Obviously it has been awhile since I have been here. Why? Well, first of all, I did the big no-no and started looking at other homeschooler blogs. I know, I know, I swore I wasn't going to torture myself with comparisons anymore but apparently I am a glutton for punishment. Every other homeschool mom is apparently spending her 24 hours coming up with creative, amazing educational opportunities for their children whilst I secretly wonder if I am permanently damaging my children. I berate myself for my self-centered, lazy nature and sullenly walk away for the computer and curse those moms singing songs and playing the flute with their prodigy children. Nothing a pint of Haagen-Daaz won't fix.
And then of course are the basic challenges of spending such an inordinate amount of time with my children. I love them to death, but 24/7 without any break for months on end has really been pushing me over the edge. Perhaps after over 7 years of being home it is time to think about a change. The first change I have to make is trying to scrape together some "me" time, not as easy as one might think, but maybe 2 or 3 hours a week would work. The second change is looming on the horizon, as we contemplate putting the kids in school next September. There is a certain amount of heartbreak for me as I contemplate that change, but also a bit of relief.
I can't say what the future holds but right now I will continue to do my best and enjoy the rest of this schoolyear with the kids and try to cut myself some slack for not being the "perfect" homeschooling mom - I'll just be me and know that to my kids, I already am perfect.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Compassion
We had an incredible opportunity last month at a local treasure, the Mariposa Museum in Peterborough, NH. A group of Tibetan monks from a monastery in India were in town to create a mandala at the museum. We were lucky to attend a program for homeschoolers and see the beginning of the creation of this sacred work.
Mandala is a Sanskrit word meaning "circle" at its most basic level, but is imbued with much more meaning than that. This website explains it well. The sand mandala, which takes days to complete, is used to explore the impermanance of life, an integral concept of Buddhism. Coupled with specific chants and rituals, the creation of the mandala is a spiritual practice that goes way beyond the beauty of the creation we see before us. The particular mandala we saw created was called a mandala of compassion, another important concept in Buddhism. Compassion is not seen as just feeling sorry for someone who is sad or in pain, but rather, as wanting happiness for all people, not just those in our inner circle. This website can help you learn more (scroll down to the bottom.)
At any rate, we arrived and learned a bit about what mandalas are, and we discussed mandalas in nature (tree rings, the moon, snowflakes) and different cultures. We then went upstairs to where the monks were starting the mandala. A hush came over the children as we ascended the top step and heard the deep guttural chanting of the monks. One monk was hunched over scraping the sand from what are called "chak-pur" metal tools to apply the sand to the mandala. The area was cordoned off with prayer flags, so the children were able to get quite close without invading the sacred space.
The children were fascinated and very respectful. I, of course, had visions of G. tripping over a sandal and falling headlong over the flags into the center of the mandala, sand flying everywhere. But my fears were not realized as he stood mesmerized for about 5 minutes, at which point he was completely bored. I could have stood there all day and watched. It is quite amazing, really. We learned that there is a "mandala master" who oversees the placement of the sand and a "chanting master" who leads the monks in chanting.
Six days later, we went back to see the completion of the mandala and the ceremony that would take place at the end. Imagine, 6 days of painstaking attention to detail, knowing that the end result would be to sweep your creation away and throw the sand in the river. Can we really wrap our American consumerist mentalities around it?
The finished mandala. This picture doesn't do it justice. The colors are much deeper and richer, and they are applied in layers, giving it a raised appearance.
From the balcony.
After a short time of contemplating the mandala, the monks came in and sat and explained the mandala through an interpreter. They then donned their hats and began to chant and circle the mandala.
Then they began to dismantle it, one of the monks drawing four lines with his finger from the center to the outside edge of the mandala. They then began to sweep all of the sand into the center of the table, and just like that, it was gone.
After offering everyone a small packet of sand, the rest was gathered into a small jar and we all followed the monks, chanting and waving incense out of the museum and to the river. We passed quite a few surprised folks in the street and at the farmer's market!
I can't resist posting this picture.
