Admittedly, I am NOT a “stepford” homeschooling mom. We try to get the most out of every lesson, but I do not have one of those geeky “stepford” students. It’s a common misconception that children who have school at home are always happy to jump into lessons simply because they are at home and can do the lesson in their pajamas if they want. Truth is, even homeschooled kids get sick of school. They get complacent, whiny and bitchy. I don’t care how much fun you make a lesson or how much one-on-one attention they get, at some point a kid is just going to want you to leave them alone and let them play some video games or watch television without it becoming a freaking learning experience.

I have no doubt that Maggie gets sick of the sound of my voice. More than once at the dinner table I have been asked, “Mom can we NOT do school right now?!?!?!?” It’s very hard to turn the “teacher” button off and very close to impossible to separate the mom hat from the teacher hat.

Maggie loves history, science and Spanish. But, even those get old. She’d rather watch TV, play video games or go outside and harass her pets. Believe me, there are days when it would be easier to catch gnats with baseball netting than it is to get Maggie to settle in and get to work. Instead of fighting, begging, bribing and cajoling I created passports.

She currently has 2 passports. One is for video games and the other for the television. Each day she has to earn her passports in order to play or watch tv. In addition, she can’t use her passports until her lessons are finished or she is on a break. I printed out the title of the passport and how it is earned. I used clear packing tape to “laminate” it on to a smaller manila envelope and I decorated it with fun stickers that coordinate with the purpose of the passport.

Everyone in the household understands what the purpose is and Maggie is often asked, “Do you have your passport for that?” and she proudly presents it upon request to prove that she earned her fun time. It has worked brilliantly for months now.

Home schooling is really a constant learning curve for both the student and “teacher” – I don’t have a set system that I have to force 30+ kids into, instead I have to be creative and mold the system around one student. When it’s molded correctly the results are obvious and almost immediate. Fortunately, I have the advantage of really knowing my student so I know what is going to provide strong incentive and what isn’t.

To this day my husband brags about the load he took home from an equipment auction. Air compressor, Craftsman roll away tool chest, etc. All for a great price. My husband is an absolute freak about getting the best deal on pretty much anything and everything. Craigslist, pawn shop, auction, you name it… he’s shopped there. It’s never junk and it’s always a great deal.

Unfortunately, that includes my engagement ring. Seriously. Really pretty, solitaire cut diamond ring… pawn shop.

He managed to get the best deal on all of our motorcycle riding gear in a similar fashion… Craigs List. It wouldn’t be so bad, I guess, if he would keep quiet about it. But, the better the deal the more he has to brag about it.

Even when he doesn’t have anything to be shopping for he’ll peruse Craigs List with a lonely look on his face, like he wishes he had something he needed to buy. Sometimes, I think it’s more about the thrill of the chase than the acquisition.

Maggie is a multi-tasking mad genius when she wants to be. I noticed this one night when I was in the front yard and saw the glow coming from her bedroom window. Upon further investigation I found her with earbuds firmly in place and connected to an ipod, a lap top on her lap as she searched for help on a video game she attempted to master, the soft glow of said game beaming from the television and all of this bathed in the neon light of a lava lamp perched on her dresser. Her room looked like it was utilizing all the juice a Mongolia power plant could muster and then some.

My husband swears she is the youngest teenager on the planet. 8 going on 16, I guess. She wants a motorcycle and a helmet “with flames on it.” Her favorite songs are “Some Beach” by Blake Shelton followed shortly by “Red Solo Cup” by Toby Keith.

She’s technologically savvy as long as it benefits her. She is also capable of playing ridiculously dumb when it suits her. She can get this really befuddled look on her face followed by a widening and blinking of those big, blue eyes and for a brief moment almost convince me that she is borderline “special.” Then I recall the look of her sprawled on her bed multi-tasking like the world’s smallest hacker and she realizes she hasn’t fooled me as much as she thinks she has.

She’s been known to pretend she doesn’t know where the silverware drawer is and later I’ll find her unloading the dishwasher in hopes of scoring a favor from Katie. The television remote is completely lost but it’s clear she had it at some point because the tv keeps automatically tuning to every single one of her favorite shows.

