The semester started a week and a half ago, which means my Finnish course started as well! It's every day and I'm really enjoying it. Except for a little work with an app called Nemo this summer, I'm an absolute beginner. I decided to keep a journal of how I learn Finnish, which I talked about in an earlier post. I'll write a blog entry each weekend about what I thought was interesting that week (which may also save Siegfried from having to listen to me endlessly!). So here we go! It cuts off kind of abruptly because I ran out of time, which will probably happen fairly often, but I figure it's more important to get my thoughts down than to be a perfectionist about writing style (yay! progress! Recovering Perfectionists Untie!)
Finnish Week 1
Associating things with images is not a strategy that works for me. I've never been a strong visualizer. Times when I have been able to visualize things, I've taken it as a strong sign that whatever I've seen in my head is very important. For example, when I walked into the hall where we had our wedding reception, I could immediately visualize how I wanted it set up. My fiancé and I decided to have our reception there mainly because I had this strong reaction through an immediate visualization. But in normal everyday life, I need to take an image and make it a word before I truly understand it. I would prefer words on a computer screen as opposed to images (like the word "delete" instead of a trash can, for example). Visualizations require two steps for me.
So while I understand the reasoning behind the recommendation to use images instead of English to associate with the new words (to break the association with English and try to get the learner to think in the language without relying on English), it doesn't work for me. I need a memory trick that associates the new words with words I already know. I can't picture things. Even way back when in learning German, when I had trouble remembering that "Straße" (street) was feminine and hence "die," I came up with the phrase, "They're dying in the streets" to remember it (even though "die" is not pronounced like "to die" in English. BUT I never pictured people dying in the streets; I always just saw the phrase in my mind until I had learned it and didn't need the phrase anymore.
Now that I have more languages to work with, I can make more word associations. For example, this week I learned the word "pelottaa" in Finnish, which means "scared." I already know the word "pelota" in Spanish (ball), so I made up a phrase, "I'm scared because I'm about to get hit by a pelota." And now, a couple days later, I remember that word without studying it.
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Word Woes of the Multilingual and Unknown
One of the things I've noticed over the years is that my spelling has gotten worse. I've come up with various explanations, like age or lack of sleep or the disconnect between brain and fingers while typing, but even taking notes by hand I find myself misspelling things I never would have before. It's disconcerting for someone who prided herself on her spelling and proofreading abilities!
Recently, however, I've come up with another theory, and I think I may be on to something. I think it has to do with the number of languages I've studied and my increasing awareness of phonology. In English, especially, there are so many different ways that a sound could be spelled that sometimes I am no longer automatically sure what's right. The other day I was playing Words with Friends and was trying to figure out what I could play. I thought of the word "raze" which I knew was spelled differently from "raise" but I couldn't immediately remember how it was spelled! I ran through various combinations in my head for the /a/ sound and the /z/ sound and finally settled on "raze."
Then, yesterday, I did a duolingo placement quiz because my daughter had told me that they finally offered Swedish. I had to type a sentence that said, "The man is drinking coffee" and I actually thought - wait, how is coffee spelled in Swedish? C or K? O or A? One or two Fs? One or two Es? I know the word coffee in English, Spanish and French (café), German (Kaffee), and Swedish and it's all slightly different! After a little thought, I settled on kaffe and was right.
I used to be surprised when I saw multilingual, intelligent people spell easy words wrong, but now I think I understand: when a similar word is spelled differently in your languages, it's really hard to keep track! And (gasp) it's not really that important. If I had spelled coffee "kaffee" in Swedish, I would have been told I had a typo by duolingo, but it's not like it would impede communication. So maybe multilingualism is good for my perfectionism? Or is it a symptom of my perfectionism?
An additional note, and this might be something for me to research later about bilinguals and multilinguals, is that when I'm playing Words With Friends, I cannot turn off the other languages I know and it's rather annoying. I will see a word I can play and then realize it's not an English word. The other day I had played "teat" and then realized I could make "teatro" from it and was all set to play that when I realized that "teatro" is Spanish. Again, not really that important, but interesting nonetheless (to me, anyway).
(insert pithy, clever conclusion here, whenever one comes to mind)
Recently, however, I've come up with another theory, and I think I may be on to something. I think it has to do with the number of languages I've studied and my increasing awareness of phonology. In English, especially, there are so many different ways that a sound could be spelled that sometimes I am no longer automatically sure what's right. The other day I was playing Words with Friends and was trying to figure out what I could play. I thought of the word "raze" which I knew was spelled differently from "raise" but I couldn't immediately remember how it was spelled! I ran through various combinations in my head for the /a/ sound and the /z/ sound and finally settled on "raze."
Then, yesterday, I did a duolingo placement quiz because my daughter had told me that they finally offered Swedish. I had to type a sentence that said, "The man is drinking coffee" and I actually thought - wait, how is coffee spelled in Swedish? C or K? O or A? One or two Fs? One or two Es? I know the word coffee in English, Spanish and French (café), German (Kaffee), and Swedish and it's all slightly different! After a little thought, I settled on kaffe and was right.
I used to be surprised when I saw multilingual, intelligent people spell easy words wrong, but now I think I understand: when a similar word is spelled differently in your languages, it's really hard to keep track! And (gasp) it's not really that important. If I had spelled coffee "kaffee" in Swedish, I would have been told I had a typo by duolingo, but it's not like it would impede communication. So maybe multilingualism is good for my perfectionism? Or is it a symptom of my perfectionism?
An additional note, and this might be something for me to research later about bilinguals and multilinguals, is that when I'm playing Words With Friends, I cannot turn off the other languages I know and it's rather annoying. I will see a word I can play and then realize it's not an English word. The other day I had played "teat" and then realized I could make "teatro" from it and was all set to play that when I realized that "teatro" is Spanish. Again, not really that important, but interesting nonetheless (to me, anyway).
(insert pithy, clever conclusion here, whenever one comes to mind)
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Am I Trilingual?
I'm currently reading two books that intersect, I think. One is called A Dynamic Model of Multilingualism: Perspectives of Changes in Psycholinguistics by Philip Herdina and Ulrike Jessner, and the other is called Bounce: Mozart, Federer, Picasso, Beckham, and the Science of Success by Matthew Syed. So far Bounce hasn't said much that I haven't read in other similar books like Outliers, but it's interesting nonetheless.
At a workshop I attended recently, I introduced myself to one of the speakers and he was asking me about my background, and then commented, "Oh, you're trilingual!" I was surprised a bit, because I would never say that about myself. The Dynamic Model of Multilingualism (DMM) book explains the conceptualization that society and researchers have had about bilinguals: that they are double monolinguals, eg, people who are just like monolinguals, but in two languages. "As Grosjean (1985) mentions, the monolingual norm assumption has had an enormous impact on our concept of bilingualism and has also been (and still is) accepted by most bilinguals who criticise their own language competence or do not refer to themselves as bilingual. Only if a person is fully fluent in both languages may one call him or her a real bilingual" (p. 59). I know that my German and my Spanish are nowhere near the equivalent of my English (how could they possibly be?!) and so I hesitate to call myself trilingual.
It's only in this past year when I asked another multilingual friend if she considered English a native language of hers that I began rethinking this concept. She was raised in Finland with a Finnish mother and an American father who always spoke English with her and her sister, but they answered in Finnish. When they were in high school, the family arranged to spend a year in the United States to develop the girls' English. She also learned Spanish and uses it in her work. So that is what made me curious, because she was raised hearing English but not speaking it, so was it a native language? And that's when she used the triathlon comparison, and the same idea is in DMM: she was like a triathlete who wouldn't necessarily win a bike race against someone who just bikes, but she could do all three - bike, swim, AND run, and complete the race successfully.
So, no, I certainly am not a balanced bi- or trilingual, but I can get a lot further in Spanish than people who just speak German, and I can get a lot further in German than people who only speak Spanish. DMM talks about each multilingual person being their own dynamic system and I really like that concept. I've also had to realize this year that, I am an unusual American: with no heritage language or family that speaks another language and no extended residence in a foreign country, I have learned two foreign languages well enough to study them at a graduate level and to teach them. And I learned them pretty much simultaneously, with Spanish getting a bit of a head start.
And this is where Bounce comes in. How did I do it? If you ask someone, they'll probably say that I have an aptitude for languages or that I must pick them up easily. Perhaps I do have a talent for languages, I don't know. Basically, I would say that I have a fascination for language and that, combined with a lot of hard work, led to my ability to speak German and Spanish. This is the point that Bounce makes: when we think of Federer or Tiger Woods or Mozart, we think that they have amazing natural talent that the rest of us could never have, but when you scratch the surface, you find out that they worked really, really hard to get better. Larry Bird of the Boston Celtics used to shoot a thousand free throws a day on top of practice.
Yes, I am trilingual, and it happened because of hours and hours of practice: of making and actually using flash cards, of practicing, of writing and writing and writing and working to understand my professors' corrections, of talking to myself while I walked my dog, of studying, of watching movies with subtitles in Spanish, of reading books, magazines, websites, of pushing myself to speak and to say complex sentences. A talent for languages? I actually have three big drawbacks to learning: I can't really understand or have a hope of remembering new words unless I see them written out, so I can't learn new words from speech, I'm very perfectionistic about making mistakes (which means, I don't want to make any, ever), and I'm introverted and intimidated about speaking in a foreign language, especially in group conversations, which, by the way, is most of the practice anyone ever gets.
