I write, therefore I am...

“What is a diary as a rule?

A document useful to the person who keeps it. Dull to the contemporary who reads it and invaluable to the student, centuries afterwards, who treasures it.”

-Sir Walter Scott

As a teenager I was actually quite good about keeping a journal. I tried to make an entry at least every day and at worst at least once a week. I wrote it as though I was telling a good friend about my day. Too my credit, I rarely "toned it down" and wrote as things happened, not how I wished they'd turned out. It's good for record keeping, but it keeps me from handing them over to my 13 year old to read. One day she can have them, but for now, they're locked away safely.

I lost interest in journaling after I got married, and tried a few times to keep an electronic sort of diary on my computer, but I'd always get sidetracked and the time lapses between entries was embarrassing.

Monday I decided to start again. I went out and found a be

autiful leather bound book and cut myself a brown ribbon page marker. It's amazing. I forgot how therapeutic putting pen to paper can be. I feel like I'm doing something eternal by simply jotting down the goings on of my daily life. In theory my journal could last for a hundred years. One day students may be reading "The Diary of Leslie Fiore". Anne Frank gave us insight into the Holocaust, Why shouldn't my diary be forever revered for the insight into my laundry habits and choice of shampoo??

Yanni makes me cry.

Until today I thought there were only about 5 songs in my mental library that yeilded the power to reduce me to tears. I was reminded of #6 today. I was minding my own business and this certain song came on the easy listening station I had tuned in and before I knew it, I had a lump in my throat and teensy tiny tears welling up behind my eyes. I pushed them back and decided that instead of crying, I'd blog. Blogging cures everything right?

Picture it:

Jensen Beach, 1999, my "perfect boyfriend" has just broken up with me. I've been lying on my bed for hours sobbing my soul out, My Dad is in the kitchen playing with Brooke and my Mom is sitting on the end of my bed trying to console me.

ME: "Whhhhyyyyy..... wooooouuullddd.... heeeee.... dooooo..... thisss???"

Mom: "Oh honey, it's alright... are you, um, sure you didn't do something?"

Me: "MEEEE...EEEE??????????????????" (So high pitched dogs in the neighborhood were cowering"

Mom: "That's not what I meant, oh, I'm so sorry!! What can I do??"

Me: "NOTHING...Waaaaaahhhh...."

Mom: "You need to sleep for a little while"

Me: "Noooo... I... Don't...!!!!!!"

Mom: "I'll go get and get some nice relaxing music, I'll be right back!"

after a few minutes she comes back into the room, sets the CD player on my nightstand and plays this "uplifting ballad" to "soothe my broken heart" ...

I know Mom was trying to be helpful so I can't fault her (too much). What she thought was soothing music I thought was a fitting soundtrack for my emotional ruin. So, yeah, Yanni and I have history, OK? The long haired mustachioed man got me through that horrible night and I think I can say pretty safely I hadn't listened to him since. Here's to another 11 years of surpressed memories!

The Travel Bug...

In my 32 years I've had all manner of illnesses, but none have been so hard to kick as the travel bug.

Right now I am here...

But I want to be here...

And while I'm venting, I'd like to take this opportunity to officially blame this sickness on my Father. Yes Dad, this is YOUR fault. You know what you've done! Taking me to all of those castles and palaces, toting us around Europe and opening our eyes to it's awesome Majesty. He created the sight seeing monster that lives within me. It's his fault, I'm sure of it! ;)

Our Classroom....

Consider this my first real post dedicated to what we homeschooled today.

I've been very leary about posting anything related to how we homeschool simply for fear of judgement, ridicule, conflict or other forms of snarkiness. Homeschooling is a personal thing, and it's been my experience that people either love it or they hate it. And in most cases people hate it because "I knew a girl who was homeschooled and SHE hated it....". I'd no sooner want to have someone judge my homeschooling methods than I'd want to have someone critique my sex life.

But it occured to me today, that this is a HUGE part of the kids lives, and it deserves to be documented so that years down the road they'll remember what we did today.

SOOO, this is what a typical school day looks like in our house:

________________________________________________________________

This week we're learning about gardening and how things grow. Today, we read this book:

And then we pitted these avocado's and placed them in water to watch them grow. (Eventually)

Next we planted these seeds: Corn for Diana and watermelons's for Dom.

After a much needed Lunch break, I got Dom started on his computer work. For the "hard stuff" I rely heavily on a wonderful online curriculum.
It's animated and lively and Dominick loves it. I love it because it tracks everything he does, reports his progress and keeps him on the right track for his grade level. Today he finished a math lesson on Perimeter & Area and started a Language Arts lesson on Plurals "s and es".
To finish the day off the kids learned about mosaics and then were able to make their own by cutting up scraps of paper and adhering them to pictures they'd chosen.

THE END.

Charles In Charge

Meet Charles Duke Perseus Theodore Beloo the V.

I've been wanting a Yorkshire Terrier for about a year now, but either they were too expensive (in excess of a thousand dollars) or they were, ..... wait, no... actually the ONLY reason I haven't gotten one has been due to the hefty price tag.

Imagine my delight when I found, on Craigslist, a woman looking to rehome her Yorkie Pup for a minimal fee! AND she only lived about 2 miles from the house. I went and picked up Charlie the same day and I couldn't be happier!

He's an amazing pup and just as sweet as can be!!

Happy Anniversary to US!

8 years ago, in front of family and friends, I walked down the aisle in a beautiful white gown (a stretch, I know) and met my husband at the alter. We were married by my father and celebrated the union with our children. The night was a blur, but I remember feeling very settled, and very very happy.

We had just about everything working against us and I knew marrying Ed was a risk, but I feel that it has paid off in more ways than I'll ever be able to truly appreciate.

Ed is one of a kind. He's seen me at my best and regrettably at my very worst,and still manages to find my company satifactory. He has a temper worthy of an Irishman, but a capacity for forgiveness that boggles my mind. He lets me sleep in and makes me breakfast in bed and he doesn't laugh when my bathng suit is too small and gives me a permanent wedgie. He spoils me rotten but is the first to serve a reality check when needed. He is hysterically funny and a better story-teller than Aesop himself. His work ethic is unrivaled by anyone in our aquaintance. He works hard (and then even harder) at a career he doesn't even like to ensure we have a roof over our heads, food in our bellies and enough left over to splurge when we want to. AND he doesn't make me pay the bills! He doesn't heed any of my advice but he's always willing to listen to it.

It has been a long hard road for the two of us, but I know without the shadow of any doubts, that I made the right choice that day in April. If we have another 8 years that are half so fun as these last 8 have been, I'll find myself so truly blessed.