Making the grade

According to conventional wisdom, I have a second grader, kindergartner and preschooler. I don’t care much for the labels, but it helps when people ask the question – “What grade are you in?”

I think it’s important that my children have an answer that non-homeschoolers understand. If Susan answers “I’m in second grade,” then the person asking the question has an idea of what she is learning and how old she is.

Oftentimes I want to launch into a speech about how labels are more of a hinderance to learning, in place to help the teachers and administrators with crowd control. But I don’t. I know the mom in the park is just making polite conversation and really doesn’t care a bit what I think. That’s okay. I know when to shut up, offer my opinion… or save it for the blog.

Indian summer days

Over the weekend, we went camping for the last time this season and it was glorious. (I love that word, it seems close to God.)

Indian summer with a brief spot of late afternoon rain. Night still warm enough to sleep on top of the sleeping bag. Day still warm enough for the (heated) swimming pool. We recently acquired a pop-up camper so this was the Maiden Voyage weekend.

Our tribe played hard with all the “neighbor” kids. I wish I could still make friends as easily; we grown-ups are too busy, too shy, too… whatever… to get beyond “Hi.” I guess I’ll have to satisfy myself with the friends my children make.

Anybody want a three year old?

Why should I be the only one with a soggy diaper being thrown at her head?

While I’m spooning breakfast into my mouth.

And reading.

While sitting at the computer.

I think I got most of the cottage cheese out from under the Caps Lock and Shift keys. There is no greater offense than to come between a reader and her text, a writer and the keyboard, a mom and her personal space. Grrrrr.