She can manage 3 browser windows with multiple tabs at one time but seems to be completely lost when it’s time to switch over to the software she uses to study her spelling words.

I have given up arguing and explaining. I now issue orders and stand there until she sees resistance is futile. Most of the time it works.

Now, if I could just get her to grasp that she doesn’t need to DVR every episode of Dogs 101, SpongeBob SquarePants, and 9 or 10 other shows on the Disney Channel.

Conversations between Katie and I are fast paced and a lot like muscle building supplements for your sense of humor. Not meant to offend actual muscle building supplements or the takers thereof and if you are interested in that sort of thing than by all means… umm…

Moving on.

This song:

Is Katie’s song. It applies to 99.9% of her relationships. In fact, I suspect when it comes time to end a relationship she just programs this song as the unfortunate fellow’s ringback tone. The following week they have lunch and discuss whatever they discuss as if nothing ever happened.

I wish I were joking. Well, not really because it beats the hell out of having one of those teenagers with a new romantic drama weekly.

Me: No, I really do appreciate your revolving door policy.

Her: Uh… thanks?

Me: Just makes things easier. I don’t get attached to anyone. And, you get good use out of your song.

Her: I should dedicate that to someone as a joke.

Me: No, don’t do that… then you’ll be the little girl who cried, “break up.” You don’t want to be that.

Katie fidgeting with Valentine’s Maggie received in the mail. She manages to knock a frog sticker loose.

Katie: Oh… my. Where did this come from?

Me: Good question. Way to go.

Katie: Should I just stick it somewhere?

Me: Yes… you should just… stick it.

Her: Oh… yes… are you proud of yourself there? One point for the mom, zero points for the teenager? Boost your self-esteem a little there?

Me: Have you seen me today? It’s going to take more than you and a loose frog sticker to fix this.

Katie had a late start today. Once or twice a month school doesn’t start until after 9am. On those days the girls and I run through Starbucks on the way to drop Katie off at school. The girls and I have the Starbucks routine down to a science. We actually have 2 sets of orders, the order I am capable of reciting at the drive-thru speaker and the order Mike is capable of reading off a list at the drive-thru speaker.

We always manage to maintain a conversation through the drive-thru and in between the drive-up window opening and closing. This morning Katie was discussing the music playing on the radio and I assured her it wasn’t nearly as bad as waking up to “The Bob and Tom Show” with the song “It’s A Great Day…” (see below)

Funny song, but at 6:30am it made me want to beat Mike to death with the television remote. As I explained it to Katie, I prefer to wake up to the Today Show. The tv is set to switch on 2 minutes before the Today Show starts because the initial tones they play as the start to the show wakes me up, then I can ease into my morning. There is just something soothing about Ann Curry and Matt Lauer telling you about all the awful things that happened while you were sleeping.

If you wake up to “The Bob and Tom Show” the rest of the day, whether you like it or not (not, in my book) is just a giant fart joke.

I love this idea. A wine cork board, the possibilities are really almost endless in the design or pattern you could use to create this. Combine it with some super cute pins from Etsy and you’d be good to go.

I have a large cork board in the upstairs hall for the kids and each kid has their own dry erase board as well. Downstairs I have a dry erase calendar with a cork board on the bottom and it sits just above my mail organizer. Everyone is constantly using all of these boards whether it’s to leave funny notes, birthday wishes, countdowns to important dates (like my Blake Shelton countdown up there? Kate was stoked, she’ll probably put one up on her site!) or general reminders.

I’ve also discovered (not sure what took me so long) that dry erase markers work great on mirrors! One night before Christmas while the kids were asleep I decorated the big mirror in their bathroom with a funny Christmas mural and lyrics from Christmas songs.

It saves on post-it notes and it’s easy to write a quick reminder too. “Don’t forget this…” “Wipe down the counter!” Throw in a funny face and most of the time the kids don’t even mind being reminded to do stuff they don’t like doing anyway.

