Altered states

I have just posted a Note to my Facebook account about unschooling and food, caffeine, and alcohol consumption. If you are not one of my Facebook friends and would like to view the post, send me a friend request or send me e-mail at ronniem65 at hotmail dot com.

Altered States Note
Ronnie's FB profile

Friday fill-in

1. I'm here, I'm present, I am in the moment.

2. Why do I have the freedom to sleep in and not any ability to take advantage of it.

3. How does this feather duster work, anyway?

4. Every morning, I put eyeglasses on my face.

5. I consider myself lucky because of everything! Life is so good.

6. One day all too soon we’ll see who is right about global warming.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to getting to bed early, tomorrow my plans include having fun with the amazing women I live with, and Sunday, I want to feel free and happy and productive!

Muffled enthusiasm

Two teachers today prefaced questions to the class with a variation of "Can somebody not Chloe tell me..."

We think "Somebody Not Chloe" sounds like a good name for a rock band.

Featured reading

Check out this brilliant post by Holly over at Unschool Days.

Not enough words... or too many?

In science class today, Chloe's teacher described some rocks as "non-native" and asked if anyone knew what that word meant. Trying to give someone else a chance to answer, Chloe at first didn't put up her hand. No one else volunteered, so the teacher turned it around: "Okay, how about 'native'?" Still no response. Chloe finally raised her hand, and the teacher called on her.

"Indigenous," said Chloe.

"Yeees," replied the teacher. "But I was looking for something simpler."

It only takes one

I borrowed this from Kelly.

1. Where is your cell phone? sofa
2. Your significant other? surfing
3. Your hair? unpredictable
4. Your mother? roadtripping
5. Your father? unique
6. Your favorite thing? loves
7. Your dream last night? forgotten
8. Your favorite drink? handy
9. Your dream/goal? now
10. What room you are in? nook
11. Your hobby? change
12. Your fear? loss
13. Regrets? old
14. Where were you last night? dreaming
15. 15? missing
16. Muffins? sure
17. Wish list item? secret
18. Where you grew up? nearby
19. Last thing you did? blog
20. What are you wearing? layers
21. Your TV? busy
22. Your pets? deceased
23. Friends? priceless
24. Your life? amazing
25. Your mood? buoyant
26. Missing someone? periodically
27. Car? fast
28. Something you're not wearing? cufflinks
29. Your favorite store? affordable
30. Your favorite color? bright
33. When is the last time you laughed? earlier
34. Last time you cried? Oscars
35. Who will resend this? unnecessary
36. One place that I go to over and over? Mom's
37. One person who emails me regularly? Steph
38. My favorite place to eat? Romio's
39. Why you participated in this survey? intrigue
40. What are you doing tonight? stalling

Happily hooked

Ginger and Alex both tagged me for this one. Thanks, guys!

Here are six things that add to my joy and happiness.


1. Let's just get the biggest and most obvious ones out of the way: my family, my friends, unschooling. There.

2. The woods. Beaches, mountains, plains, and deserts are all well and good, but for me, it's the woods. There's nowhere I feel more at ease.

3. Words. Whether written, spoken, or sung, words have more power to move me than any other medium. And writing my own words gives me purpose and peace.

4. Children's laughter. Sometimes it seems like I took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Wasn't it my destiny to be surrounded daily by the laughter of children rather than the hum of computers? Maybe it still is...

5. Sunshine on my shoulders. Or on any other part of me for that matter. The world is both literally and figuratively brighter when the sun shines.

6. Carbohydrates. MJ nailed this one. Pasta, bread, rice, potatoes, cereal. Yum! Meals and life are just a little better with carbs.

I hereby pass this award, without obligation, to each of the bloggers listed in my sidebar. You wouldn't be there if I weren't hooked on your blog!

Quote of the day

School is the advertising agency which makes you believe that you need the society as it is.
—Ivan Illich, Deschooling Society

Passion plays

Truth:
The way our kids spend their time,
no matter how they spend their time,
is fine and valuable and educational and right.

This truth is one of the single hardest things for parents to wrap their brains around. It is also the thing that, once grasped, moves people from playing at unschooling to really doing it.

I grasped it long ago. I preach it. But that doesn’t mean it’s always easy to live it. From our early deschooling to the present, my big struggle has been with Keeping My Mouth Shut when I can’t immediately see the value in my daughters’ chosen activities. The traditional parenting and schooling voices in my head are annoyingly loud, even now, which leads to ferocious little internal dialogs that would no doubt cause a psychiatrist deep concern. But I do my best to keep the struggle internal and just trust.

Sometimes that’s easier than others. For example, they’ve both had more traditionally academic interests over the years. It’s very soothing when that happens, and supporting them is a no-brainer. You’re writing a book? Great! You’re reading Shakespeare? Great! Is that Dante? Great! You want a sociology textbook? Great! You want to talk about math? Great!

