Happy Birthday, Judy

Today is my sister's birthday and I just wanted to acknowledge it. She has been gone for many years now but I miss her more as I get older. She was five-and-a-half years older than me and we drove each other nuts as kids. What kids don't? But we also had some incredible times and she had the tender heart of angel, with the soul of a poet. She also had a really tough life and, from the very beginning, was basically either missed, abused, or neglected altogether by the adults around her.

At 18, in desperation, she said, "Enough."

And then there was no changing anything.

I wish you could have hung on long enough, Judy, to know it wasn't worth giving up for. But you were too young to realize it and I was too young to help you see.

I know where you are though and, without a doubt, I know we'll all be together again one of these days. You would be SO proud of your niece and nephews. They're all great kids and are crazy and funny, like you. And they would LOVE you! You and I would have a ball and I would have someone to compare notes with and examine all this craziness that was our lives. I think of you often and will tell your story out here one of these days because you never got the chance to.

Each time I hear Don McLean sing "Starry, Starry NIght," I always think of you:

"For they could not love you,
But still your love was true,
And when no hope was left in sight,
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life as lover's often do,
But I could have told you Vincent,
This world was never meant for one as....
Beautiful as you."

I know you're not sad tonight. You are where all the former things are wiped away and you don't feel all the old griefs. You were loved by God and you loved him and hoped to serve him one day on the mission field. It's harder for me to forget and forgive on your behalf because so much could have been different. But I'm working on it my sister, my friend. I'm working. I love you. Happy Birthday. :)

Homeschooling to the Finish Line with Hannah-Bo

Okay. After that post a few days ago introducing you to some of our homeschooling philosophies, I'll tell you how we put it into practice.

I won't dazzle you with schedules of getting up at 5:00a.m. with both kids having practiced the piano by 6:00, and conjugated their Latin verbs by 7:00. There are wonderful homeschooling parents who are just that disciplined but it would beg the question about balance in another way. You know by now what my opinion is on that issue: no one does it all.

Without a doubt, there are some who absolutely seem to do it all and have great kids and success to prove it. And there a few, especially those of the "unschooling" philosophy, who would think education just "happens" to children while living life; it doesn't take concerted effort. I have found very little compelling evidence to recommend that opinion.

Most of what is lovely in the world, and which would culminate in full blossom, requires exposure and struggle. But education is only partially available in a textbook. Much of what would add to the loveliness of life takes place in the spiritual, emotional, and social realms. Our lives have been full there because almost EVERYthing interests us. We have gone down more trails and rabbit holes than Alice in Wonderland. We read everything - alone and aloud, turn over all rocks, ask questions endlessly, dissect bugs and ideas, and never cease to be awed and amazed at anything God has created in all of nature. Our only lament is there isn't enough time to take it all in.

And with that said, I have been known to acknowledge I am my children's worst influence. I just get them on task and focused when I say, "Did I tell you guys about THIS?" or "Oh my gosh! Look what I found!" and off we go. I like to think it has taught them flexibility. (More than likely it has taught them to handle frustrating people!) But we certainly haven't lacked for variety and excitement. I used to think of these things as "teachable moments." Not anymore. For lots of years now I have been convinced that everything about life IS a teachable moment. If anything, I have to stop myself from over analyzing all that crosses my path.

I want them to know the beauty and learning in simplicity; of taking in the whole, and not just the sum of the parts; of appreciating, from the heart, the riot of colors in a field of flowers, or the stillness of a mountain sunset as the earth burrows deeply into her cloak of darkness. Two plus two will balance the checkbook, but the poetry built into nature by God, will balance the soul.

And God's Word, learned early and often, will call them and prepare them for an eternal relationship with him and cause them to discover his purposes for their lives. My prayer for them is that, being filled by him, they are overflowing with compassion and hope toward others; that they would be bold in their faith, but not sanctimonious, which is so very repelling and injuring. And that they would never forget to extend the beauty of grace, knowing it was only through grace that they, themselves, found true love and belonging.

And in trying to do all these things I think are important, I have fallen down.....a LOT. I can't tell you how many times I have wondered what in the world I was doing and if all these threads would eventually be sewn into something recognizable in the hands of an inept seamstress. Life interrupted us as it does everyone, in one way or another. Books would be sidelined by illness, or upset, or the needs of others. We certainly weren't free from heartache or drama through the years, or relationship and family trials. But I hung on to my thread and my plan, though it was tattered and frayed many times.

And that plan included where I wanted to see my kids end up. Not what they would be doing, but preparing them to be able to do whatever it is they are supposed to do. And that also meant talking about college early. It wasn't so cast in stone that nothing else would do. But it was discussed as a natural progression just like sixth grade, or ninth, or twelfth.

