We finally decided to give up the delusion of having a dining room with a single purpose. Without lots of common rooms, it was turning much more into a space for arts-and-crap than eating, and it took an hour’s worth of clean-up every time we decided to sit down for a meal.

When thinking of organizational fixes for the mess, I knew no solution that involved filing or storing items in tidy little boxes would work for me. Out of site is most definitely out of mind. And while there are many things this room needs if it is to ever be both functional and attractive, I decided the first order of business was some way to put calendars, bills, to-do lists and a handful of art projects right in my face. A bulletin board seemed like the obvious choice.

I had the idea for a big bulletin board even before we made the decision to homeschool: the sheer volume of worksheets, permission slips reminders, and drawings that came home from both schools was overwhelming in and of itself. But now that we will all be using the dining room as our home base for projects and activities of every variety … well, it was just time.

As luck would have it, we had one big empty wall in our dining room. But when I started researching bulletin boards, I was shocked at the prices. We’re talking hundreds of dollars for a nothing-fancy, school room-style board. I considered magnetic paint briefly, but thought that might pose more problems if we ever wanted to reclaim and repaint the walls …

Then my brilliant friend Jung suggested homasote board. It comes in 4 ft. x 8 ft. sheets for about $25 at Home Depot, and they’ll cut it for you. I had mine cut to 4 ft. x 6 ft., loaded it into the back of my van, and then … well, then I let it sit, stowed behind the futon in the sun room, for a couple of months.

This weekend I finally pulled out fabric to cover it. There was the plain, natural, un-dyed cotton I got from Wal-Mart for less than $3/yard. That seemed like the obvious, neutral, CHEAP choice, but it was just too boring. There were also the bright orange vintage sheets with white flower print my sister gifted me on my last visit, but as much as I loved it, just the thought of covering the whole board in that fabric made my eyes bleed a little. The peachy linen with pale-white polka dots I picked up at an estate sale seemed like a happy medium, but it was just as boring as the beige when spread across the expansive board, and really much better suited to spring dresses for the girls.

I finally decided on the natural cotton with a splash of the orange sheeting. I deconstructed a pillowcase and quickly stitched the two fabrics together. I had planned to use spray tac to help hold the fabric to the board, but rain hampered my plans, and it’s just as well. I fond a how-to here that walked me through stapling the fabric to the board. It was very easy, and no huffing glue to worry about.

Check out my finished product, all pretty and austere. Speaking of austere, did you see the board in my how-to link? First, her corners are much neater than mine. But check out her fabric! Did I see that before and just forget? I feel like a copy cat. Though I have a feeling it won’t be long before our boards look much different. Hers will probably stay pretty and austere much longer than mine. I just don’t have that aesthetic.

See?!?

Half an hour after my board hits the wall, this is what it looks like. I’m playing around with a week-at-a-glance-type calendar. That’s what those index cards are. I’m not loving them. Or their colors! I’m thinking some sort of die-cut letters to mark the days of the week. Adam suggested hanging ribbon beneath each day marker off of which I could then hang my activity cards. That would keep me out of T-pin hell.

And while I like the positioning of the calendar for seeing what’s going on, I think I may need to move it down. See that blue rubber floor tile there on the sideboard? I had to kneel on that while I put up the calendar. That’s probably not what I want to do every time I make a change, huh?

I also have two Lucite wall pockets: one for bills and one for brochures, etc. of places we might want to go. We’ll see. It’s a function I need, I’m just not so sure about the execution.

What I am loving, though, is having somewhere easy to display some of the kids’ artwork. I plan to change it up frequently (they are prolific), though I may be hard pressed to take down my current favorite:

That’s Hannah’s self portrait.

“Look, Mommy. That’s me! And there’s my blue pen!”

Makes me laugh every time I see it.

OK, I’m looking for suggestions of what to do with that calendar. Somebody please help me out. I don’t want my beautiful bulletin board to go ugly.

(They are all feeling just fine now, thank you very much, but are likely still shedding virus, so I’m trying to be responsible.)

So, as annoying as it is to be cooped up in the Summer, mostly what it has me thinking about is how conflicted I was feeling about Joseph and his sick days toward the end of the school year.

Joseph missed 25 days of school last year — 25!!! — and was late another 16. They didn’t give me an accounting of how many days the nurse called me to come pick him up because he was “sick.”

That’s it. It’s the air quotes around the word sick that had me in a knot.

As a true believer in Attachment Parenting, I have always felt that because of my connection to the kids, I know what’s going on with them. I know the motivations behind their actions even when they seem contradictory, and I can read the expressions on their faces from across the room or when the words don’t come.

