Another Joke

This one made up by D.

Q: What do you call a crying orange?

A: A sad-suma.

Age 6 is apparently the time when puns finally make sense. G still says things like "What do you call a horse who eats? An eating horsey moresy silly pie."

And then we laugh because no one can resist laughing when that child starts to giggle. No one.

Joke

A skeleton walks into a coffee shop. He orders a latte and a mop.

Long Live The Stick

It's official. The stick has been inducted into the Toy Hall Of Fame. This is not THE STICK, a plastic, animated, noisy, computer-generated, character-driven, expensive, or rare toy. This is the stick, the one you find in your back yard at any moment. The one you pick up at the park. The one the dog chewed on. The stick.

I don't know about you, but this kind of thing makes me look around the house and wonder what all of the other crap is doing around here. We have toys and more toys. And the kids have an appetite for more toys. Will the grandparents have toys when they come and visit? Will I buy them something when we go to the store? Can they look through that toy catalog that came in the mail and let me know what they want on their wish list?

Still, sticks are more interesting. G collects sticks. She has dissolved in tears because I wouldn't let her bring sticks in the house or home from the park. Recently, we walked over a mile through our neighborhood and vicinity, and she collected an armful of sticks, which she carried home. It looked like a bundle of firewood under her arm. And she was tired on the way home, but wouldn't drop a single stick. She proudly displayed them on the front porch and still plays with the ones that didn't blow away in the wind.

The fact is that my kids will happily ignore the piles of toys, and spend hours outside playing with rocks and sticks. We have a mud pit in the yard specifically left untouched by any concept of landscaping, just so they can dig and make a huge mess. And they will go out with shovels (in dresses, of course), turn on the hose (in the rain, no less), and dig dig dig. And dig some more.

And so, my recommendation for next year's induction for the Toy Hall of Fame is mud.

Hope

I haven't written about the results of the historic election which occurred the other day. It's not because I didn't have anything to say. But I really didn't think anyone wants to hear it among the cacophony of other opinions.

Yet, how can I say nothing about the election of the first black man in history to hold the office of President of the United States? How can I ignore the fact that the election of anyone other than a straight white Christian man is WAY overdue? It may not be the role model that my girl children were craving, but it's a good thing for everyone without a doubt. It will definitely change the world for my children in a positive way. The fact that President Elect Obama's policies and positions all basically resonate with me is a tremendous bonus, and I wouldn't have voted for him without that threshold.

To my surprise, I feel full of hope as a result of this election. I am hopeful that Obama can change the world for the better, hopeful that he inspires those who may have felt marginalized in the past, and hopeful that others are hopeful as well.

Homeschool Bliss

These are the days that affirm my homeschooling choice. The kids rooted around the house, collecting art supplies. Then they started creating their own masterpieces, completely based on their own imagination and personal vision. They enjoyed the tactile experience of doing without caring so much about the outcome. They felt proud of the results of their efforts without any external validation from me or anyone else. They mixed colors and mediums and created with abandon. Some of the time while they worked, I read an ancient history text to them. They listened and asked the occasional question. Some of the time we listened to foreign language lessons. Some of the time we listened to music. Some of the time we were quiet. In the end of the day, we had a pile of mixed media art and a messy table.

It's not often that we enjoy these perfect days with the sun streaming in the windows and nothing to do but enjoy the pleasure of learning and creating. I can't always block out the external forces that impose self doubt, boredom, pressure, and overwhelm.

But if we enjoy such a lovely time once in a while, then I feel lucky.