For other interests, the educational value hasn’t been immediately apparent, but I have been quickly rewarded for supporting them. Chloe’s passion for anime and manga is a case in point. If a girl hugs him, he turns into a cat? Okaaaay. I didn’t get it, but I was able to keep quiet and see where it took us. And our house was suddenly bursting with history, art, Japanese, mythology, video editing, world music, and more.

But what about those times when the payoff is not so apparent?

Last year, Chloe had a long (long!) stretch of immersing herself in "Buffy." She spent her days and nights in Sunnydale, and just about everything she said related back to Buffy or Angel in some way. (It became a game: we'd toss out subjects to see if she could link them back to Joss Whedon's scary little world. She usually could.) Her interest went on long enough that I started to be concerned, with nasty words like "obsession" popping into my head. What do I do? I wondered.

And then it stopped. Just like that. Oh, she's still a huge fan, but she got out of it whatever she was looking for (I’m still not sure what that was) and moved on to other things. My job in the interim was to listen, participate as best I could, and otherwise stay out of her way.

Another recent example is MJ's current interest in the poetry of E. E. Cummings. She spends hours reading and copying out his poems. She’s reading voluntarily poetry most teens would have to be browbeaten into reading, I thought at first. How cool is that?

But this interest has continued for a few weeks now, leading to one of those internal dialogs:

E. E. Cummings? Still? Who besides a lit major spends weeks on a single poet?

Well, maybe she is a lit major.

Good point.

And then MJ confided her actual purpose in reading all that E. E. Cummings, and it's so much more clever and original than I could have imagined. I feel ashamed of the box I tried to put her in.

It can be all too temptingly easy to judge. And our judgments are so, SO subjective. I imagine some parents would find all of the reading and writing my kids do as much a waste of time as anything. There's no money in poetry, after all. (Hmm. There is money in video games. Maybe I should be forcing my kids to play more video games.)

But here's the thing: The value of our kids’ interests can’t be judged by anyone but our kids themselves. Only they know what they’re getting out of them, what thoughts and dreams they are inspiring, and how they are interrelated. And even they cannot fully predict where those interests will lead them.

"Everything counts," we say. But how do we know? How can we be sure?

Well, what kind of proof are you looking for? Test results? Laurels and accolades? Successful careers? Wealth at retirement?

For us, the proof is in our kids' bright eyes and happy smiles. It's in their quiet (and sometimes not so quiet) pride in their own accomplishments. It's in the ways they amaze us, every day, with their knowledge and wisdom, their creativity and kindness.

Isn't that proof enough?

I'm a mom and this is a meme

Answers by MJ, 16

1. What is something your mom always says to you? "I love you"

2. What makes your mom happy? "books and clean houses"

3. What makes your mom sad? "messy houses"

4. How does your mom make you laugh? "she's funny - playing around"

5. What did your mom like to do when she was a child? "go to her grandma's"

6. How old is your mom? "43...? Yes, 43."

7. How tall is your mom? "5'6""

8. What is her favorite thing to do? "be with me"

9. What does your mom do when you're not around? "gets on the Internet and reads"

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? "writing"

11. What is your mom really good at? "lots of stuff"

12. What is your mom not very good at? "lots of stuff" (and then she chortles)

13. What does your mom do for her job? "she writes Help files for cash registers -- 'cause cash registers need help, too, dammit"

14. What is your mom's favorite food? "carbohydrates"

15. What makes you proud of your mom? "She's like a kingpin in the unschooling community." (and then Chloe says, "Kingpin?!" "It's a good word, okay?")

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be? "CoCo from Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends"

17. What do you and your mom do together? "we drive and go shopping and read and travel"

18. How are you and your mom the same? "we're both stubborn"

19. How are you and your mom different? "I'm cooler"

20. How do you know your mom loves you? "''cause she laughs when I say I'm cooler, and she doesn't beat me"

21. What does your mom like most about your dad? "he's a goofy goober"

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go? "traveling places, unschooling conferences"

Another quote of the day

The first time her laughter
unfurled its wings in the wind,
we knew that
the world would never be the same.

- Brian Andreas, 'Story People'

Quote of the day

She seems to be telling the truth, helplessly.
- Jonathan Lethem
(in regard to I Was Told There'd Be Cake)

On top of Old Paper

I'm taking a little break from handling the minutiae of our lives. Funny how gigantic a pile of paper one can end up with if the minutiae aren't beaten back with some regularity.

Yesterday, we finished converting our homeschool room (the dining room) into our music room slash homeschool room. Most of the furnishings and all of the way-cool shelves for books and crafts are still there, but we cleaned out a bunch of stuff and rearranged what was left to make room for amps, guitars, drums, and keyboard. I think it looks really neat, Frank is beside himself with joy, and we're all having fun with it already.

Now that the amps are no longer in the middle of the living room, I've filled it up with our big folding table and the mountain of paper I've been tweeting about. Frank helped me build it. It seems like we gathered piles of paper from all over the house.