By sixth grade I was calling colleges to see what their expectations were. I don't do well with things piled on me at the last minute and I wanted time to think, prepare, make mistakes, change my mind.

I was extremely blessed to follow in the footsteps of a very organized homeschooling mom (thanks, Cynthia!) who knew how to blaze trails and open doors. She kept me apprised of websites and current information for different institutions and her daughter was Hannah-Bo's inspiration. (She will graduate from a prestigious college soon - I'm not naming it to protect her privacy - with many honors and an engineering degree, having received a full ride scholarship.)

I downloaded requirements so I had plenty of time to plan. Requirements had to be met in Foreign Language, Social Studies, Math, English, etc. We couldn't afford to find out at the last minute that an institution wouldn't be open to us because we hadn't prepared. Music was a big part of our schooling and both kids play at least one instrument and have been involved in large choirs for years, as well as competitions for both of these activities.

When I was out of my league in any particular area, and I knew I would be as soon as Hannah hit Algebra II, I utilized the community college. Through another friend I found out about our local university offering classes for a low fee to high performing students. So HB took art classes, humanities, and trigonometry in her junior and senior years, through those colleges. (It had the lovely benefit of also earning her college credits for these courses.) We availed ourselves of standardized testing, SAT 9 & 10, PSAT, CHSPE, AP, and SAT because I doubted most institutions would be impressed with a mother issuing her child A's. I knew competition required a level playing field. They would have to perform well on these tests, just like any other student, to be considered for acceptance or scholarships.

And I have to say, I pushed scholarships hard.

We are not people of means with only one income. The Wild Man isn't there yet being in the seventh grade but when Hannah-Bo was just starting high school, we had a series of serious talks. An honors college she wanted to attend had stringent requirements. I wanted to know if this was her goal or ours. If it was ours, we needed to reduce the pressure and look in different directions. But if it was hers, I would pour on the coal and refuse to let her fail, even if she wanted to quit. After careful thought and prayer for a month, she announced it was definitely her goal. She lived to occasionally lament that proclamation when the going got intensely tough and my lecturing and expounding would begin. (I might hold the Olympic Gold Medal in the Lecture and Expounding event. Just ask my kids.)

But a little over a week ago, those regrets long forgotten and the tape of the high school finish line in her sites, we got a knock on the door.

Our mail lady handed us an envelope with a "Certified Mail" label stuck to it. We had to sign. Signing wasn't as hard as breathing.

We had applied to the college she so wanted to go to and had been awaiting the results for over two months. The application procedure was involved and the requirements were exacting. The competition was stiff with over 550 students from all over applying for 50 total scholarships. Yes, she had high scores and met other requirements. But so did a great many students. God had to open the door.

We looked at the envelope and at each other. "It's here," I said. I'm so eloquent under stress.

"I can't open it!" she pronounced. "I don't want to know! What if it's a no?!"

"Okay." I responded. "I'll tell you what.....I'll just slit it open and we'll lay it on the table and wait until we decide what to do." Like, what ELSE would we do but have to look at it eventually?

"Okay," she agreed. "But don't look at it!" In the meantime, The Wild Man said, "For Pete's sake! What do ya mean you don't want to open it? Haven't you been waiting for this forever?!"

Yes, but of course, reason had nothing to do with THIS moment.

"And let's do this," I offered. "Let's pray. Let's pray that no matter what it says, we have the right attitude. Let's remember that everything will be the same after we look no matter what it says. God has a plan for you and nothing can change that." And so we prayed. And then we paced. And then we looked at each other again.

"Do you want me to look and tell you?" I asked, "or do you want to look and tell me?"

"Let's do it together," she decided.

Very slowly and carefully we slid a group of papers out of the envelope. We looked at each other as we lifted the top flap of the letter. The first word we saw in bold, black letters was, "Congratulations!" and then we screamed and we jumped and we screamed again. And then we shook and we cried and we screamed even more. And then we called Grizzly to tell him. He was laying out some high voltage wire and standing in a trench. We shouted and sobbed the news, and as he stood there, all dirty and manly and sweaty, and proud, he cried, too. The culmination of a very long dream....a blessing poured out on us.

And that's my big news. We are still smiling. She has received a full ride scholarship. College paid for all four years. Dorms, too. A laptop, and she gets to pick it out. And for a girl who is a complete computer geek, that's a really big deal. We are humbled. We are speechless. We are awed that out of 50 students, she will be the only one representing the homeschool community. We are GRATEFUL.