I remember one time in Germany asking myself when I would finally get to the point where I could just ask something without rehearsing it first, and then realizing that I always rehearsed things in English anyway. So, never?
This blog post was actually going to be about something else, but it became this, which happens. So tune in next time for a synopsis of my language studies so far, and how I'm adding Finnish into my dynamic model and plan to blog about how I learn Finnish. Maybe we'll see if I actually have a talent for languages or if it's just more hard work!
At a workshop I attended recently, I introduced myself to one of the speakers and he was asking me about my background, and then commented, "Oh, you're trilingual!" I was surprised a bit, because I would never say that about myself. The Dynamic Model of Multilingualism (DMM) book explains the conceptualization that society and researchers have had about bilinguals: that they are double monolinguals, eg, people who are just like monolinguals, but in two languages. "As Grosjean (1985) mentions, the monolingual norm assumption has had an enormous impact on our concept of bilingualism and has also been (and still is) accepted by most bilinguals who criticise their own language competence or do not refer to themselves as bilingual. Only if a person is fully fluent in both languages may one call him or her a real bilingual" (p. 59). I know that my German and my Spanish are nowhere near the equivalent of my English (how could they possibly be?!) and so I hesitate to call myself trilingual.
It's only in this past year when I asked another multilingual friend if she considered English a native language of hers that I began rethinking this concept. She was raised in Finland with a Finnish mother and an American father who always spoke English with her and her sister, but they answered in Finnish. When they were in high school, the family arranged to spend a year in the United States to develop the girls' English. She also learned Spanish and uses it in her work. So that is what made me curious, because she was raised hearing English but not speaking it, so was it a native language? And that's when she used the triathlon comparison, and the same idea is in DMM: she was like a triathlete who wouldn't necessarily win a bike race against someone who just bikes, but she could do all three - bike, swim, AND run, and complete the race successfully.
So, no, I certainly am not a balanced bi- or trilingual, but I can get a lot further in Spanish than people who just speak German, and I can get a lot further in German than people who only speak Spanish. DMM talks about each multilingual person being their own dynamic system and I really like that concept. I've also had to realize this year that, I am an unusual American: with no heritage language or family that speaks another language and no extended residence in a foreign country, I have learned two foreign languages well enough to study them at a graduate level and to teach them. And I learned them pretty much simultaneously, with Spanish getting a bit of a head start.
And this is where Bounce comes in. How did I do it? If you ask someone, they'll probably say that I have an aptitude for languages or that I must pick them up easily. Perhaps I do have a talent for languages, I don't know. Basically, I would say that I have a fascination for language and that, combined with a lot of hard work, led to my ability to speak German and Spanish. This is the point that Bounce makes: when we think of Federer or Tiger Woods or Mozart, we think that they have amazing natural talent that the rest of us could never have, but when you scratch the surface, you find out that they worked really, really hard to get better. Larry Bird of the Boston Celtics used to shoot a thousand free throws a day on top of practice.
Yes, I am trilingual, and it happened because of hours and hours of practice: of making and actually using flash cards, of practicing, of writing and writing and writing and working to understand my professors' corrections, of talking to myself while I walked my dog, of studying, of watching movies with subtitles in Spanish, of reading books, magazines, websites, of pushing myself to speak and to say complex sentences. A talent for languages? I actually have three big drawbacks to learning: I can't really understand or have a hope of remembering new words unless I see them written out, so I can't learn new words from speech, I'm very perfectionistic about making mistakes (which means, I don't want to make any, ever), and I'm introverted and intimidated about speaking in a foreign language, especially in group conversations, which, by the way, is most of the practice anyone ever gets.
I remember one time in Germany asking myself when I would finally get to the point where I could just ask something without rehearsing it first, and then realizing that I always rehearsed things in English anyway. So, never?
This blog post was actually going to be about something else, but it became this, which happens. So tune in next time for a synopsis of my language studies so far, and how I'm adding Finnish into my dynamic model and plan to blog about how I learn Finnish. Maybe we'll see if I actually have a talent for languages or if it's just more hard work!
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Swimming in Language Soup
The first year of my PhD program is over! It's been a really difficult year, one of the worst in my life, but also one of the best in some ways. I've learned more than I thought possible in an academic year, both about linguistics and language acquisition and about myself. I've found fortitude I didn't know I had. It's been an incredibly busy year and I am looking forward to having some time to relax this summer.
But before I forget them, I wanted to share two little incidents that happened this year.
The first one happened while I was scrolling though my newsfeed on Facebook. I usually have FB set in a language other than English, and I have liked various organizations that post in different languages, and I have friends from many places that post in other languages as well. So this day I was just reading item by item, and I read a couple of lines from a meme that one of my friends had shared. At about the third line, I thought, "I'm not getting any meaning from this - what's going on?"
I looked back at the beginning and realized that what I was reading had been posted from my trilingual friend who lives in Turkey, and that it was in Turkish. Since I don't speak Turkish, I wasn't understanding it. But what is so cool about this is that I didn't even notice it was another language!! I'm so used to having things posted in other languages, and whether it's French or Italian or Portuguese, even though I don't know them, I can figure out the meanings pretty well. A friend suggested that this meant I had reached another level in my languages - I don't know if that's what it signifies, but this language geek thought it was übercool!
The second thing was again really just a moment. I was reading about an avalanche and I remembered that my daughter and I had gone to see a Swedish movie called Force Majeure, which is primarily about an avalanche and the aftermath of it for a particular family. So they had used the word for avalanche in Swedish a lot, and I realized that I couldn't remember it, so I went to Google Translate and looked it up. It's "lavin."
The word lavin reminded me of another word lapin, which I knew meant rabbit, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out in what language! I looked up Swedish and German and maybe one other (it obviously wasn't Spanish). Unlike how I usually act, I just gave up instead of pursuing it to the bitter end (I must have been exhausted or something). But the next day on FB there was a meme shared by Français interactif (which I discovered through my Spanish methods of teaching course!) and it had a lapin. So, yes, I knew the word lapin, I knew it meant rabbit, but I didn't know what language! Kinda cool!
If it sounds like I am immersed in language soup all the time, well, I am, and I'm just trying to keep swimming!
But before I forget them, I wanted to share two little incidents that happened this year.
The first one happened while I was scrolling though my newsfeed on Facebook. I usually have FB set in a language other than English, and I have liked various organizations that post in different languages, and I have friends from many places that post in other languages as well. So this day I was just reading item by item, and I read a couple of lines from a meme that one of my friends had shared. At about the third line, I thought, "I'm not getting any meaning from this - what's going on?"
I looked back at the beginning and realized that what I was reading had been posted from my trilingual friend who lives in Turkey, and that it was in Turkish. Since I don't speak Turkish, I wasn't understanding it. But what is so cool about this is that I didn't even notice it was another language!! I'm so used to having things posted in other languages, and whether it's French or Italian or Portuguese, even though I don't know them, I can figure out the meanings pretty well. A friend suggested that this meant I had reached another level in my languages - I don't know if that's what it signifies, but this language geek thought it was übercool!
The second thing was again really just a moment. I was reading about an avalanche and I remembered that my daughter and I had gone to see a Swedish movie called Force Majeure, which is primarily about an avalanche and the aftermath of it for a particular family. So they had used the word for avalanche in Swedish a lot, and I realized that I couldn't remember it, so I went to Google Translate and looked it up. It's "lavin."
The word lavin reminded me of another word lapin, which I knew meant rabbit, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out in what language! I looked up Swedish and German and maybe one other (it obviously wasn't Spanish). Unlike how I usually act, I just gave up instead of pursuing it to the bitter end (I must have been exhausted or something). But the next day on FB there was a meme shared by Français interactif (which I discovered through my Spanish methods of teaching course!) and it had a lapin. So, yes, I knew the word lapin, I knew it meant rabbit, but I didn't know what language! Kinda cool!
If it sounds like I am immersed in language soup all the time, well, I am, and I'm just trying to keep swimming!
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Turning Points
Sometimes when you look back over your life and the decisions you've made, you can see turning points. Before that time, you were heading in one direction and then you clearly made changes to go in a new direction. Unexpected things can happen along the way, once you make that change.
When I look back, I see two clear turning points that coincided to compel us to make changes to our lives. Before them, Siegfried worked and I stayed home and took care of the children. We lived frugally but never could get ahead at all. We believed in being open to children and had six of them. We homeschooled. We lived in the country. These parameters defined the limits of our lives.
Rumbles of a change started in 2005 with the birth of the twins. Suddenly I couldn't take care of the children all by myself and my husband needed to get more involved. In 2006 I started my first Books and Brownies blog and began reclaiming myself and my interests. We weathered two bouts of unemployment. I read the book Hirkani's Daughters: Women Who Scale Modern Mountains To Combine Working and Breastfeeding by Jennifer Hicks (even though I wasn't working and wasn't planning to) and realized that, contrary to what I had thought, it was possible to be the kind of mom I wanted to be and still have a career.
