Friday, February 17, 2012
The Person I Admire Most in My Family, by Delaney
The person I admire the most in my family is my big sister Brenna. Brenna is shy and quiet, but she has a big heart. If someone is being teased, Brenna is the first to stop it. Brenna loves everyone, and every animal. She is very good with the farm animals. They all love her because she loves them. Once she found a baby kitten. It was too small to survive on its own without its mom. We all knew the sad truth: the baby was not going to make it. Brenna sat with it. She even warmed milk and fed it with a medicine dropper. Brenna is trustworthy. I can tell her things I can’t tell anyone else. I know she won’t tease or tell; it’s just between me and her. Brenna is creative. She thinks of the most amazing patterns I wouldn’t have dreamed of. That’s why I admire Brenna.
The Person I Look Up to Admire, by Brenna
The person I look up to and admire the most, after my mother, is my sister Delaney. Even though she’s two years younger than me, she’s my best friend in the whole world. If she’s ever scared, she rarely lets it show. She always has something to say, and even if it’s stupid, she’s not afraid to say it. She can talk to anyone about anything, and because of this everyone wants to be her friend.
She went over to a lady’s house recently to babysit her daughter. I missed her the whole time she was gone and could barely wait till she came home. I admire her for going, and while I could have done it too, I could not have done it as casually and as smoothly as she did.
Often times if I’m scared to do something, Mother will send her with me. Of this, I’m always glad.
Thursday, February 02, 2012
My Favorite Memory With Daddy, by Megan, age 12
My favorite memory with Daddy happened a little before Christmas last year. It was cold outside and overcast. Me, Rosie and Daddy were in the garage installing a gas meter. (At least, I think that is what it was.) The TV was on so Rosie was slightly distracted. I was leaning over the tractor with Daddy trying to figure out what was blocking the meter's way. It was the closest to Daddy I had felt in a long time.
Some of My Favorite Memories with My Dad, by Delaney, age 13
My favorite memories with Daddy must have been in Illinois. Back then, he was recruiting, his new job in the Army. He worked long hours. He would be gone by the time I woke up and come home while I was already asleep in bed. He worked six days a week. We only saw him on Sundays, and these are my favorite memories.
I was just about five when I realized I could see Daddy every day! My plan was this: if I got out of bed early, I could maybe, just possibly, catch him before he left. I tried it and it worked! I taught myself just when to wake up so I could see him. My drill was to throw on clothes, then to race downstairs quietly so as not to wake anyone else up. When I got downstairs, I would sit on his lap and eat his his fresh out of the bread machine bread covered in blackberry jam. Maybe that's why it's my favorite? I would then walk out to his car with him and stand there until I couldn't see it anymore. That's favorite memory #1.
On some rare Sundays, he would collect the ones of us who were awake and take us to Duncan Doughnuts. We would walk in and be flooded by the smell of coffee and doughnuts, one of my favorite smells. Then we would stand at the case and gaze for a very long time at all the different doughnuts. Everyone else would pick theirs quickly, but not me. I stood a long, long time, and Daddy would just say, "Take your time." That's favorite memory #2.
One very snowy winter, he tried to take us up the big hill next to our house to go sledding. It was fun walking up the hill in his footsteps. When we got there, it turned out me and Brenna couldn't steer or get the sled going, so he sat behind us on our little sled and pushed off with his hands. It turned out Daddy wasn't so good at steering, either. We crashed at the bottom of the hill on a playground. Ouch! Oh, well. Time for hot chocolate! Favorite memory #3.
These are just a few of my favorite memories and I know there are more to come, but strangely enough, the little memories are my favorites - not the time we went to Florida, but the times we built sand castles in our back yard.
I was just about five when I realized I could see Daddy every day! My plan was this: if I got out of bed early, I could maybe, just possibly, catch him before he left. I tried it and it worked! I taught myself just when to wake up so I could see him. My drill was to throw on clothes, then to race downstairs quietly so as not to wake anyone else up. When I got downstairs, I would sit on his lap and eat his his fresh out of the bread machine bread covered in blackberry jam. Maybe that's why it's my favorite? I would then walk out to his car with him and stand there until I couldn't see it anymore. That's favorite memory #1.
On some rare Sundays, he would collect the ones of us who were awake and take us to Duncan Doughnuts. We would walk in and be flooded by the smell of coffee and doughnuts, one of my favorite smells. Then we would stand at the case and gaze for a very long time at all the different doughnuts. Everyone else would pick theirs quickly, but not me. I stood a long, long time, and Daddy would just say, "Take your time." That's favorite memory #2.
