Top Ten in the State!

A tired John Robert displays his four state championship medals
for his proud momma.  Top Ten in four events!

While Spencer and Denver and I were playing catch, playing at the pool and goofing off today; my oldest son, John Robert, was swimming with an injured shoulder at the State Meet.  After hours of competition, he arrived home tonight exhausted, hungry, and victorious.

He made it into the finals in six events, and earned medals in four: 
8th in the 100 freestyle
6th in the 100 individual medley
6th in the 200 medley relay
6th in the 200 freestyle relay. 
Most importantly, he swam faster this year in every event; and he was EIGHT seconds faster in the 200 individual medley.
He is proud of himself, and ready for Nationals next weekend.

Amazing.

So proud of our guy. 

  

Another Funny from Shorty

This afternoon, Denver and I played catch in the yard for a long time with his new baseball glove and ball.  

He told me all about a new video game that worked like a game of Clue.  I told him all about my ideas for homeschool this year and asked his opinions. 

We were having fun listening to the pop of the ball hitting the gloves and seeing how many pop flies we could catch when suddenly Denver said, "I just love conversatin' while we do this skillful stuff."

To my credit, all I said was, "Me too, Buddy."

Um . . . I guess I'll doublecheck our grammar curriculum for this year?

Knowing Everything in the World

Spencer is enjoying Minecraft computer camp this week.  He has a history of severe stomach aches and anxiety associated with classroom environments.  My eldest son helped me understand why this week is different.

"If you think of computer games as being their own worlds, then it is possible inside the computer game to know everything in the world."

Oh.  I'd never thought of it that way.  

Spencer tries on a new hat.

Spencer is on the verge of mastering the Minecraft world.  His teacher is interested and excited for him.  His classmates respect his knowledge.  He is feeling confident and happy.  

The effect is a smiling Spencer, and a willingness to play hide and seek and other games with his classmates at lunchtime.  The effect is an ability to eat a normal meal without becoming ill.

For some children, mastery of one world can lead to mastery in another.

Little Boy on the Prairie . . . Uh, by the Swimming Pool.

Chillin' at the Pool . . . with Laura Ingalls?

After over eight years of rarely reading anything by choice, and always declaring to anyone who will listen, "I can't read!," Denver decided to pick up Little House on the Prairie last week.

Suddenly, he plopped down beside me on the couch and said, "Guess what?  I can really read."  He was smiling from ear to ear.  He told me a little bit about the story and how he can figure out (nearly) all the words.

He went around the house sharing his miraculous news with everyone.  We all congratulated him and then left him alone to get to know the Ingalls family.

He's been taking his book with him everywhere-- laughing and talking excitedly about the adventures of Ma, Pa, Mary, Laura, and Carrie.

He only reads a page or two at each sitting.  Figuring out all those words can make his head hurt, he says, but the story is good. Occasionally, he spells a word and looks at me expectantly for an explanation.  

Once, I offered to read to him for a little while just to let him enjoy the story.  "Oh, NO!  If you read more than one or two words to me, I'll have to start the whole book over!" he declared dramatically.

Writing with a homemade hawk feather pen,
"Just like Abraham Lincoln," according
to Denver.

Denver uses his clown nose
to block the smell of his
chemical concoctions.

I do what I'm told and try to act like it's no big deal.  After all, I knew he could do it whenever he wanted to-- it's just taken him quite a while to make that choice!

There is a big difference between what we call reading when a child is five or six (knowing basic alphabet sounds and reading three letter words phonetically), and what every child knows real reading is: being able to pick up a book or magazine or menu and know what it says without help. 

Congratulations, Buddy.  You took your sweet time, but you've crossed over.

LOL-- Lots of Lincoln

The boys at the Lincoln Museum in Springfield, Illinois.
Notice John Wilkes Booth lurking in the background!

My husband sees a lot of wonderful places in his work as a pilot-- Telluride, Colorado; lonely paradises in the Bahamas; beaches and mountains all over the continent.

Where does he want to take the boys and me to visit on our summer vacation?

My guys at the Illinois State Capital

Springfield, Illinois.  The land of Lincoln.  Home of the Lincoln Museum.  It turned out to be a wonderful trip.  Denver even made the local news!

Denver was interviewed and made the news
regarding Fourth of July events near the state capital.

We were lucky enough to meet
President Lincoln outside a restaurant.

I was skeptical.  First of all, although I love history, I'm a little worn out from being a homeschool momma for the past four years.  I was hoping for a vacation involving big, frozen drinks with tiny umbrellas.  

