Happy Thanksgiving!

We just got back from a feast with some of our grad student friends (for 4 adults, 2 kids, we had an appetizer soup, a turkey, a duck, homemade noodles, creamed spinach, corn pudding, mashed potatoes, strawberry gelatin salad, stuffing, rolls, various sauces, and 2 pies with ice cream) and Harry said his first sentence! Matthew was wresting him, saying, "Harry, you're crazy" to which H responded, "No, I'm not." Go Harry. This is great to us b/c the pediatrician was concerned with his lack of speech, and referred us to a speech pathologist to have him evaluated. That appointment is Monday.

Anyway, last week we had a regular school day (9-12) along with a First Thanksgiving Feast with our homeschool co-op (called Pods), and I took the opportunity to document a little what we've been doing this semester. Here's the main classroom at the Barsotti's home (next semester it'll be at a different home):

I thought this shot captured a typical day - 2 moms whispering (Marisa Ridings and Amy Smith) behind a class going on in the dining room. . .

This is Harry's "class" the PeaPods. They spend an hour or so in this bedroom playing, play in the backyard for awhile, do crafts, puppets, sing songs. Janet Shuffield is their teacher, and her youngest (8, I think) is in the older class. Notice Harry's overalls that need Matthew's rubberband invention:

Jackson has 4 20-minute classes, Human Body (shown here with teacher Emily Plummer), Spanish, American History, & Calendar Time (during this time the oldest of his little class have Drawing with me, but J and another boy his age are pulled out for this with the other boy's mom); the rest of his time is spent in Recitation (hymns, scripture memory), 2 breaks and a review time:

Jackson's class, the Indians. Left to Right, Jackson, Roan, Greta, Mariah, Owen, Micah, and William in back:

The Upper Pod, dressed as Pilgrims:

Micah and Jackson at the Thanksgiving Feast. Unfortunately that feather boa and his costume coming off one shoulder give him a definite showgirl flair:

Harry as Squanto (the PeaPodders could be Indians or Pilgrims):

These are out of order, but now back to the school day. This is my Drawing Class, with the addition of Jackson and Owen, who normally have calendar time:
The Lower Pod, Greta, Owen, Mariah, Micah, Jackson - I had them saying "Indians!" hence the open mouths:

Jackson as Squanto (though I thought I made them look more like monks, except for the frilly feathers):

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!

Overalls keep falling down? Matthew'll fix it!

Another of Matthew's creative solutions. Please excuse my very dirty child and instead notice the rubberband on his back.

Happy Birthday Emily!!!

It's November 25th (well actually it's still the 24th but I needed to get this put together ahead of time) and that means it's Emily's birthday and nothing says "Happy Birthday!" like presents wrapped a-la-Big-Bill. Actually there are two presents wrapped in as close as I can get to authentic Big Bill style. If you're wondering what this style looks like...

Wait for it...

There it is! That ever allusive wrapping job of champions.

Happy Birthday, Em. I love you. J

On the way ... to bed

Tonight was a particularly fine example of the machinations Jackson has adopted in order to delay bedtime. On a night like tonight, when I'm tired and trying to remote control him to bed with verbal commands from the computer chair, he can be pretty effective. First, he was particularly attentive to detail in executing his one household chore that somehow got interpolated into our bedtime routine. While I did email, he made sure that every piece of silverware was in place and precisely aligned in its drawer. Ten minutes later he'd only placed half the utensils, but they were lovely. After I intervened as his utensil assistant, he finally scampered off to bed, but ran right back to show me the new way of running on his toes he'd just discovered. Wow! Like a sprinter! Amazing! Okay, back to bed. This time he ran right back to tell us he was uninterested in his room. You're uninterested in it? Yes, uninterested. Well, you still have to go to bed in it. After a short stint reading books in bed he had another idea. His leg hurts; it's a terrible pain, not on the surface; no one can even see it with a microscope! Fortunately, it was time for his medications (cold), and I assured him that their healing power extended to ailments invisible even to a microscope. So he's back in bed, for now. - Matthew

(John) Homer is 58 years young today!

