Drops of Awesome

Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson

Tip Tuesday — No Place Like Home?

by

I went to public school. I liked public school, minus the years of purgatory generally referred to as Junior High. Would someone please tell me next time before I decide to exhibit my keychain collection in the school library in between the guy who collects bugs and the girl who collects miniature plastic unicorns? It won’t turn out well. I will not make new friends. The 13-year-olds who say, “Wow, cool collection!” in a mock-nasal tone are not being sincere. They think I’m a tard-loaf who should pack up my 50-ton plastic glasses and tin-laced smile and head back to the band room. I will cry… every day… for 3 years.

Now I’m getting Laylee ready for preschool which is, in essence, in fact, so-called because it is indeed a “pre” school, if you will. PRE-SCHOOL??? Nu-uh. I am so not ready for this. Many of you have given me great advice about finding a preschool and several have suggested that I consider keeping Laylee home. This is something I think about all the time, not in terms of preschool but as a possible long-term educational solution.

When I was young, homeschool kids were stereotyped as fundamentalist weirdos who stayed home to avoid getting beat up. We thought of them as strange, socially inept and clueless about the world around them. I suspected they were all anarchists or at the very least unfamiliar with or opposed to standard social and hygienic rituals.

I’m not sure I knew a single homeschooled kid because they were probably chained up in a basement somewhere without deodorant, memorizing nuclear equations and weaving baskets with their own ankle-length hair.

In the 15 years since I started high school, things have changed drastically in the homeschool community and in people’s perceptions of homeschooling. I personally know several outstanding women (some even in real life — gasp!) who have made very educated choices to keep their children out of the public system.

At this point, I have a really favorable opinion of homeschooling but I’m not sure what we will do when the time comes.

I know it’s true, as Abby commented on my preschool post, that “there’s no place like home” and honestly that’s what scares me about not putting my kids in school. There is no place like home and if I don’t let my kids experience the world, will they be in for a junior-high-style emotional butt-kicking when they turn 18 and head off to college?

Will it just be delayed reality-shock, aggravated by years of hanging around with their mom, polishing the key chains and learning in an environment tailored specifically to them? As much as it sucked to be tormented for three years in Junior High, I learned a lot about myself through those experiences, only some of it from reading nasty things people wrote about me on the bathroom wall.

On the other hand, I don’t want to thrust my kids into the deep end with the sharks if they can learn quite nicely at home with me in a warm and safe environment and still find a way to adjust well and become fully functioning members of society.

Do you homeschool your kids or send them to public or private schools? What is your reasoning for this? I’d like to know more about why you do what you do to help me make my post preschool decision.

Harder to Transcribe

by

Conversations with Magoo are a little harder to transcribe so I thought I’d just share some of his speech with you via video-blog. He’s learning to mimic well and even uses some words in context. At this point drinks are still “geeks” and he has erased the word “yes” from his little lexicon. In place of “yes” he says “please” or “fweeee”. EVERY. TIME.

Some things to notice – The giant curls sticking out of his head, the way he says “Whaaaaa?” like an annoyed teenager when he’s busy and I try to get him to face the camera, the look on his face when I take the phone away.

If you’re my mom, you may enjoy this video. If you’re someone else, I’ll get back to work and write something for you tomorrow.


Photo Sharing – Upload Video – <a “href=http://www.dropshots.com/”>Video Sharing – <a “href=http://www.dropshots.com/”>Share Photos

More Convos With Laylee

by

This afternoon I was trying to take a wee nap. What better time for Laylee to engage in some fascinating discussion?

Laylee: The monsters are keeping me awake.
Me [lobbing an imaginary can with my eyes still closed]: Spray them with this Monster Spray.
Laylee: Okay, I sprayed them and it killed them and now they’re DEAD.
Me: That’s kind of harsh. Usually I just spray them and it makes them sneeze so they leave my room.
Laylee: Well they’re really annoying and I want them to be dead. So I spray them and then they die. Then I throw them out in the forest with the lions and they eat them and then they poop them out in the toilet and flush them away. I don’t like monsters.

When I relayed this conversation to Dan, he remarked that she has quite a vivid understanding of the circle of life, or, I might add, the digestive system.

Laylee: I just said a little prayer and Jesus said it’s time for us to play a game.
Me: Maybe if He said that, He’ll play a game with you. I’m sleeping.
Laylee: Nope. He says He wants you to play it. He’s tired.

