Worst Easter Ever

A Day in the Life

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There is a viral one-two punch going around right now and it’s pretty horrific. After a long day of sanitizing and keeping the remnant children and teachers outside all Friday, we came home and started sinking into our own mini-apocalypse. Rory started out with some serious adventure diapers, and over the night I lost my battle against a sinus catastrophe. Kevin held it together, cleaned up bodily fluids, and ran out for illness supplies all weekend while we trailed Rory with wipes and Clorox. Edie occupied herself with a preschool workbook, just asking for help with reading directions, for hours at a time.

We rescheduled Easter. Next week hopefully we can hit Fort Warden with the troupe after all. During a window of higher energy, we popped over to Snake Lake and breathed half a mile of woods air, sliming as we went. Rory briefly fell asleep in my arms, rolled together in a picnic blanket.

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As evening settled in, both kids returned their dinners to sender. For the third night in a row, we played musical beds(and couches).

These Huckleberries are so tough. We are taking our remedies, drinking smoothies, and reading stories for the third day in a row. My head has begun to clear and a cough stirred up instead. We hope to get back to school on Tuesday, but in the mean time we’ll settle in for another day of snuggles and nasty laundry.

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Self Portrait, Grown up Lady

Art Book, How

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I’m a judge. I’m a princess judge and I have a never stop glowing rose in my hair and I have curly hair, very curly hair, and my best fruit hat. I’m carrying a grocery bag and it has two loafs of bread and two cherry pies and two cakes and I have blueberries and strawberries in my basket and candy and watermelon and guess what I have? Everything in the whole wide world that you could possibly eat. It’s a huge bag.
-Edie, 4

Edie has been drawing a lot of picture sets lately, four princesses in a row, or five similar garden scenes. As four year olds usually do, she developed a quirky shorthand for human figures. One evening this week she showed me her work and I asked if I could have a turn. She watched intently as I drew. I made a big point of feeling and noticing the elements of my face, adding them carefully to my amateurish drawing, from the top and working down.

When I handed the pen back to her, she paused. She felt her own face. She counted out eight curls, drew the face outline, and added two big eyes. Trying my best not to giggle at the big spider, I transcribed most of what she said. She continued to feel her own face and add details, many of which she had never depicted before. For the first time, she illustrated teeth, the shape of lips, ears, eyelashes, and fingers.

I don’t know what is a princess judge or why she needs a fruit hat.

Huckleberries don’t take federal tests.

A Day in the Life, Why
Although I was home-schooled for a bulk of my k-12 education, I took the full battery of Washington State standardized tests and I pretty much crushed them because my personality and outside experiences were a good match for test taking. I got a sense of personal satisfaction and identity from being in the top 90-95% just about every time.
 
I wish I could take every test back. For several years now, I have been increasingly convinced that standardized testing is unwise and unhealthy, even for those children who do the best at it. I know I spent at least 90 total hours on testing and test prep, and I wish I had just taken another 5 college credits, or written another awkward juvenile fantasy novel, or read fifteen more classics, or basically anything else that I could have done with 90 hours. It is absurd to me that so many collective hours are blown on standardized testing by children, who never get anything back but a false personal ranking.
 
And now for a truly disturbing development:

My life is like ooooo

A Day in the Life

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We are super awesome. In fact, Edie and her friends are actual super heroes like 40% of the time. Edie loves working with her friends, doing art and big body play, and being one of the big kids. I overhear her talk and plans here and there, which is fun to catch. Yesterday she initiated a fantastic family hug with her best pals and told them all how great it is to be a team together. She didn’t know I was there on the other side of the curtain.

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Rory is comfortably settled and learning so much. I love how many sensory and art opportunities he’s getting. Fourteen toddlers sounds like a terrible clean up to commit to, but it’s a actually a lot more efficient than doing then all one at a time… He’s also really communicating much more; he’s added several words both spoken and sign in the last week or so. He calls for Dada, asks for more or eat in sign, and sends an uh-oh after the toys her throws in the bath tub… Of course his eyebrows get all his other points across.

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I am really happy. My work is exhausting but I’m doing the kinds of provocation and documentation that I’ve always loved, and I’m playing gobs of pretends. I almost never cook or bake, which I partly miss and partly don’t miss at all. I feel really good at my job and in control of my life; my mental and physical health are at the best they have been since Edie was two. We’re celebrating lots of little things and our weekends are almost long enough (but not quite).