Phillip (age 3) is going through a phase of calling anyone who disagrees with him “a liar.” He has also picked up the oh-so-mature habit of calling them a “Liar, Liar, pants on fire.” He started in on his daddy this morning, while we were still in bed (he’s our alarm clock), so in Lannie’s defense, he was still pretty groggy. The conversation went something like this…

Phillip: Liar, Liar, pants on fire.
Lannie: My pants aren’t on fire.
Phillip: You’re a liar, and your pants are on fire.
Lannie: If my pants were really on fire, I would hope you would put out the fire.
Phillip: I would get a bag of marshmallows and roast them.

I see an impeccable sense of comedic timing colliding with a long string of junior high school detentions in his future.

Caleb and I have noticed that Phillip acts especially crazy right before each meal.  I’ve finally figured out that if I keep snacks on-hand for him to grab himself, it regulates his blood sugar and keeps him from acting insane.  That was no small victory this week!

Elizabeth’s emotions have manifested into sleep walking this week.  Last night marked the third time this week that she has wandered into my room while asleep.  She is the strangest sleep walker– she cries at the top of her lungs for the first few minutes, then she says things that don’t make any sense.  It honestly took us a couple of times to figure out she was sleep walking.

Last night, she wandered down the stairs crying, and I met her in the hallway to keep her from waking Phillip up.  We went into the living room, and she said, “I need to go to…”

“Go where?” I asked, knowing she wasn’t going to make any sense.

She never answered that question.  Then she said, “When are you going to get in on the…”

“Get in on what?”

“Get in on the…you know…get in on your age?”

I didn’t know what that meant, so we sang Jesus Loves Me until (I thought) she woke up.  Then I told her she needed to go back to her room.  “Okay,” she said and laid down on the couch.

“No, go to your room,” I said, and she got up and kissed me, then laid back on the couch.

I eased her up and prodded her to walk back to the stairs.  I started walking up the stairs, and she started down the hall to my bedroom.  “No, to your room,” I said, guiding her up the stairs.  Unfortunately, she is too big for me to pick up and carry.

She laid down in her bed and kissed me good-night.  I left the room, and she started crying loudly again.  I went back and asked her what was wrong.  “What do you want?” she asked.  Apparently, she never woke up in that entire exchange.

I am so ready for Lannie to come home.  This is exhausting.

Today, Elizabeth brought a note home from school saying that Mr. Cowart died this morning.  Ugh!  I felt terrible for thinking that he had flaked out by leaving the class in the middle of the year.  Elizabeth said that the school counselors had spent the afternoon in her class, talking with the kids about Mr. Cowart and helping them make cards for his family.  I thought that was a good way to help them deal, at least as a class.

When Elizabeth showed me the note, she said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”  Later, though, she cried and said, “Why do all these people I know have to die!”  As far as I know, the only other person she has known that died was her grandmother, and that was before she was old enough to remember.  Still, she has a lot of unresolved feelings about that, including the fact that she doesn’t remember her grandmother.

My mom said she was going to send me some things about helping a child deal with grief, but right now I’m kind of at a loss.  I guess the best way to handle it is to just let her talk about it when she wants to.

We have also really enjoyed his science and history curriculums that we picked out together.  Both of them are so hands-on.  He was so proud of the lapbook that he finished on Thursday for astronomy.  It was an accumulation of everything he learned about the sun, the moon, the earth, Mercury, and Venus– the first half of his book.  It was like a massive nine weeks’ test, but with a creative and kinetic element.  We both loved it!

I was hesitant about continuing with homeschooling this year, but I am so glad that we did.  We would have missed out on a lot if we had decided not to do it.  My only regret is that Elizabeth is not joining us, but I know the one-on-one time will be good for our relationship, especially as he gets into the preteen years.  Hopefully, Elizabeth and I will get the chance to do something similar for a year or two.  I think she would flourish under the one-on-one instruction (without competition from Caleb).

To bring you up to speed, she had to change teachers after the first week of school because her teacher was moved to third grade.  The explanation offered by the school was that there were not enough second graders registered to warrant the number of second grade classrooms at her school.

Teacher number two turned out to be kind of flaky.  He was in his second year of teaching, and Elizabeth was unhappy with the number of rules he had and how difficult it was to follow the rules.  In fact, she spent so much time trying to follow the rules that we worried about whether or not she was really trying to keep up with her schoolwork as well.

My mom visited Elizabeth’s classroom to read while she was here for the Hurricane Gustav evacuation.  She is usually not critical of people, but she told me when she came home, “There’s something wrong with him.”  She thought at first he might have some kind of disability, but later she thought maybe he was just very socially awkward.