My next step was to work out a system: what gets kept, what gets tossed, what goes where. Mine owes a lot to Getting Things Done, but the biggest help has been my shiny new ruthlessness about throwing things away. I have Major Issues with throwing things away. Major. But today, I've been doing it. The mountain is down to several discreet molehills:

• Tax Paperwork
• Bills to Be Paid
• Items for the Safe Deposit Box
• Memorabilia
• Stuff for Other Family Members to Worry About
• Little Scraps of Paper Bearing Addresses and Phone Numbers That I Should Probably Throw Away But Can't

Progress!

Friday fill-in

1. Give me paper and pen and I'll give you words. Or at least doodles.

2. Whenever I get around to it, it'll be done right.

3. I wish the brownies would come.

4. Pork chops a lá Frank was the last thing I ate that was utterly delicious.

5. To live in this world is better than the alternative. ;-)

6. Other than this one, Dancing Chickens is the last blog I commented on. Or maybe CenterDownHome.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to enjoying our new music room and watching the Psych season finale, tomorrow my plans include something wonderful but as yet undetermined, and Sunday, I want to be able to say, "The taxes are done!" (Yes, this is different from actually wanting to do the taxes, but I'll take my motivation where I find it.)

Do you suppose...

...I could spend the entire day on the Internet and not even notice the passing of the time? I bet I could. But I won't. Probably.

An unschooler in school

When Chloe told us she wanted to go back to school, my reaction was mostly fear. I worried that she would be devastated by social crap and brainwashed by the school mentality, and that our unschooling lifestyle would be sacrificed on the Temple of Doom. (That's a bit of an exaggeration but not much.) I did my best to squash the worry in lieu of squashing her, but there can be no doubt that she was aware that Mom Did Not Approve.

I'm sitting here wishing I could go back in time and tell myself to shut the hell up. The experience so far has been entirely positive (except for waking up at 6:30!) and so much a continuation of our beloved unschooling lifestyle that I can hardly believe it. We have all learned SO much!

There was the day that Chloe expressed irritation because she was being required to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance. She didn't mind the "stand" part of that as much as the "required" part, so we did some e-research, found state law on the subject (which says only that students who do not participate in the pledge should be quiet), and discussed ways of making it clear to the requiring teacher. I gave her a copy of the relevant RCW section, and Steph sent us a truly beautiful excerpt from the Barnette decision, which includes this gem:

If there is any fixed star in our constitutional constellation, it is that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein. If there are any circumstances which permit an exception, they do not now occur to us.

Chloe decided she wanted to talk to her teacher herself and we left it in her capable hands. She went in the next day and simply remained seated during the pledge. The teacher did not complain, and Chloe was able to mentally amend the teacher's spoken "everybody stand" to the "everybody who chooses to, please stand" that it should have been.

Her English teacher has been doing a long (3 weeks plus!) unit on the Holocaust, purportedly to provide context for their eventual reading of The Diary of Anne Frank. We've had discussions about why an English teacher might decide to teach history instead. They have been at least as interesting as Chloe's Holocaust research and have led to discussions about religion, propaganda, the appropriateness of compassion for oppressed people, and more.

We've had conversations about the pressures that schooled kids are under; the ways that unschoolers are free from or share the pressures; the openness of unschoolers as opposed to the social caution of schooled kids; the reasons it might take longer to form friendships at school versus your average unschooler gathering; and the possibilities that kids both schooled and unschooled see, how those possibilities are often nay-sayed by adults, and what might happen if those possibilities were instead greeted by simple acceptance as possibilities.

She's discovered that most of what we've been telling her about school for the past six years is true: she's well-suited to do well academically, she hasn't been falling behind, kids who are in school because they choose to be have a lot more fun and get a lot more out of it. And she's learned that Mom's fears about school were (way) excessive but based in reality.

And finally, she's learning a lot about herself. These discoveries are her business, so I won't go into detail, but they are all very positive, and her self-esteem seems stronger than ever.

In short, my advice about handling unschooler requests to go to school is to stay calm. Certainly explore other ways of resolving any needs underlying the request (more social time? more structure? more variety?), but don't fear school. It is just another path for your child to lead you down, just another interest to follow, just another resource to explore. And it's a damn fine strewing machine.

Some people go all hardcore and say that a kid in school is no longer an unschooler. Our experience says otherwise.

(For additional posts about Chloe's experiences in school, click the "school" label below.)

I love this site

Thanks to Kevin Fuller for bringing this one to my attention:

Overheard Everywhere

The Doings Report

I suppose my primary activity in the past couple of weeks has been stewing, in a good way, about what comes next. Whatever that is, I would like to choose it instead of being steered into it, so I've been doing some assessment of my inclinations, my options, our family budget, and so on. I have no firm conclusions to report, except that I will be quite content if the default path of returning to contracting is where I end up. My fantasy ideal is probably a series of shorter-term contracts with breaks in between. My pipe-dream ideal is these contracts would pay as well as full-time work. Hey, a girl can dream!