Though he doesn't read the blog (I don't think so, anyway -- do they have access, Ruthie?), I wanted to semi-publicly wish my father a wonderful birthday on this 13th day of November. Hip hip hurray! (Hmm...perhaps I shouldn't use the word "hip" when referring to a 58th birthday, as I would hate to remind one of the likelihood of a hip fracture at such an advanced age. Hahaha! I jest, of course. Seriously, Dad, I'm kidding...sort of.)

Breakfast at Jackson and Harry's

Josh and Emily, Cody and Keri, here is the kind of morning discussion between siblings that you have to look forward to:

JRW: (mainly to himself) Harry, you're so, you're so...liquidy. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes...
SHW: No.
JRW: Yes.
SHW: NO!
JRW: YES!
SHW: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Daily Austin: Folk Hero Comes to Town

Well, Peter Yarrow decided to pay us a visit (he used the bookstore around the corner as his venue for a meet-up).

I forgot my camera, hence the bad cell phone pics. Jackson on stage, singing Puff the Magic Dragon:


Here Peter told all the kids to take a bow, and for some reason Jackson was the only one to do so or he was really early with it. . .

Peter did indulge in a political rant, as we suspected he would (Matthew had him pegged; before we arrived he predicted he'd place gay marriage among the most pressing civil rights issues of our day, and he did). He gave all the families w/ kids a copy of his book Puff the Magic Dragon (and yes, it is about drugs), and signed it to Jackson and Harry. And Matthew got one of his Peter, Paul, & Mary albums signed. A fun afternoon.

My Serious Sillyman

Dear Baby Boy,

You are 4. Oh no - starting to cry again. But before this week flies by I want to say a few things about who you are so that I don't forget. I'm not going to be able to capture you fully right now, as you are beautifully complex (I really do love that about you), but a few things on my mind right now. . .

You are conscientious and have a melancholy temperament, just like your Daddy and me. I just went to check on you, and saw that you had fallen asleep biting your nails. You and Daddy have an agreement that you can catch and reprimand each other for your nervous habits - his is pulling on the skin around his thumb. I often hear you saying under your breath to yourself, "Nope! Don't do it! Don't bite your nails!" Before bed you asked for something else to eat, and suspecting you weren't really hungry, I offered you a salad (you've recently declared, "I love salad!" and you did indeed eat a whole bowl), and while munching on that you asked, "How many years until we die?". Oh, Jackson, how serious you have always been. We, your parents, are serious folks ourselves, so I understand, & I pray that you will not be ruled by fear but be single-minded in the pursuit of God and the good of His Kingdom. I think He's going to answer that prayer.

You are not all seriousness, mind you. How you can be so contemplative and yet so silly is beyond me. Tonight Matthew had a class, and as the thought of dinner without him was unappealing, I decided to leave for SuperWalmart at 5 with my very, very long list. I knew I might hit traffic, I knew y'all might be cranky, and I knew it would be more expensive to let you eat deli chicken nuggets for dinner while I shopped, but I did it anyway. And it was fine, though you with your sensitive stomach said you needed to throw up twice (thankfully you never did. I think the cause was the chocolate milk I had 2 $1/off coupons for, which is why you each got a full 16 oz. of chocolate milk when you could really only handle maybe 6. But hey! Only 16 cents each!). When we got home it was 7 and completely dark, so I plopped y'all in front of Sesame Street.org while I unloaded the car of groceries (yeah, I was a really good parent tonight, wasn't I?). When I came back in after the first round (now I'm getting to my point, I promise), you were full-on giggling hysterically at the Martians discovering a radio. And the thing is, at the end of that video clip, I understood! Because that's you! Those silly martians making silly sounds are acting just like you do when you're being silly (which is a lot). They get you! And it helped me get you a little better myself. Boing Boing Boing Boing. . .

JaJackson, I love who you are and who you're becoming. I love how sensitive you are to us and your brother. I love taking naps with you and reading with you. I love just being your mother. Thank you for that privilege.

Happy Birthday, Sister!

