Tag - family time

1
Homeschooling (Yes, This Again)
2
Meningitis, Mistaken Gender, and Orange Pee…Our Week in Review
3
Hooray for Super Bowl Commercials…But Should Our Kids Watch Them?
4
The Happiness Project
5
To Ski or Not to Ski (Silly Question?)
6
Should I Let My Child Quit?
7
Kids Do Listen, Sometimes Years Later
8
Physical or a Feeling. What is Truly a Home?
9
The Holly Story and Nothing But the Holly Story
10
The State of Disconnect

Homeschooling (Yes, This Again)

Well, at least I didn’t say “never.”  Instead, fortunately, I said “won’t.” I love the saying “Never say never, never say always.”  It’s clever.  And most of the time it’s good advice…but there are exceptions.  For me, for example, those exceptions are: I will never like marmalade. I will never not get motion sick in an IMAX movie.   I will always love my family. I have written three posts on homeschooling, the most recent about how I won’t homeschool our kids and the reasons why.  Well, if I don’t swallow my words on this one, I (ahem) never will….

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Meningitis, Mistaken Gender, and Orange Pee…Our Week in Review

  It was one of those weeks. One of those that by the time it’s over, you feel as if you’ve been in a time warp and wondering what the heck happened.  As crazy and weird as it was, the week was a learning experience, a wake up call and in some ways, pretty joyful: ~Early Monday morning, I took my husband to the emergency room;  his headache had returned with a vengeance, with a fever, chills and a stiff neck.  He was admitted to the hospital for meningitis and then given every available IV drug the pharmacy had to…

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Hooray for Super Bowl Commercials…But Should Our Kids Watch Them?

Super Bowl 50 is just around the corner, which only means one thing.  Well, two.  The first being if your adoptive home is Colorado, and your son’s new favorite team is the Denver Broncos, then you are thrilled.  And the second is all those original, entertaining commercials, which for many (myself included) are the reason to tune into the game.  So anticipated are these ads, they seem to get at least as much post-game chatter as the game itself. Which is interesting because apparently my generation (X) is a pretty jaded bunch.  As in, more resistant to the influence of…

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The Happiness Project

Forget your troubles, come on get happy You better chase all your cares away Shout Hallelujah, come on get happy ~from the song Get Happy by Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler, performed by Judy Garland in Summer Stock (1950) If you smile, you will feel happy.  There are some pretty fun studies out there to help support this.  Just try it yourself.  Smile, and you start to feel exactly what the upturned corners of your mouth show. But is feeling happy the same as being happy?

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To Ski or Not to Ski (Silly Question?)

There’s snow up in the mountains, the annual ski swap is the “happening” hot spot and ski school is booked (don’t tell my kids…for some unknown reason they want to ski with Dad and Mom).  Everyone in our southwestern Colorado town is counting down the days until the official start of (downhill) ski season.  That is, unless you are one of those hard core individuals who enjoys the relatively insane sport of backcountry skiing, then you have been schussing for a few weeks now.

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Should I Let My Child Quit?

There is a well-known story about Olympic champion Gabrielle Douglas and the turning point in her gymnastics career.  She was living with a host family in Iowa so she could work with Liang Chow, the coach who trained Shawn Johnson.  But being terribly homesick for her family and life in Virginia, she told her mother she wanted to quit gymnastics.  Upon hearing this Gabby’s mom read her the riot act and, as we all know, the rest is history. I began learning the trumpet at age nine.  Shortly thereafter I got braces and could hardly play a note.  My instructor…

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Kids Do Listen, Sometimes Years Later

I don’t remember what I made, but I do remember the process.  Or at least, I remember what I disliked about it.  The measuring, the tailor’s tacks, the ironing of narrow seams.  In short, my mom tried to teach me how to sew and I really, really, didn’t want to learn. I was the teenage daughter of an exquisite seamstress:  she made her own wedding dress.  She helped sew bridesmaid’s dresses for her sister.  She painstakingly pieced together, with her two equally talented sisters, a quilt for their parents.  My mom grew up sewing.  And thought I should, too.

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Physical or a Feeling. What is Truly a Home?

Your house is small and dirty.  (So there.)  That statement was the trump card another child played in his argument with my oldest son (apparently over legos).  The six-year-old couldn’t have understood the “grown up” interpretation of his words, the comparisons made by adults in attempt to “win” in the material world and therefore life itself.  But neither could my 10-year-old son comprehend such craziness.  He was, not surprisingly, hurt by the critique.  Small and dirty implied his world was inadequate, that the place his father and mother provided for him was, well, small and dirty. When my son told me…

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The Holly Story and Nothing But the Holly Story

It came in an oversized white rectangular box.  I was ten, maybe twelve, and beyond the tradition of hunting for Easter eggs.  And I was certainly “over” my belief in the Easter Bunny.  But my grandparents, who held the secular rituals of Easter dear, still gave gifts.  Thus the rather simple box laying in my lap that morning several decades ago. I was startled to find what was inside; it appeared to be a dismembered stuffed animal.  I was startled, and am afraid I let out an “Oh!” or some similar exclamation because the sight was a bit disturbing:  long,…

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The State of Disconnect

Our family spent a recent vacation at a state park in Nebraska.  Unexpectedly, we found ourselves without wifi and also without cell service.  And in order to get to our destination we made a painful several-hundred-mile drive across the western part of the state.  Feel the obvious joke coming on? Maybe instead of calling it the Cornhusker State, Nebraska should be called the Disconnected State. I have heard and made many jokes about Nebraska (having spent lots of time there I can… right?).  But I make this (barely humorous) zinger out of the pleasant inability to reach the outside world…

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