In and around these contemplations, I have been reading, writing fiction, watching NCIS reruns, playing Rock Band, learning the intricacies of facebook, and hanging out with my peeps.

Frank's days are all about music, music, music. He has been playing a lot, on various instruments, and sometimes walks around the house singing along to the songs on his MP3 player. It's very fun to be thus entertained, although I am already pretty tired of our talent show selection. He also likes to fantasy shop for amps and instruments on eBay and other sites. This causes me mild stress, because I would of course like him to be able to buy all the toys he wants. But this has long been a difference between us: fantasy shopping does not make him feel deprived and anxious as it does me.

In addition to MJ's guitar practice time, she has had some visits with Grandma and various cousins, is writing in about five different notebooks and her journal, and is still immersed in the works of select poets. She's also been working some, babysitting, and, with some of her earnings, dragged invited Chloe to the mall and a showing of Coraline.

Last week, MJ had a consult with an orthodontist. She is later to do this than many kids, first because she didn't want braces at the usual age and then because certain events and her parents' inertia caused delay. But it seems like the planets have aligned now. Doc says she needs moderate correction, and that it will be closer to a two-year treatment than the three-year span some people face.

Chloe is feeling some frustration with school, although (or perhaps partly because) the work continues to pose no difficulty. Fortunately, she's on mid-winter break right now (a five-day weekend) and is very much enjoying the reprieve from getting up at 6:30. In her much-treasured free time, she has been spending lots of time in her "bat cave" (her room). I'm not entirely sure how she spends her time in there, except that we hear occasional gales of laughter.

Our hibernation month continues, although we have perhaps been less isolated than Frank and I might have chosen. The kids don't share our desire for quiet time, so we've had some visitors and helped with some social outings in the spirit of compromise. They've made some similar concessions, and it seems to be working out pretty well. We're enjoying it while we can: we already have some plans for March and April, and in May, things get downright busy again and will continue so through the summer.

My worries, your worries

I am prone (or habituated) to worry. When my chicks are out of the nest, I worry quite a lot. That's probably the extreme case. But I worry about lots of other stuff, too. My friend Steph calls it fussing, and I do a fair amount of it.

However, I don't like what worry does to me. It takes me out of the now and keeps me from enjoying it. It distances me from my family. So, I try to put some effort into turning worry off. It's not as easy, unfortunately, as flipping a switch, but I can get there. I can smoosh the worries into a closet and live life without them.

A good example was when MJ spent those weeks in California at Harper's. I knew she was safe, I knew she was happy, I knew she was really enjoying being independent, and I knew she didn't particularly want a lot of contact with home while she was immersed in away-from-home. So, I commenced enjoyment of the unique opportunity to have a family of three. Chloe and Frank and I got into a rhythm (at least until Marty got sick), and it was fun, and we got the very occasional update from MJ. Great!

And then someone would ask me about MJ.

"How is she spending her time?"
Beats me.

"Is she feeling better?"
Umm, was she sick?

Truly, I had very little idea. And that was okay with me. My worries were in the closet, and I had a made a deliberate choice to respect her privacy and give her space. But nevertheless, the questions would knock me for a loop—shouldn't I know what she had been up to? shouldn't I know that she'd had a cold?—and I'd have to start all over again.

She's safe, she's happy, she's enjoying being independent, etc...

Stuff the worries back in the closet...

Laboriously flip the worry switch back to Off...

It's not an effortless process for me. I think this is why I have been so reluctant to talk about my job search. I am not worrying about it, and I'd like to keep it that way. Battling the what-ifs is exhausting, discouraging, depressing, and completely, utterly counterproductive.

I know people ask questions because they care, because they're interested, because they want to be reassured. I get it. I do the same thing to Frank and my kids and no doubt many others. But it really isn't the kind thing to do, is it?

Years ago, when Frank's mom died, an acquaintance called to offer her condolences and insisted on talking to Frank even though I had told her plainly that he didn't want to talk to anyone. Who did she think she was helping there? Certainly not Frank!

I think this is similar. When you share your worries with me about the situation I am in, or ask me to reassure you, how can it possibly help me?

To express support, say, "I'm thinking about you." To show your love, say, "I love you!" To help, send me a joke or a job listing. If you're curious about my job search, well, too bad. I'm not telling.

But if what you want is a little reassurance, come here and read this:
We are okay. We are used to being between jobs. This is nothing new. Work always becomes available within a couple months. If it takes longer this time, we will be okay. If it takes a really long time this time, we will still be okay. Life may change, but it will still be good.

A little plug

One of my cousins is a photographer here in the greater Seattle area. He does portraits and special occasions of all kinds, but his wedding photos are really something special. He also is kind enough to share his knowledge with the rest of us.

