Turning a New Page in Life

My somber previous post has scared me away from blogging. But there's now a (leaky) cap on the gushing BP oil well, so that's a bit of an improvement. Enough said, there isn't much Pollyanna in me about that issue. But here is a link to a haunting song by Mithril, inspired by the oil spill. The images on the video are all from better days gone by on local beaches. (My three kids each have a picture included.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UhlEV6xoPo




This week marks my first attempt at homeschooling my twelve-year-old son. He has a Neuro Immune Dysfunction, which causes autistic behaviors and has been receiving special services through the public school system since he was three. But there is no way I am going to send my sweet, innocent boy into the whirlwind of middle school. I've known I was going to homeschool him for the past year—and have been studying all I can on the subject and networking as much as possible for this socially awkward mother—but I spent most of my free time (amid numerous events and sick children) last week charting out an actual weekly planning page—a hybrid of a dozen I've looked at—and choosing the first week's goals. And, I must admit, I also zoned out on Free Cell several times. I wrote absolutely nothing on my WIP and barely logged one journal entry in my notebook.

There is a time and a season for everything, and right now I need to restructure my day to fit it all in. I need to decide if I'll write in the morning before the kids wake, which has been my exercise time, or attempt writing at night, when my mind is mostly mush, since quiet time might need to be used for one-on-one with the eldest. It's a good thing Laurie Halse Anderson's WFMAD is next month—I need some motivation!

Back to the homeschooling experience. Day One=Field trip!
Community experiences at the post office, pediatrician's office, pharmacy, and mall. Walking the mall was the fitness time for the day, too. At home, we took turns reading two books about farmers and pigs, and I let him flip through a third. Our unit study/theme is farms, which is something he loves. He copied twelve spelling words (taken from the farm books) three times and did thirty-five addition problems as part of a math review. And there were no meltdowns—success!

I praised him throughout the day and before bed I asked him if he liked doing work at home. He said yes and smiled. A warm fuzzy!


On a personal note, I've finally gotten around to some lighter--but deep--reading.













as well as





Still many more books on my library list and on my own shelves to read.


In honor of the fiftieth anniversary of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee I'm closing with one of a series of five poems I wrote for a freshman high school report. Each poem had to be from a different character's perspective. Give me a break, I was only fourteen....


Personal Guide

Watching you grow up,
that's what it's all about.
Teaching you,
watching you learn.
No matter what you do,
I'll always be here for you.

I was put on Earth to guide you.
So come, little children,
stay close to my side.
It's a wicked world
and I don't want to lose you
to its powerful influence.

But don't be afraid,
I'll help you..
If there is any doubt in your mind,
just stay close, my child.
That's what I'm ere for;
a parent is a guide.

On a Serious Note

A week and a half ago, this was the view from our hotel room (compliments of my big sister, booked weeks before the Deep Water Horizon explosion) on Pensacola Beach. Beautiful, except for a slight tea colored staining along the water line. My children and nephews played in the sand, well above possible contamination. And blessed be the hotel's pools!

But the oil has been gushing for over two months. Response is slow. Lack of nationwide support is disheartening. It might be a political statement from those with the power and money. It might be a way to show the evils of offshore drilling, by slowing the response to create prolonged damage. It might be a control game between public and private and government sectors. Heck, the oil rig might have been blown up by an enemy sub! I don't know. But I do know our waters, our land, the creatures, and even the people who call this section of earth home are suffering.

Pensacola Beach had clumpy, brown oil washing on shore for several hours. Miles of scenic beaches are now splattered with sticky grime, much more difficult to clean than the previous tar balls. No skimmers were spotted from the shore and the state government admonished the federal government to send more skimmers to protect the coast of Florida. There are only a few skimmers covering the whole state—if you call that “covering”.

Four dolphins washed ashore off Pensacola Beach yesterday. Three were successfully placed back in the water but the forth, oil clinging to its side and face, didn't survive. It made crying sounds and the rest of the pod—believed to be the dolphins who swim by Fort Pickens every morning—were jumping out of the water, trying to communicate with their lost member. A family vacationing from Arkansas, as well as other bystanders, were the unsung heroes. They shed their own tears as they worked to scrap off what oil they could with their bare hands. It's difficult enough to explain to a four year old that the gulf water is dirty and we can't play in it or build castles with the moist, easily shaped sand... but to witness the death of an innocent creature is an unforgettable teaching experience I hope to never encounter.

Bayley's Seafood, opened in 1947, is a landmark near Mobile Bay. I'm not even local but I know it's practically historic in nature among the true seafood eateries of L.A. (That's Lower Alabama, not Los Angeles or Louisiana. I've learnt me somethin' down here!) My family passes Bayley's every time we drive to Dauphin Island. Their recipes are award winning but the owners are speaking out that they might have to close. Every week there is less fresh seafood to be bought. Less items to sell to customers.