One very snowy winter, he tried to take us up the big hill next to our house to go sledding. It was fun walking up the hill in his footsteps. When we got there, it turned out me and Brenna couldn't steer or get the sled going, so he sat behind us on our little sled and pushed off with his hands. It turned out Daddy wasn't so good at steering, either. We crashed at the bottom of the hill on a playground. Ouch! Oh, well. Time for hot chocolate! Favorite memory #3.
These are just a few of my favorite memories and I know there are more to come, but strangely enough, the little memories are my favorites - not the time we went to Florida, but the times we built sand castles in our back yard.
My Favorite Memory of Daddy by Brenna, age 15
When we lived in Illinois and Daddy was a recruiter, we only saw him on Sundays, but those Sundays stand out in my mind as wonderful.
The night before, Mama would tell us if Daddy was going to get doughnuts or not. If he was, me and Delaney would get up as early as we could to go with him. It always seemed like the middle of the night to me, but I'm sure it wasn't. I can remember holding his hand as we picked our doughnuts out. We always got some with filling inside and some with sprinkles on top.
After breakfast, we'd go to church. The church seemed more like a huge cathedral to me, but taking into account how short I was, I think it was just a nice church. All through Mass, I'd sit next to or on top of Daddy. The best part of Mass was the Consecration. Daddy was kneeling and I was kneeling between his legs. He was warm and close and I felt very safe under there. I folded my hands just like his and he folded his over mine. When the priest held the host up and said, "Do this in memory of me," Daddy would bend his head down and whisper the words along with the priest. Every Mass, I hear in my head yet again Daddy whispering in my ear the same words as the priest. Even though our current parish has no bells, I hear them pealing in time with Daddy's voice.
After Mass, we returned home and spent a whole day with Daddy. Sometimes, we watched the Olympic ice skaters on television while Daddy flipped through a newspaper. I remember sliding around the living room on those papers, imitating the skaters.
For a while, Daddy was building model boats. It made him a little snappish and no wonder. They were delicate little things and we were always sticking our fingers in them. Mommy had to explain to us several times that they were looking-at boats, not play-with boats. He nailed some parts with tiny tacks and crazy glued others. I somehow got a little on my thumb and was deeply disturbed that it didn't peel off like Elmer's glue. I also thought it odd that I could not feel anything on that one spot.
After dinner and bath time, we waited with barely supressed excitement for Daddy to come up. There was a hammock on the far wall that no one could reach. It was stuffed full of stuffed animals, and every Sunday, Daddy would lift us up to get one. Mommy quickly installed the trading rule. To get an animal, you had to give an animal.
The day ended with four happy children being tucked in by a much loved father.
The night before, Mama would tell us if Daddy was going to get doughnuts or not. If he was, me and Delaney would get up as early as we could to go with him. It always seemed like the middle of the night to me, but I'm sure it wasn't. I can remember holding his hand as we picked our doughnuts out. We always got some with filling inside and some with sprinkles on top.
After breakfast, we'd go to church. The church seemed more like a huge cathedral to me, but taking into account how short I was, I think it was just a nice church. All through Mass, I'd sit next to or on top of Daddy. The best part of Mass was the Consecration. Daddy was kneeling and I was kneeling between his legs. He was warm and close and I felt very safe under there. I folded my hands just like his and he folded his over mine. When the priest held the host up and said, "Do this in memory of me," Daddy would bend his head down and whisper the words along with the priest. Every Mass, I hear in my head yet again Daddy whispering in my ear the same words as the priest. Even though our current parish has no bells, I hear them pealing in time with Daddy's voice.
After Mass, we returned home and spent a whole day with Daddy. Sometimes, we watched the Olympic ice skaters on television while Daddy flipped through a newspaper. I remember sliding around the living room on those papers, imitating the skaters.
For a while, Daddy was building model boats. It made him a little snappish and no wonder. They were delicate little things and we were always sticking our fingers in them. Mommy had to explain to us several times that they were looking-at boats, not play-with boats. He nailed some parts with tiny tacks and crazy glued others. I somehow got a little on my thumb and was deeply disturbed that it didn't peel off like Elmer's glue. I also thought it odd that I could not feel anything on that one spot.
After dinner and bath time, we waited with barely supressed excitement for Daddy to come up. There was a hammock on the far wall that no one could reach. It was stuffed full of stuffed animals, and every Sunday, Daddy would lift us up to get one. Mommy quickly installed the trading rule. To get an animal, you had to give an animal.
The day ended with four happy children being tucked in by a much loved father.
My Favorite Memory of Daddy by Rosie, age 7
My favorite memory of Daddy is when he taught me how to drive but I sat in his lap because I couldn't reach the pedals.