And there you have it. I'm sorry it took so long to tell you. I have struggled with how to tell it. I want it to be an encouragement to anyone who would want to travel this path with their own child, and not a moment of seeming to say, "Hey, look at us! Aren't we great?!"

We are SO blessed to have friends to call and who celebrated with us. One friend wanted to bring Starbucks but we declined because we had so many phones calls to make (thanks anyway, Teresa!). Another friend screamed as loud and as long as we did and then, didn't ask (smart woman!), but jumped into the car, apron and all, and with her three kids raced to our house to jump up and down with us. She also brought a gift she had been saving in anticipation of good news. It had cookies and these socks inside:


These are her three kiddos and my two - The Wild Man is on the far left, and feeling proud of his sister.

And Hannah-Bo teaches a writing class for elementary homeschool students and a dear mom friend made cupcakes and the girls made this sign:

Does it get better then having so much love and happiness sent your way?!

Blessings abound and we are thankful. Thanks to all of you for reading and caring. I can't wait to hear all of your stories. I love to visit your blogs and see the terrific ways you parent and how funny and precious and special your kids are. Or how your path looks completely altered from mine where kids, or marriage, or life is concerned but finding all types of richness in sharing our journeys together. Thank you for being my friends.....old, and new.

With Love and a prayer for blessings in your life,

Robynn

Copyright 2009

Observational Twitter 12

Sublime:

"You can't get spoiled if you do your own ironing." Meryl Streep

Ridiculous:

"Ironing? I give all my ironing away and why shouldn't I? By the time I get to it it's all out of style." Robynn Reilly



Copyright 2009

We Have Winners!.....and a Baby!

Congratulations to the two winners of the $50 Amazon.com gift cards!! They are:

Aunt Kathy's Place!

Knitnut,Karen!

Way to go ladies and I hope you have something fun in mind for your cards! They will be winging their way to you shortly. Please contact me at robynnsravings at gmail dot com with your shipping information.

Thank you to everyone who participated and for all your helpful, insightful, and kind comments. There will be more contests to come.

And we have a bouncing baby boy! Jesse (isn't that the CUTEST name?) is 8lbs. and 21" long. Mother and baby are doing fine. I would include photos but I, of course, respect their privacy at this wonderful, blessed time.

It's DOULA DAY!

Mister Baby is on his way
And I'll be at the hospital today
Pray for mom, she's blessed you see,
She has two girls, baby boy makes three (children)

Very sad poet. I'll keep my day job!

Homeschooling: An Insider's View - Lacks Humor

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About thirteen years ago I formally started this little thing called homeschooling.

Homeschooling was first introduced to me while driving and listening to Dr. James Dobson on "Focus on the Family." He was interviewing Dr. Raymond S. Moore and his wife, Dorothy, on their new book entitled "Homeschool Burnout." I was on the road a lot and traveling a great deal with my job. And I was pregnant with Hannah-Bo. I knew I didn't want to travel forever and I had been trying to have a baby for years. (The subject of another post!) I knew when I heard the concept, homeschooling was for us. When it was time, I would be home and be her teacher.

Grizzly thought I was nuts.

He frequently has that thought so this was not daunting.

I did what I always do. I bought the book, read it, and then told him he should read it, too. (I actually thought this would work for the first fifteen years of our marriage. I'm a slow learner. How high does that book stack have to GET before a person catches on?) Next, I moved on to reading him short passages and giving him upshots. Then came another book and so on and so forth. He started to think it could work.

Not so much the rest of the world we lived in.

As homeschoolers, one of the questions we get asked most frequently is, "What about socialization?" After teaching for all these years I usually quip, "Don't worry about them. They have friends galore. It's ME you need to be concerned about. All I do is drive them from one thing to another and I HAVE no social life!" And ten years ago I would have completely dismissed the inquiry and been puffed up with my own opinion. But I was an idiot. It's a valid

question.

In forming my opinions about public school I looked at crime statistics, teen pregnancies, fractured parental and child relationships, and the complete void of moral and spiritual training in some schools. I wasn't impressed with THAT method of socialization. I researched overall test scores. I recalled my own abysmal school career and being missed by nearly every teacher while my home life crashed down around me for years.

Grizzly's experiences weren't much better and he'd been at private Christian school as well as public. What WOULDN'T recommend homeschooling to us?

And I thought homeschooling was inherently good, just by the nature of having constant parental involvement. I was wrong. All parties involved would have to be inherently good for that equation to balance and I haven't met that perfect person yet, especially when I look in the mirror. It just ain't so.

