My Daughter the High Schooler

Oh my poor little neglected blog, it's been so long since I've been here.

Life has been crazy lately. It's funny, because people always ask homeschoolers how they do it, how do they have enough time, not go crazy, etc., etc. I'm now wondering how people survive with their kids IN school!

My eldest daughter (Carley) started high school August 24th. We haven't done the school thing since she was in 2nd grade. I forgot how tiring it is. Getting up, making lunches, getting to school on time, getting picked up and to other activities, doing homework, getting to bed, starting all over again the next day. Yuck, I hate it. But she seems to be liking it, at least that what she's telling us right now. She doesn't like the kids, but she really likes the classes. At least most of them. Even gym class. It's only been a few weeks, so the novelty hasn't really worn off yet, but time will tell I suppose. She knows she can quit whenever she wants, I'd really rather have her at home. I miss her. And so does her sister, but she'd never admit it.

I know this is a good experience for her, she needs to be out in the world a bit more. But the false reality of a high school just sends shivers up my spine. It's not that I hated high school. I liked some of my classes, I loved seeing my friends, but I hated being told what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. By senior year I hated being there so much I went on the work release program. I was done with school by 11:00 am and I was able to leave and go to work. Like a real person. Not a subject forced to remain in servitude to the establishment until they ok'd my release.

But I know it's not about me now, it's about her, and what she wants. Maybe because she hasn't been forced to be in schools all these years she has a greater appreciation for education, and she's willing to put up with the nonsense to get what she wants out of the experience. I hope she continues to enjoy it and I hope she can learn in spite of the nonsense that is the institution. I just hope I finally adjust to the changes in my life and routine. Right now it's giving me a headache ; )

Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing worth knowing can be taught.
~Oscar Wilde~
"The Critic as Artist," 1890

My Daughter Made a YouTube Video

And being the proud mom that I am, I have to share it. I had no idea, but Catherine worked on this most of the day. It's her first attempt at putting together a video. I think it's sweet. BTW, she is self-taught on this whole making a video thing, I have no idea how to do it. Unschooling at it's best!

Here's the story, which is good to know before watching the video:

Story:
Cliff is singing about his daughter Jill, who is growing up and (Eventually) getting married to Skye. (No, Jill is not Cliffs daughter, this only exists in my Vids.)

That was in Catherine's words. The pictures are people from Harvest Moon, the video game. (I didn't know who they were either, but it's still cute : )

Momentous Occasions

Graduation is only a concept. In real life every day you graduate. Graduation is a process that goes on until the last day of your life. If you can grasp that, you'll make a difference.
~Arie Pencovici~

My oldest daughter recently "graduated" 8th grade. I put graduated in quotes because she didn't really graduate from anything. Our homeschool co-op holds a graduation ceremony at the end of the year for 8th grade and high school graduates. Carley was technically an 8th grader this year, so she technically graduated. Since we consider ourselves eclectic learners, or life learners or unschoolers or whatever you want to call us, we didn't really have anything to graduate from. She didn't finish a curriculum, we don't do curriculum. We don't consider learning to ever stop and start, we learn all the time. Try to go an entire day and not learn something. We all learn something everyday whether we acknowledge it or not. Can't watch the news or read a newspaper without learning something. So that's how we live and learn everyday.

So with that in mind, Carley participated in a graduation ceremony at our co-op. There was only one other girl graduating 8th grade, so it was short and sweet. It was part of other closing ceremony activities, but the graduation came last. After Carley was introduced, her parents (John and I), had the chance to say some things about her. I talked about her accomplishments, how we have always tried to support her in all of her endeavors, about how we unschooled and Carley was able to lead her own learning. I also mentioned how it seemed just like yesterday that she graduated from her Montessori Kindergarten. And yes, I almost cried. I also mentioned that she had decided to send herself to high school next year, and how much I will miss having her home. Her father talked about how she has tenacity and determination and usually follows through on things she sets her mind out to do. It was all quite lovely actually. I wasn't sure I wanted to participate at first, I am not one for ceremony for the sake of ceremony. Carley wasn't even sure she wanted to participate, but in the end I am glad we did. I think it will be a nice memory for her to have.