My Favorite Memory of Daddy by Jonathan, age 10
My favorite memory was in Georgia. When it got rainy, me and Daddy would sit in the garage and watch the rain. He would drink beer and I would drink juice and pretend it was beer. And then we would talk.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Accountability, And Day One of Being Accountable
My little, neglected, schoolish blog, resurrected on this, the Feast of Christ of the King. I need a place to write down what we've done with our day, and I need to be accountable to using the days wisely, so here we are. No need to comment on anything, though in the spirit of accountability, I don't mind. :-)
I was buying books for the kids for Christmas, and I generally use to occasion of book buying for someone else to pick up a little something that's been sitting in my cart. As I rummaged through several pages of saved titles, I found The Complete Children's Liturgy Book, by Katie Thompson
, and Children Discover the Mass, by Mary Doerfler Dall. I don't know where I found them originally. Perhaps Elizabeth's blog? I seem to remember a post from way back when. :-) Anyway, they are wonderful, with simple color, cut and glue activities. The children had a wonderful time at our first "Sunday School", which is on Saturday, in preparation for Sunday. It did take much longer than I expected, though, about 1.5 hours.
Thanks for keeping me company.
I was buying books for the kids for Christmas, and I generally use to occasion of book buying for someone else to pick up a little something that's been sitting in my cart. As I rummaged through several pages of saved titles, I found The Complete Children's Liturgy Book, by Katie Thompson
, and Children Discover the Mass, by Mary Doerfler Dall. I don't know where I found them originally. Perhaps Elizabeth's blog? I seem to remember a post from way back when. :-) Anyway, they are wonderful, with simple color, cut and glue activities. The children had a wonderful time at our first "Sunday School", which is on Saturday, in preparation for Sunday. It did take much longer than I expected, though, about 1.5 hours. 
Thanks for keeping me company.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Faithful Patriots
When I first started homeschooling, I used Sonlight Curriculum. I loved all the books and all the different cultures studied. After all, like they said, America isn't the only country in this world; why spend so many years studying American History? This probably makes sense, as they market mostly to the expatriate crowd. Still, I gave it up after a couple of years. I told myself it was because of the Instuctor's Guides and the religion courses. (I don't think a person can call himself Christian and still manage to be anti-Catholic. That's hatred, which was not on Jesus' to-do list. But I digress.)
A few weeks ago, I was sitting in church, waiting for Mass to start. Before me, side by side, stood the American flag and the Pope's flag. I contemplated that for a few minutes, then I realized that's what I want for my kids. I want to be raising faithful, God-loving patriots. I want them to believe that they live in the greatest nation on earth. I want them to know the stories and legends of our heroes. I want them to know where they came from so they can influence where we're going. I want them to love their flag and the republic it represents. I want them to know the men and women who loved this country enough to give their lives for it.
May these early years breed in my children a love of God and a love of country. There is time later for looking at the world through another's eyes.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting in church, waiting for Mass to start. Before me, side by side, stood the American flag and the Pope's flag. I contemplated that for a few minutes, then I realized that's what I want for my kids. I want to be raising faithful, God-loving patriots. I want them to believe that they live in the greatest nation on earth. I want them to know the stories and legends of our heroes. I want them to know where they came from so they can influence where we're going. I want them to love their flag and the republic it represents. I want them to know the men and women who loved this country enough to give their lives for it.
May these early years breed in my children a love of God and a love of country. There is time later for looking at the world through another's eyes.
First Day Jitters
We are starting school today, but it isn't going to be pretty. The house isn't neat, let alone clean, there isn't anything that you might call a schedule, and we don't even have all of our materials yet. But we are starting school today anyway.
I'm leaning quite a bit this year toward workbooks. Being in the first trimester throes of nausea and exhaustion, and expecting, at the end of the third trimester, to have an infant to tend to, I thought I'd make this year as easy on myself as possible. Plus, the girls LOVE workbooks. So, they will have spelling, math, handwriting, art, and religion books that they can deal with mostly on their own. Not bad, especially since art and spelling have been somewhat neglected anyway. That frees me up to spend more time with the little learners, who don't have enough skills for independent learning yet, and for the fun stuff, like history and science.
As far as the schedule go, I think I'll print out a Managers of Their Homes style schedule, laminate it, and use wet-erase markers to schedule in stuff like piano sharing. Changes are easily made, the kids will be able to help with their schedules, and we'll have a bit of order to our school days. Of course, there is a fine line between order and spontaneity. The balance must be preserved.
