We are using Ray's mathematics for my two youngest children, and I am uber impressed with how the material is presented, and how children are able to take advanced concepts and make them more "common sense." We tackle most of it orally, which takes the fear out of the written page and helps us to get through it easier.

So, here's an example or two of Joseph's math for this morning:

"If you have 8 cents, and 3/4 of your money equals 2/3 of mine, how many cents have I?"

"William says to Frank: Your age is 15 years and 4/5 of your age is 3/4 of mine. What is my age?"




In typical Joseph-like deadpan, he looked at me and said, "Mom, no one ever talked liked this..."

Wonderful Mother's Day!

Mass...
a chance to read...
hot tea...
time spent with my family...
dinner cooked by my husband and son (Christopher)...
handwritten letters...
phone calls...
gardening supplies...
and a great book.

Doesn't get much better than that!

Can't believe I'm actually posting again!

Last night, I spent hours tripping down memory lane, laughing with my kids about the posts I've written over the years, remembering all the funny stories and the pictures.

I'm SO glad I wrote those stories down! Even through the craziness of those early mom years, I took the time in the evening to blog about them, and now they are a priceless reminder of our family life.

Since stopping my blog back in 2016, I've been keeping a diary of sorts, but it hasn't been the same. Not even close.

I won't make promises, but it would be nice if I could get back into the habit of blogging again. I'm not expecting anyone other than family to read this, but that's fine with me -- they are the ones who will appreciate these stories.

So, it comes down to this

Children who don't normally get snow make due with sleet. They have been out multiple times today, making sleet men, eating ice balls, and finding the fun in something that most of us find pretty miserable.

Live it up, my Southern children -- live it up!

This is what a snow day in South Carolina looks like

Don't see any snow?

Nope.

Neither do we.

And yet, all the public schools in our county are on a two-hour delay and, because of that, my high schoolers co-op is completely cancelled for the day.

Due to snow.

Which ISN'T here.

Ah, I love living in the South!!!


(P.S. For the record, we DID have big, fat flakes coming down for about 30 minutes yesterday afternoon. All the homeschooling kids in the neighborhood instantly went outside, jumping for joy and making the most of this once a year -- if we're lucky -- event. I had to smile, thinking of how it must have brought a smile to God's heart, seeing the sheer joy that a little snow brings to the people of South Carolina!

My youngest son is, even now, dreaming big dreams of sledding down the hills today. I don't have the heart to tell him just yet that it ain't gonna happen..)

Counting my blessings

After a nightmare of an afternoon, filled with me bawling my eyes out, I found this sweet note placed in the hallway...

...and this one in the laundry room...

...and this one in the playroom.

Sigh.

When everything seems to go wrong, I can thank God for a loving husband, sweet kids who are quick to give me hugs, and fantastic friends who can pray with me over the phone.

I am blessed.

Worthwhile video...

... to remind us all of the PRIVILEGE we have been given, by God Himself, to care for these little ones. What an honor! What a joy!

Happy Easter! Happy Divine Mercy Sunday!

Wanted to blog, but Holy Week preparations/activities took top priority (as well they should!)... and Easter week has been filled with, unfortunately, sickness. Poor little Joseph has been (ahem) rather unwell, although he has been an incredible trooper.

How many three year olds can deal with vomiting without freaking out? This amazing little guy has been carrying around his bucket with a smile on his face.

Me? I milked it for all it was worth when I was a little kid. If I was miserable, EVERYONE around me was miserable. I would cry, moan, and whine whenever I felt horrible.

I'm hoping he will feel better tomorrow so I can post some pictures of the latest creations going on here at Chez Ouiz....

Listening better... and birthday wishes

Well, I took my own words to heart and tried... really TRIED... to make sure I listened to all of my kids today (but especially the one I mentioned yesterday). I hope he noticed that his mom gave him all of her attention -- a smile, eyes looking at him when he talked, and giving him real feedback (rather than an "um hum.")

In other news, it's Christopher's birthday tomorrow! (He's the one holding the little guy in the picture above. Wow... that picture is soooo old). He will be turning 12, which is painful to think about -- another one of my babies becoming an (almost) teenager.

