Rain at Last!

Last night, after weeks of being teased with forecasts of thunderstorms that never happened, it finally rained.  And it really rained!  For about four hours, we had constant thunder and lightning and torrential downpours. Three inches of rain were reported at the airport closest to us.  I think we got more :-).  I love weather.  I'm not sure why, but storms really fascinate me.  Christian and I were awake to watch much of it, until we were diverted from the show by Michael's frantic call that his basement bedroom was flooding! Well over a foot of rain had collected in the window well and water poured in through the window.  It was a long, long night that lasted into the early morning.  Today is going to be a slow day for Mom, indeed. We have lots of towels to wash and a nap to take.  With more storms predicted throughout the weekend, it's definitely time to read our rain books:

Down Comes the Rain,

Flash, Crash, Rumble, and Roll,

and Storm in the Night.

It's Signing Time with Nicky and Katie!

Every once in awhile, one of my children sets us off on a rabbit trail that becomes part of the family culture.  About eighteen months ago, Nicholas (then four), was fascinated with a wooden sign language puzzle I had on the alphabet shelf.  When he lifted the knobbed pieces he could see which sign stood for which letter.  He was completely focused on learning those signs.  And then, he began his campaign for more.  "Teach me how to talk with my hands!"

I found some beautiful and very effective books, The Handmade Alphabet and The Handmade Counting Book.  Quickly, he mastered those alphabet signs and the number signs and still, he was unrelenting in his begging for more.  Lissa wholeheartedly suggested the Signing Time DVDs.  I ordered the six that were available at the time.  A family addiction was born.  We all learned the songs; we all learned the signs.  I got to know Rachel Coleman, the woman behind the amazing videos, and was so inspired by her story.  We've been singing and signing ever since.  There are more volumes in our collection now and we've moved on to other resources like American Sign Language the Easy Way and The American Sign Language Phrase Book.  Talking with our hands is something we just do. 

We had always dabbled  a little with signing simple things for our babies.  Now, we're all looking forward to Signing Time board books and Baby Signing Time videos and a brand new baby to learn all those signs!

Yesterday, all alone in the kitchen, I started singing one of my favorite Signing Time songs, Shine.I went to the website to find the lyrics and learned I must not be the only mom who loves the songs for herself. Now there is a CD of all the songs that resonate with parents.  I thought about how much Signing Time and sign language have become a part of who we are as a family.  And I was so glad my four-year-old took me by the hand and led me down this lovely trail.

Mary Beth's turn

At nine years old, where I'm from:

I am from reams of paper, Little House books, Hanna Andersson to match Katie, and ballet slippers.

I am from the big, brick house that smells like lavender and ginger. I am from warm colors on the walls, a flowered canopy hanging above my bed, and balls in the house even though they’re “not allowed.”

I am from the tulips, the basil, the parsley, the flat backyard with soccer goals.

I am from singing Christmas carols to awaken Mommy and Daddy on Christmas morning and cooking Italian meals. I am from Lisettes and Elizabeths and Michaels and Patricks.

I am from kids who play soccer before they can walk and who love to draw. I’m from tickle jail and butterfly kisses. I’m from sister handshakes and “matching-so cool!”

I’m from “Be ladylike” and from “Have fun.”

I am from being Catholic, bedtime prayers, Tomie de Paola, everybody’s icons, front door crucifixes, holy water fonts, feast days and family rosaries. I’m from a devotion to the Little Flower and John Paul the Great.

I'm from Fairfax, Virginia and Italy and Norway and Scotland and Poland, from basil and garlic and bringing Daddy breakfast-in-bed.

I am from crying when Nicky was a boy and getting roses when Katie was a girl and dancing with Michael in that itchy dress at Jimmy's and Michele’s wedding.

I am from Mommy’s camera and blogging. I’m from the hope chest filled with baptism candles, a ribbon bouquet from Mommy’s wedding rehearsal, broken boards from Tae Kwon Do, old pictures of Mommy wearing a wig to cover her baldness, pictures of babies that all look so much alike it’s hard to know who is who.

I am from playing dolls with my sister, listening to pots and pans being cleaned while I fall asleep, reading chapter books until I can’t keep my eyes open, school baskets, nature study, the Montessori shelves, and watching Katie and Gracie grow.

I am from home.

I am from

Rebecca and Lissa inspired me to try my hand at this.  The template linked at Lissa's blog makes it really simple. I found the exercise of writing it very thought-provoking.  I'm going to have my children give it a try!

I am from...

I am from bicycle helmets long before they were required by law, from Garanimals, and much-coveted Limited jeans.

I am from many different houses, none very far from a Naval base and always on the road to the beach, where we would stop every day at a roadside stand for fresh peaches and “squirty tomatoes.”

I am from the seashore, the rocky Newport cliffs, the cabana at the beach, the sand dollars of South Carolina, the swimming lessons with Grandpa off the coast of Long Island.

I am from pumpkin bread at Thanksgiving and always talking with one’s hands, from four generations of Lizette, Lisette, and Elizabeth, all of them teachers and sticklers for style.

I am from stand up straight, act like a lady, and keep your house clean.

I am from a mother and grandmother who believed in Catholic education and spoke with perfect grammar.

I’m from a Naval hospital in Rhode Island and a frequent childhood visitor to other antiseptic corridors, my head wrapped in bandages.

But I am rooted in Italy, dripping with olive oil and smelling of basil, recognizing much too late the rich heritage of many great aunts, all of whom talk with their hands and smell like tomatoes and basil.

I’m from waving cloth diapers from those rocky cliffs while Daddy’s ship pulled away into the vast sea, from visits with Nanny where I ate blueberry breakfasts in a Clorox-clean kitchen, from playing house—and dreaming dreams-- for hours with my little sister (and only constant childhood friend), if only to keep her from running down the street, wearing nothing but a wig.

I am from a storage room on St. Dennis Drive whose shelves were lined with canned tomatoes and homemade strawberry jam and are now dissembled and dispersed, sending wedding dresses, spelling bee ribbons, and fading pictures of gap-toothed girls at Disney to homes in houses bigger and fuller than those we ever dreamed, homes, that, surprisingly are much too far from the sea.

What type of homeschooler are you?

I took this quiz last year and I was a Swiss Family Robinson  homeschooler. And that was when my garden was pitiful.  This year, better garden, more outside time, definite longing for a treehouse, and I ended up

What Type of Homeschooler Are You?

Abraham Lincoln You have a Bible and a library card what more could you possibly need? You prefer the Charlotte Mason Method of reading living books for everything: historical fiction, biographies, real histories, nature guides, etc. No soon-to-be-outdated textbooks for you. Visit my blog: http://www.GuiltFreeHomeschooling.blogspot.com
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