I'm leaning quite a bit this year toward workbooks. Being in the first trimester throes of nausea and exhaustion, and expecting, at the end of the third trimester, to have an infant to tend to, I thought I'd make this year as easy on myself as possible. Plus, the girls LOVE workbooks. So, they will have spelling, math, handwriting, art, and religion books that they can deal with mostly on their own. Not bad, especially since art and spelling have been somewhat neglected anyway. That frees me up to spend more time with the little learners, who don't have enough skills for independent learning yet, and for the fun stuff, like history and science.
As far as the schedule go, I think I'll print out a Managers of Their Homes style schedule, laminate it, and use wet-erase markers to schedule in stuff like piano sharing. Changes are easily made, the kids will be able to help with their schedules, and we'll have a bit of order to our school days. Of course, there is a fine line between order and spontaneity. The balance must be preserved.
Monday, June 12, 2006
First Sewing Lesson
The girls learned how to sew a basic running stitch, using gingham check fabric as a guide.
They spent over an hour sewing rows and rows of neat little stitches.
Brenna even advanced to adding a backstitch in the spaces.
Jonny learned how to sew knots. 
Summer Karate Class
David had his first karate/self defense class with the kids last Wednesday. 
He taught them all a choke hold, and they got pretty good at it, pretty quickly.
Unfortunately, Jonathan now has new ways to torture his sisters.
Even Rosie got in on the lesson!
High Praise
I wrote a little story for Megan to practice her reading on. It featured a pretty girl named ::gasp:: Megan and a wild pony who came to be her own. Half way through, she wiggled and grinned, and almost sheepishly said, "This is a good story!" 'Tis the nicest compliment I've received in a long time.
Friday, April 28, 2006
The Poor Man by Megan Cooper (age 6)
Will he ride his pony? No! He will not ride his pony. He will ride a car. Yes! He will ride his pony. He will ride his car and he became rich.
He went to a place where there was monsters. So he screamed and he ran.
The poor man had a wonderful time. For he loved when he rode the pony. The End.
That was how she read it, now this is how she wrote it:
The Por Man
will he rid his pone no
he will not rid his pone he will rid a
kor Yes he will rid his pone
he will rid his kor
and he bkam rih
he want too a plas war
ver was menadrs so he
sgremd and ran
Th por man had a wandfl
tim for he lavd wa he rod
th pone
the ed
Meg is six and just starting to read, but she uses everything she knows to spell words the best she can. I think her spelling skills are pretty impressive! (Except she should know how to spell "the"!)
He went to a place where there was monsters. So he screamed and he ran.
The poor man had a wonderful time. For he loved when he rode the pony. The End.
That was how she read it, now this is how she wrote it:
The Por Man
will he rid his pone no
he will not rid his pone he will rid a
kor Yes he will rid his pone
he will rid his kor
and he bkam rih
he want too a plas war
ver was menadrs so he
sgremd and ran
Th por man had a wandfl
tim for he lavd wa he rod
th pone
the ed
Meg is six and just starting to read, but she uses everything she knows to spell words the best she can. I think her spelling skills are pretty impressive! (Except she should know how to spell "the"!)
How We Got A Dog: A True Story by Brenna Cooper
One day, my mother was getting some tape, when she looked out the window and saw...a pack of puppies! Now, it was going to freeze overnight, so, she put them in the garage for the night. The next day some people from the pound came to take them, all but one: Ella. And that's how we got a dog.
The End.
The End.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Jack and Jill by Brenna Cooper
One day, Jack and Jill's mother sent to go get some water from the well. But while Jack was filling the bucket like a good boy, Jill was walking on the edge of the well, and she fell in! Well, Jack was so terrified, he ran home with the bucket of water in his hand. When he got home, he was so scared he couldn't speak for weeks on end. When he could speak, he told his mother what happened. She thought he was lying.
In the meantime, Jill found the well was empty, except an old mattress and a bucket of fresh fish. Jill had fallen on the mattress and ate the fish. Back home, Jack's mother had come to believe in Jack, because Jill was nowhere to be found. You see, no one had ever needed a ladder, so no one had one to get Jill out of the well. So the whole village came to the well. And everyone went fishing and got some water and other foods to feed Jill till she was big enough to climb out. Then one day, she climbed out. Then she and her family lived happily ever after.
The End.
In the meantime, Jill found the well was empty, except an old mattress and a bucket of fresh fish. Jill had fallen on the mattress and ate the fish. Back home, Jack's mother had come to believe in Jack, because Jill was nowhere to be found. You see, no one had ever needed a ladder, so no one had one to get Jill out of the well. So the whole village came to the well. And everyone went fishing and got some water and other foods to feed Jill till she was big enough to climb out. Then one day, she climbed out. Then she and her family lived happily ever after.