And speaking of teenager-ness, I must say that I am thoroughly enjoying the teenage years of my children. By God's grace, we are having a blast! The conversations, the laughter, the genuine enjoyment that we have in being together is a gift, pure and simple. I am privileged to be living with these people!

But getting back to Christopher, he is turning 12 tomorrow. As per our family tradition, he made his own cake this evening. I know that sounds terrible. I made LOTS of birthday cakes over the years, but it turns out that one gift they all looked forward to the most was helping me make the cake. So, starting about 5 years ago or so, that's what we do. The birthday person and I go to the store together to get the ingredients and then have a great time in the kitchen. No other little ones are allowed to help. (Joseph, the baby... who will be turning [gulp] 4 this year -- see? That picture IS old! -- is already planning out HIS birthday cake. It's getting more elaborate with each telling!)

I'd take pictures, but right now the boys have taken my camera and are busy in their room making stop-motion films. They are having so much fun, so I'll just have to wait for pictures tomorrow.

Back again

Taxes are done...
our homeschooling year is almost over...
craft projects have been completed...
and books that were piled on my desk, mocking me, have been read.

I've gotten a lot off my plate, and I feel like I can sit down and blog again.

Of course, I've probably lost everyone who ever wanted to read what I had to say, so this will be more of an on-line journal for myself.

For now I would like to say praise God for Dr. Kathy Koch, who recently spoke at the Southeast Homeschooling Conference. In just one session she explained 18 years of trying to figure my husband out, as well as some of my questions about my kids. And she did it all by talking about the 8 different kinds of intelligences that we all have, in some combination. I am so grateful that I can finally see that what I considered to be a defect was, in reality, a different kind of intelligence.

I am also grateful to learn that my need to talk is, in fact, another kind of intelligence.

I am the sort of person that needs to discuss a show I saw, or a book I read, or a homily I heard, in order to "process it." I need to talk it over and get feedback from others before it can really gel in my mind; otherwise, it's just floating out there, nebulous, and I feel lost.

Unfortunately, my need to discuss things often exceeds others' capabilities to listen. My friend M, God bless her, is a saint. She understands more than anyone else that this is how I think things through, and has shown great patience as I've hashed out the great mysteries of the universe... along with the latest episode of The Walking Dead... and the books that I'm reading.

Truly, she deserves a medal.

My parents also have gone over and above what could be reasonably expected of others, and never made me feel like I was some obnoxious twit. I had no idea I talked that much (although the fact that I always got in trouble for talking in school should have given me a clue) They never sighed or looked bored. They always made me feel important because they LISTENED.

It's unfair, though, to depend on others to fulfill that need. People are fallible and often those closest to us make us feel unloved and unimportant when they fail to listen.

Tonight was one of those times.

After driving around in the car for awhile, having a good cry, I asked Jesus what I was supposed to do with this. One of my children immediately came to mind. He is someone a lot like me, who needs to share what is on his heart and to be HEARD. So often I have failed him, because I have viewed our need for talking as a defect -- I figured we both needed to hush and speak only when we had something important to say. Seeing it as a form of intelligence, however, is a different story altogether. He needs to process it out loud -- just like I do -- and needs someone who is willing and wanting to listen.

Comparing my reactions to him and my mom's reactions to me is, well, laughable (if it weren't so sad).

Final result: I'm going to try to remember how horrible this feels, and use it to make me a better mom for my son. I have no desire to make him feel this way. I want him to look back on his childhood with great joy, and say that no matter what, "My mom took the time to listen to me."

Knock your socks off inspirational quote

“God accepts our desires as though they were a great value. He longs ardently for us to desire and love him. He accepts our petitions for benefits as though we were doing him a favor. His joy in giving is greater than ours in receiving. So let us not be apathetic in our asking, nor set too narrow bounds to our requests; nor ask for frivolous things unworthy of God’s greatness.” 

 

 ~St. Gregory Nazianzen~

Happy New Year!

The first food I ate in 2014...

 ...was a cricket.

 How many people can say that?

And yet, there you go.

 My husband has had this interest in going beyond his comfort zone and exploring other sources of nutrition (i.e. "bugs") for a few months now. Nothing obsessive -- more along the lines of, "Could I possibly get past my American upbringing and eat something that many in the rest of the world consider normal?"

