Posted in Believe it or not!, Home School, Who's the mom here?, Wisdom

Arkansas Freedom

Homeschool freedom or this?Americans want several things from their government. We expect freedom. We expect protection. We work hard for them.

Although most of the people in the entire world homeschooled at one time, the current, popular, en masse return to homeschooling began in America.

This is the do-by-self country. American parents have always grabbed any challenge that might improve things for their children.

Today’s homeschool is American, transcending all barriers, and the school choice of the parents of one-third of our presidents. It is one big expression of the American way. (Two million strong, now.)

Americans in Arkansas, however, have had to fight harder for this way. In some states, few raise an eyebrow at parents desiring to provide the education. In Arkansas, though, parents struggle to stay one step ahead of their legislators. It seems a case of the government attacking the citizens instead of protecting them.

We’re gearing up for battle again, beating back the legislators again (in spare time we want to spend on our kids.) A new proposal is poised to posture itself before the legislature, wasting yet more time and money on hopes for a bill no one wants. Again.

This proposal aims at curtailing our freedom and undermining the privileges and obligations inherent to parenthood.

Lest you think you should yawn at another homeschool gripe, this proposal, if enacted, would make the state the mom, even if you never plan to homeschool.

Especially if you never plan to homeschool.

The time to wake up is now.

Imagine, if you can, your small daughter blood-spattered and traumatized, from seeing classmates and teachers murdered at school, and forbidden to stay home because someone on the school payroll deemed the home (THE HOME!) an unsafe place.

And never mind the child’s own psychologist has prescribed removal from the school situation.

Our new proposal sets this scenario.

Or perhaps your son has refused to “do” a classmate in the locker room. He has been kicked in the lower back repeatedly with a steel-toed boot, is urinating blood, and forbidden to stay home because someone on the school payroll deemed it just not timely.

Never mind the child’s own pediatrician demands removal from school.

The new proposal sets these parameters.

Or try this idea: Your child tells you the most exciting thing he learned in school today is how to put a condom on a dead bird.

Or your mother is near death and your children want to be beside her as much as possible while they still can.

Or your child has MS and must nap daily and eat five times daily and it’s not happening when he’s at school. Not only that, but because his speech is difficult to understand, he is left to sit at his desk and educate himself by reading a dictionary all day, every day.

Or your daughter is receiving sexual threats and her only instructions from school staff?—to kick the bully between the legs.

These things all have occurred in Arkansas schools. Of course, children everywhere are molested, accosted, assaulted, threatened, harassed, or raped while at school. At almost every school. Even the “good” ones.

But in Arkansas schools we would have no recourse.

Even if the children in the above situations were to be excused from attending, in the future Arkansas that we discuss today, it could be after a three-week waiting period.

How can it be that a child could be forced to remain in such a dangerous and dehumanizing situation for three weeks, while grown-ups deliberate about whether or not to allow his removal?

How can the main questions be whether or not the parents need daytime supervision and what the date is!

How can this be happening to Arkansas’ children!

It simply must not be.

Please forward this post to everyone you know living in Arkansas.

More tomorrow.

Posted in Home School, Inspiring, Wisdom

But We Still Have Freedom of Religion, Right?

Been checking, out there, reading sites that discuss homeschooling, and noticed a worn out question: Do homeschoolers have to be religious freaks?

Nah. You can homeschool and hate God. But . . .

 . . . those who made that point in the responses “had a hard, hard, hard time of it,” they said. They did not stay the course, they said. They had toddlers who were rampage runners, they said. Hmm.

Who is it that gives us strength if we joy in Him? We have the joy of the Lord as a natural fruit of our connection to Him, and it is our strength, almost like the life-giving sap that runs through the vine. Even when we notice ourselves tiring, often we immediately realize we forgot to rejoice. What a difference it makes when we drink of joy!

Who is it that gives us perseverance and makes us complete, as faith overcomes life’s obstacles? We have this gift of faith, this knowing that we know things we cannot see, and every time it goes for a test drive, it matures, broadens, making us feel like we can do anything. And we can always go back to the source for more, in times of great need. It emboldens us.