A local charter boat captain—a husband and father—committed suicide on his boat and it is speculated at this time that his worries over the oil spill (dare we assume the fact that he wasn't able to run his business as normal had anything to do with it?) were the catalyst.

These examples were taken from the first ten minutes of News 5 Wednesday night. Multiply these stories—and all those in the weeks before—by the unnumbered days that the oil will still be gushing. And then, again, by the time it takes the free floating oil to be collected, or washed up on the sugar white sand beaches of the gulf coast. Only then can we accumulate an idea of how catastrophic this is for our earth. For our wildlife. For our economy. For our health. For our children's children.

And that's not even touching on the dispersants and other chemicals being used...


On a sweeter note (let's hope this link works, you might need to copy and paste), here's a video of Norah Jones preforming "Dauphin Island" earlier this month:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NErh3OuMEzE&feature=related

So Much to Read, So Little Time

Most of my down time lately has been spent reading. Studying is more like it. Up to my ears in non-fiction reading. Here's a sampling of titles, all from the local library:


Secret Lives of Boys: Inside the Raw Emotional World of Male Teens by Malina Saval
*Graphic language at times—the first chapter has it the heaviest.*
Over-all, a fascinating read. Boys are a lot like girls when it comes to worries/fears.



Exiting Nirvana : A Daughter's Life with Autism by Clara Claiborne Park
It's refreshing to find a book dealing with an older child on the spectrum. And one that's artistically inclined, like my son. Since I have so many informative books to read right now, I'm using this one as my light/nighttime reading. As interesting as it is, I look forward to some fluff.


1001 Great Ideas for Teaching and Raising Children with Autism or Asperger's by Ellen Notbohm and Veronica Zysk
Lots of good ideas: some old, some new. Taking notes...



The Everything Homeschooling Book by Sherri Linsenbach
Need I say more?


On a good—possibly pathetic—note, I've written over twelve chapters of Corroded. Eleven of those (89 pages) have been through the mill in the awesome critique group I'm in. Thank you, QuillMasters!
My main character is based on me as a teen, but amplified. The more she stretches her limits, the more fun (and harder!) it is to write. It's almost like reliving high school, thinking about all the “what ifs” and if I had that chance, would I have been brave (or stupid) enough to do or say something... For the most part the answer is no. And, an enormous NO for ever wanting to actually go back and live through it again.

Speaking of me as a teen: back by popular demand (well, all four people who voted wanted to see more) is a random poem from a seventeen year old me.

Lost

Crashing waves against the sand.
The tempest whirls in my head.
A soul
dragged down
by Satan's grasp
Has left the world
victim of the
sacrifice.

Numb no More

I've felt emotionally numb off and on over the years, especially since becoming a mother. It's difficult to draw the line between mother-fatigue and depression but either (and most diffidently the combination of the two!) could be counted as a cause of the numbness.

Since my WIP is a teen novel, I felt the urge to reconnect to my younger, emotional self. Pictures from the era provide an opening but it's my poetry that drags all the emotions back—kicking and screaming.
And, wow, was I in touch with my inner angst!
Check out my brooding self in Pebble Beach, 1992....

Oh, I miss my hair!

I thought it'd be fun to start adding a few poems to each post—providing a flash-portrait of some of the imaginings of my former self. I'll even put the desperately awful ones up.

I'll start things off with a poem which I turned in to my Creative Writing teacher and he wrote a “please see me” note on the bottom of it. I was too embarrassed to confront him, thinking he might be suspecting abuse or something. But he never followed up on it, not sure if that's good or bad... hmm.

The poem, written by my sixteen year old self, was inspired by the movie ___________.

Wait, you tell me!
(Hint: 80's fantasy. No, the movie title is NOT in the poem/title.)


Mask

Illusions surround
my every move
Walking through the corridor of eternity
I feel tampered with and used

Down the path I see someone I know
look again
it isn't who it seems to be
A face turned and twisted
in my mind
to become fantasy

But after all
what is a face
environment
or a smile?
They are things we hide behind
truths we run from for miles.


What movie do you think it is? Comment!
The first correct person might win an autographed copy of the poem. :)

And don't forget to vote.

The Dreaded Year-end Blog

Or shall we call it “The New Beginnings Blog”?
Yes, that's much better. See, barely a year older and already wiser.

Speaking of birthdays, here's a picture of my most awesome gift.



I'd get frustrated with it but it's too much fun. Whoever created this is an evil genius.



Since I changed my New Year's resolutions into birthday goals, I pulled out the dusty list and decided what was mastered, what needed continual coverage, and what had to be ditched. Here's the latest line-up.