I know He is, but what am I?

I Washed the Spider Out

by

When we moved into this house, it was with the understanding that the mangled filthy mini-blinds would vacate immediately, if not sooner.

I could have cleaned them 7 months ago but I knew we would be replacing them AT ANY MOMENT so I didn’t bother.
My solution has been to keep them up at all times so I don’t have to constantly be faced with the previous owner’s dinner splatter from the great spaghetti adventure of 1991.

Consequently, the squirrels in the forest behind our house are constantly faced with me shlepping around in my bathrobe. But dude, they’re naked and I don’t think I’ve ever seen them putting on deodorant. So why don’t they get some blinds and stop yelling at me?

Our heating bill for the last 2 months indicates that any measure we could take to reduce energy consumption would be for the benefit of society and may keep us from losing the farm. So we’ve decided to close the blinds at night to help keep the heat in.

It’s actually working but tonight I closed them too early. I sat at dinner, staring at a flat spider body, pressed perfectly between the metal blinds like a daisy in a poetry book, only spookier and less appetizing. I stared at it for 10 minutes before I got up to get a paper towel. The spider is gone now and I’m even thinking about taking some Pine-sol and a blow-torch to those things.

Considering that we’re now counting all of our expenses in terms of hours of preschool, making do with the blinds we have may be our ticket to Laylee’s pre-K education.

Tip Tuesday — Just a Smidge Country

by

I grew up hating country music. HATE. I’m not sure why except that hating country music was the cool thing to do and since I was not cool, I spent a lot of time doing the things that would supposedly transform me into that enviable chilly state.

No one probably cared that I didn’t listen to country music but I knew that if I was ever shoved into a junior high locker and forced to admit ever listening to the detestable stuff, I could answer “NO! Take off, eh?” with a clear conscience.

When I moved from Canada to Houston my junior year of High School, I was slowly exposed to country music by friends and more importantly boys. I liked boys who liked country music, who went to rodeos for more than the funnel cake, who knew what FFA stood for. I needed to speak their language and during that time became familiar and somewhat in like with a few big country artists.

When I left Texas, my interest dwindled and I’ve become indifferent to the twangular style of music. Lately I’ve been trying to expose the kids to a bunch of different musical styles. Laylee still loves Bob Marley but I’ve been having trouble finding something that really moves Magoo. He will not dance. This week I was playing the second movement of Verdi’s Requiem when Magoo started going nuts, rocking out, bopping and laughing hysterically. There’s nothing like Funeral music for dead poets to encourage this younger generation to get their freak on.

Anywho, it’s a bit disturbing. I don’t think it should take tympanis and operatic solos in a minor key to get Magoo dancing. So today I played some Garth Brooks and he appeared to like that too, if cautiously.

I’m ready to get my feet wet again in the world of country. What should I start with? What are the must have artists and songs to bring a recovering Backstreet Boys and Tchaikovsky fan into the world of belt buckles the size of your mamma?

Polly’s Godless House of Hoochie-Wear

by

Laylee was playing Polly Pockets with a grownup friend the other day. I wasn’t around but here’s the way I heard it went down.

Laylee: This dress is beautiful.
Marge: Yeah.
Laylee: But it’s not modest.
Marge: Hmm..
Laylee: Should she wear it?
Marge: I don’t know. What do you think?
Laylee [carefully considering]: I think she should wear it. There’s no Heavenly Father in Polly’s world so it’s probably okay.

Speaking of evil empires, I canNOT stop listening to this guy. Can. Not.

Love and Babies

by

It’s that time again. February is almost upon us so it’s time to Share the Love. Go on over and nominate someone you love today. I’m excited to find some new reads. (I’m ineligable due to your ridiculous kindness last year.)

Also, today at parenting.com I’m talking about my addiction to having babies. How do you know when you’re done?

NoI’mNot YesYouAre

by

I was recently babysitting for a friend’s daughter, an adorable little 2-year-old elf who can spell her 3-syllable last name perfectly. She reminds me of a corporate executive in miniature with bulbous pig-tale buns, marching around the house and calling me by my last name.

“Thompson! Excuse me! What does this toy do?”

“Hey THOMPSON! Excuse me! Where are you?”

I spent the morning laughing at her polite attempts at dictatorship and asking her to spell things and coach Magoo at football.