But there we were, all playing a part in this institutionalized lie.

After numerous “miraculous recoveries” and numerous frustrations over interrupted days and plans, I began to question and doubt when Joseph told me he didn’t feel well. I encouraged the nurse to try and cajole him into staying at school when he showed up in her office sans fever or other symptom that would necessitate his leaving.

That’s not to say that I didn’t believe that he didn’t feel “well.” I just wasn’t sure what to do. What the right thing to do was.

Part of me wanted to say, “Joseph, if you don’t want to go, just stay home.” And then spend the day reconnecting and refilling his emotional tank.

But part of me worried about “what message it would send.” About following rules. About doing hard things. About making the best of a less than perfect situation. And rightly or wrongly, that’s the part that won out. Over, and over, and over again.

So, here we are. All sick in the middle of summer when we’d rather be at the pool or the movies (I’d promised Ponyo) or visiting friends. And there’s not a doubt in my mind about how the kids feel. And there’s not a doubt in my mind about how to react to it. Or the teeniest worry that I must make sure they don’t “have too much fun” for fear that it will encourage them to malinger another day.

And I’m realizing that it feels good.

The kids decided the other day that it was a nice day for a tea party. So they got dressed in their best clothes” (Joseph’s suggestions) while I put the water on to boil, and then they set the menu while the tea was steeping.

• Blueberry Rooibos tea and water to drink
• Rice cakes and soy crisps with apple butter
• Cherries
• Cheese

(A little monochromatic for my tastes, but it was sort of thrown together in a hurry.)

We pulled out the china because, well, when else is it going to gt used? And then each of the kids invited a “guest.”

Hannah invited Ariel.

Joseph invited a slinky. Mr. Slinky, to be exact. (You can see him up top taking a bite of Joseph’s rice cake.) I guess any toy with a social titlee should be welcome at the tea party, no?

Yet another item from the list checked off. I don’t know if the kids even remember that there is a list – I’m not reminding them; they just ask to do things and we do them — but it makes for good filler for the blog. (-:

My little monkey boy has a new favorite way to expend energy:

Number 29 from the list, “Play in doorways.”

The picture above is pretty standard: he just wedges himself between the two doorways and schooches himself up. But one of his newest tricks is to just walk straight up one wall. I suspect the bottoms of his feet resemble those of a tree frog, but I haven’t been able to verify this.

Then there’s the trick his father just can’t bare to watch for fear that Joseph will come crashing down on his head:

Surprise, surprise: this one is Joseph’s favorite.

And, not to be outdone, Hannah …

and Miriam …

must get in on the action.

We we first started considering this little adventure, the two things I worried about most were finding some time for myself and finding some one-on-one time with each kid. Not that there aren’t plenty of other things to worry about — will my kids be able to read, will they be on track with their peers, blah, blah, blah — but strictly from a sanity standpoint … I mean everything could else could be picture perfect, but if I never got a break from the kids, well, I can’t imagine it would go too well. And I didn’t relish the thought of running out the door the second Adam walked in, either. I like my husband and enjoy spending time with him. I’d need to find my breaks some other way.

Miriam’s babysitter had been great for her up until now, but 1) she moved from down the street to the next town over. Not far, but no longer exceedingly convenient either. And 2) she’s a warm, nurturing grandmotherly type. Perfect considering Miriam started going once a week when she was just 5 months old, but now that she’s getting older and more active, I don’t know that it’s the ideal setting. Would she be right for Joe and Hannah? Definitely not.

I talked to another woman I know who watches kids and who comes highly recommended by a dear friend. But I did the math, and to send two kids (not even three!) once a week would end up being half of what I’m “saving” by pulling Hannah from preschool.

I was starting to worry about this “me time” business.

Then two weeks ago a friend offered me her half share in a CSA. She was going on vacation and didn’t want it to go to waste. Pick-up was at the JCC. I ended up taking all three kids with me, and after we picked up our veggies and eggs, we walked around the art gallery. We walked out in the garden. We wandered down the halls and looked at the artwork on display. On our way out I asked for some membership information.

We’ve joined the JCC several times since moving here. It’s only 3 miles from the house and the facilities, nice at the time, have been updated and expanded. I joined the masters swim team for a while, I tool a jewelry making class and an Israeli folk dancing class. Joseph too a swimming lessons there once (if sitting on the side watching counts). But mostly I’ve made poor use of my memberships in the past.

But this time I think joining  the JCC could be the secret to our homeschooling success. One of the new features is two hours/day of included babysitting!