Here are some pictures for your perusal:

This is before we left the house:


Here is the table we set up with a short history of Carley's life (pictures and accomplishments):


Here she is on stage waiting for her turn to"'graduate" (a little blurry, youngest dd was in charge of the camera):

Here she is with her cake (we had a small reception afterwards):

And one with Sam, the other graduate (and a good friend):


All in all, a happy night and judging by the smiling faces, one that everyone will remember.

What we are is God's gift to us. What we become is our gift to God.
~Eleanor Powell~

What is Really Important?

My youngest daughter (Catherine) has been funny lately. It's like she suddenly realized how the world works and knows we tend not to live the "normal" way.

Last fall I taught a class at our homeschool co-op on painters and styles. One of the subjects was Jackson Pollock. I took the classes into the parking lot of the church where we meet and got them large pieces of paper and buckets of different colored paints and sticks and brushes and they went to town, a la Jackson Pollock. It was so much fun. I made a few paintings myself. It was such a free way of doing art. One didn't have to think about an end result, the art was in the doing.

Recently Catherine asked me if she could "Jackson Pollock" one of the walls in her room. I told her she'd need to clean it out a bit, so we could move all the furniture so she could have access to the one wall, and how we'd have to get some drop cloths to cover everything so she could splatter away. She laughed at my answer. She knows that not one of her friends would ever be allowed to do that in their rooms. She marveled that I didn't even bat an eye or give it a second thought. And why should I? It's her room. She wants to do art in her room. How cool is that? Currently she paints and draws on her walls, mostly by her bed. She has been using black, which I know will be a bit tough to cover, but when you walk into her room, you can see her personality all over the walls. I love that she knows she has the freedom to be herself in her room.

Another example: A few days ago Catherine was complaining about her hair. She wants to get it cut. We have been bartering haircuts with our neighbor whose dog we care for when she flies (she's a flight attendant). I haven't been able to set up an appt. for Catherine's hair, so she was complaining about it. And so she asked me if she could just cut it off. I told her she could, but she might not be happy with the results. She looked at me and laughed. She did not expect me to say she could cut her hair off. It's her hair and it's ONLY hair. Go ahead, cut it off. If it looks horrible, we'll just try to hurry that appt. along with the neighbor. She decided against cutting her own hair, but she genuinely appreciated that I didn't care if she did.

Why do some parents choose to control their children just for the sake of control? Who cares if kids paint their walls or cut their hair? I watch families a lot when I am out. I am always amazed at the battles I see going on between kids and parents. And so much of it is over the most trivial things. What shoes to buy, what jeans to wear, etc. I think it's just common sense to give kids respect, to listen to their opinions and feelings. I certainly wasn't raised that way myself, my parents would have killed me if I had drawn on my walls or cut my hair. I see a lot of sad kids in my day to day travels. Teens/tweens who are just beginning to have a sense of who they are away from their parents and yet they have no ability to control anything in their lives. They aren't allowed to voice an opinion or able to make the smallest or even the biggest of decisions. My eldest daughter has made the decision to go to high school next year. Some fellow homeschoolers are frowning on me for "allowing" her to make that decision. I'm not the one going to school, who else should be allowed to make that decision. She will be 14 1/2 when she enters high school. Isn't that old enough to decide for oneself?

What is the magic age of allowing children some autonomy over their lives? How about from birth? Listening to a babies cries and responding accordingly is letting them make decisions. I was never that parent that let a baby cry. They cried for a reason and I listened. As toddlers they got to to pick their own clothes and choose what foods to eat. As my kids got older they got to decide (age appropriately) what they needed. We did the family bed with our girls. At 5 years of age, Carley decided she wanted her own room. At 8 Catherine still shared a room with us (she had her own bed by then). People found it odd that I shared a room with my 8 year old. I wasn't about to force her to leave, she had the right to choose what she was comfortable with. At 10 she moved into her own room and loves it. I've never had night issues with my kids, nor sleep issues, because I've allowed them to make choices for themselves.

Too many people have stuck in their minds the way they thing things "should" be. Who said things need to be a certain way? I say make up your own rules. Live a life of joy and love instead of rules and boundaries. Be free.