After a few chants and prayers, the sand was poured into the river and the monks turned to leave and go back to India, having left us with an experience we will never forget and will always be grateful for.
If you are interested in learning more about Buddhism, check out this website. If you are interested in getting involved to help Tibet, check out www.freetibet.org.
The destruction of monasteries, the resettlement of Chinese into Tibet, the teaching of Chinese language and culture to Tibetan children at the expense of their own, all of these are deliberate and systematic attempts to obliterate Tibetan culture. Through the oppression of Tibetan religion/culture, the Chinese hope to eradicate Tibet and make it China. Can we afford to let that happen? Can we truly embody compassion and ensure that we do, what we consume, where we spend our money is not hurting anyone else? Can we come a bit closer to understanding that nothing is permanant, that everything ends, that selfless love is achievable? Aren't we worth the attempt?
Mandala is a Sanskrit word meaning "circle" at its most basic level, but is imbued with much more meaning than that. This website explains it well. The sand mandala, which takes days to complete, is used to explore the impermanance of life, an integral concept of Buddhism. Coupled with specific chants and rituals, the creation of the mandala is a spiritual practice that goes way beyond the beauty of the creation we see before us. The particular mandala we saw created was called a mandala of compassion, another important concept in Buddhism. Compassion is not seen as just feeling sorry for someone who is sad or in pain, but rather, as wanting happiness for all people, not just those in our inner circle. This website can help you learn more (scroll down to the bottom.)
At any rate, we arrived and learned a bit about what mandalas are, and we discussed mandalas in nature (tree rings, the moon, snowflakes) and different cultures. We then went upstairs to where the monks were starting the mandala. A hush came over the children as we ascended the top step and heard the deep guttural chanting of the monks. One monk was hunched over scraping the sand from what are called "chak-pur" metal tools to apply the sand to the mandala. The area was cordoned off with prayer flags, so the children were able to get quite close without invading the sacred space.
The children were fascinated and very respectful. I, of course, had visions of G. tripping over a sandal and falling headlong over the flags into the center of the mandala, sand flying everywhere. But my fears were not realized as he stood mesmerized for about 5 minutes, at which point he was completely bored. I could have stood there all day and watched. It is quite amazing, really. We learned that there is a "mandala master" who oversees the placement of the sand and a "chanting master" who leads the monks in chanting.
Six days later, we went back to see the completion of the mandala and the ceremony that would take place at the end. Imagine, 6 days of painstaking attention to detail, knowing that the end result would be to sweep your creation away and throw the sand in the river. Can we really wrap our American consumerist mentalities around it?
The finished mandala. This picture doesn't do it justice. The colors are much deeper and richer, and they are applied in layers, giving it a raised appearance.
From the balcony.
After a short time of contemplating the mandala, the monks came in and sat and explained the mandala through an interpreter. They then donned their hats and began to chant and circle the mandala.
Then they began to dismantle it, one of the monks drawing four lines with his finger from the center to the outside edge of the mandala. They then began to sweep all of the sand into the center of the table, and just like that, it was gone.
After offering everyone a small packet of sand, the rest was gathered into a small jar and we all followed the monks, chanting and waving incense out of the museum and to the river. We passed quite a few surprised folks in the street and at the farmer's market!
I can't resist posting this picture.
After a few chants and prayers, the sand was poured into the river and the monks turned to leave and go back to India, having left us with an experience we will never forget and will always be grateful for.
If you are interested in learning more about Buddhism, check out this website. If you are interested in getting involved to help Tibet, check out www.freetibet.org.
The destruction of monasteries, the resettlement of Chinese into Tibet, the teaching of Chinese language and culture to Tibetan children at the expense of their own, all of these are deliberate and systematic attempts to obliterate Tibetan culture. Through the oppression of Tibetan religion/culture, the Chinese hope to eradicate Tibet and make it China. Can we afford to let that happen? Can we truly embody compassion and ensure that we do, what we consume, where we spend our money is not hurting anyone else? Can we come a bit closer to understanding that nothing is permanant, that everything ends, that selfless love is achievable? Aren't we worth the attempt?
