Ordinary Time

The family pet tally is now down by 7 frogs. But, before you break out the tissues, let me assure you that they are well and happy. At least they were well and happy at 8:15 this morning. That was when M. released them back into the pond where she had scooped them up as tadpoles and brought them home. This is the second time we've had the opportunity to watch the transformation process and it remains miraculous. Bullfrog tadpoles are quite large, but by the time they metamorphose into frogs they are pretty little...so 7 of them can fit into a 10 gallon tank. But they grow and the bullfrogs were running out of room. There was also the whole issue of feeding them. They enjoy live food. M. started out feeding them crickets, but that was getting expensive and causing her to run to the pet store every few days because crickets don't live all that long even if they haven't been fed to a frog. So she turned to meal worms. This explains why 1000 mealworms were delivered

that machine used by the Cat in the Hat when he cleans up the house at the end of the book. The beginning of summer is so wonderful. The schoolbooks are put away and huge amounts of free time stretch out before us. There is nowhere anyone has to be except for frequent trips to the beach. But I find it all becomes too much by the end of August. The free time that seemed so glorious in June is starting to feel a touch burdensome. Here in late August, the main occupation of Thing One and Thing Two, oops, I mean TM and D, seems to be creating messes. This is not to say that no messes were made in June, it's just that their scope has broadened. Neither want to actually play with something so much as just remove it from its container. To keep any sort of order I find myself following along behind them reminding them to put away what they got out. If I want to go and do other things, such as freeze the 25 pounds of blueberries we picked last weekend, I am greeted with chaos of unbelievabl

This is a question I've been asked a lot recently. It's a question that always leaves me baffled as to how to respond. The snarky response which my evil twin would love to give someday is, "Well, it's because I'm a superior mother and my children must be more pleasant to be around than yours." Just asking the question does in some way imply this answer. There must be something intrinsically better about me to be able to raise and homeschool 6 children and still wear clothing that matches and is clean. But I can never use that response because it's just too rude and, well, it's not true. I lose my patience, forget things even though they're written on the calendar, and more often than I like to admit, children (or I) run out of clean underwear. My children, in my humble opinion, are bright, but no one has learned to read excessively early or begged to begin learning calculus. And, as far as behavior goes, they are a pretty average bunch. There are g