rest of the day.

I need spring to be here. I need it to arrive over night. But in the meantime, I'm surrounding myself with green and yellow and thinking "Buds and blossoms and bees, oh my!"

What movie are you?

Have I mentioned before that Mermaid Princess is not much for movies? I should re-phrase that by saying she's not much for watching movies if she has to be in the same room as the TV. If she can watch from down the hall and around the corner, she's all for it. Today, she ran out of the room as I read about Joe Hardy* nearly escaping from an alligator.

Needless to say, we have yet to waste $8 taking this child to a movie theater, knowing that we would spend the hour in the lobby, trying to answer the question, "What do you think is happening now?" (In all fairness, my sister and I did precisely this to my own parents when they took us to see The Jungle Book. Given the recent news about giant prehistoric snakes, I think I was right to be alarmed about Ka.)

We, therefore, are huge fans of N*tflix. We got that Wall-E video as soon as we could. And promptly watched it at least - at LEAST - 22 times. It is interesting the questions that pop up about a movie after the 22nd viewing.

"If Wall-E got his power from the sun, how did EVE get hers?"
"If the people on the Axiom didn't know each others names, where did the babies come from?"
"How did they still have food on the Axiom after 700 years?"

My own shocking surprise came around viewing number 6, as Eve blew up the cargo ship ("But why did she want to blow up the ship?" "She didn't, honey, she was just frustrated." "But did the ship do anything to make her mad?" "No, honey, it was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." "Mommy, I think EVE needs to work on her attitude.") I was trying to explain that EVE was generally a sweet robot, but one who really had a job to do and when she couldn't figure out how to get her job done, it really made her .... hey wait, oh, hey, she's a lot like, oh dear, she's a lot like, well, like me.



Which would make Big E. our very own Wall-E. And the more I thought about it, the more chagrined I got. I was baffled in the movie at Wall-E's attraction to a wildly impulsive, shoot first-ask later, easily frustrated and quite imperious (but definitely lovely) little robot.

Ah, heh, ahem, yup.

See, I would characterize my husband as endlessly curious, interested in everyone and everything, loving to the unlovely, with perseverance beyond measure, a fierce commitment to his principles, and 100% dedicated to his girl.

Just like Wall-E.

I do not come off better in this comparison except for the fact that I, evidently, can fly.

Do you have a movie that best captures your marriage?

Happy Valentine's Day!

* From the inestimable The Hardy Boys and the Jungle Pyramid. By inestimable, I really do mean I wouldn't want to admit the level of esteem I have for The Hardy Boys books. Let's just say that when Jack Jack found the shelf of Hardy Boys books at the library, I hustled him over to the Mo Willems section before he could announce the location to his brother.

Play postponed

Ah... the traumas of being the author/director/star of the show - but NOT the producer!

We ran into a hitch the morning of our performance. As we all prepared to begin rehearsal, it was suddenly brought to our attention that several stuffed animals had joined our cast. At first, I admit, I thought this was an ingenious idea and went over to shake the paws of my new castmates.

Then it occurred to me to ask just why we needed an expanded cast.

And so the script re-write came to my attention. Apparently, no one goes out to see simple "boy rescues girl from bad guy" story anymore. We needed something new, something thrilling, something to grip our audiences heart and imagination...

We needed a mystery (complete with 12 clues and an entire extras cast of bears, rabbits, raccoons, and hedgehogs).

I asked for the new plot to be explained to me; it wasn't a good sign when the playwright got herself turned around more than once with all the ins and outs of our new storyline. If I couldn't follow it and she couldn't follow it, I didn't think Jack Jack and Dad had much of a chance at all.

Mermaid Princess was horrified when her sweet, elderly character actor suddenly morphed into her erstwhile producer and refused to fund this new Total Recall version of our little play. I found myself equally shocked to hear myself saying my husband's oft-repeated line:

"Perhaps, since this is our first time attempting this, we should start small and learn from the experience?"

Oh, the moments come fast and furious these days, when I see me so clearly in her. Neither of us have a bent towards the small and undistinguished; we crave big, loud, dramatic change: "Well, if painting the hall is a good idea, then painting it with a faux finish and adding wainscoting and crown moulding must be an even better idea! In fact, such a good idea, I won't start on any of it until I have all the supplies and time set up to do all of it at once."

Start small and let's see how it goes... that's a refrain I've hardly ever used in my life. Until now. Perhaps the hallway would look nice in an eggshell ecru?

Central Casting

There are a few milestones I have eagerly awaited in my mothering journey...

For Mermaid Princess to hopefully love to do crafts so we could do them together (this has begun).

For each child to fall in love with reading (one down, two to go).

For that first great family game of soccer (should be soon).

But today was a HUGE one:

"Mommy, let's put on a play!"

Mermaid Princess has written the play, about how a princess is stolen from her family on her wedding day by an evil dragon and has to be rescued by her brave knight.

The play is written and the parts cast. I did plead to be the dragon, but was rejected on the grounds that I was needed to be the queen. Jack Jack is to be the dragon, only he doesn't want to be a dragon, he wants to be a ghost, so the play has been re-written to accommodate this contractual clause.

Today, we went to work on sets. Tomorrow, we'll get costumes and rehearse. And then our opening night performance for our very own knight-in-shining armor: Daddy.

I do have opening night jitters, for I fear that this director will be tougher on me than any I ever had in New York.