That’s HUGE. It means someone else will play games and do art projects with the kids while I go swimming, take a yoga class, or even sit in the cafe sipping an iced coffee and reading a book! It also means that I can take one kid swimming or walking the track (or maybe even sing an empty dance or art room?) without having to watch the other two at the same time.

Did I mention? HUGE.

This sounds silly even as I say it, but I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me.

I think this time I may finally get my money’s worth at the JCC.

It’s a little scary, but it feels good. And right.

Our first official act was to go to the library and check out a total of seven books, four books on tape, and six movies. Then we went to the pool.

So give a cheer! And wish us luck!

It’s nice having a membership to the zoo, even if I don’t always make as good of use of it as I intend. Today, after crossing 19. go ice skating from the list and realizing it was too cloudy for 45. go to the pool, we decided to walk from the arena to the zoo to kill the two hours left until needing to pick Miri up from the sitter’s. Membership makes such quick trips feasible — and frankly, two hours is about my limit at the zoo. I’m glad we went as we discovered a couple very exciting additions since our last visit:

1. young prairie dog pups.
The prairie dogs are usually cute, but 20 or so pups make for a very active, very wrestley display:

Hannah was enthralled and stayed watching them long after Joseph wandered over to the playground. That’s the other nice thing about the membership: I don’t care how they want to spend their time once inside the gates. If I’d payed a day-rate admission I’d have had to fight the urge to rush them along to look at the animals. Withe the membership, if they want to go just to look at the penguins, ride the train, or even play on the playground, it’s fine by me.

2. the new Budgie Aviary
I may have known somewhere that this was happening, but it was a lovely surprise. Only complaint: Just give the kids the little seed sticks to feed the birds rather than charge $2 for seed that likely costs less than pennies. Please!

Of course I forked over the $2 for one stick, and we were lucky enough that someone handed us two more sticks they were done with, so we all got to play along.

Joseph was very patient waiting for a bird to land on his stick. I was so impressed with him when, after waiting for at least 10 minutes to lure a bird onto his stick and having another child knock it right off, he brushed his disappointment aside and picked another less crowed spot to try again. he aquealed with delight when that first bird landed on hi stick and let him lift it into the air.

Hannah would only feed blue birds. And insisted that they be referred to as “she” and “her.” She also preferred her stick to stay resting firmly on the ground.

We finished out outing with a ride on the train.

As we were leaving the kids asked, “Can we come back tomorrow to go into the reptile house?”

Maybe not tomorrow, but Monday or Tuesday sounds good.

Our synagogue had a rummage sale this past weekend. My husband teased me for wanting to pay $5 to go to the “preview sale” Thursday night, but I had birthday money to spend and big Camp Wolff plans: I wanted board games.

As soon as we walked in the door I made a bee-line for the toys sections. But while there was a table piled high with board games, there were few that I really wanted to buy. Still feel like I scored, though:

• A vintage Mille Bornes game. My mom bought this back in the 80s when she was teaching French. I loved playing it. Hope the kids will, too.
• Harvest Time. I’d never seen this game, and was too distracted to read all the directions, but it looked like it could be decent. I liked that it wasn’t “Dora’s Harvest Time” or “Harvest Time with the Disney Princesses,” not that the princesses would harvest, mind. I’ll let you know what I think of it once we crack into it.
• Hi Ho! Cherry-O. This seems boring to me, but Joseph suggested we buy it because it was something we all — meaning Hannah, too — could play together. Hard to resist that logic.
• Harold and the Purple Crayon Game. I love the book, so I thought I’d take a chance on the game. LOVE it.

This is a game that would be easy enough to recreate, btw. The contents are a white board, two purple washable markers, and a stack of 50 or so cards with simple, line-drawn objects (tree, rabbit, airplane, ladder, dragon, apple …) with their names written at the bottom. Players take turns selecting cards, drawing the object on the board and then making up a story about it. The next player builds on the story — or creates a new one all together — keeping the objects in order. It’s great fun.

The games were listed at $3 each. I think that’s a little high for rummage sale prices, but I considered it a donation to the Synagogue. And they gave us a deal: 4 for $10.

Looking down the list to items 30 and 33, I also scooped up some big square silk scarves for playing dress-up and a microscope for the science experiments Joseph wants to do.

Silk scarves (along with old pantyhose) were among my favorite dress up clothes when I was little. They are so versatile you can turn them into anything … including a nice hobo pack when you decide that you want to run away from home. I’m just saying.

We also had a microscope when I was a kid, and I loved it. I was actually always really terrible at looking through one eye — I seem to remember seeing more eyelash than magnified slide — but I really loved the aesthetics of playing with the microscope. We’ll see what the kids think of it.