 Enter the Eat a Bug Cookbook that went on his wishlist for Christmas this year.

I was NOT about to get him this, so I thought I was safe... until my brother came along and decided this was JUST the book my husband needed.

Not one to back down from a challenge... or to slow down when a specific course of action has been decided upon... my beloved ordered bugs, which arrived my the big brown van on New Year's Eve. We returned from Mass to see the box upon the front steps, and I knew that my fate was sealed.

We were going to eat bugs.

Now, to be fair, there was no way that he was going to ask any of us to do it... but there was also no way that I was going to let him walk this path alone, nor was I going to let it be said that I was a coward who backed down because it was too "ooky."

Yes, those are crickets that have been baked in an oven. Nice and crunchy.

And this is me, in all my blurriness, actually eating one. To be fair, judging totally by taste alone, it's a bit like eating pork rinds. A bunch of crunch, with just a hint of aftertaste. In reality, however, I ate a bug. A real, honest-to-goodness bug. And I was not happy about it. I was on the phone at the time, talking to my parents, and sharing the experience with them as well. I'm pretty sure a lot of "eww! Eww! Eww!" was said during that time.

Next came caterpillar cookies. Actually, those are wax worm caterpillars.. or whatever... on top.

And yes, I muscled down one of those, too. I pretty much just went for the caterpillar because, quite honestly, I think white chocolate is just as gross, and I wasn't about to add that to the list of insults my mouth was enduring. Again, going simply by taste, there really wasn't much there. But mentally, this pretty much sent me over the edge.

The final round was crickets in orzo. By this time I just grabbed a forkful, ate it to show my kids that I wasn't going to let them go anywhere I wasn't willing to go, and called it done. This was actually the least offensive of the bunch, and if you didn't see their little faces looking out at you, you might actually eat this one with no trouble.

I could show you pictures of all my kids taking turns eating what Daddy made, but let's just leave it with this little guy:

Joseph, who knew full well what he was eating... but doesn't have the sense of cultural taboos that the rest of us do... found his cookie to be delicious and ate the whole darn thing.

My two oldest boys ate everything without the slightest hesitation. My third son, Thomas, wanted firm promises that the caterpillar cookies would not come in contact with any of the REAL cookies in the cookie jar.

My girls tried just about everything, but were less than enthusiastic in their responses.

My mother-in-law, ever the optimist, was eager and willing to try it all... and try it she did. Being the farm girl that she is at heart, she was much more able to get past the mental block that the rest of us have, and was able to judge it more on the merits of taste. While it wasn't anything that she would run to as a first choice of food, she saw nothing wrong with any of it, and would eat it if that was what was on the menu. My husband was able to say the same.

Thankfully, after a morning of trying all sorts of new things, the kitchen was turned over to me, and I was able to cook a very NORMAL meal of pork roast, cabbage/onions/sausage, mashed potatoes, and stewed apples/cranberries for our New Year's meal.

In more exciting news (for me, at least)

I made a sock!!!!
A real, honest-to-goodness sock!!!!

This is really huge for me, because I have ALWAYS been intimidated by projects such as these. Only REAL knitters (or crocheters) could pull off something like this. Not me.

But something happened during Advent, as I was working on various projects. I began to see that there is not just one, "right" way to do a heel, or a cuff, or whatever. Once I saw the "why's" of the various steps, I was able to see a bit more clearly where I could change things, or fudge, or whatever. It became a more fun process... like cooking, for me... and less a series of steps that I had to follow slavishly or risk ruining the whole thing. That mental shift done, I was able to enjoy it and the end result was a "Christmas sock" (you have to say it like Mr. Bean) that fit my daughter's feet perfectly.

Hallelujah!

Happy New Year, y'all!

Amazing commercial

My pastor sent this to several moms in our parish yesterday, and it was just too good not to share.

If you're not crying happy tears after it all, well...

10 Most Influential Books

Julie over at Happy Catholic asked her readers a few days ago to participate in the "10 Books That Have Stayed With You" meme.  Being the avid reader that I am, I thought this would be an easy exercise... but it wasn't. I could think of tons of books that I have read... and many that I quote from, or reference, often in my life... but which ones to list?