As my children grew I did see marvelous examples of great kids from homeschooling families. High achievers, well adjusted, future movers and shakers. But let's be honest: I saw a few terrible ones as well. Kids who had obviously not been taught much, especially manners and respect for others. And kids who were intelligent and educated academically but who brought the ugliest of judgmental attitudes down on those who didn't dress, or believe, or act exactly the way they, or their family, did. Their families taught by unflattering comparisons, instead of by Truth and love. I did it, too, at times, and had to repent mightily when I saw the ugly fruit it bore. Ouch.

But what I figured out was this: some parents public/private school their children and they could, or should, be homeschooling, for a variety of reasons. And some kids who are homeschooled would be better served by being in a public/private setting, for a variety of reasons. There isn't a one-size-fits-all approach. Life doesn't come with a template but it does come with challenges. God will meet us in those challenges and direct us. And we aren't God. Our job is to pray, and encourage, and help one another.

I have dear friends who are public school teachers. Some of them homeschool their own children and some teach in the public sector. I know how invested they are in the children in their classes and the love they give them might be the only love those children know anywhere in their lives. I am grateful for them. I am thankful for them.

I also have friends who send their kids to public/private school and they are caring, concerned, loving, fanTAStic parents. (I even have two friends who do all three with different kids - hi Teresa! - hi Kim!)

And I'm absolutely blessed by parents who make daily sacrifices and do without to honor their calling and serve their children by teaching them in their home. It's constant. It's 24/7. It's trench work. It's pushing rocks up a hill on a lot of days. But what it isn't, or shouldn't be, is about competition for who's the better parent and an either/or in school choices.

I've taken my share of heat. Family isn't always supportive. Public school advocates are sometimes prejudiced, even ugly and unkind, and think we're freaks. Well, we are freaks so that doesn't hurt our feelings. We're just not freaks in the way they think we are! Yes, there is sometimes a presumption that we do nothing and have no standards. No, my school doesn't look like any other school. I don't think I have a market on how all school should be done. I reinvent myself each year and throw out what doesn't work and press on. No, there isn't a perfect formula. If you're super strong in one area, you are probably weaker in another. NO ONE does it ALL. Public, private, or homeschooler.

My response has been to keep on keepin' on. Except on the days I don't. And then I rebel. And then I get over it. It's a theme in my life.

So with that involved, tedious, opinionated, and probably boring introduction into how we got where we are, and how we do what we do, and I'll say that I'm proud I homeschool, and not in a prideful way. I celebrate what homeschooling is and say my thankful prayers to God. And I will tell you some fantastic news about Hannah-Bo.....

tomorrow. It's a win for anyone who homeschools and needs hope that their children can compete on the academic front lines. See ya then!

Copyright 2009

Cinderella Is Overrated :)

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The following post is a reprint from an essay contest I won last week. There has been a lot of response so I thought I would bring it over here, too, for those of you who haven't seen it. I can't believe how many bells this rang for other people. Even the Pioneer Woman replies. (Yes! THAT knock out!)

"You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting"......a cookie.

I know that's not the true meaning of Daniel 5:27, but every time I hear that verse, I see the dreaded scale at the doctor's office and it makes me need to comfort myself, with sugar. Because I have been "weighed on the scales" and found fat.

Diet and exercise. Really? I thought dieting WAS exercise. I exercise self-discipline. I exercise self-control. I RUN off at the mouth about how long this diet is taking and how miserable I am. I JUMP to the conclusion it's never going to work. I THROW myself around in fits of hysteria. All of this makes me break a sweat and, if that isn't exercise then really, I give up.

And is it just me or have you ever set your own compound fracture at home just so the doctor won't tell you to lose a few pounds if you go into the office?

I didn't always fight on the front lines of the weight wars. I was a skinny kid. And of course, I didn't appreciate it. By my late teens I was fighting the demons and by twenty I was thirty pounds overweight. My mother said I looked like someone "stuck an air hose in my mouth and turned it on." She was gifted at descriptions. And she detested fat. To this day she has a fantastic figure and little tolerance for the chubby among us.

But I vacillated and tried out lots of different numbers on the scale. Worthy meant less than 140 pounds on my 5'7" frame. Worthless was anything over that. And I have watched 140 pounds disappear in my rear view mirror so many times there's a rut in the road. You would think with that rut I could trace my way back but I haven't even visited in years.

So, where does that leave me? In the worthless mode? If I'm honest I have to say yes, sometimes.

I remember sitting on my bed nursing my first baby, and weeping endlessly. I had added 28 pounds to my round figure during pregnancy. And I had delivered an 8lb. 2oz. baby. But when I got on the scale before I left the hospital, I had only lost six pounds. Now I ask you: what the heck? I'm no mathematician (which is equal to the understatement "I am not as skinny as Angelina Jolie") but shouldn't I have at least lost as much as the baby weighed??