Here are Cory's Web sites:
Cory Parris Photography
Blog with samples and photography tips

Friday fill-in

1. It seems like time is running out. But that's awfully pessimistic.

2. Please, will you please put it away, please, when you're done, please?

3. If I thought you thought I thought that, I'd think you'd think again!

4. What you think of me is what I think of most when I think of you. I wish that weren't so.

5. To me, Valentine's Day means obligation.

6. The unschooling community gives me strength.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to Psych, tomorrow my plans include a blissful lack of plans, and Sunday, I want to relax, chill, and chillax!

ALABBD: It floats!

Clearly my need for whining is not on a 28-day cycle. I awoke this morning feeling lighter, optimistic, creative, even inspired. Since the True Spirit of ALABBD is allowing myself a day for doing just whatever I want, a lá Audrey's princess, I am certainly not going to whine when I don't feel like it.

Instead, I turn just a bit of my newfound creative energies to the restructuring of Act Like a Big Baby Day. As originally scheduled, it was to take place on the second Friday of each month. I hereby grant to myself and to all of you a new ALABBD schedule: whenever we damn well need it.

Feeling tired, cranky, and put upon? Pout, stomp your feet, and put yourself down for a nap. Hormones got the best of you? Set up the red tent, cozy down with a good book, and just be. Tired of being fair and balanced? Spew a little venom on your blog.

It's allowed! It's ALABBD!

Obligatory post

It's Thursday. I should be doing a 13.

I just realized I forgot all about Act Like a Big Baby Day in January. Does that mean I get two of them this month? (The first one is tomorrow, in case anybody wants to join me.)

This new space of mine at work is almost too quiet. But not really. I'm still adjusting to the lack of quiet that comes with being home more.

Hugs to Idzie and her family.

Happy Birthday, Abe and Darwin.

Cheers to everybody else.

More happy belly times

...because Ginger told me to. :-)

1. WAS YOUR SECOND PREGNANCY PLANNED?
Wellll, we were planning another baby. Just maybe not right that minute. MJ was only nine months old!

2. WERE YOU MARRIED AT THE TIME?
Yes. Wouldn't have cared if I weren't.

3. WHAT WERE YOUR REACTIONS?
Shock. Concern. Then pure joy.

4. HOW OLD WERE YOU?
28.

5. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT?
I was at the doctor for some other reason. As an afterthought, I said, "I've also been feeling a little queasy, kind of like I felt when I was pregnant." Hmmm.

6. WHO DID YOU TELL FIRST?
Frank. We got into the shower together to contemplate our new circumstances.

7. DUE DATE?
March 6th, I think. But I just knew she was going to arrive in February.

You remember how sure I was that MJ was a boy? Right.

8. ACTUAL DATE BABY WAS BORN?
March 11th.

9. DID YOU HAVE MORNING SICKNESS?
Every damn day for more than two months. Then I felt like Superwoman.

10. WHAT DID YOU CRAVE?
Hmm. Sleep mostly.

11. WHO/WHAT IRRITATED YOU THE MOST?
Working.

12. WHAT WAS YOUR SECOND CHILD'S SEX?
Girl.

13. DID YOU WISH YOU HAD THE OPPOSITE SEX OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING?
Not even a little bit.

14. HOW MANY POUNDS DID YOU GAIN THROUGHOUT THE PREGNANCY?
I have no idea. Not so much that it was a problem, not so little that it didn't show.

15. DID YOU HAVE A BABY SHOWER?
Gawd, I don't even remember. That whole time is a sleep-deprived blur.

16. WAS IT A SURPRISE OR DID YOU KNOW?
n/a

17. DID YOU HAVE ANY COMPLICATIONS DURING YOUR PREGNANCY?
Not a one.

18. WHERE DID YOU GIVE BIRTH?
Group Health Hospital, Redmond, Washington

19. HOW MANY HOURS WERE YOU IN LABOR?
From the first twinges to the happy moment, 10 hours.

Favorite memory: Feeling those first contractions as I was tucking MJ into bed. Also, Frank's lack of concern when I told him I was having said contractions. He was quite sure we were at least 24 hours from actual delivery and went off to bed.

20. WHO DROVE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL?
Frank. "No, really, Frank, it's time to get up now."

21. WHO WATCHED YOU GIVE BIRTH?
Frank and Cherie, the midwife, and a platoon of medical people I was pretty much oblivious to.

22. WAS IT NATURAL OR C-SECTION?
Natural.

23. DID YOU TAKE MEDICINE TO EASE THE PAIN?
Yes, an injection of some narcotic that did little to ease the pain but a lot to interfere with my ability to cope with the pain. If anybody had told me how little time was actually left, I wouldn't have had it.

24. HOW MUCH DID YOUR CHILD WEIGH?
Ummm. A little under 7 lbs., I think.

25. WHEN WAS YOUR CHILD ACTUALLY BORN?
7:00 a.m. straight up

26. WHAT DID YOU NAME HIM/HER?
Chloe Barbara Pierce Maier

27. HOW OLD IS YOUR SECOND BORN TODAY?
Almost 15

Happy belly times

I stole this from Ginger's Facebook, not sure where she got it.