I wish that every human life might be pure transparent freedom.
~Simone de Beauvoir~

My Youngest Turns 12

Today is my youngest daughters birthday (Catherine). She was born at almost 11pm, so I am trying to time this post in relation to her actual birth. Her tale is not as dramatic as my other daughters. Catherine only took one day to make her appearance into the world.

Funnily enough, I can't seem to remember the particulars as much as I can with my older daughter. Maybe already having a toddler when I was due with my second made my mind overwhelmed. I do remember first going to my doctors office around noon. She determined I was in labor and at about 3 cm and sent me to the hospital. We arrived there around 2:00pm. My sister left work and met us there to take Carley to her house. It was sad watching Carley go, she had never left us before.

Just as I was getting settled into my hospital room, my water broke. That was a very weird experience. I had already had an epidural when my doctor broke my water with Carley, so being "un-numb" and having it spontaneously happen was weird. And slightly alarming. But we hoped it was a good sign that things would move quickly along. Unfortunately that was not going to be the case. Since I had an epidural with Carley, I wanted one with Catherine.

Oh and here is a little aside: I had an amnio at 20 weeks so I knew I was having a girl and we had already named her Catherine. No big surprises for me at the birth. I like to plan ahead.

Anyway, I wanted an epidural after my water broke. So they got the anesthesiologist. He came in and looked at my back. "Have you had back surgery" he asked? "Yes, I had a spinal fusion", I replied. "Oh, well you can't have an epidural then". Witness Donna melt-down. Hello? My OB knew I had surgery on my back. She never mentioned I couldn't receive an epidural. I panicked. I didn't think I could do this delivery thing "au natural". But I had no choice.

My doctor needed to put an IV in me because I tested positive for Group Strep B. The nurses wanted to put an internal monitor on the baby, but that would've confined me to the bed, and since I wasn't getting an epidural, I wanted to be up. Thankfully my doctor didn't care what the nurses wanted, she let me be up. Which was interesting seeing as my water had broken. I had to carry a pad between my legs as I walked around the room so as not to leak.

So things progressed and at about 5:00pm I was checked. Still at 3cm. Uh oh. She wanted to give me pitocin. Without an epidural. I wasn't pleased with that, but since I wasn't progressing, she felt maybe I would just need it a short time to kick start things. So the pitocin was added to my IV. Yikes. Glad I didn't have to feel that with my first or may not have had a second. It really was extreme pain.

Between 5:00 and 7:00 (times are approximate), I progressed to 6cm, so my doctor said she would stop the pitocin and see how things went. Well, all things stopped again. What the heck is wrong with my body?

I think it was around 7 or 8 she started the pitocin again. I remember things in a dazed sort of way. I really went into the pain zone for a while. All I could concentrate on was contractions and pain. It's kind of like everything around me was a blur. I had a great doctor though. She didn't abandon me and leave the nurses in charge. She was there most of the time. She even ordered a pizza with my husband 1/2 way through the day. (Luckily I was in pain and not paying attention, otherwise I might have been miffed that my hubby and cute doctor were going off to share a pizza together).

I remember her checking me again around 10:30pm. I was at 8cm. Seeing how the progress had been the rest of the day, she figured maybe another hour or two before I would be at 10cm. About 5 mins after that, I remember feeling an uncontrollable urge to push. It was like something else had taken over my body. I told the doctor " THE BABY IS COMING!" She said she can't be coming, I'm only at 8cm. I said "NO SHE IS COMING RIGHT NOW!"

So she quick checked me and sure enough I was at 10 and the baby was right there. Nothing was ready. Everyone had been taking their time. All of a sudden it was a big commotion. The bed comes apart so I can get my feet up. Lights come out of the ceiling, someone runs off to get the isolette for the baby. And then I start to push. I didn't feel this kind of pain with Carley. I think I only had to push about 5 times to get Catherine out. But there was no time to numb me "down there" or to give me an episiotomy. So I tore. And it felt like someone had held hot coals to me "down there". Ripping flesh is not a pleasant experience. But then baby was out. And she was perfect. So Catherine Ann Clasen was born March 6, 1997 at 10:55 pm.