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Green Living
I know it's just a buzzword but really, who among us hasn't felt the need to "go green." We all do what we can I suppose, but many of us are somewhat limited as to what is feasible for us. I'm not going to be living in a yurt off the grid anytime soon, and I don't have the money to convert my car over to biodeisel, but I do what I can. We live in a small house, drive somewhat fuel efficient cars, buy locally grown/made products and garden organically. But the one thing I really love is our compost pile. Yes, I love compost. There is nothing better than knowing that all of our garbage is not going to a landfill, it is going back to the earth.
In fact, G. often uses it as an excuse not to finish his peanut butter sandwich. He throws it in the compost bucket saying, "It's okay, Mom, I'm helping the earth." Now, that's not quite what I had in mind, but still...
Here is a not so good picture of our compost pile(s). We use a two pile method - we throw our greens and browns onto one pile while the other one sits and decomposes. I turn them every few weeks, and when the pile that is not active looks fairly ready, I sift it and take out the big things (like corn cobs) and throw them onto the active pile.
Pretty soon I have a lovely pile of compost to add to the garden. I don't pay too much attention to the amount of greens vs. browns, but if it seems a bit smelly I add more browns or some dirt to help it along.
Knowing that our garbage adds to the beauty of our garden is very satisfying.
This website seems to have some good information about how to start and maintain a compost pile.
There are many more things I am also trying to change. Juice boxes and individually packaged snacks are big no-no's for me now. I try to make as many snacks for the kids as I can because even if I buy the "organic" snacks, the trash still ends up in a landfill. And I am one of the freaks who brings their cloth bags to the grocery store - I even bring them to Target and Ocean State Job Lot.
So if you haven't tried composting, give it a try - it's a lot easier than you think!
In fact, G. often uses it as an excuse not to finish his peanut butter sandwich. He throws it in the compost bucket saying, "It's okay, Mom, I'm helping the earth." Now, that's not quite what I had in mind, but still...
Here is a not so good picture of our compost pile(s). We use a two pile method - we throw our greens and browns onto one pile while the other one sits and decomposes. I turn them every few weeks, and when the pile that is not active looks fairly ready, I sift it and take out the big things (like corn cobs) and throw them onto the active pile.
Pretty soon I have a lovely pile of compost to add to the garden. I don't pay too much attention to the amount of greens vs. browns, but if it seems a bit smelly I add more browns or some dirt to help it along.
Knowing that our garbage adds to the beauty of our garden is very satisfying.
This website seems to have some good information about how to start and maintain a compost pile.
There are many more things I am also trying to change. Juice boxes and individually packaged snacks are big no-no's for me now. I try to make as many snacks for the kids as I can because even if I buy the "organic" snacks, the trash still ends up in a landfill. And I am one of the freaks who brings their cloth bags to the grocery store - I even bring them to Target and Ocean State Job Lot.
So if you haven't tried composting, give it a try - it's a lot easier than you think!
Monday, September 8, 2008
Blueberry Picking
While our thoughts may have turned to applepicking, we still managed to pick bucketfuls of huge, ripe blueberries last week. If you are ever in the Monadnock area, you have to go to Monadnock Berries, an unbelievably gorgeous location for huge sweet berries. My friend had told me about this place and I figured it was just like any other place, but I was proven wrong (not an unusual occurrence....) At any rate, we journeyed up to Troy, NH, a mere 25 minutes from here, and enjoyed a gorgeous morning of picking. We brought lunches and ate at the picnic tables while the kids enjoyed playing in the sandboxes.
The view of Mt. Monadnock
Starting out...
G. finds something to climb on...
Showing off the bounty...
So I have pounds and pounds of luscious blueberries in my freezer, and we have been enjoying blueberry everything. One of our favorites has been lemon-blueberry bread. I substitute whole-wheat pastry flour for the white flour and throw in a bit of ground flaxseed, just to make myself feel better about the pound of butter and sugar in it, but I made four mini-loaves last night and they are almost gone!So now we will move onto apples and pumpkins, but we are sure to return next year for more blueberries!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Monday, September 1, 2008
Happy Birthday, Carmella!