I love, love, LOVE talking about my pregnancies. I think a lot of women are like that. Hey, Mary, can I run a "Birth Stories" funshop at LIFE is Good?

As if I need more to do that weekend...

Anyway, here's the meme:

1. WAS YOUR FIRST PREGNANCY PLANNED?
Yes, but it was still a total surprise. I had been on the pill for a long time, went off in prep for pregnancy, then didn't think I was ovulating. Wrong!

2. WERE YOU MARRIED AT THE TIME?
Yes. Wouldn't have cared if I weren't.

3. WHAT WERE YOUR REACTIONS?
Disbelief. I did like Juno and drank gallons so I could take another pregnancy test. Then pure joy.

4. HOW OLD WERE YOU?
26

5. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT?
Ha. Funny story. I had been feeling totally crappy, to the point where it was affecting my work. My (female) manager eyeballed me and said, "Could you be pregnant?" "No," I said, laughing. Then I'm pretty sure my face froze. "Oh, wait..."

6. WHO DID YOU TELL FIRST?
A woman at work. I don't even remember her name now, or why she ended up knowing I was in the bathroom stall peeing on a stick. But she was technically first. Then I went home and told Frank.

7. DUE DATE?
September 10th. I didn't find out until after MJ was born, fortunately, that September 10th was the day the first Marjorie died.

8. ACTUAL DATE BABY WAS BORN?
September 15th.

9. DID YOU HAVE MORNING SICKNESS?
Every damn day for more than two months. Then I felt like Superwoman.

10. WHAT DID YOU CRAVE?
Hot and sour soup. Banana splits. Bananas. And later in the pregnancy, hamburgers. Jerry would buzz down to Ray's Drive-in for me almost every afternoon.

11. WHO/WHAT IRRITATED YOU THE MOST?
Chicken. I still occasionally have trouble with the smell of cooking chicken. Later, not sleeping irritated me the most.

12. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CHILD'S SEX?
Despite my complete certainty that it was a boy and the baby's pregnancy nickname of "Wolfgang," we had a girl.

Stephanie and me in unison in the birthing suite, crooning: "It's a giiiirrrrrlllll." We were all thrilled.

I still kind of miss the boy she wasn't, though. He was very real to me.

13. DID YOU WISH YOU HAD THE OPPOSITE SEX OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING?
Not even a little bit.

14. HOW MANY POUNDS DID YOU GAIN THROUGHOUT THE PREGNANCY?
I have no idea. Not so much that it was a problem, not so little that it didn't show.

15. DID YOU HAVE A BABY SHOWER?
Three of them: work, my side, Frank's side. Best quote, from Deb Maier's card to us after MJ was born: "For that rare flower in the Maier garden, a girl!"

16. WAS IT A SURPRISE OR DID YOU KNOW?
I knew about all 3 in advance.

17. DID YOU HAVE ANY COMPLICATIONS DURING YOUR PREGNANCY?
Tiny bit of early spotting, spent one day in bed being terrified. The cord was double-wrapped around her neck when she was born, but the midwife dealt with that so matter-of-factly that I was never worried.

18. WHERE DID YOU GIVE BIRTH?
Group Health Hospital, Redmond, Washington

19. HOW MANY HOURS WERE YOU IN LABOR?
From the first twinges to the happy moment, 36 hours.

Favorite memory: Frank and Jerry in our living room, timing my contractions with dueling G-Shock watches.

20. WHO DROVE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL?
Frank.

21. WHO WATCHED YOU GIVE BIRTH?
Frank, Mom, Steph, the midwife Linda, and a platoon of medical people I was pretty much oblivious to.

22. WAS IT NATURAL OR C-SECTION?
Natural.

23. DID YOU TAKE MEDICINE TO EASE THE PAIN?
No.

24. HOW MUCH DID YOUR CHILD WEIGH?
Ummm. Hmm, haven't had to pull that number from memory for a while. It was about 7 lbs., but I'd have to go look it up to get the exact weight.

25. WHEN WAS YOUR CHILD ACTUALLY BORN?
11:36 a.m. I can still picture the clock that was across from my bed.

26. WHAT DID YOU NAME HIM/HER?
Marjorie Caitlin Pierce Maier

27. HOW OLD IS YOUR FIRST BORN TODAY?
16

Quote of the day

School is not the only way to learn. It's just a tool
that you can use to learn with the appropriate motivation.
— Chloe Maier

Ready or not

After taking some time to process, I am now ready to let everybody know that my position at Microsoft was one of the 1400 that the company eliminated in late January.