My husband heard me crying and came upstairs to ask me what was wrong. Poor men. They just don't know what they're walking into.

"I'm f-a-a-a-a-a-t!" I wailed. "I don't want the baby to grow up and realize she has an ugly mother!" "Well, honey," he answered soothingly. "It will be YEARS before she knows that." I mentally packed his bags and sent him to live with my mother. And then I stopped sobbing and began laughing hysterically. Anyone that helpless in the comforting department cannot be held liable for his actions. And he had never, ever complained about my body. That bought him a huge pass.

But those two extremes - devastation over my plight and laughing at how ridiculous I am - would sum up where I am in my head most of the time.

I can't help comparing my body with the svelte and lean and wishing I could defeat this old adversary. I loathe clothes shopping and sometimes feel like, "What's the point?" If you take an egg and put a bathing suit on it or an evening gown, doesn't it still look like an egg? Is either outfit going to flatter me? Now, if I had Oprah's access to the fashionistas then, maybe. She can go up or down and still look gorgeous and you may be able to do the same. But on my limited budget and even more limited imagination about what to do with myself, I tend to stay away from shopping.

And my neuroses cup runneth over so much, I can look at successful people and, if they're thin and beautiful, decide on-the-spot I can never experience their accomplishment. No other factors of their achievement come into play in my teeny-tiny mind. How about their brains? Their talents? Their personalities? Their charisma? Their absolute blessing by God? No, I'm sure it is because they are worthy in their size six jeans. It's very small of me, really. Pathetic, actually. Excuse making, most probably.

When I decided to start blogging, thinking I might have something to say (okay, the reality is: when don't I have something I want to say), I checked out top blogs. One of the first I came upon was "Confessions of a Pioneer Woman." Most of you have been there, I'm sure, and know Ree Drummond. She's incredible. She's funny. She's a good cook. She's an invested homeschooling mom. She's a compelling writer. She's an unbelievable photographer with a smokin' camera and studied knowledge in Photoshop. She shares all this. She's generous.

And she's GORGEOUS and THIN! Like a desperate paparazzo in the bushes, that was all I could focus on. As soon as I saw her I knew, no matter what I ever said or did or wrote or created, I would not realize blogging success because I couldn't look like that. Seriously.

And then I got over myself.

I have to get over myself a LOT. I have to beat back the ridiculous narrative that runs in my head and try to be a grown up. I give my self-pity back to God where I'm sure he throws it into some holy trash can. (Can a trash can BE holy?) I make myself remember each person has his or her own voice and calling. And I have to realize that many, many people I admire, love, extol, value, want to be like, and desperately seek to emulate in many different areas of my life, will never win beauty contests (though some certainly could). They are mere mortals, like me, and I'm sure even Ree would be happy to point out, in her oh-so-funny way, all the things she detests about herself and what would disqualify her for goddess status.

Most of us probably won't find ourselves walking runways as fashion models. The closest we might ever get to a size six is if we multiplied it by two or three, or four.

And when I do think of those I love and admire the most, their weight and looks is irrelevant. They own my heart because of their intrinsic and beautiful value as real people with lovely, warm, and humble hearts. They make life richer for the rest of us by who they are and what they give. Some challenge me, some educate me, and a lot make me laugh.

So, I apply myself these days to making changes by eating healthier - organic whenever possible - and buying locally - because it's the best for us and supports our local farmers. And I guess I'm trying to portion control, if eating from the time you start cooking until dinner is over, counts as one portion. And I joined the gym. Apparently, you have to GO as well. Should have read the fine print.

And then I force myself to remember back to when I was seven. I watched "Cinderella" on television with Lesley Ann Warren in the lead role.

I thought she was desperately beautiful. I ran into the bedroom, looked in the mirror, and promptly burst into tears. "I will NEVER look like her!" I sobbed, and I was right. But, all these years later, I'm okay with that because I, unlike Cinderella, never have to dread midnight. I look the same before and after.

And that's strangely comforting in a roundish, pumpkin sort of way.

The Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond, responds:

That was a beautiful essay, Robynn!

I feel compelled to tell you, however, that though I'm tall and have been perceived as a relatively "thin" person throughout my life, I am very, very far from thin right now. I've gained about ten pounds in the past year (cookbook, anyone?)...and we won't talk about the baby weight I already was holding onto before that. :)

This really has nothing to do with your lovely essay. But since I'm such an in depth investigative journalist (heh heh) I felt I needed to set the record straight.

Lotsa Love,

Ree

Read Ree's post today about how her cows are comforting her on body proportions!

Copyright 2009