It's official! C. has turned 7 years old. When she was four, she used to think that she could do anything if only she were seven. "When I'm seven, I'll be able to chew gum. When I'm seven, I'll be able to watch Scooby-Doo." And she definitely can! Not only does she chew gum (occasionally), but she reads, rides her bike, makes her breakfast and looks at the world through new eyes.
So to celebrate on her special day, we met her aunt and cousins at a famous American eatery, TGIFriday's. The one thing I knew she wanted was to go to a restaurant and have them sing "Happy Birthday" to her and bring her a fancy dessert. So of course I accomodated that desire and found myself smack dab in the middle of the suburban American version of "eating out."
Now lest I come across like a snob, let me admit right now that I am a snob. We rarely eat out, and on those rare occasions we try for some ethnic cuisine or upscale pizzeria. But here we find ourselves on a Friday night, fighting for position at the hostess table, adding our names to the list of hungry families needing their mass-produced meals. It was somewhat frightening really, but that was nothing compared to the food.
Applebees, Chili's, Outback Steakhouse, Uno's, Olive Garden - did it really matter where we ate? Who was handling our food? Where did it come from? E.coli was a definite possibility. The food arrives, dripping in fat and grease and overly salty sauces. I look around and the place is packed - every single table filled with parents and children and (being the judgemental jerk that I am) I can't help but think that there are a lot of people who eat here a lot. And then I think - it's no wonder the palate of America is ruined. The fat and salt has completely wiped out my taste buds - how do people eat in these places more than once in a lifetime? It's so grotesque.
But it was worth it! To see C.'s face as the waiters clapped and sang for her on her special day made me so happy. What a sweet girl - to be so young and innocent that a little thing like going to a restaurant can make you so happy. I take back everything I said. I love American chain restaurant food! I love it! I love it!
The most beautiful girl in the world with her ice cream sundae.
Can't forget about the cherry!
Forgive me my snobbery, but I can't help it. It took two days of nothing but berries and raw veggies to feel human again. And I can't help but feel queasy that we might have to do it again next year. Do you think C. would be happy with a mango lassi from an Indian restaurant?
So to celebrate on her special day, we met her aunt and cousins at a famous American eatery, TGIFriday's. The one thing I knew she wanted was to go to a restaurant and have them sing "Happy Birthday" to her and bring her a fancy dessert. So of course I accomodated that desire and found myself smack dab in the middle of the suburban American version of "eating out."
Now lest I come across like a snob, let me admit right now that I am a snob. We rarely eat out, and on those rare occasions we try for some ethnic cuisine or upscale pizzeria. But here we find ourselves on a Friday night, fighting for position at the hostess table, adding our names to the list of hungry families needing their mass-produced meals. It was somewhat frightening really, but that was nothing compared to the food.
Applebees, Chili's, Outback Steakhouse, Uno's, Olive Garden - did it really matter where we ate? Who was handling our food? Where did it come from? E.coli was a definite possibility. The food arrives, dripping in fat and grease and overly salty sauces. I look around and the place is packed - every single table filled with parents and children and (being the judgemental jerk that I am) I can't help but think that there are a lot of people who eat here a lot. And then I think - it's no wonder the palate of America is ruined. The fat and salt has completely wiped out my taste buds - how do people eat in these places more than once in a lifetime? It's so grotesque.
But it was worth it! To see C.'s face as the waiters clapped and sang for her on her special day made me so happy. What a sweet girl - to be so young and innocent that a little thing like going to a restaurant can make you so happy. I take back everything I said. I love American chain restaurant food! I love it! I love it!
The most beautiful girl in the world with her ice cream sundae.
Can't forget about the cherry!
Forgive me my snobbery, but I can't help it. It took two days of nothing but berries and raw veggies to feel human again. And I can't help but feel queasy that we might have to do it again next year. Do you think C. would be happy with a mango lassi from an Indian restaurant?
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