All of that led up to the third bout of unemployment in early 2007, when Siegfried and I thought (we're slow on the uptake sometimes), "Maybe this whole one income thing isn't really working out. Maybe having two jobs might be a good thing." And I decided to put together a resume and start looking. I subbed a little and got two part-time jobs pretty easily, and I began to dream. So that was one turning point.
I don't remember exactly when the other turning point occurred. I'm pretty sure that I was talking to my friend who also has seven children around that same time, and I said simply, "I didn't have all these children just so they could live in poverty in the middle of nowhere." And as I look back now, that statement has guided our decisions. It definitely was a turning point, as I began to ask myself how we had ended up in that situation, and how we could get out of it.
And now we have. After seven years of hard work, we're on the verge of moving out of the countryside and into a town with plenty of opportunities. We gave up homeschooling as a lifestyle and realized that school can be great too. We both work and we both take care of the children, and it's improved our marriage. I am more understanding of him; he is more understanding of me. We have a little more money, and hopefully that will improve more once I get my PhD.
The unexpected thing, to me, was that I enjoy working. I am much happier having a career in addition to being a wife and mother. To my surprise, the children have greater opportunities with me working than if I had continued to stay home and devote myself to their education!
Congratulations to us! I don't know where we would be if we hadn't turned when the road called for it. I don't want to know, actually. I'll just continue on my merry way.
When I look back, I see two clear turning points that coincided to compel us to make changes to our lives. Before them, Siegfried worked and I stayed home and took care of the children. We lived frugally but never could get ahead at all. We believed in being open to children and had six of them. We homeschooled. We lived in the country. These parameters defined the limits of our lives.
Rumbles of a change started in 2005 with the birth of the twins. Suddenly I couldn't take care of the children all by myself and my husband needed to get more involved. In 2006 I started my first Books and Brownies blog and began reclaiming myself and my interests. We weathered two bouts of unemployment. I read the book Hirkani's Daughters: Women Who Scale Modern Mountains To Combine Working and Breastfeeding by Jennifer Hicks (even though I wasn't working and wasn't planning to) and realized that, contrary to what I had thought, it was possible to be the kind of mom I wanted to be and still have a career.
All of that led up to the third bout of unemployment in early 2007, when Siegfried and I thought (we're slow on the uptake sometimes), "Maybe this whole one income thing isn't really working out. Maybe having two jobs might be a good thing." And I decided to put together a resume and start looking. I subbed a little and got two part-time jobs pretty easily, and I began to dream. So that was one turning point.
I don't remember exactly when the other turning point occurred. I'm pretty sure that I was talking to my friend who also has seven children around that same time, and I said simply, "I didn't have all these children just so they could live in poverty in the middle of nowhere." And as I look back now, that statement has guided our decisions. It definitely was a turning point, as I began to ask myself how we had ended up in that situation, and how we could get out of it.
And now we have. After seven years of hard work, we're on the verge of moving out of the countryside and into a town with plenty of opportunities. We gave up homeschooling as a lifestyle and realized that school can be great too. We both work and we both take care of the children, and it's improved our marriage. I am more understanding of him; he is more understanding of me. We have a little more money, and hopefully that will improve more once I get my PhD.
The unexpected thing, to me, was that I enjoy working. I am much happier having a career in addition to being a wife and mother. To my surprise, the children have greater opportunities with me working than if I had continued to stay home and devote myself to their education!
Congratulations to us! I don't know where we would be if we hadn't turned when the road called for it. I don't want to know, actually. I'll just continue on my merry way.
Thursday, June 12, 2014
A Classic "Books and Brownies" Post
So do you really want to know why I'm starting a PhD program? Do you? Do you? Do you?
Because it can't be harder than this -
Because it can't be harder than this -
A Week in the Life of a Postpartum Homeschooling Mother of Seven
(originally published September 12, 2008)
Monday morning while cleaning the twins’ disaster of a room (note
to self #1: duct tape their arms to their sides so they can’t make messes
faster than I can clean them up), the dental office called. "Gawan needs a cleaning." I told them that all my children did, except Parzival. (He squeaked out of it because he has no teeth yet.) So they
said, "Can you come in tomorrow?" They must have had some openings
and said, "Who can we call who has a lot of children?"
My immediate reaction was "No, I can’t come in
tomorrow." (note to self #2: go with immediate reaction!) But
then I started rationalizing that we are not doing full school right now, and
so it would be better to do it now rather than later. "OK," I said
(note to self #3: make appointments at your convenience rather than the office’s
convenience).
We arrived on time. 5 children, 5 cleanings, 0 cavities, 2
referrals for orthodontist appointments. Oh, and Isolde needs sealants
on her new adult teeth. And make an appointment for six months from
now. (note to self #4: I have no idea what I will be doing six months
from now, but I bet it includes either books or brownies!) So, "Can
you bring her in Thursday morning at 8 AM?"
My immediate reaction was, "Are you insane??? Get six
children up and dressed and ready and nursed (OK, that’s just one child
actually) and get to the dental office which is a half hour away by EIGHT
AM????" (note to self #5: CHECK NOTE TO SELF #2!) But then I started
rationalizing (note to self #6: rationalizing on no sleep is dangerous) that we
already needed the van on Thursday to go to ballet, so my husband would not have
to drive the gas-guzzling truck another day just for Gabrielle to get her
sealants, AND we weren't doing full school yet so it would be better to do it
now rather than later. "OK, " I said (note to self #7: consider
appointment with psychiatrist).
Tuesday evening I received an email from Isolde’s tutor asking
if I wanted to meet for a session the next morning. Considering that
adding that in would make me have to take all the children out 4 mornings in a
row, I was cognizant enough to type politely, "I’m sorry, I won’t be
able to do that." (note to self #8: scratch the psych appointment – you’re
not completely gone yet).
Wednesday evening I left when my husband got home to go to a
homeschool support meeting, taking the baby along. I was looking forward
to relaxing, chatting, and possibly getting some ideas I hadn't heard of before
since the topic was dealing with little ones while homeschooling. I
figured the baby would sleep and nurse, nurse and sleep – he’s only a month old
and that’s all they do, right? (note to self #9: they also cry)
I drove home thinking, "I should have gone to the La Leche
League meeting instead and dispensed all my great nursing wisdom to new moms
with one baby, instead of going to a homeschool meeting where, even though I
have graduated one child who received a full scholarship to college, I felt
like an utter failure as a homeschooling mom." I had listened to
everyone’s lovely ideas and suggestions and known without a doubt that none of
them would work in my family situation. (note to self #10: do NOT give in to
depressive downward spirals)
I stopped at Food Lion and the baby continued to cry through the
entire store. The cashier was terribly concerned that something was wrong
with him (I guess she never got note to self #9), which stressed me out.
Sometimes I just want to be invisible, but for some reason when you are
pregnant or have a baby or go out with 6 children, you are not allowed to be
invisible, which is probably a huge part of the stress I was feeling this
week. I got home and told my husband about all the suggestions and all
the reasons they wouldn’t work and his reply was, "We’re doomed."
(note to self # 10: try not to take hubby with you on depressive downward spirals)
I then called Beowulf to help him with his German homework (note to self
#11: homeschooling doesn't actually end, you just do it at midnight on the
phone).
In all my depressing my husband, I forgot to ask him to wake me up
the next morning in time for our 8 AM appointment. "No
problem," I thought at 3 AM, "Parzival usually wakes up around
6ish." (note to self #12: a baby is not a reliable alarm
clock) I rolled over and saw the clock said 7:14 AM. Did I mention
the dentist is a half hour away?
We were twenty minutes late. I had hopes that, since only
one child was being seen, it would be faster than the appointments on Tuesday,
but after an hour of sitting in the full waiting room refereeing little boy
quarrels, I decided all little boys needed to go outside to the van, where I
proceeded to referee little boy quarrels in privacy while ignoring the fact
that they were making a mess (note to self #13: see note to self #1 and
consider applying said duct tape to their mouths too). When Isolde finally came out, I quickly scrapped any thought of doing other errands and
drove straight home to have lunch. (note to self #14: skipping breakfast
while nursing is a bad idea. Skipping breakfast while nursing after
having skipped dinner the night before is a worse idea.)
In my two hours at home before leaving for tutoring and ballet, I
called a friend who also has a lot of children and very little money and
confirmed my initial suspicion that none of the lovely ideas floated around at
the homeschooling meeting would work for us. I had to cut the commiseration
short to get to tutoring on time. It went much better this week
because I had the good sense to corral the twins in the double stroller
while in the library. (note to self # 15: everything goes much better when the
twins are corralled)
After errands, I stopped and picked up some Japanese food because
I was starving and headed to ballet, where I ate the entire thing (it usually
makes 2 meals) while managing to spill soy sauce all over the baby’s blanket.
(note to self #16: keep baby out of path of sauces) Then I managed to
knock over a cup of water as well. (note to self #17: if you ever need to wake Parzival up quickly, dump a cup of water on him. Works like a charm!)
Unfortunately, the water did not take care of the soy sauce issue. Then I
decided to stay away from liquids for the remaining time at ballet. (note to
self #18: lack of sleep could be the cause of the spilling problem)
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig. I was absolutely
physically exhausted. (note to self #19: DO NOT EVER TAKE ALL THE CHILDREN OUT
IN THE MORNING AND AGAIN IN THE AFTERNOON AGAIN!)