My kids have grown up around a wide variety of music. Everything from old standards to jazz and big band to rockabilly, country and Bob Marley. I’m a die-hard Harry Connick Jr. fan and I love Frank Sinatra. My husband is an old school metal head and it’s no secret that the whole family loves Queen and Zeppelin. But, I was born and raised in Bako and my grandparents listened to Willie Nelson, my grandpa was a big Vince Gill fan so I have an affinity for country music. I think unless you are hell-bent on resisting it, that country kind of gets into your blood around here, just a bit.

Over the last year my Kate has gotten into country music and not only is she diggin’ current cutie pies like Blake Shelton (especially Blake, she’s been on a die-hard crusade to get Blake’s attention on Twitter for months), Keith Urban, Billy Currington and Brad Paisley, but she’s even pulled out a few of her mama’s favorites too. Nothing cooler than seeing your daughter singing along to Lorrie Morgan or kicking back listening to David Lee Murphy. Even better is to find out that songs she loves by current performers were written by guys I loved back then. And, she loves George Strait… the really old stuff. She’s also a big fan of Willie Nelson and I think her great grandpa would be pretty proud of that.

We spent most of the summer with the stereo blaring over our home made Bocce Ball court the playlist hopping from Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard, stuff my grandpa loved to Jason Aldean, Zac Brown Band, Kenny Chesney and tons of Blake Shelton.

I wasn’t too surprised when Katie begged for tickets to see Blake in concert this March at our local concert venue, Rabobank Arena. Santa bought Katie and mom tickets and for Katie, a membership in the fan club… that’s right, my girl is an official BS’er.

In case you are interested, these songs are topping our play list currently:

Honeybee

People Are Crazy

Take a Back Road

Chicken Fried

Out Last Night

Dirt Road Anthem

That Ain’t My Truck

Party Crowd

Alternate post title: He Did It To Me Again.

The butterfly bush (or as my husband refers to it… “that butterfly monster”) turned out to be the fastest growing, most furiously blooming plant I have ever encountered. It smells wonderful, attracts butterflies by the hundreds through the spring/summer but has to be trimmed back several times a year. Emphasis on “several times a year.”

We’ve had an unusually warm January with some beautiful sunny days and since we had a new lilac tree to plant we spent last Saturday in the yard.

We cleaned up anything dead-ish, dug up an old rosemary plant that had died, cleaned out weeds that were trying to poke up and trimmed some trees and bushes. Then my husband said, “Oh, I trimmed up the butterfly bush…” I don’t recall anything he said after that because I took one look at my butterfly bush and made this face:

My butterfly bush should look like this (not now, it’s winter, but when it’s not winter it should):

Remember the last time he did this to me?

“YOU’RE TRYING TO KILL HER!!!!!!” I might have said a little too loudly, I think I could hear the neighbor’s curiosity pique from two, possibly more, yards away.

“I am not trying to kill it.” He said in a that stop-being-so-dramatic tone. “Your butterfly bush was trying to eat my redwoods… again.”

Admittedly, the first time those redwoods were still a little on the scrawny side and I could see why Mike was being overly ridiculous, dramatic and a complete sissy la la concerned about my beautiful butterfly bush appearing to attempt to dwarf his beloved redwoods.

This time? Those redwoods are HUGE. They are easily as tall as a two-story house and my precious butterfly bush?

NOT SO MUCH.

I stopped talking to him. I might have muttered something about doing a little pruning of my own on his precious sago palm which looks like this:

Compared to my butterfly bush, which for reference, looks LIKE THIS:

A little while later my husband said, “I put fertilizer on all the plants. I fertilized the butterfly bush too, I just wanted to make sure you know that I am NOT trying to kill your plant.”

I can’t say the same for the plant, Mike. I suggest you start sleeping with one eye open.

I turned 36 last week. Seriously, 36… and I’m just not vain enough to lie about my age. Mostly because I’m not noticing any new wrinkles or crow’s feet and I’m okay that the reason for this is simply because my face is just pudgy enough to fill them out.