The End.
An Act of Faith by Delaney Cooper
If I were a nun, I would bring food to the poor, and I would bring toys for the kids. People in jail I would preach for and I would try and stop people from divorces and make people stop marrying another man or a woman, and stop killing babies and throwing them away. I would love everybody, and I would help Father at Mass. That's what I would do if I was a nun, and I would not die sad and helpless. I would know that I did right.
(This is a dictation of the original, which has some, er, creative spelling.)
(This is a dictation of the original, which has some, er, creative spelling.)
Monday, April 03, 2006
The Spelling Game
The kids love sitting around the dinner table practicing their spelling. Unfortunately, they can't spell their way out of a paper bag! Not all of them, mind you. Jonny enjoyed spelling several letters and words such as TV and DVD. And oddly enough, Megan can spell. She doesn't own enough "rules" to spell properly all the time, but she never misses a sound and always comes up with something phonetically appropriate. I credit this to our use of a movable alphabet. Every day, before her reading lesson, she's practiced building words. I printed out a few more sheets of letters yesterday, and I'm going to start the elder girls on this, too, and have them write the words they build in a notebook. It isn't exactly the The Writing Road to Reading method, but it's a reasonable twist, I think. And it's more fun. Motivated kids learn faster.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Bug Off!
No luck yet identifying our insects, but the University of Kentucky keeps a great page on Assassin Bugs that I thought you would enjoy. I first found them while trying the determine the identity of a most interesting insect, which turned out to be a wheel bug. You can find his picture on here. I'm pretty sure that orange bug we photographed is an assassin. It looks a lot like this Zelus bug, except that mine is orange.
Another great bug ID site is What's That Bug. I've been able to identify several spiders using this site, and the sheer volume of photographs is amazing.
Well, I'm pretty sure that my bug is an assassin, though probably an immature one, which would explain why it doesn't look quite like any of the photos available. I let it live, as assassin bugs are beneficial, even though they look scary!
Another great bug ID site is What's That Bug. I've been able to identify several spiders using this site, and the sheer volume of photographs is amazing.
Well, I'm pretty sure that my bug is an assassin, though probably an immature one, which would explain why it doesn't look quite like any of the photos available. I let it live, as assassin bugs are beneficial, even though they look scary!
Something Slimy
Delaney discovered this nest of small, gooey insects on a leaf of the willow tree. I don't know what they are, but after a half hour of examination, I eliminated them.
Unidentified Orange Bug
I don't know what this is yet. Haven't had time to do a search for it! It is orange, with darker markings on it's back, and two black thorn-like things sticking out sideways from the front part of it's body. If you know what this is, please let me know! I'm thinking it might be some sort of assasin bug.&
Monday, March 27, 2006
Scarred for Life
I think I may have seriously disturbed the children with my graphic description of human sacrifice. We are studying the Aztec, who apparently kept the sun afloat by offering blood sacrifice. I embellished the text a little, I'm afraid, and the children are morbidly fascinated. I wonder what nightmares they'll have tonight.
Monday, February 13, 2006
What does it mean that her water broke?
In answer, we used the most convenient amniotic sac...the egg. We started last night, by soaking our egg in vinegar to remove the shell, which left us with just the membranes holding in the liquids. It was delightfully squishy. I explained the purpose of the membranes and fluids in humans, horses and other mammals, and answered lots of questions about what it feels like and how it happens. Then, we broke the egg's 'water', which resulted in squeals of delight as the contents gushed into the bowl, leaving us holding just an empty 'balloon'.
Delaney: We put an egg in vinegar and in the morning it was squishy. We scraped all the white stuff off. And then we pricked it with a knife. Then we saw the empty sac.
Brenna: I learned that if you keep rubbing off the shell after you soak the egg in vinegar, it's really neat when you poke the knife through it. We learned how the water would break when you're pregnant and how it would dribble out if you're standing up and gush out if you're lying down. The water in the sac keeps the baby from getting hurt. My favorite part was feeling the water sac before we popped it.
Delaney: We put an egg in vinegar and in the morning it was squishy. We scraped all the white stuff off. And then we pricked it with a knife. Then we saw the empty sac.
Brenna: I learned that if you keep rubbing off the shell after you soak the egg in vinegar, it's really neat when you poke the knife through it. We learned how the water would break when you're pregnant and how it would dribble out if you're standing up and gush out if you're lying down. The water in the sac keeps the baby from getting hurt. My favorite part was feeling the water sac before we popped it.
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