I have no real memory of last night aside from making brownies (I
always have energy for that!), reading two paragraphs of the biography of Joyce
Kilmer to my daughters, which we have been reading since, uh, June,
probably. (note to self #20: try not to let birth of new baby interfere
with read-aloud schedule), and answering their question for the million
trillionth time that no, I have not heard from the friend they want to go visit
and I would tell them the exact minute that I do hear from said friend. (note
to self #21: call friend this weekend so dear daughters can move on to asking
me a different question fifty thousand times)
Obviously not having paid any attention to note to self #12 from
Thursday morning, I assumed I would be awake in plenty of time to take the baby to his ultrasound at the hospital at 10 AM. (note to self # 22: have husband teach me how to set alarm clock) When I woke up the clock said 8:47 AM,
leaving us one hour and thirteen minutes to get everyone fed, dressed, and
buckled in the car and then drive thirty minutes to the hospital, find a spot
in the parking deck, park and unbuckle everyone and corral the twins in the
double stroller (note to self #23: good job paying attention to note to
self #15!), plop baby in the sling and walk to the hospital, and find out
where exactly we were going.
We arrived 20 minutes late again. After playing laboratory
rats in a maze (with lots of bystanders thinking, "Look at the mother rat
with all her little rat offspring!") we found Children’s Radiology. Parzival was quite patient and good with women pouring gunk on his head and
trying to see inside. The results seemed reassuring and we were cleared
for takeoff at 11:30ish. I left my cell phone at home, and I have broken every
watch Roger has ever given me, so I didn’t know what time it was exactly.
In the elevator I got a bit dizzy because I had ignored note to self #14.
I got in a minor panic at the van because I couldn’t find my house keys
although I knew I had them. Turned out they were where I normally put
them in the double stroller compartment thingie. I stopped and bought us
all some bagels to hold us over until we got home for lunch. (note to self #24:
children eating bagels at noon IS lunch!)
When I got home, Siegfried called to hear about the ultrasound and
then told me to rest that afternoon. Resting consisted of nursing the
baby, washing dishes because our dishwasher is broken, hanging laundry because
our dryer is broken, putting the twins down for their nap and then going back
in every five minutes to put them back in their cribs and turn the light off
while saying firmly, "Schlafenzeit!" and then finally giving up and
going back in two seconds after putting them in their cribs to inform them
cheerfully, "Naptime is over!" so they don’t think that they are
declaring their nap done while trying to write a blog post. (note to self #25:
check dictionary for definition of rest)
The little boys were all starving at five and wanted peanut butter
and jelly sandwiches. They hadn’t had a snack and the bagels were a
long time ago so I let them while putting water on for spaghetti for
dinner. When they were still eating at 5:30, I decided to call that dinner
for the little ones so they could go to bed early. (note to self #26:
sandwiches at 5 is dinner)
Siegfried got home and installed a childproof doorknob cover on both
sides of the twins’ door because, in addition to recently learning how to climb
out of their cribs, they have also gotten quite adept at opening doors, and
find it great fun to open their door while "taking a nap," scream into the hallway, and then slam the door shut. I got the twins ready
for bed while Roger was on the phone with the dishwasher repairman, but then
could not get their door open to put them to bed (I’ve never been good with
locks or doors). The baby had to nurse, so the twins got a reprieve until
Daddy was done on the phone. (note to self #27: really MUST work on door
opening skills when I have a spare moment)
Finally, the twins are asleep, exhausted from a hard day’s work of
causing chaos and mayhem wherever they go, Ryan is in bed, the girls have gone
to bed with nary a whimper about not reading to them since I am eating my
dinner (the bagels at noon were a long time ago, and brownies aren’t that
filling), and Roger and I are watching the last episode of Dallas on our
current Netflix disk. Sue Ellen is pregnant!
I normally try to stay away from the "I deserve"
mentality, but I really think that after this week, I deserved exactly what I
got tonight: Dallas, Enrique CDs, brownies, reading Bridget Jones’s Diary,
cuddling my cute baby and being thankful he’s healthy, and sharing it all with
my friends via this blog. Good night, and let’s pray that everyone in
Texas is safe tonight! (note to self #28: get some sleep!)
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
The March of April May Do Me In
I haven't blogged since March. Unlike other times when I didn't write, I haven't mentally composed entries and then not gotten a chance to write them up. I just haven't even had the mental space to even think!
In March I was still waiting to hear from some programs I had applied to. Then I took a long solo road trip to visit Beowulf and take him his things that were left in our house. I visited my aunt and uncle and met a new cousin, visited old friends, and then went to visit a university. I loved it so much I didn't want to leave! Then I drove 11 hours home and collapsed. I still hadn't heard about funding.
In April, I was still waiting to hear from some programs and about funding. I was checking my email every two minutes and finally resorted to only allowing myself to check it between episodes of House of Cards. Then I got sick and watched about twenty episodes in two days, so there went that. As of April 15, when I had to tell universities yea or nay, I *still* didn't know about funding! I decided to tell my favorite university that I was coming if they were offering me funding, and deferring till the following year if they weren't. They replied that they would put me down as deferred. Then followed a long, upsetting exchange where I found out that they had known since February that they didn't have funding for me but didn't tell me so that I could look for another source. My eczema flared horribly and I thought, "Here's the proof that it's stress-related!" I thought I was going to have to wait another year, which meant staying at my job which had taken a nose-dive and also finding a new place to live as we had already arranged to move out of our house. We spent Easter weekend looking at possible rentals. I had already planned at trip to Alabama at the very end of April and had hoped that everything would be settled by then so that I could relax, but now it looked like it wouldn't be. I could still apply for funding but wouldn't know until mid-May or later if I got it, so we didn't know if we should look for a short-term rental or long-term or if we were staying in our current state or moving to another state! And we still have six children at home and jobs that we were trying to take care of and do during all this! Siegfried (my husband) wanted to take a long weekend and go visit his mom before we had to move so he decided to squeeze it in before my trip to AL. I took him to the airport Friday afternoon, then went home and picked up my daughters from school, then took some of the children home and older daughter Isolde to ballet and then went to look at two possible rentals. The first one was adequate, but the second one I absolutely, totally loved! It had a gigantic map of the world in the foyer, and the entire house was gorgeous. I drove back to ballet, called Siegfried who had just landed, and told him about it. He said if I loved it that much to just apply for it without waiting for him to see it. We hung up and I checked my email and there was an offer of a teaching assistantship from the Spanish department. I literally (and I do mean literally!) could not believe it. Twenty minutes after seeing a house I loved and feeling like I was all right with staying for another year and THERE IT WAS - my funding! Now we had to decide our entire lives by Tuesday, the day my husband was coming back. Great timing! I asked all my friends for advice and most said to follow our hearts. The only reason to stay was that we both had jobs. I felt like I was choosing between financial security and our vision for our lives. I ended up writing a list of reasons why we wanted to move and then evaluating which option met the most reasons. Monday night when my husband and I were supposed to talk about it, instead he was really upset about something with his mother, which he told me, which got me really upset, and then we still had to decide our lives. We decided to go for it! The next day I accepted the assistantship and contacted the landlord of the house I had looked at while visiting the university, picked up my husband from the airport, went to work the next day, and something else really upsetting happened! I still hadn't packed for my trip and I was leaving right after school. I went home and threw things in a suitcase and drove eight hours to Alabama.
And that was April. If you thought that was a long paragraph to read, try living through it!
May started with a lovely vacation with my sister in Alabama (despite more upsetting news from work), and then went into high gear with informing my job that I was leaving, trying to figure out when to move out of our house, rehearsals, showcases, recitals, plays, concerts, packing, packing and more packing! To complicate things, we aren't moving directly to our new state, but the children and I are spending the summer with my mother while Isolde does a five week ballet intensive. We secured the house I had seen in our new state but couldn't move in until the end of July. So the majority of our stuff needed to be put in storage pods and then shipped there, while I also needed stuff to occupy the boys for five or six weeks in another state, while we would still be living in our house here for a few weeks. Oh, and did I mention that we still have six children at home and jobs to do? Yeah. May was nuts. It ended with our movers not showing up to load the pods.
And now it's June. The end is in sight: the end of school, the end of packing, the end of living in rural isolation, the end of stressing about our house. However, we still need to find a place for Siegfried to live for the summer, and he still needs to find a job in our new state or we will be living apart for a while. Sigh...you know Kriemhild couldn't stand to be parted from Siegfried!
And that, in a very big nutshell, is why I haven't had mental space or time for blogging.
In March I was still waiting to hear from some programs I had applied to. Then I took a long solo road trip to visit Beowulf and take him his things that were left in our house. I visited my aunt and uncle and met a new cousin, visited old friends, and then went to visit a university. I loved it so much I didn't want to leave! Then I drove 11 hours home and collapsed. I still hadn't heard about funding.