I disagree with their decision at a philosophical level. With the current economy, I find it unconscionable for a company that has huge cash reserves and that is still making a substantial profit to eliminate jobs. It seems to me that they have contributed to the problem without even attempting to find other ways to lower operating expenses. And, judging by my coworkers' responses to my layoff (which ranged from bafflement, to outrage, to sobs, to one hugely generous offer to jobshare), the employees at the company are more than willing to tighten their belts. I think it's a shame Microsoft didn't give us the chance to try that first.

But that's business. At a personal level, I am certainly sad and stressed that my sweet job is going away. But we are okay. I get a good severance package, plus Microsoft offers lots of resources and networking to help me find a new job, perhaps even within the company.

And we have personal resources, too, not least of which is my comfort with a self-employed/contractor lifestyle. As many of you know, I was very happy as a contractor and took this "permanent" position only because it was Just Right. The agency I used to work through is optimistic about my prospects for finding something new quickly.

Strange as it sounds, one of the things I have been worried about most is telling people about this. I don't want sympathy. I don't want you to worry. Informed of these things, one friend came up with the perfect response:

Well shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

It made me laugh and spared me the burden of reassuring her that we are okay.

But we are. Frank and MJ and Chloe and I have taken a hard look at the worst-case scenario, and, honey, it just ain't that bad.

If and when there's more to tell, you will see it here. The earliest that I will start a new job is late March. In the meantime, I probably won't want to talk much about any interviews or prospects (unless it's that little fantasy of opening a dive shop on Grand Cayman), but you can rest assured that I am actively looking for work.

Too much for Twitter

I started tweeting and then realized I have several random things to say. I don't want to be like Stephen Fry and overtweet, so I'll just dump 'em all here. The first two are retweets, for the sake of posterity. (As if posterity will care.) The rest are new and happily not subject to a 140-character limit.

Feeling crabby for no good reason. Maybe mean, nasty, irritable Ronnie should go out for drinks with m.n.i. Laura...? (This is in response to a morning tweet from Laura warning us that m.n.i. Laura was pushing to get out.)

Chloe bought her bass. It's beautiful. But both girls have for the moment abandoned real guitars in favor of Rock Band. Go figure.

Frank had bridge prep done yesterday, so he is not a happy camper today. Going to the music store (normally a much loved outing) about did him in.

I should clarify: the Arizona house shopping Frank and I were doing was fantasy shopping. We have no serious plans to move, and if we did, I'm not sure we'd be homeowners. A more footloose lifestyle is attractive.

In related news, our tent trailer will be all paid off next month. We will never be homeless.

The neighbor girls came over to play with Chloe today. It's so sweet that they want to, and even sweeter that she goes along with it. She let them take their pick of some leftover Barbie stuff. Aside from a few treasured favorites and the bagful of good stuff we set aside for Effie, we are nearly Barbie-less. The end of an era indeed.

The clack of drumsticks on Rock Band drums is annoying. I'd much rather be listening to the real thing.

I want the Clean Sweep people to come and take care of my backyard. The heaps back there make me feel as trashy as they make our yard look.

I didn't go to the Goodwill today, and I really should have. The van is loaded with donations. Maybe it'll be doubly loaded by next Saturday.

The girls and I watched some Jay Walking and pseudo-Jay Walking videos this evening. People (presumably schooled people) didn't know who authored Romeo and Juliet, who bombed Pearl Harbor, whom the Palestinians are in conflict with, etc. WTF?!

Yes, my kids know those things. The one that stumped them and me was "Who was Beowulf's companion?" Frank would no doubt find our ignorance of that nearly as distressing as I found the others' ignorance of the "easier" questions.

P.S. Frank says Beowulf's pals were secondary and it wasn't a sensible question. We are redeemed. :-)

Compassion and fear

Where does compassion end?

I have an intellectual fondness for spiders. This fondess was born of respect and fascination: respect for what they do (spin webs, eat bugs (especially mosquitos!)) and fascination for the beautiful and clever ways in which they do it. In calm circumstances, I will go to some effort to rescue a spider from my house instead of killing it. I am a merciful spider relocator.

But when caught by surprise, such as this morning when I realized I was sharing my shower with one, my first reaction is fairly typical, squirmy, creeped-out, kill-that-thing-before-it-touches-me fear. Indeed, this morning, I stood aside so the spray could better reach that little sucker and wash it down the drain.

Fortunately, a calmer head prevailed, and the spider scurried behind the shower curtain where he was better protected. I regained my senses quickly with him out of sight at the opposite end of the tub, and when he ventured out again minutes later in search of even better shelter, I watched patiently to see if he could scale the tub on his own. No. When he began to look distressed from the spray, I grabbed a handy spider elevator (a scrub brush) and boosted him up to the rim, where he remained, curled up in a tired little ball, for long minutes until he realized he wasn't dead.

This aptly illustrates that compassion ends with fear. I can provide dozens of examples from world history, maybe even thousands. There are fewer examples of fear being controlled in order to restore compassion. I suppose it happens from time to time.

But today, I am more concerned with households. What fears have hold of you? How are they limiting your compassion for your kids?