That day turned out to be his last day in Elizabeth’s class.

For the past two weeks, she has had a subsitute teacher– actually, several different substitute teachers.  She cried Monday and Tuesday of this week because she didn’t know who her teacher would be.  I called the school on Wednesday and spoke with the assistant principal who is over her grade.  I was told that Elizabeth’s teacher had taken a leave of absence, and they didn’t know when or if he would be back.  In the meantime, the school had hired a permanent substitute who began teaching on Wednesday.

This makes Elizabeth’s third teacher of the school year– a school year that began six weeks ago!  She’s seriously regretting the decision to quit homeschooling and go to public school, and so am I!

Caleb is usually a pretty independent kid, so we were not too worried about him, but I guess he has become a little more dependent on us this year because of being home with me most of the time.

Caleb also is a bit of a “loner,” which means it can be difficult to fit in with the group when he is in a large group. He does well one-one-one with friends, but large groups are intimidating for him. This “loner” mentality meant he broke away from the pack to participate in a class that he liked during free time (the tech track, which taught him how to run sound and lights– his dad was so proud). He also spent a lot of time reading while the other boys in his cabin were busy planning pranks on the girls.

I should point out here that unbeknownst to me, this church group has a penchant for pulling pranks on each other (and the rest of the campers). If I had known that beforehand, there is no way I would have let him go to this camp with that group. My own youth group in high school was notorious for prank-pulling and general obnoxiousness at Siloam Springs before my dad laid down the law as their pastor, so I know a thing or two about being the uncomfortable odd-man-out in the middle of a fun-loving group.

Caleb spilled his guts about what all happened to him at camp before we pulled into the drive-way when we went to pick him up from the church on Thursday. His cabin mates filled his shoes with toothpaste (see above– he didn’t clean them out or wear them all week), spread mashed potatoes in his hair while he was sleeping, stole $20 from his bag, and called him “gay” when he wanted to take his tech class. One of the boys gave him a daily spanking for reading during free time.

I was appalled! Knowing, however, that 9 and 10-year-old boys will be boys, I was more appalled at the response of the male counselors in Caleb’s group. They told him “Prank pulling is just part of camp” and “Get over it.” That’s it. No tips on how to handle the other boys, no reprimand for the other boys, nothing.

Lannie and I cleaned out Caleb’s tennis shoes (between the two of us, it took about 2 hours and 2 washer/dryer cycles), and discussed whether or not to complain. We decided it wouldn’t really matter. This group has a deep-set mentality about pranks, and they’re not likely to change their minds by listening to us. Even though I think responsible adults should be protective of kids who don’t like to participate in this kind of thing, I can safely say that these aren’t responsible adults. We just decided to visit some other churches (we haven’t joined this one yet), and move on.

Lannie did mention that he thought my “mother hen” response was a little typical of a helicopter parent– you know, the kind that hovers over her children in case something bad happens. What do you think? Did I over-react? Would you have reacted the same way? What should I have done differently, and how can I give Caleb appropriate defense mechanisms so this doesn’t happen again?

Lannie called me on the way home from work yesterday and wanted to go out for dinner. He had been seeing IHOP commercials and was craving pancakes. I already had dinner in the oven, but I saved it for later, and we took Phillip to IHOP.

Normally, a last-minute dinner out like that would have been an ordeal with all three kids, but since the other two are gone this week, it was just the three of us. Phillip was in a pretty good mood, so I felt good about taking him out.

We sat in a booth with a glass partition separating us from the lady in the booth beside us. Phillip had one little outburst when the waiter came to take our order because he had been playing with the syrup, and Lannie took the syrup away from him. It wasn’t a big outburst, just a little yell of protest.

I was distracted by Phillip and the waiter when suddenly Lannie turned to the lady in the booth next to us and said, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make comments to me about how to raise my kid.”

I looked at him quizzically, then the lady yelled at Phillip to “Sit down and shut up!” I think the original comment had been directed to Lannie about how Phillip needed a spanking, because she then threatened to spank him herself!

Lannie told me later he was proud of the way he controlled himself, but he threw down his menu, picked Phillip up, and headed out of the restaurant. He turned back to the waiter and told him, “It’s not you.” As I was chasing him out the door, I heard the man in the booth behind us chewing out the other lady, saying, “I’ve never seen anything as rude as that in my whole life!”