In April, I was still waiting to hear from some programs and about funding. I was checking my email every two minutes and finally resorted to only allowing myself to check it between episodes of House of Cards. Then I got sick and watched about twenty episodes in two days, so there went that. As of April 15, when I had to tell universities yea or nay, I *still* didn't know about funding! I decided to tell my favorite university that I was coming if they were offering me funding, and deferring till the following year if they weren't. They replied that they would put me down as deferred. Then followed a long, upsetting exchange where I found out that they had known since February that they didn't have funding for me but didn't tell me so that I could look for another source. My eczema flared horribly and I thought, "Here's the proof that it's stress-related!" I thought I was going to have to wait another year, which meant staying at my job which had taken a nose-dive and also finding a new place to live as we had already arranged to move out of our house. We spent Easter weekend looking at possible rentals. I had already planned at trip to Alabama at the very end of April and had hoped that everything would be settled by then so that I could relax, but now it looked like it wouldn't be. I could still apply for funding but wouldn't know until mid-May or later if I got it, so we didn't know if we should look for a short-term rental or long-term or if we were staying in our current state or moving to another state! And we still have six children at home and jobs that we were trying to take care of and do during all this! Siegfried (my husband) wanted to take a long weekend and go visit his mom before we had to move so he decided to squeeze it in before my trip to AL. I took him to the airport Friday afternoon, then went home and picked up my daughters from school, then took some of the children home and older daughter Isolde to ballet and then went to look at two possible rentals. The first one was adequate, but the second one I absolutely, totally loved! It had a gigantic map of the world in the foyer, and the entire house was gorgeous. I drove back to ballet, called Siegfried who had just landed, and told him about it. He said if I loved it that much to just apply for it without waiting for him to see it. We hung up and I checked my email and there was an offer of a teaching assistantship from the Spanish department. I literally (and I do mean literally!) could not believe it. Twenty minutes after seeing a house I loved and feeling like I was all right with staying for another year and THERE IT WAS - my funding! Now we had to decide our entire lives by Tuesday, the day my husband was coming back. Great timing! I asked all my friends for advice and most said to follow our hearts. The only reason to stay was that we both had jobs. I felt like I was choosing between financial security and our vision for our lives. I ended up writing a list of reasons why we wanted to move and then evaluating which option met the most reasons. Monday night when my husband and I were supposed to talk about it, instead he was really upset about something with his mother, which he told me, which got me really upset, and then we still had to decide our lives. We decided to go for it! The next day I accepted the assistantship and contacted the landlord of the house I had looked at while visiting the university, picked up my husband from the airport, went to work the next day, and something else really upsetting happened! I still hadn't packed for my trip and I was leaving right after school. I went home and threw things in a suitcase and drove eight hours to Alabama.
And that was April. If you thought that was a long paragraph to read, try living through it!
May started with a lovely vacation with my sister in Alabama (despite more upsetting news from work), and then went into high gear with informing my job that I was leaving, trying to figure out when to move out of our house, rehearsals, showcases, recitals, plays, concerts, packing, packing and more packing! To complicate things, we aren't moving directly to our new state, but the children and I are spending the summer with my mother while Isolde does a five week ballet intensive. We secured the house I had seen in our new state but couldn't move in until the end of July. So the majority of our stuff needed to be put in storage pods and then shipped there, while I also needed stuff to occupy the boys for five or six weeks in another state, while we would still be living in our house here for a few weeks. Oh, and did I mention that we still have six children at home and jobs to do? Yeah. May was nuts. It ended with our movers not showing up to load the pods.
And now it's June. The end is in sight: the end of school, the end of packing, the end of living in rural isolation, the end of stressing about our house. However, we still need to find a place for Siegfried to live for the summer, and he still needs to find a job in our new state or we will be living apart for a while. Sigh...you know Kriemhild couldn't stand to be parted from Siegfried!
And that, in a very big nutshell, is why I haven't had mental space or time for blogging.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Wait - Is This An Anti-book Message?!
I had a thought the other day - it's been years since I read a marriage book. Yet somehow, without the sage advice of authors peddling various viewpoints, my husband and I are just as happy as ever, if not happier, despite massive amounts of stress.
It's also been years since I read a parenting book. The last time I tried was in 2011 - a book called "Raise Happy Children - Raise Them Saints!" which I got at a Catholic bookstore. I never got very far in it. I don't remember specifics, but I do recall being appalled at bad logic and horrible hyperbole. And yet, somehow, my children are still good kids, mostly well-behaved, loved by their teachers, respectful, and they still love God, my husband, and me.
I'm thinking there might be a lesson here.
It's also been years since I read a parenting book. The last time I tried was in 2011 - a book called "Raise Happy Children - Raise Them Saints!" which I got at a Catholic bookstore. I never got very far in it. I don't remember specifics, but I do recall being appalled at bad logic and horrible hyperbole. And yet, somehow, my children are still good kids, mostly well-behaved, loved by their teachers, respectful, and they still love God, my husband, and me.
I'm thinking there might be a lesson here.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Update!
Change the probable no to a definite no for the PhD program. However, the same school offered me a spot in an intriguing MS program, which I am considering.
So I guess now I actually have options! So exciting!
So I guess now I actually have options! So exciting!
Friday, February 21, 2014
The Count
PhD programs applied to: 8
Definite no: 2
Probable no: 1
Haven't heard: 3
Finalist for program: 1
DEFINITE YES: 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Definite no: 2
Probable no: 1
Haven't heard: 3
Finalist for program: 1
DEFINITE YES: 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thursday, February 20, 2014
What Is Sustainable Homeschooling?
A year and a half after we stopped exclusively homeschooling, I am still processing our homeschooling years and what they meant to me. Tonight I had an opportunity, thanks to a fabulous group of women, to get together with other homeschooling moms (I'm not being sexist; no dads were present) and discuss the idea of sustainable homeschooling and what that term means to each of us. My intent in writing this blog post is not to outline our discussion but to hit upon some of the areas that we encountered again and again as we told our stories, and to further develop my thoughts about the concept.
Sustainable brings images to my mind of agriculture, of business, of harvesting trees and fish, and other areas like that. The overarching concept is not to ruin something so that it no longer exists, i.e., it can be sustained indefinitely. We don't eat so many wild salmon that there aren't enough left to reproduce, so that we can continue eating salmon for generations, for example. If homeschooling is a positive thing, and even though I am no longer exclusively homeschooling, I believe that it most definitely is for many people, then we should want to do it sustainably, so that our families can reap the benefits and mitigate or eliminate the disadvantages.
My concern, which comes from my experiences as a long-time homeschooling mom of a large family and from my observations and conversations with other homeschooling moms, is that a large percentage of homeschool moms are not homeschooling sustainably. Instead, they are burning themselves out. The disadvantages create a vicious circle, a downward spiral, that leads to a mom always feeling worn out, incompetent, and overly stressed. At the same time, homeschooling rhetoric demonizes school, and so the mom ends up feeling trapped.
I didn't realize that I felt that way until the day my principal mentioned at a faculty meeting that she was considering starting an elementary school, and I felt like I had been let out of prison! Words cannot adequately describe that moment. Once that happened, I could not, no matter how I tried, stuff those feelings back inside of me. But public school was not an option. Until there was no other option. And then I tried it, and it was fine.
I heard moms say tonight that they are tired, they don't have time to plan, they have no time in their houses by themselves, they never get a break, they don't have money to hire help or to fund outside activities, that there's chaos frequently, that they have to be everything (teacher, psychiatrist, chauffeur, etc), that their children have special needs that require a lot of time and effort to handle, that they don't understand a certain child...the list goes on.
One realization I had a few years back was that often, when homeschooling moms have an issue and they discuss it with each other, the answer is frequently some additional thing the mom should research or try to do. I remember a conversation with a mom trying to solve all my issues for me by suggesting thing after thing that I could do. The issue is - homeschooling moms don't need more to do! They need less to do!
I already had a tendency to maximize my time before children. I always had something to read with me. I would work on something during commercials while watching sports. Even when I had twin babies and a two year old and had to go out somewhere, I would STILL bring something to read or do with me, even though I didn't have a prayer of ever getting to any of it! I kept trying to get more out of my time so that I could do even a fraction of what was on my plate, when really I needed to do less. The last year of full homeschooling, as I pulled out of the driveway on my way to go teach, I heard the Alan Jackson song "It's Five o'clock Somewhere" with the line, "This lunch break is gonna take all afternoon" and it hit me that I had not planned a lunchtime for myself in my schedule! I had figured out when the children would eat, but not me.
Then it dawned on me that we have a word for that in English: workaholic. Because I didn't have a regular job, it never occurred to me that I didn't know how to take a break. I was never recharging myself! If you don't plug in your electronic device to charge, it will die and won't be able to do anything, and that was where I was headed. That day I forced myself to take a fifteen minute break to do nothing, and it was very difficult. I ended up calling my husband the last half of it.
However, the thing that concerns me the most after the discussion tonight was how many moms feel like they've lost themselves. I completely lost myself in the first nine years of homeschooling. I gave up everything I was interested in outside of my children, homeschooling, and parenting. Starting my first Books and Brownies blog in the summer of 2006 was the first step back to finding myself. Even the title was a step in that direction because I love books, and brownies, and alliteration. Because of all of the above issues: exhaustion, stress, lack of finances, long driving distance, no babysitters, etc., I never did things for myself. That was eight years ago, and I'm still recovering myself. I don't want to see this happen to other moms! There has to be more to your life than being a homeschooling mom.