I must admit that I felt very lowbrow after reading everyone else's list. There were many, many classics on there that I've either never read, or never got much out of (oh, for shame!)

But, I can't be what I'm not, and my list is... well, my list. So here, in no order of importance, is my list (as of Monday evening. Ask me tomorrow and I may change the list completely!)

1. A Man Called Peter (Catherine Marshall)
This is the book that started me on my faith journey, as it were. I was born and raised Catholic, but I never really got the whole "WE are supposed to have a relationship with Jesus" idea into my head. I assumed that was for saints, and the rest of us schmucks just have to make due as best as we could. I would read the stories of the saints and try to live vicariously through them, imagining what it must be like to have Jesus love you like that. I picked this up in the library thinking this was going to be about St. Peter, my favorite apostle. My bad. Instead, it was about Peter Marshall, the Senate chaplain in the 1940s. In this story I saw a normal, everyday guy... and a PROTESTANT to boot!... who had that sort of relationship I was craving. Totally rocked my world. Of course, it also was the start of my foray into the Protestant world, but I digress (fast forward to the end of the story... I came back)

2. John, Son of Thunder (Ellen Gunderson Traylor)
3. The Big Fisherman (Lloyd C. Douglas)
I checked these two books out over... and over... and over again, until finally my good friend (who happened to be an atheist) went out and bought The Big Fisherman for me for my birthday. God love her! They both got me to contemplate the mind-blowing fact that Our Lord became HUMAN. The Incarnation never fails to stun me.

4. Surprised by Joy (C.S. Lewis)
This wasn't my first C.S. Lewis book, but it was the one where he described (oddly) what he means by joy -- and that definition stuck with me, and I can't experience an autumn day... or take a walk around my block in the evening... without his words coming back.

5. Mere Christianity (C.S. Lewis)
Great book, with so many quotes I bring up repeatedly. It's worth reading, and rereading, and reading again.

6. Yours, Jack (C.S. Lewis letters)
Pretty much EVERY book by C.S. Lewis should be on this list. I've been changed by all of them. This one, however, is a compilation of the letters he wrote as "spiritual direction" in one form or another. Not only was it spiritually uplifting, but it also rekindled in me the desire to WRITE letters to others (as in cursive with a paper and pen... not banging out something on a keyboard)

7. The Hobbit (J.R.R. Tolkien)
8. The Lord of the Rings (J.R.R. Tolkien)
Alright, I'll admit this. I read both of them, but the books didn't do much for me. The story brought to the big screen, however, did. Now, I will say that my older kids have read (and reread, and reread) these stories I can't begin to say how many times, so it's just me not getting much out of the printed story. The movies, however, have brought me to tears, and affected me deeply.

9. And Then There Were None (Agatha Christie)
My 5th grade teacher read this aloud to us, and this was the first (and only) time I was read to after being taught how to read... and the experience stayed with me. So much so that here I am, many decades later, still doing read alouds to my kids (even my teenagers) and loving it. (and yes, I read this one to them over the summer.)

10. He & I (Gabrielle Bossis)
Amazing, amazing book. Jesus talked to her, and she wrote it down. Simple as that, and yet I think I have underlined something on every single page.


Other books in my list (if it went on) would include:
11. The Body (Chuck Colson)
Read this during my Protestant years, and was moved to TEARS by the story of St. Maximillian Kolbe. I had never heard his story before, and it reminded me that yes, Catholics were in fact Christians as well (I had a rough couple of years)

12. The Confessions of St. Augustine
Read this in my Western Civ class in college (again, during my Protestant years) and was again slammed with Catholicism... AND the fact that saints were real people, just like us.

13. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
Again, no to the book, but yes to the BBC series with Colin Firth. Amazing story, and I'm just sorry that I couldn't slog through the book (I don't do well with 19th century literature in general... although Moby Dick and The Count of Monte Cristo were surprisingly fun reads... well, except for the chapter on whales...) "Alas, Flask was a butterless man" is a standard phrase in our house!

If anyone reads this post and would care to contribute in the comments box below, I'd be thrilled!!!