Who gives us the owners’ manual regarding the rearing of children? The way is set clear before us; we have no trouble knowing “What to do! What to do! What to do!”

We capture our thoughts instead of letting them run amok, we stand up with electrified backbones, we jut our chins with a grin, and make progress. But that’s not religion and we’re not freaks.

We are war orphans and were slated for annihilation, but our Captor adopted us, feeds and clothes us, lifts us up, and plans to bequeath us all He owns. But that’s not religion.

We’re grateful. We adore Him for His kindness and generosity. We’ve discovered, in Him, Someone so fascinating that we actually enjoy conversing with Him. Medical science has discovered that those who do so get sick less, heal faster, live longer, period. Since we do need to live long enough to finish what we started, it works for us.

But it’s not religion.

Posted in Home School, Homemaking, Inspiring, Wisdom

The End of the End

Car with layer of snow on it
My Frosted Car

Not the end of the world, but just the last of the snow.

This is my little car, just before I had to go to town. We were out of milk, bread, t-paper, and birdseed. Which of those disasters is worse? I don’t know, but I had to make that trip.

Since driving and allowing your icy jetsam to smash into oncoming windshields is dangerous, I had to remove all that beautiful snow. It made me sad and cold.

I wore a jacket, but debris kept falling on my legs and feet. I needed a ten-foot handle on my broom. The broom wasn’t exactly working, anyway, because this snow was soft only in the middle, after days of sunshine and nights of freezing.

One of my kids had mentioned chopping the top ice into pieces, then scooping the entire business off in gobs. I kept brainstorming until I came back outdoors with what might have appeared to be grill-time gear: spatulas and oven mitts. Now everything was perfect. My hands were as comfortable in that cold as they would have been in the oven. My largest plastic spatula was excellent for chopping out sections of the snow layer and then scooping it off, exactly like serving huge slices of a huge cake.

When the snow is dying, I don’t care what I look like. Besides, we homeschool, so everyone already thinks we’re kooks and usually admires us, anyway. Handy.

What I like about homeschool, though, is that we used our heads and figured a way to do what we needed to do without buying something first. That’s good, since I couldn’t go to the store. Necessity is a great thing, and the mother of many other great things.

Necessity caused us to homeschool in the first place. That’s also good, since I couldn’t go to the…

Posted in 'Tis the Season, Home School, Inspiring, Wisdom

It Has to End Someday

Layers of snow on webwork
Layers of snow on sagging webwork

Mr. Snowman is sagging. Snow art propped on cars is sagging. The beauty of it all is slowly passing away.

Well, not all. The beauty of the memories is with me, still. The last hurrah of my life as a mommy is still resounding.

I did it. I raised a whole passel of kids and we all thrived.

The promises all were true.

I love this life. I love that we homeschooled. I hope everyone who casts off from the shores of tradition will carry along plenty of life preservers, because this homeschool trip is worth the finishing, no matter the storms.  And HMS Homeschool is a tight vessel, a beauty, she is, and laden with the stuff dreams are made of.

I think the thing I love best about homeschooling, though, is snow days. From a small child, I have always loved snow. I would stand by our back door and look out the half window at sun on the snow, when I was just tall enough to see out. It sparkled yellow, over mysterious blue shadows. I could hardly bear it. I always knew no one could really capture that sparkle in painting or photo.

Only experiencing snow really tells the things snow has to say. Its gleam is like the gleam on dew, only brighter and rarer.

I like to think I own that gleam. We all do. It is the gleam we scatter onto our children as we handle their lives when they are too little to handle it themselves. Now they sparkle, like snow, only brighter, rarer, more mysterious, and even more impossible to capture.

But I have experienced them and I know what they have to say.

And I am glad.

Posted in Inspiring

Another Day Off!

Shoveling snow.

The workers will get our roads safe and everyone back in their places eventually. In the meantime, we play in the snow.

The day begins with Dad shoveling snow and bleary-eyed offspring wandering into the kitchen to ask, “What is that noise?” Ha. We so seldom have the pleasure.