Being a mother can be all-consuming. Being a homeschooling mom can be more so. Linguistically that makes no sense because if something is already all-consuming, it's consumed all and so there's no more to consume! It's easy to fall into because you are constantly surrounded by everything you need to do, every dish you need to wash, every child you need to spend time with, every piece of laundry you need to fold, every curriculum you need to research, every bed you need to make, every meal you have to cook, every subject you didn't manage to get to today...the list is endless.
In my last desperate attempts at trying to make homeschooling work, I seriously considered renting a house just for homeschooling, so I could achieve some separation in my worlds. My thought was that all our homeschooling things would be there and organized, we would get dressed, pack lunches, and go over there to do our work, and then come home when we were done. I still think the idea has merit even though it would be expensive. When we first started homeschooling, my oldest was friends with a boy who lived in a house that already had a wired workshop on the property, so they used that as their schoolhouse. When we moved into our house, it had four bedrooms plus a den, and at the time we only had three children, so we could have easily made a room our schoolroom. However, my husband wasn't in favor of that idea and I didn't insist, so our homeschooling materials were all over the house, which some would say integrates life and learning, which is true, but doesn't take into account a mother's need for some mental space!
I don't know what will come of the group that met tonight, or what schooling decisions we all will make for our families in the future. But I am elated that people are having this conversation and that there are moms willing to discuss the drawbacks of homeschooling, because I have met homeschooling families who will not admit that there actually are drawbacks! This attitude leaves moms feeling isolated and alone, like they must be doing it all wrong if they're not 100% ecstatic every day to be with their children. If we can have honest discussions about the difficult areas, we can begin to solve those issues so that homeschooling can be truly sustainable.
Sustainable brings images to my mind of agriculture, of business, of harvesting trees and fish, and other areas like that. The overarching concept is not to ruin something so that it no longer exists, i.e., it can be sustained indefinitely. We don't eat so many wild salmon that there aren't enough left to reproduce, so that we can continue eating salmon for generations, for example. If homeschooling is a positive thing, and even though I am no longer exclusively homeschooling, I believe that it most definitely is for many people, then we should want to do it sustainably, so that our families can reap the benefits and mitigate or eliminate the disadvantages.
My concern, which comes from my experiences as a long-time homeschooling mom of a large family and from my observations and conversations with other homeschooling moms, is that a large percentage of homeschool moms are not homeschooling sustainably. Instead, they are burning themselves out. The disadvantages create a vicious circle, a downward spiral, that leads to a mom always feeling worn out, incompetent, and overly stressed. At the same time, homeschooling rhetoric demonizes school, and so the mom ends up feeling trapped.
I didn't realize that I felt that way until the day my principal mentioned at a faculty meeting that she was considering starting an elementary school, and I felt like I had been let out of prison! Words cannot adequately describe that moment. Once that happened, I could not, no matter how I tried, stuff those feelings back inside of me. But public school was not an option. Until there was no other option. And then I tried it, and it was fine.
I heard moms say tonight that they are tired, they don't have time to plan, they have no time in their houses by themselves, they never get a break, they don't have money to hire help or to fund outside activities, that there's chaos frequently, that they have to be everything (teacher, psychiatrist, chauffeur, etc), that their children have special needs that require a lot of time and effort to handle, that they don't understand a certain child...the list goes on.
One realization I had a few years back was that often, when homeschooling moms have an issue and they discuss it with each other, the answer is frequently some additional thing the mom should research or try to do. I remember a conversation with a mom trying to solve all my issues for me by suggesting thing after thing that I could do. The issue is - homeschooling moms don't need more to do! They need less to do!
I already had a tendency to maximize my time before children. I always had something to read with me. I would work on something during commercials while watching sports. Even when I had twin babies and a two year old and had to go out somewhere, I would STILL bring something to read or do with me, even though I didn't have a prayer of ever getting to any of it! I kept trying to get more out of my time so that I could do even a fraction of what was on my plate, when really I needed to do less. The last year of full homeschooling, as I pulled out of the driveway on my way to go teach, I heard the Alan Jackson song "It's Five o'clock Somewhere" with the line, "This lunch break is gonna take all afternoon" and it hit me that I had not planned a lunchtime for myself in my schedule! I had figured out when the children would eat, but not me.
Then it dawned on me that we have a word for that in English: workaholic. Because I didn't have a regular job, it never occurred to me that I didn't know how to take a break. I was never recharging myself! If you don't plug in your electronic device to charge, it will die and won't be able to do anything, and that was where I was headed. That day I forced myself to take a fifteen minute break to do nothing, and it was very difficult. I ended up calling my husband the last half of it.
However, the thing that concerns me the most after the discussion tonight was how many moms feel like they've lost themselves. I completely lost myself in the first nine years of homeschooling. I gave up everything I was interested in outside of my children, homeschooling, and parenting. Starting my first Books and Brownies blog in the summer of 2006 was the first step back to finding myself. Even the title was a step in that direction because I love books, and brownies, and alliteration. Because of all of the above issues: exhaustion, stress, lack of finances, long driving distance, no babysitters, etc., I never did things for myself. That was eight years ago, and I'm still recovering myself. I don't want to see this happen to other moms! There has to be more to your life than being a homeschooling mom.
Being a mother can be all-consuming. Being a homeschooling mom can be more so. Linguistically that makes no sense because if something is already all-consuming, it's consumed all and so there's no more to consume! It's easy to fall into because you are constantly surrounded by everything you need to do, every dish you need to wash, every child you need to spend time with, every piece of laundry you need to fold, every curriculum you need to research, every bed you need to make, every meal you have to cook, every subject you didn't manage to get to today...the list is endless.
In my last desperate attempts at trying to make homeschooling work, I seriously considered renting a house just for homeschooling, so I could achieve some separation in my worlds. My thought was that all our homeschooling things would be there and organized, we would get dressed, pack lunches, and go over there to do our work, and then come home when we were done. I still think the idea has merit even though it would be expensive. When we first started homeschooling, my oldest was friends with a boy who lived in a house that already had a wired workshop on the property, so they used that as their schoolhouse. When we moved into our house, it had four bedrooms plus a den, and at the time we only had three children, so we could have easily made a room our schoolroom. However, my husband wasn't in favor of that idea and I didn't insist, so our homeschooling materials were all over the house, which some would say integrates life and learning, which is true, but doesn't take into account a mother's need for some mental space!
I don't know what will come of the group that met tonight, or what schooling decisions we all will make for our families in the future. But I am elated that people are having this conversation and that there are moms willing to discuss the drawbacks of homeschooling, because I have met homeschooling families who will not admit that there actually are drawbacks! This attitude leaves moms feeling isolated and alone, like they must be doing it all wrong if they're not 100% ecstatic every day to be with their children. If we can have honest discussions about the difficult areas, we can begin to solve those issues so that homeschooling can be truly sustainable.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
A Little Light Reading
A few years ago (I could tell you exactly what year but I am a charter member of Recovering Perfectionists Anonymous - whoops!) I read a book called Popular Crime: Reflections on the Celebration of Violence by Bill James, which I found on the new book shelf at the library. Being consumed with stress, worry, and anxiety about teaching, parenting, and applying to grad school, I decided to reread the book as some "light reading."
If reading pages and pages and pages about serial killers doesn't distract you from your current worries, I don't know what will.
Of course then you have new worries.
Anyway, I remembered the book as being very well-written: clever, funny, with analysis of famous crimes in the past and comments on our judicial system, both past and present. However, I couldn't really remember the way the book ended, and I suspect that is why I wanted to reread it.
Now I know. For some reason, his editor let him endlessly write about serial killers, way beyond anyone's ability to take it anymore. At one point, he even comments that he will meet with his editor and decide which ones to take out later, but I am not convinced that meeting ever happened. What this section is missing is his analysis, and it becomes a little like looking at billboards along a highway from a speeding car. Each new paragraph is a billboard of yet another serial killer I've never heard of with a cursory summary of the crimes committed. I honestly didn't know there WERE that many! Like I said, new worries.
At the end of the serial killer section, he does give us some analysis on how these kinds of cases are solved, and that is interesting and worthwhile. By then I was feeling a little numb, however.
The best part of the end is the analysis of the JonBenet Ramsey case, which I paid no attention to as it was occurring, so I didn't know any of the details. It seems clear that the Ramseys were not involved and I hope someday they figure out who did it.
On the whole, worthwhile reading if you can stomach it. Oh, and Lizzie Borden? Innocent.
If reading pages and pages and pages about serial killers doesn't distract you from your current worries, I don't know what will.
Of course then you have new worries.
Anyway, I remembered the book as being very well-written: clever, funny, with analysis of famous crimes in the past and comments on our judicial system, both past and present. However, I couldn't really remember the way the book ended, and I suspect that is why I wanted to reread it.
Now I know. For some reason, his editor let him endlessly write about serial killers, way beyond anyone's ability to take it anymore. At one point, he even comments that he will meet with his editor and decide which ones to take out later, but I am not convinced that meeting ever happened. What this section is missing is his analysis, and it becomes a little like looking at billboards along a highway from a speeding car. Each new paragraph is a billboard of yet another serial killer I've never heard of with a cursory summary of the crimes committed. I honestly didn't know there WERE that many! Like I said, new worries.