This picture is of me and my doctor with a little bundled up Catherine just after she was born.



Then I had to deliver the afterbirth, and boy did those contractions suck. I really must have had a lot of residual epidural effect with Carley. These pains were all very new to me. And then of course my doctor had to stitch up the tear. And by now it was close to midnight and I was hungry and tired and just wanted everyone away from my body. But one good thing about skipping the epidural was that I was able to get up and walk right away. It felt good to be up. And someone, somewhere in the hospital, found me a turkey sandwich at 12:30am because I was starving.

Below is a picture of my step-daughter Raina holding Catherine and Carley is kissing her head. This was the day after Catherine was born, we were still in the hospital.


And here is Catherine at about 2 years old



And here she is now


Isn't she lovely.........

Here She Is!

(This is part 3 in a story telling about the birth of my eldest, who turns 14 today.)

So after seeing the doctor Thursday, after she tortured me by "stripping my membranes" I went home and tried to rest. I woke up that night (really the next morning) about 4am. My contractions were definitely stronger and coming much closer together. I called my doctor. After leaving a message with the answering service, she called back in about 15 mins. That was a long 15 mins. Anyway, she decided I should come into the hospital.

Before I continue, thought I should show everyone how I looked the week before I gave birth:
Boy was I huge!


We got to the hospital about 5:30 am. My doctor wasn't there yet, but the nurse's in ER were expecting me. I was pre-checked in, so they just popped me in a wheel-chair and up we went to the maternity floor. By the time I got changed and almost settled, my doctor showed up. After a check she determined I was at 3 cm. Oh My God, I am only dilating a cm a day! She suggested I take some Demerol to take the edge off. I was willing to take anything at that point to take the edge off. The Demerol helped, but it also made me nauseous. I would rather have excruciating contractions than be nauseous. I hate being nauseous. It's my most dreaded sickness.

It's around 7am now. An hour later than when she first checked me. I am still at 3 cm. She decided she is going to start Pitocin and break my water, but "would I like an epidural first?". Damn right I want an epidural first. So Mr. anesthesiologist comes in, tells me to lie on my side, curl up my knees and DO NOT MOVE! It's kind of hard not to move when your body is being racked with pain, but the thought of paralysis also crossed my mind, so I managed not to move. It was almost immediate relief. I never loved anyone as much as that anesthesiologist.

So then Dr. Novas (my ob) went to work breaking my water. I didn't feel anything. They attached a monitor to my poor little baby's head and hooked me up to a Pitocin drip. And then I went to sleep. Ah blissful sleep. Something I didn't have much of for the past two days. My sister showed up sometime during my nap. I had wanted her there for the delivery. I figured as many people I could have on my side the better. So I had DH (who was then just dear boyfriend) and my sister present for the delivery. Oh yea, and just about every other nurse, aide or passer-by in the hospital watching the delivery. My doctor had just switched from a different hospital and I was only her second delivery at this hospital. Being the newbie, people wanted to see how she did things. Luckily, being in pain and having a purpose distracted me enough that I didn't care how many people were in the room. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Around noon my doctor came in to check me and I was at about 7cm. She cranked up the Pitocin a bit more, and told me I'd probably be ready soon. I was still blissfully numb, so that was fine with me. Around 2pm she came back. I was at 10 cm. She had the anesthesiologist turn off the epidural (stop the drip from going in and keeping me numb). She wanted me to be able to feel to push. Did I really need to feel it? Couldn't I just push when she said push? So a little after 2:00pm I started to push. The nurses cranked up the back of the bed, my knees were pulled up so I could grab them, I had my DB (dear boyfriend, now husband) on one side of me and my sister on the other. And my doctor would watch the monitor to see when I was in a contraction (because I was still numb) and she would tell me when to push. Wasn't so hard for the first 20 mins or so, then the epidural started to wear off. But I trudged along. I had to have an episiotomy (which luckily she numbed me for) and then lo and behold, at exactly 3:20pm, out popped......A GIRL!