Now our snowman stands watch. Our cars are decorated with snow objects. Lots of hot cocoa has slipped down. I enjoyed the crazy antics of our two remaining adult kids, playing in the snow as if they were grade-schoolers. How thankful I am for the snow! Realizing they can still find joy in each other’s company is bliss to this mom.

ALSO—here comes the fun part:

  • They can put on and remove their own wraps!
  • They can heat their own water and stir up their own hot cocoa!
  • They can hang all their wet things to dry!
  • They remember to shut the door!
  • They think about not tracking the whole house with snow and mud!

I get all the same fun as when they were younger, but have none of the work.

Another amazing thing: No one grumbles today that the Internet is “down-ish”. We all have decided to do traditional snow-day fun and forget about the rest of the world. I love it. Board games, non-electric musical instruments, laundry hanging on wooden racks by the wood stove, homemade food, and watching birds have risen to the top of our most-selected activities list and everyone is content.

And I wonder: How is it in other homes? I hope you and yours enjoy a great day, today. I pray God grant you peace and contentment.

And snow.

Posted in Inspiring, Recipes

Snow! And Ice! And Slush! Oh My!

Whew! What a treat this blast of winter has been!
Treacherous ice!
Treacherous ice!

We just returned last night from visiting our Texas granddaughter for her birthday. Now our fires are rebuilt, house is re-warmed, chicken water is thawed, and icy crud on the car is knocked off. We literally had to plow our way through winter precipitation along a three-hour drive.

In four hours.

I was surprised and blessed at how excited our passengers were. Our adult offspring, home on winter break, were like little children as they recalled rare snow days from their past and giggled in excitement over the frightening but beautiful scenes around us.

We all learned much about snow tires, black ice, legalities, and travel safety in snow-slush-ice. My husband, born in Iowa and raised in northern Missouri, practiced every safety tip he knew, as he drove us home. Since we were experiencing his expertise first hand, he used it for a teachable moment, in hopes the rest of us could somehow be safer one day, should we have to drive in such conditions.

We probably won’t drive anywhere today, though. When universities and government buildings close, it’s time to stay home.

Instead, we will build a snowman. The snow will be perfect and it is deep, from our southern viewpoint: six inches. We will make snow angels and have at least one good snowball fight, although, YES, we’re all adults. We’ll have a huge breakfast with meat, and I’ll cook chili for lunch. Of course, we need more hot cocoa mix, so I’ll stir that up, too.

It’ll be a family day off. Why not join us?

Hot Cocoa Mix
3 cups instant non-fat dry milk
1 cup sugar (OR 1 teaspoon stevia powder)
1/4 cup pure cocoa powder

Place all in blender and blend on high until pulverized and thoroughly mixed. Use 1/4 to 1/3 cup mix for each serving hot water.

Chili

1 pound ground beef
2 Tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1/4 cup chili powder (or less, to taste)
1 quart whole tomatoes
1 pint cannellini beans
1 large can Mexican style hominy
Black pepper to taste

Fry beef in oil until browned. Add onion and fry until clear and soft. Stir in rest, bring to boil, and serve with corn chips and grated cheese.

See ya’ tomorrow!

Posted in Home School, Inspiring, Pre-schoolers

Fifty-eight Thousand on THE WALL

Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Washington, D.C.
Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Washington, D.C. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Just finished a good book by SQ. Rushnell containing a moving story about the Vietnam War and the damage it caused. It mentions the memorial, the 500-foot long black wall. It tells of visitors moved to tears by the more than 58,000 unlived lives and living heartaches represented there.

You could say they died to protect us. It would be a fair statement even if many disagreed.

You cannot say that about some others who have died. The aborted ones have no memorial to speak of. Oh, sometimes we display a few wooden crosses to make a statement, a temporary protest. When we put the crosses away later, we prove it is not a memorial.

But if a similar black wall existed for these dead babies, it would have to be at least a thousand times longer than the one memorializing the war dead.

Three million people visit the Vietnam War Memorial each year. At that rate, if the aborted ones had lived to visit the Wall, it would take them about 17 years.

To buy one rose for each MILLION would cost about $250.

To educate them, the public schools would garner about $550 billion.

Per year.

That’s where their money goes.

Pray.

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