At the end of the serial killer section, he does give us some analysis on how these kinds of cases are solved, and that is interesting and worthwhile. By then I was feeling a little numb, however.
The best part of the end is the analysis of the JonBenet Ramsey case, which I paid no attention to as it was occurring, so I didn't know any of the details. It seems clear that the Ramseys were not involved and I hope someday they figure out who did it.
On the whole, worthwhile reading if you can stomach it. Oh, and Lizzie Borden? Innocent.
Monday, November 11, 2013
The Next Step
Why did I take the GRE? Aside from the reason that anyone pays money and spends good time to be tortured by crazy standardized test questions...to go to graduate school. Specifically, in my case, because I want to get a PhD in how people learn languages. In some schools this specialization is in the education department, in others, the linguistics department, and other schools have a special second language studies department. It made figuring out which universities to apply to quite challenging!
Over the summer I narrowed it down to eight, then eliminated two of those, and now it's back up to eight because I added two different schools. The first four deadlines are the middle of December. All of these universities are significantly north of where I currently live - if you know me, you know I've been wanting to move north for quite a while!
I am currently trying to lock down my third recommendation, hopefully my thesis adviser from my MA program, and then I need to order a whole bunch of transcripts and start working on my personal statements. (Well, I already have a generic first draft, but it needs to be personalized for each school.) Yesterday I revised my resume, which I hadn't touched since 2010, so there was a lot to add.
All of this on top of teaching and taking care of six children! Why am I blogging?! I must go do some of this!
Hej då!
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Random Thoughts About the GRE
There's an odd symmetry here: I first took the GRE almost exactly twenty years ago.
However, now it's entirely different. In 1993, I took it on paper in a big lecture hall with a bunch of other people on the timer's schedule. In 2013, it's an adaptive, computer-based test that I took at my own pace (I skipped my ten minute break) at a cubicle with about five layers of security watching me. I had to wait about six weeks for my scores way back when, all the while having no idea how I did because it was the oddest standardized test I'd ever taken. Today, I got my scores as soon as I finished.
I was nervous/concerned about the reading comprehension parts, which I'd been having trouble with on the practice tests. But I studied and worked and kept practicing and got better. I was also nervous about the math. But I could tell myself, "You've always done well on standardized tests. Relax!" and I did, mostly. This made me feel lots of compassion for people who don't test well or have test anxiety. Each negative experience reinforces the anxiety about testing. I really wish high-stakes testing was not part of our culture!
The person who escorted me to my cubicle motioned towards headphones and said they were for noise. "Noise?" I thought. What noise? Umm, will there be four boys arguing in the background? Will a certain five year old be pitching his daily fit over nothing? Will the phone be ringing every five minutes with a telemarketer? Will Thor suddenly decide to chase Loki across the house, banging into things and knocking things down? Will daughters be interrupting me with urgent questions? Will the TV be blaring Pokémon in the background? No? Well then, there's no noise. Seriously? I think I can deal with hearing someone breathe and someone walk around to check I'm not cheating. Yeah, pretty sure.
In fact, taking the GRE was like taking a mini-vacation. Except my brain wasn't on vacation. But I could sit there and concentrate and no one would interrupt me unless the building was in flames. NO ONE! I'm sorry but, DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW NICE THAT IS???? I sat in that chair for 4 hours. It was lovely. Especially when the test adjusted and gave me an easier second math section. It's better when I can actually understand what the question is asking.
I was elated when I figured out that I had scored in the 99th percentile for the verbal section. I had a 45 minute drive home and the first twenty minutes I was all, "Hey! I'm done earlier than I thought! I could stop at Target and buy that stuff for school! I could get a treat! I could...." and then the fatigue hit and I thought, "I stilllll have to drrrrriiiiveee twen.....tyyyyyy more....whatever those things are called....minnnnnnutes....home...."
But when I got home, I had two treats waiting for me: Beowulf (oldest son) was on the phone and...Kriemhildsdotter had made me brownies!!!!
On to the next phase of applying to graduate school!
However, now it's entirely different. In 1993, I took it on paper in a big lecture hall with a bunch of other people on the timer's schedule. In 2013, it's an adaptive, computer-based test that I took at my own pace (I skipped my ten minute break) at a cubicle with about five layers of security watching me. I had to wait about six weeks for my scores way back when, all the while having no idea how I did because it was the oddest standardized test I'd ever taken. Today, I got my scores as soon as I finished.
I was nervous/concerned about the reading comprehension parts, which I'd been having trouble with on the practice tests. But I studied and worked and kept practicing and got better. I was also nervous about the math. But I could tell myself, "You've always done well on standardized tests. Relax!" and I did, mostly. This made me feel lots of compassion for people who don't test well or have test anxiety. Each negative experience reinforces the anxiety about testing. I really wish high-stakes testing was not part of our culture!
The person who escorted me to my cubicle motioned towards headphones and said they were for noise. "Noise?" I thought. What noise? Umm, will there be four boys arguing in the background? Will a certain five year old be pitching his daily fit over nothing? Will the phone be ringing every five minutes with a telemarketer? Will Thor suddenly decide to chase Loki across the house, banging into things and knocking things down? Will daughters be interrupting me with urgent questions? Will the TV be blaring Pokémon in the background? No? Well then, there's no noise. Seriously? I think I can deal with hearing someone breathe and someone walk around to check I'm not cheating. Yeah, pretty sure.
In fact, taking the GRE was like taking a mini-vacation. Except my brain wasn't on vacation. But I could sit there and concentrate and no one would interrupt me unless the building was in flames. NO ONE! I'm sorry but, DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW NICE THAT IS???? I sat in that chair for 4 hours. It was lovely. Especially when the test adjusted and gave me an easier second math section. It's better when I can actually understand what the question is asking.
I was elated when I figured out that I had scored in the 99th percentile for the verbal section. I had a 45 minute drive home and the first twenty minutes I was all, "Hey! I'm done earlier than I thought! I could stop at Target and buy that stuff for school! I could get a treat! I could...." and then the fatigue hit and I thought, "I stilllll have to drrrrriiiiveee twen.....tyyyyyy more....whatever those things are called....minnnnnnutes....home...."
But when I got home, I had two treats waiting for me: Beowulf (oldest son) was on the phone and...Kriemhildsdotter had made me brownies!!!!
On to the next phase of applying to graduate school!
Sunday, July 14, 2013
A Norse Crossword
Thursday, June 13, 2013
52 Books 2013 - Young Adult Fiction
I'm doing really well this year with my goal of reading at least 52 books! If you've talked to me since 2010, you know that I tend to überobsess about it. I did not reach my goal in 2011 and have vowed to never let that happen again.
So far in 2013 I have read 41, 22 of which were fiction. That is really good for me, since I tend to overdose on depressing non-fiction. I've even read a couple new young adult novels because they sounded interesting.
Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver sounded like a version of the Bill Murray movie Groundhog Day and the description intrigued me. I would sum it up as:
Mean Girl gets a clue while reliving her death day seven times and realizing that everybody has reasons and everything you do has consequences, surrounded by enough teen angst, sex, and drug use to make up several modern Rebel Without a Cause spinoffs.
It's a first novel, and I think it was a good premise, but it could have used a bit more fleshing out while simultaneously being edited. What I didn't like about it was how steeped in relative morality it seemed . We find out why the Queen Mean Girl is the way she is, but she's now driven someone to contemplate suicide and made life hell for many others. The main character loves her, flaws and all, but as the reader, I don't. I'm pretty much appalled. And that makes me question the main character. Her sole motivation for actions appears to be fitting in and being popular, something else I've never understood. If I hadn't been in the mood for a distraction, I might not have finished this book, because it ran long and I wasn't sure it was going to get better enough to be worth it.
However, Every Day by David Levithan was so good I could hardly put it down! It also had an intriguing premise, but unlike Before I Fall, it was tightly constructed and kept me hooked. The idea is that A, the main character, wakes up in a different person's body each morning. A has learned how to live like that and manages until the day A falls in love with his host's girlfriend. What will happen? Can they find a way to be together? Read it and find out!
So far in 2013 I have read 41, 22 of which were fiction. That is really good for me, since I tend to overdose on depressing non-fiction. I've even read a couple new young adult novels because they sounded interesting.
Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver sounded like a version of the Bill Murray movie Groundhog Day and the description intrigued me. I would sum it up as:
Mean Girl gets a clue while reliving her death day seven times and realizing that everybody has reasons and everything you do has consequences, surrounded by enough teen angst, sex, and drug use to make up several modern Rebel Without a Cause spinoffs.
It's a first novel, and I think it was a good premise, but it could have used a bit more fleshing out while simultaneously being edited. What I didn't like about it was how steeped in relative morality it seemed . We find out why the Queen Mean Girl is the way she is, but she's now driven someone to contemplate suicide and made life hell for many others. The main character loves her, flaws and all, but as the reader, I don't. I'm pretty much appalled. And that makes me question the main character. Her sole motivation for actions appears to be fitting in and being popular, something else I've never understood. If I hadn't been in the mood for a distraction, I might not have finished this book, because it ran long and I wasn't sure it was going to get better enough to be worth it.