Thinking about it later, I wondered if maybe the lady had some kind of dementia. She was about 70 years old. Lannie thought she was just mean. He said he thought the threat to spank Phillip was a real physical threat, and he had to get him out of there.

We did find another IHOP down the street, so Lannie got his pancakes. We all eventually had a pleasant meal.

So we are down to only Phillip this week, and you would think that would be pretty easy, right? Almost like a mini-vacation for me? Maybe. Sometimes. When he is asleep.

I took Phillip to the Children’s Museum and out to eat with Lannie yesterday since we “only” had one child with us. The Children’s Museum was fine, because it was all about him. He appreciates that. The lunch, not so much. He ate all of Lannie’s sandwich and cried for most of the meal, until we bought him a big chocolate chip cookie. One of Lannie’s co-workers asked, “You let him do that?” We weren’t at the kind of place that you can let a two-year-old scream, unfortunately. If we were really good parents, we would have left, but we were hungry, and we wanted to eat our food. You have to prioritize, you know. Food is pretty high on the list.

Today has been better, but Phillip quickly learned the down-side to all of my attention being focused on him– swifter and more direct punishment. He complained this morning that he had already been punished twice today, and I said, “Yes, that’s because you have mommy all to yourself.” I think he’ll be ready for his brother and sister to be home on Friday.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, cried at least two or three times a week about how much she hated homeschooling. If she had decided to enjoy it, I think we could have had a good time, but she was determined to hate it for the entire semester. Her main beef (besides having me for a teacher) was that it was so hard for her to make new friends here when she didn’t go to school with them. She was also closed and withdrawn whenever we went on an outing with other homeschooling kids, so I think she was determined not to make any friends there.

She and I visited the public school she will attend, and we both felt good about it. The school is K-5, which will be different for her (she is used to PreK-1 only), but the principals were nice, and we liked the facilities. She will also attend school with other kids in our neighborhood, which I think will help her sense of “belonging.” She has continuted to call Perritt (in Arkadelphia) “her school,” which hasn’t really helped the transition process for her.

Caleb is thrilled that he will be homeschooling again, and the fact that it will be WITHOUT his sister is just gravy. He loves all of the zoo classes and Pink Palace Science Museum classes that we do throughout the year, and he’s already made a few good friends who homeschool in our area. He wants to sign up for a bowling league and a swim team with other homeschoolers as well.

I’ve taken some flack from both sides of the aisle for straddling the fence on this issue. Some other homeschooling moms (and my parents) think I’m not committed enough to homeschooling. Others, including a public school teacher in my Sunday school class, think I’m doing them a disservice by homeschooling at all. I think the decision that we’ve made will probably irritate people on both sides of this issue, but after much prayer I’ve decided it doesn’t matter as long as my kids are happy.

Phillip, Caleb, Elizabeth and I sat at the DMV yesterday for FIVE HOURS. Yes, you heard me right. It was Monday, it was the first business day of the month, and I stupidly thought it wouldn’t take so long that I couldn’t run in with the kids and quickly get a driver’s license. After all, in Arkadelphia it only takes 20 minutes (sometimes less if there’s not a line).

I should have known better when I saw people waiting outside to get into the building. I really should have known better when I finally got into the building and saw 60 or more people crowded into one room. In that one room, they conducted all of their business, including TESTING. Yes, they give people written tests with 60 or more people in the room. That’s one way to cut down on the amount of teenagers with a driver’s license.

The children were…well, in their defense, it was hot, they were bored, and we were there for FIVE HOURS. I entertained them as best I could, but after 3 hours, Phillip and I were asked to leave. Seriously. The lady with the official Tennesee Department of Motor Vehicles shirt asked me to leave after I’d waited all afternoon. She told me Phillip was making too much noise, and that people were testing. We could come back into the room after the testing stopped at 3:30. So we stood outside and Caleb waited for my number to be called. Phillip and I and all of the smokers waited outside in the 92 degree weather for an hour and a half. Then we were allowed back into the building. It was the most unbelievable thing I’ve ever experienced as a mom.

After they finally called my number, I took the eye test, had my picture taken, and signed my name. Then the computer broke. I’m not kidding. I think I broke the camera. I waited another 30 minutes for them to fix it.

Seriously, people. If you don’t really know whether you’ve got your act together as a parent or not, wait until the DMV kicks you out for unruly behavior. It’s like official confirmation that you don’t know what you’re doing.

On a related note, one Shelby County organization that DOES know what they’re doing is the County Clerk’s office. It took me less than 30 minutes to get tags for both cars this morning. It ALMOST made up for yesterday. Not quite.