Spencer confronts Booth.

The Lincoln museum is dedicated to helping us all understand the life of Abraham Lincoln.  They do it beautifully, and even had the help of Disney in creating exhibits.  The actors were fantastic.  We saw Lincoln's actual home, his law office, and the renovated street where he lived.  The period actors and knowledgable volunteers helped the whole experience come to life.  

Where else can you go and see a Union soldier
eating at Subway?

My boys with the Lincoln family.

The shows were amazing-- with ghosts telling stories, 3D presentations, and castings of Lincoln's hands and face for us to touch.  The photos and visual presentations of the Civil War were overwhelming.  I can't believe I'm saying this . . . but I'm incredibly glad we went.  

Now that our vacation is over, I'll fix my own pina colada and drink it by our pool . . . while I read my new biography of Abraham Lincoln.

Checking out the Show Me State

Denver could not wait to wave
his foam finger at the game!

It's a long drive to Nana and Papa Dale's house in Missouri.  

It was worth it.

Hiking at St. Joe Park.

Touching the arch, seeing their first professional baseball game, eating at St. Louis's Old Spaghetti Factory (not actually an old spaghetti factory), swimming, riding bikes, playing with cousins and friends, riding four wheelers, playing baseball, shooting skeet, and hiking.  The boys packed all this into the shortest Missouri trip ever.

Two photos this trip including both my mom and me.
We are usually the ones taking the pictures!

Who wanted to go home?  Not me!

The view from our seats at the Cardinals game.

I looooooove my parents and the way they show their love for us.  I hope  we can someday be such doting grandparents.  

Me and my man in downtown St. Louis.

The boys with their cousins, Breanna and Hannah.

Uneasy Choices

It is easy to tell yourself that you are a good parent when your children are doing what you want them to do.  I can even imagine that I trust my children to make their own choices.  I talk a big game about this-- respecting my children's interests, not pressing upon them my own expectations for success.

Lies.  All lies.

This summer, John Robert has an enormous amount of summer work to do for four of his upcoming 9th grade classes.  It isn't simply reading a novel and writing about it (although that is one assignment).  He has many pages of algebra, several chapters of science, and an enormous assignment for a class titled Human Geography.  Since we received his assignments, I have been agonizing about how to get him to DO the work.  I even went so far-- with his permission-- as to print out a calendar and suggest a work schedule.  

I was dismayed to realize that John Robert's way of coping with large assignments is to ignore them.

Days and weeks passed.  

I find I am no longer the mother who trusts her son to make his own choices.  I agonize over my son's seeming lack of work ethic and my role as a parent.  My husband and I discuss in hushed tones how to coerce John Robert into doing his work.  We discuss taking away his laptop and his phone.  I fantasize about screaming.

Hypocrisy surrounds me like the heat of this Georgia summer, making it hard to take a deep breath.  All my talk about John Robert living his own life and making his own decisions-- where are those words now?  Does a responsible parent push or does a respectful parent allow her child to fail in hope that he will make the "right" choice on his own?  If my son makes poor choices, does that mean I'm a poor parent? 

After much agonizing, I sat down with John Robert on his bed last night.  We talked about the surprising amount of work required of him this summer.  I listened to his confused feelings pour forth.  He knows doing the work and earning good grades is important, but the assignments don't feel important.  They feel like a burden.  I understand.

As my child talks, I realize my beliefs: I make it clear that his life belongs to him, and I will not damage our trusting and respectful relationship by attempting to force his choices.  At the same time, his father and I will not continue to pay out of county tuition if he fails to give his assignments a full effort.  My words surprise and please me.

I suggest that perhaps he feels overwhelmed; and if so, I would like to support him in any way that makes sense to him.  I suggest that he may feel embarrassed to walk into his first day at a new school having failed to complete several assignments.  John Robert agrees.  He suggests that I hold his phone and keep him away from his laptop during "work time" so that he doesn't get distracted.  He immediately picks up an assignment and I walked away holding his phone. 

To my amazement, I arrived home from work today to find John Robert wanting to discuss Of Mice and Men, which he had (finally) read.  He was deeply moved by the characters and surprised by the distressing ending.  After eating lunch together, he settled down to do his response journal.  We talked throughout the afternoon-- about the characters in the novella, about the author John Steinbeck, his language choices, the setting and time period.  My son is delightful company.

After he leaves for his second swim practice of the day, I sneak a peek at his writing.  It is beautiful, insightful, riddled with spelling errors; and yet, a pleasure to read.