However, Every Day by David Levithan was so good I could hardly put it down! It also had an intriguing premise, but unlike Before I Fall, it was tightly constructed and kept me hooked. The idea is that A, the main character, wakes up in a different person's body each morning. A has learned how to live like that and manages until the day A falls in love with his host's girlfriend. What will happen? Can they find a way to be together? Read it and find out!
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Deeply Restorative
One phrase kept running through my mind: deeply restorative. It struck me as rather odd and so I kept mulling.
Being alone at home was deeply restorative.
And then I realized, if being home alone is deeply restorative, then there must be something that needs restoring, deeply.
What?
Or, should I say, who?
Since I finished graduate school in 1996 and became a stay-at-home mom to two children, and then a homeschooling mom a year later, I have had very little time at home by myself. As in, virtually none. Until this school year, the hours could probably be counted on one hand.
That's a long time to not be alone in one's own house!
Have I mentioned that I'm an introvert?
I also rarely went out alone for many years.
In 2008, the year my youngest was born, my oldest left for college and my next oldest was not yet old enough to babysit. That year I took six children with me everywhere I went, four of them five and under. I still have some form of "PTSD" when I'm out and see a mom with several little children. I recently had to leave the library because a newborn was crying inconsolably and it was making me anxious and upset.
Understandably, I was rather excited one day about a month ago when I got the opportunity to be home for nearly three hours by myself. I ate lunch and organized my closet, but also chatted with Beowulf via Facebook and spent some time online. As my time ended, I felt that, while it had been wonderful to actually do a task with no interruptions, I hadn't really been alone because of being on the computer.
That was a dry run for a day the following week, when I got the chance to spend the entire school day at home by myself. An absolutely delicious six hours, which probably doubled the amount of time I'd ever been home by myself. I did whatever I felt like doing, including watching a German movie I'd had from Netflix for a while. I did not really spend any time online. And it was...
Deeply restorative.
Restorative: adj. 1) serving to restore; pertaining to restoration. 2) capable of renewing health or strength.
Restore: v. 1) to bring back into existence, use, or the like; reestablish. 2) to bring back to a former, original, or normal condition. 3) to bring back to a state of health, soundness, or vigor.
Restoration: n. 1) the act of restoring; renewal, revival, or reestablishment. 2) the state or fact of being restored. 3) a return of something to a former, original, normal, or unimpaired condition. 4) restitution of something taken away or lost. *
We stopped homeschooling as a way of life this year because I was incredibly burned out. When I got to the point of not even wanting to think about homeschooling, I knew it was time. But what I'm discovering is that the burnout didn't just concern homeschooling, and it didn't go away with putting the children in school. It has apparently extended to the practice of my Catholic faith, cooking, cleaning (all except decluttering, interestingly enough), laundry...
At the end of my day alone, I thought, "A thousand more days like that and I'll be good."
Three years alone to recover from seventeen years of intensive, all-consuming parenting and homeschooling? Sounds about right. It would be -
Deeply restorative.
* Definitions from dictionary.com. They are not complete; I only used what I felt applied.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Kattastrophe
There was quite an uproar by my daughters for my unoriginality in naming our cat Katt. My defense, that it was 12:30 am and I needed sleep, was not accepted. So then I joked that he could be Loki, since the dog is Thor. The girls actually liked that, because the dog and cat have an adversarial relationship anyway.
Of course, how much does it really matter, since I never blog about the cat...I mean, Loki...anyway?
Apparently it does matter to my daughters.
Of course, how much does it really matter, since I never blog about the cat...I mean, Loki...anyway?
Apparently it does matter to my daughters.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
The Naming Saga
On this blog, I have decided to give each of my family members Germanic or Scandinavian names. I love medieval German lit, so a lot of the names will come from those stories. However, at least two of my children and I love all things Scandinavian as well, so I decided not to limit the names to Germanic.
I took Kriemhild for myself because I love the Nibelungenlied. You may know her as the crazed vengeful lunatic she is commonly portrayed as in movies, but I've always been more sympathetic to her. Siegfried was her husband, her one true love whom she was determined to avenge, so my honey will of course be Siegfried. I'm going to enjoy calling him that!
Our oldest son was allowed to choose his own name, and he wants to be Beowulf. No surprise there.
I asked each of my daughters, and they have not given me any input.
I joked to younger daughter that I was going to call her Kriemhildsdotter (Kriemhild's daughter, a typical Scandinavian last name), because, honestly, she's been reading all about Scandinavian mythology and she can't come up with a name? Her response? "Just don't write about me for a while!"
Our older daughter hasn't made any suggestions either, but she's a ballet dancer, so I'm going to call her Isolde. I'm not sure if there's ever been a ballet about Tristan and Isolde, but it could be really beautiful if there were one. And yes, Isolde did some regrettable things, but it was all the love-potion's fault! (Or the meddling mother's fault, but I'm going to go with love potion.)
As for the four younger boys, I've decided to go ahead and give them all names of Knights of the Round Table. Not Germanic, you think? Think again! Many of the medieval Germanic works are Arthurian in origin, and came to the German through French translations.
Oldest younger boy: Gawan. In English, he's known as Gawain, but Gawan is the German spelling. One of my books calls him "the paragon of Arthurian knighthood." This boy has always loved knights and castles and was at one point hoping to be a knight when he grows up (and perhaps still is hoping that).
Twin A and Twin B: Erec and Iwein. I was tempted to name them after Parzival and Condwiramurs' twins, but thought I would soon tire of typing Loherangrin and Kardeiz. Also, Erec and Iwein were both written by Hartmann von Aue, so those names are fitting for twins. Plus, well, I'll explain that reason next.
Youngest boy: Parzival. I wanted to use this name for the youngest, because he is an extreme mama's boy, and Parzival's mother Herzeloyde raises him in the woods away from all other humans so that he won't know anything of knights, because his father was treacherously killed. Of course this totally backfires when he comes across some knights and is fascinated and decides to leave the forest so he can be like them. Hopefully this will not happen here! So you can see that calling the twins Parzival's sons' names would have been, well, awkward, although I'm sure that my youngest would have loved to order them around like he was their father (oh wait, he already does).
As for the dog, I think Thor, Dog of Thunder, will suffice. The cat can be Katt (Swedish for cat), unless I think of something better later.
Off to reread some German medieval lit! Forgot how much I liked this stuff! Or sleep, yeah, sleep would be good...
I took Kriemhild for myself because I love the Nibelungenlied. You may know her as the crazed vengeful lunatic she is commonly portrayed as in movies, but I've always been more sympathetic to her. Siegfried was her husband, her one true love whom she was determined to avenge, so my honey will of course be Siegfried. I'm going to enjoy calling him that!
Our oldest son was allowed to choose his own name, and he wants to be Beowulf. No surprise there.
I asked each of my daughters, and they have not given me any input.
I joked to younger daughter that I was going to call her Kriemhildsdotter (Kriemhild's daughter, a typical Scandinavian last name), because, honestly, she's been reading all about Scandinavian mythology and she can't come up with a name? Her response? "Just don't write about me for a while!"
Our older daughter hasn't made any suggestions either, but she's a ballet dancer, so I'm going to call her Isolde. I'm not sure if there's ever been a ballet about Tristan and Isolde, but it could be really beautiful if there were one. And yes, Isolde did some regrettable things, but it was all the love-potion's fault! (Or the meddling mother's fault, but I'm going to go with love potion.)
As for the four younger boys, I've decided to go ahead and give them all names of Knights of the Round Table. Not Germanic, you think? Think again! Many of the medieval Germanic works are Arthurian in origin, and came to the German through French translations.
Oldest younger boy: Gawan. In English, he's known as Gawain, but Gawan is the German spelling. One of my books calls him "the paragon of Arthurian knighthood." This boy has always loved knights and castles and was at one point hoping to be a knight when he grows up (and perhaps still is hoping that).
Twin A and Twin B: Erec and Iwein. I was tempted to name them after Parzival and Condwiramurs' twins, but thought I would soon tire of typing Loherangrin and Kardeiz. Also, Erec and Iwein were both written by Hartmann von Aue, so those names are fitting for twins. Plus, well, I'll explain that reason next.
Youngest boy: Parzival. I wanted to use this name for the youngest, because he is an extreme mama's boy, and Parzival's mother Herzeloyde raises him in the woods away from all other humans so that he won't know anything of knights, because his father was treacherously killed. Of course this totally backfires when he comes across some knights and is fascinated and decides to leave the forest so he can be like them. Hopefully this will not happen here! So you can see that calling the twins Parzival's sons' names would have been, well, awkward, although I'm sure that my youngest would have loved to order them around like he was their father (oh wait, he already does).
As for the dog, I think Thor, Dog of Thunder, will suffice. The cat can be Katt (Swedish for cat), unless I think of something better later.
Off to reread some German medieval lit! Forgot how much I liked this stuff! Or sleep, yeah, sleep would be good...
Friday, April 12, 2013
A Welcome in Any Language Would Sound as Sweet!
Willkommen! ¡Bienvenido! Välkommen! Bienvenue!
Welcome to Books and Brownies, an alliterative title that summarizes my two favorite things! Life is going a million miles a minute for me here - but I'll try to post about it when I can!
Welcome to Books and Brownies, an alliterative title that summarizes my two favorite things! Life is going a million miles a minute for me here - but I'll try to post about it when I can!
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