Gray hairs… nope. None of those, thankfully. Although, who could tell, considering my stylist talked me into a platinum blonde streak (just one, bold and up front) and a few, ahem, teal peek-a-boo chunks hidden underneath here and there.

I’m happy, it’s cheaper than a sports car, boob lift, younger boyfriend and far more exciting than a rest home. ( Elder Care Portland )

I’m thinner this year than I have been in probably oh… 4 years at least. In fact, all my jeans are my skinny jeans even if skinny is in the eye of the beholder.

What did I do for this momentous occasion?

Earlier this month my husband gifted me with an early present, a Kindle Fire. One of my dearest friends, Chickie, sent me a box full of the most delicious smelling bath bombs on the planet just barely outdoing the shotglass/necklace and dancing chicken card from last year!

On my birthday my husband made me dinner and I was presented with a gift that almost got me a little teary. Non-plant people probably won’t get this… but through the years I’ve always had “dream plants” my husband always smiles and usually goes along with whatever I want to grow at the time. I’ve had beautiful hydrangeas, roses, butterfly bushes and crepe myrtles all gifts for my birthday, Mother’s Day or Easter.

But the Holy Grail, for me anyway, has always been a lilac tree. Holy Grail, indeed, I even found an old post mentioning my desire for a lilac tree:

My great grandmother used to say that the best cure for a headache was putting your hands in the dirt. She was absolutely right. What I would give to have the lilac tree that my grandmother transplanted to her backyard from my great grandmother’s yard!

My grandmother had a lilac tree in the backyard and it was easily one of my favorites of her plants. I knew she had grown it as a cutting from her mother and I believe it was from an original tree in Oklahoma. I had never really seen them around here or available at nurseries and so had given up on ever having one of my own.

Until a few weekends ago when a sunny day sent me perusing the garden section at Lowe’s. They had a huge selection of bare root lilacs. I sort of looked like Agnes in that scene from Despicable Me with the unicorn, there was all sorts of gasping and ooo’ing and ahh’ing and “I MUST HAVE THIS!!!!!!”

Mike grumbled, began asking questions like, where was I going to plant it? How big would it get? Was it going to be like that butterfly bush that has to be fought back from eating his redwoods 200 times a year?

My husband deserves a Golden Globe or Oscar or something because I barely spoke to him for the rest of the day for “dashing my dreams” and his follow up to the act at Lowe’s was to pretend he didn’t notice how annoyed I was with him.

Fast forward to my birthday when I was presented with what Maggie described as “an AMAZING CARD!!!!” which was a giant pop-up card with all sorts of cute, cartoon animals on it. I was later told it took her almost 45 minutes to pick out my birthday card (she took her assignment VERY seriously) and she probably molested every card with a puppy, kitty or other cute animal on it in the stands before selecting this card for it’s unique “pop up” feature.

After much time spent ooo’ing and aaah’ing (I do a ridiculous amount of this, no?) my TRULY AMAZING CARD (just in case Maggie reads this) I was presented with a lilac tree. Not just any lilac, but one my husband and daughter spent about as much time as Maggie with the birthday card, selecting just for me.

I’m really proud of it, but I’m going to spare you a full length picture because it’s only about 18″ tall and is essentially some sticks on a very short, skinny trunk. BUT… check out this beauty of a bud!!!!

I might have some LEAVES this year!!!!!!!

I used to spend hours happily plopped next to my grandmother while she sewed. She taught me to sew with needle and thread and always gave instructions on how to use the sewing machine. I never really got to use the sewing machine because I was too little, but I did get a decent idea of how it all worked.

The truth is, while my grandmother made her own patterns and could whip up just about anything in an afternoon, I’m just not a huge fan of sewing. My sewing is kept to mending jeans, stuffed animals and replacing lost buttons. Although there are times when I see machine embroidery designs that I really wish I were more into it.

Now, knitting, that’s another thing altogether. I love knitting. I’m not super great at it, but I can whip out a decent baby cap. Check it out:

Jennifer, an incredibly talented photographer and owner of Naturally Beautiful Photography requested that hat for a photo shoot and I have to say… WOW. Is that a little cutie or what?