A girl? I wanted a girl so badly, but I am one of those kinds of people who likes to be prepared for the worst, so I didn't want to hope for a girl and be disappointed. So I had myself convinced it was a boy. But it was A GIRL! Yea, a girl. I remember my doctor asking DB if he wanted to cut the cord. I'm not sure he wanted to, but what do you say in the heat of the moment, no? So he cut the cord, the doc wiped her down a bit, wrapped her in a blankie, and gave her to me. Here she is in her very first picture:


After a minute or so they took her away, gave her a perfect Apgar score, cleaned her up, swaddled her like a sausage and then gave her back to me. My perfect little baby was, perfect! DB and I had talked about names. We had it narrowed down to Jacqueline (Jacquie) or Caroline (Carley). Carley won in the end, and I think it fits her.

Here she is while they were checking her out:



Here's my OB and me the next day (Carley is hard to see, but that's her all swaddled up.)


Below is one of her laying on her dad at about 3 months:


And here she is by herself at about 4 months:


We like to call that one "Crazy hair Carley".

And finally, one of her at 2 years old:


Maybe I'll try to get a picture of her today, so I can show you what "14 year old" Carley looks like. It's harder to get her to pose these days. It seems like just yesterday when I was pregnant with her. And yet it also seems like an eon ago. I can't believe those baby, toddler, pre-schooler, kid, years are gone. She is a young adult now really. Off to high school next year. Tick tock, tick tock.

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new. ~Rajneesh~

"The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time"
~James Taylor~

Day Two

(This is a continuation of a story started yesterday about my eldest daughters birth).

So I ended yesterday with going to bed and trying to sleep whilst having contractions.

So now it's Thursday. I wake up in the morning, still feeling the same way I felt the day before. Intermittent contractions, come and go every 15 -20 mins or so. I call my doctor and she says I should come back into her office and she will check me again. I get there, she puts the belt on, yes, I am still having what she calls "mild" contractions (they didn't feel mild to me!) and I am barely at 2 cm. Barely 2? I tell her I cannot go on like this for 8 more days if it is taking me a day to advance 1 cm. So she says she will strip my membranes and see if it will help speed things along. I didn't really know what "stripping my membranes" was, but it hurt like hell. While she was "in there" doing her thing, I asked her to stop, it was really, really uncomfortable. She got a bit snippy with me "You do want your labor to progress don't you?" No, duh, I think I'd like to be pregnant forever. What a stupid question. The whole goal was for me to get something out and here she was shoving her arm 1/2 way in, and twisting things around in there. Ouch!

(And I'd like to let you all know my doctor had never been pregnant, so she really had no idea how any of her torture devices felt.)

So after my "stripping" experience, she tells me to go back home and see how things go. I asked her what will it take for her to want to induce. She says I'm still moving along fine on my own, albeit a bit slowly, let's leave it to nature.

I want to have this baby now! But alas, Carley was meant to be born on the 24th not the 23rd, so I will need to wait one more day.

So DH and I went home. I continued to take my Darvocet to lessen the pain of the contractions and I tried to rest and sleep. I didn't make it through the night................more tomorrow : )

Carley Turns 14

My oldest will be 14 on Tuesday. At 3:20pm to be exact. I was in labor with her for three days before she was born, so I thought I would spend the next three days writing about her appearance into this world. (She was born on Friday, I started labor on Wednesday, technically about 54 hours, so not exactly three days : )

Carley (Caroline) was originally due on my birthday, February 19. She was 5 days late. But she started to try making her appearance on the 22nd. It was a Wednesday. I thought I was in labor. Now having never been in labor before, I was interpreting what I thought was labor. I had pain, a lot of pain, and it would stop for 10-15 mins and then start again. I called my doctor Wednesday morning and she said to come to her office and she would check me out. When I got there she put the belt on me, and yes, I was having contractions, but they weren't "productive" contractions. I was dilated to 1 cm. Yes, only 1. So she gave me some pain meds and sent me home. She said I would probably have the baby in a few days, but not that day. I wasn't that late (only a few days) and she didn't want to force things yet. Ugh!

So home I went, where I took my pain meds and tried to sleep. I didn't get much sleep that night, the meds didn't take the contraction pain completely away, and I kept having intermittent contractions all night. They never got too close together, so I just laid in bed and prayed for it to be over!

I'll tell you about day 2 of my labor tomorrow.