Friday fill-in

1. Please don't tell Chloe Algebra is hard. She hasn't noticed.

2. Can you believe some people actually enjoy getting up early in the morning?

3. The color red makes me want to dance!

4. I have a craving for Arizona. Frank and I were pricing houses there yesterday. $50,000 for a 4-bedroom fixer-upper!

5. If my life had a pause button, I'd pause it frequently but judiciously.

6. Eyes are the most difficult thing about peeling potatoes.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to Psych, tomorrow my plans include peace and quiet, and Sunday, I want to putter productively without pressure!

One for the baby book

Chloe is considering buying a bass guitar. We offered to float her a loan for the purchase price, with her upcoming allowance withheld as payments. Chloe sat down to calculate how many weeks of allowance it would require. She used Algebra to figure it out.

(Ronnie wipes a sentimental tear from her eye.)

Ice man

This guy is in Chloe's drama class. He knows her name! This makes us practically celebrities, right?

It's the day...the music...died

Fifty years ago today, folks...

The Day the Music Died

I thought it was just me

Okay, so I know it's mostly people interested in good grammar and spelling who are reading this article on MSN about the stress of bad grammar and spelling, but I find myself more hopeful about the future of English after seeing these results from the Live Vote linked to the article:


Of course, there's no guarantee any of those people who are out there fighting the good fight are getting it right. :-)

Hard to figure

Chloe's Algebra homework today:

Overnight, a huge blizzard dumped 10 inches of snow on the ground. When the sun comes out, it melts the snow at a rate of about 1 inch per hour. Write an equation for the problem situation.

The equation is 10-1h=s. Then there's a table with h and s values for Chloe to calculate. One of the provided h values is -2. Her teacher instructed the class to fill in the s value of 12 in that row of the table.

The next question asks if an h value of -2 makes sense in the problem situation.

Her teacher instructed the class to answer "Yes."

Chloe couldn't understand why she would say that. We are equally stumped. Unless, of course, the reason is that it's easier for the teacher that way.

The Doings Report

We're all tucked into what Frank calls Maier Hibernation Month. He and I have actually been mostly hibernating since we got back from New Orleans (with some notable and very fun exceptions), as evidenced by my quiet blog. We're doing lots of internal processing right now, I think, and just being together.

The notable and very fun exceptions were a couple of impromptu gatherings and one...um...promptu one...? It started with STUN Friday, a Ninja and Samurai bowling event. We had thought it would be only a small group, but then Shonna, Matteo, Gemma, Gioia, Ali, and Viola flew (almost literally) down from BC in time for a game. Later, we met them (except Matteo who went home with the Boswells for some guy time) for pizza at a surprisingly crowded, don't-these-people-know-there's-a-recession? Alfy's. Service was slow, but the food was greeted by cheers and pretty good.

The next day, Shonna and company went to Margaret's unschooler gathering on the Eastside, which we decided to forego in favor of a quiet day. In the evening, everybody met up back at our place--Boswells, Bentleys, Morgans, and Maiers--the BM crew--oh, wait, reverse that!--until the older teens and Jordan headed off to see "Rise of the Lycans" and the Bentleys had to leave. The rest of us hung out while the twins played with toys (see, Frank, I save all that stuff for a reason!). Chloe did her best not to give anybody her four-days-in-school-and-she-already-has-a-cold germs. I hope she succeeded! And Frank worked a minor miracle and put together yummy and kid-friendly dinner for 8 with very little notice.

Yesterday, we had a Super day out at Mom's, eating WAY too much, watching the commercials, and half-heartedly rooting for the Cardinals, except for the last four minutes when they provided some damned exciting football. They have our sympathy on their loss, but that Steeler touchdown pass was a thing of beauty!

Backing up a bit, Chloe's school adventure is off to a reasonably good start. She's making friends, having no trouble with her schoolwork so far, and has come home with very little homework. Drama and guitar are by far the classes she's most excited about: she's doing improv and learning Malagueña. In Algebra, they're learning about linear equations and solving for x (which leaves me puzzled about what they studied in first semester). And in science, they're learning about climate. Hmm, I wonder if they'll ask Chloe to share primary-source stories about hurricanes.

Meanwhile, MJ has been immersed in the Complete Poems of E. E. Cummings, copying out the ones she likes and leaving one at the front door for Chloe every morning. Yeats is getting some attention, too, but she says she doesn't like him as much as Cummings. She's also composing a rather lengthy letter to Harper, who is at Camp Lejeune but doesn't yet have an assigned address and is not yet permitted access to his cellphone (?!). She has very much been enjoying the Xbox 360 and peripherals he handed down to her, especially Rock Band and Left 4 Dead.

Frank is playing and practicing music a lot, especially their LIFE is Good talent show selection, which I'm not sure I'm supposed to reveal.

And I'm working on a second talk for LIFE is Good but finding myself (relatively) wordless. I might do better after some more quiet time.