At one point she and Magoo got into a tiff about something in which one was yelling yes and the other was yelling no. They stood about 5 inches apart, hollering at each other until they forgot whose job it was to say “yes” and who was rooting for “no” to win.

Half an hour later, I was called onto the field or into the boardroom or whatever.

sippin' sodaOlive: Thompson! Who’s in that picture?”
Me: Me and Laylee’s Dad.
Olive: What are you doing?
Me: We’re drinking soda.
Olive: But what are you doing, Thompson?
Me: Drinking soda.
Olive: No. You’re kissing.
Me: No we’re not.
Olive: Yes. You’re kissing.
Me: No. [pulling the picture down] See, we’re just drinking soda from two straws that are very close together.
Olive [eyeing the photo suspiciously]: O-kaaay.

Then she was off with purposeful steps, her hair bouncing sweetly behind her. My word! I need to get me a kid like that. Acutally, I don’t need a kid like that. I think I would die from the cuteness.

Then Laylee punched her in the face. I really hope her mom doesn’t mind large red facial welts. She could have fallen asleep on her arm. Sometimes that leaves a mark. Ayayay.

I do want to point out my favorite parts of this picture, the parts no one notices, the reasons I still keep it framed in my front room.

tadpole

#1 — The tadpole — This picture was taken right after I peed on a stick, saw a double pink line for the first time and announced it to my entire family. What could be more romantic than that? I bet you’d share a soda in public too if it happened to you.

what the?

#2 — This guy — He would not share a soda. I love the horrified look on his face. “Are they kissing? At an outdoor theater? Does this lawn chair come with a vomit receptacle?”

I now close my eyes tightly, throw a penny in our backyard puddle and wish that guy was available to make facial commentary in the background of all our family photos.

I Support Choice and Natural Consequences

by

Today is Blog for Choice Day and posts are popping up everywhere in support of Roe v. Wade and a woman’s right to choose.

The labels that fly around show the biases of those who wield them. I could be called “pro-life”, “anti-abortion”, “anti-choice”, “crazy conservative religious wacko” or any number of names due to the fact that with the ability to choose, I believe there comes a moral responsibility.

I believe that one of the greatest gifts we have in this life is the agency to choose our own actions. Before we choose, we need to think about the natural consequences our actions will have on us and those around us.

At a pretty early age, I learned what happens when a man and woman engage in sexual intimacy. At a slightly older age, the mysteries of birth control were explained to me, along with their effectiveness rates at inhibiting pregnancy and STDs.

It is every woman’s choice what she does with her own body. If she chooses to overeat, smoke 10 paks a day, run a marathon, or have sex with another person, then she has the right to make that choice and deal with the consequences.

When her choices put her in a position to have a dramatic influence over another person’s life or death, she suddenly needs to act more responsibly. If her husband quits his job and lays around all day expecting to be supported, does she have the right to cap him off so that he’ll no longer be a drain on her finances? If her 18-month-old turns out to be a destructo and a nuisance and she can no longer go out clubbing every night, can she toss him down the garbage chute and move on with her life?

Technically, a woman does not have the legal right to choose either of these things. What if the baby was only 3 months old and had colic? Still not legal. What if he was in utero and just starting to suck his thumb? Many people would like this to be legal and at times it has been. What if his little heart and brain were still developing at an amazing rate and he was completely defenseless? Bing! At this point, our country considers it okay to terminate the baby’s life so that the mother can move on with hers.

What if the woman didn’t make the choice to have sex, such as in cases of rape or incest? Of course she should be given the choice to recover her choice that was taken away by force. What if the pregnancy puts the mother’s life at risk? Of course she should have the option of terminating her pregnancy in self-defense. Either of these circumstances would be agonizing but the mother should have the option to save her life or reclaim her body after it was taken over by violence.

Having carried 2 children to term, I cannot imagine thinking its okay to kill a child of any age simply as a form of belated birth control, because the timing just isn’t right or to avoid putting a crimp in my lifestyle.

I think of wonderful people like my sister who anxiously wait to adopt a child when millions are snuffed in a quick and easy procedure each year. The idea that the only alternative to abortion for the accidentally pregnant is a lifetime of unwanted motherhood is absurd. There are so many choices available.

Personally, I choose to be responsible for my own actions and accept the consequences that they produce. I choose to love and protect the most innocent and defenseless among us rather than subjugating their rights because they’re too little to organize a protest rally.