Today we celebrated Laurel's 30th birthday! She and Clint treated us and many others to boat rides - a first for the boys. I was kicking myself that I forgot the camera. For Jackson especially, it was total delight. She and Harry have the same actual birthday (and her anniversary is Jackson's birthday). Happy Birthday, Laurel!
p.s. Yes, it is warm enough here that we can still enjoy the lake! But by 5:30 we were pretty chilly.

Speedball Tucker

Today is Harry's 2nd Birthday. Happy Birthday little boy. I'm starting to tear up just thinking what a joy you are.

You're not talking much, maybe only 30 words. Your communication is still mainly the grunts of baby boyhood, but your intonation is perfect. My favorite is "yes, m'am!", a sing-songy, "Hmm, Hmmm!" It seems you've decided to channel your energies into learning what you can do with your body. You amaze us with your ability to zoom down the sidewalk on the plasma car, not unaware that you're too young to do what the big boys in the neighborhood do. Jim Croce's Speedball Tucker always comes to mind. That mastered, lately you've been experimenting with bikes w/training wheels, hopping on and doing your best, as if it's nothing. Big boy.

Your Aunt Keri was saying today how much you look like the quintessential Victorian cherub baby, and it's true. That curly blonde hair, clear blue eyes, rosy cheeks, baby chub. You're adorable. You being both angel baby and Speedball Tucker is a little odd, but there it is.

Actually, the more I think of it, that combination is perfectly you. You are an angel baby - you're snuggly and sweet, freely doling out the hugs and kisses, but you are in no way a pushover. Older kids think they can grab your toy because you're "just a baby", but as soon as they do, they know they're in trouble. You'll push, bite, hit, yell, whatever you need to do until they give it back. And then you go back to sucking your thumb, looking like the angel you are.

And they call me Speedball. . .Speedball Tucker
Terror of the highways
And all them other truckers
Will tell you that the boy is mad
To be drivin' a rig like that. . .

(video missing)

Happy Birthday, Harry!

For sale - world's smallest country

"A FORMER World War II fort in the North Sea, which was settled 40 years ago and declared a state with its own self-proclaimed royal family, is up for sale."

Sounds pretty good right now. We could all rendezvous in the North Sea for four years...or until Sophie takes over in 2044.

Election Day Commentary

I was explaining the process to Sophie on Friday as we voted, that we were putting in our choice of the person who will lead our country and she said, "You should do that, Mom." (meaning, lead the country) I assured her I had no interest in the job, and she responded, "OK, I'll do it." Sophie Wright for President, 2044? I know I'D vote for her!

Cute Mad Scientists

On Friday our neighbor Chuck Stokes did some dry ice experiments with the kids. I'm holding Naomi Dwelle, a neighbor's little girl I've started watching on Friday mornings.

All Saints Day

Today we celebrated All Saints Day, (along with Reformation Day w/our church body - Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the Wittenberg Church door on October 31, 1517). And of course last night we honored those saints and martyrs of old by going door to door and threatening to trick the candy-giver if they didn't hand over a treat.

Wait a minute. Well, whatever we did last night, we celebrated those saints that have gone before us.


Presenting Saint George himself:


And his fearsome foe, The Dragon:

And don't forget the fair damsel in distress, the beautiful villager that needs the Red Cross Knight to defend her from the dragon. (She's pointing at the muscular, loyal horse that brought the knight across many hard miles to prove George's heriosm and eventual sainthood.) :

Before heading out we took some pictures with our dear neighbors; Grace as Red Riding Hood, Harry the Dragon, Jacob the Pirate, Seth as Superman, Vienna as Skeleton, and Jackson St. George:
Another, this with the addition of (from left) Emily as Red Riding Hood, Kristin as 50s, and Eric as Charlie Brown:
After their first experience of trick-or-treating, they're tired out, but thrilled - mangled mail and all. When Jackson wanted us to start carrying him, we decided it was time to head home (about 7:30). They spent awhile this morning sorting candy, in awe of all they had. Jackson then handed out all but about 10 pieces to the neighbor kids, who were so thrilled they were about to bust our door in! And yes, Harry's spiky scales are brillo-pad sponges. That's the question I've been asked the most. Matthew cut them out for me.
Hope you had marvelous All Hallow's Eve and All Saints Day celebrations too!
Love, Ruthie