For my “physical” goal, I dumped the “get below ___” and have set in place actual monthly mile goals, as well as how many times a month, to chart my exercise. Life is too short to live by numbers, whether it's counting calories or trying to get those last five (or twenty, or more...) pounds off before you can feel totally happy with yourself. Just give me jeans that don't create a muffin-top effect and a shirt that doesn't make me look six months pregnant and I feel great. But I must admit, it's getting harder to find those clothes...

“Mental” was difficult to keep (no snide remarks, please!)—reading one non-fiction book a month. Some months I read more than one and other months I was lucky to keep up with my scripture studies and my few magazine/newsletter subscriptions (which are non-fiction). So, I'm keeping it simple: Keep learning!

“Spiritual” is a keeper. I still need to improve the quality of my prayers. It's just too easy to whisper a quick “thank you” and snuggle into bed at night. Or keep hitting snooze until all the kids are running around and I forget to start the day on my knees.

For the “emotional” aspect of life I've broadened my goal to include more things but removed the actual time constraints. So, instead of completing an emotional inventory once a month (I only got around to doing two this past year) I'll “keep track of my emotional state by regular (how's that for a cop out?) journal keeping, testing, and meditation.” In case you were wondering, I do the Beck Depression Inventory and Burns Anxiety Inventory tests to track my ups and downs, as suggested by a great counselor many years ago. But that's another entry...

“Social”: I totally suck with all things social. I'm keeping my dinky goal of having one date with my husband a month because I really need to work on spending quality time with my man. And I'm too much of a wallflower to attempt weekly/monthly social gatherings.

I think “Family” is the only goal I excelled at. We are in the habit of weekly Family Home Evenings so I'm upping the goal to have daily devotionals. Just a mini something, beyond the reading of a verse or two of scriptures before bed I already do with the kids. I'll be homeschooling my oldest next school year (yet another future entry) so the daily devotionals would work well into a schooling schedule.

“Financial” is tough. Didn't meet the goal but I'm thinking positively and increasing—actually decreasing—the numbers. Oh, those pesky numbers again! Didn't I just write something about life being too short to live by numbers. Might need to rethink this one...

I came close to meeting my “professional” goal. I wanted to complete the first draft—I'm about two-thirds of the way through—of Corroded, my WIP (work in progress). My new goal is to have Corroded polished in time for the 2011 submission deadline for the Delacorte contest. Hopefully the publishing company will keep that contest going, but if not, I'll look for an agent or submit elsewhere. Delacorte offers a yearly prize for the best contemporary teen book for a first time novelist. The winner is published with an advance as the prize money. Since that goal will actually extend beyond my next birthday—submission is in the fall—I've also added to begin my historical fiction novel, which I've been researching/thinking/planning/etc on for the past couple years. Plus, I will be open to submitting short pieces for publication or contests when the opportunities arise, but I don't want to add in a goal for those. Less stress.


Feel free to urge me along with these goals. Keep me on task by asking me how something is going. I do much better at staying focused when I have someone checking on me. That's why my BFF (Blog Free February) was so successful—I felt I had to answer to Laurie Halse Anderson.


On to other things...

I've read several interesting books in the past month.

The Map of True Places by Brunonia Barry kept me as interested in the story as The Lace Reader, her first book.

It always helps when Hawthorne references are thrown in but the mental issues driving the story were well crafted by themselves. The fact that I visited Salem two years ago makes her books that much easier to visualize while reading. Brunonia's books are two out of maybe six “adult” fiction books I've read in the past year or more. They aren't squeaky clean, so reader beware.


From the local library I borrowed The Art and Craft of Writing Historical Fiction by James Alexander Thom.

His actual novels are now on my to read list. The book is a great source of information and easily digested. I even read it before bed several times instead of my usual fluffy reading.


Speaking of fluff, my last nighttime read was the type of novel I'd usually skip. But since I was lucky enough to get an advanced reader's copy (which I also got for The Map of True Places) I tried it out. One of those upper class high school novels... it's called She's So Dead to Us, written by Kieran Scott.

It's better than I expected—stayed up three nights in a row, way past my usual lights out, to read. But even though the ending was more of a beginning (sequel/series in the works, I'm sure) it's not something I'll seek out again.

Tonight I'll start When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead because Newbery winners seldom disappoint. Another library selection.


A few other things of interest that happened in April:



I saw my first 3-D movie since Captain Eoo at Disneyland in the mid 1980s. Alice in Wonderland was great! The technology and the story were a great match. I loved the older Alice and how the movie started and ended. Still not my favorite Johnny Depp performance, though. That goes to Benny and Joon.




Took a day trip to New Orleans to spend a few hours with my awesome cousin who was down south from out west on business. We hadn't seen each other since a reunion in 1994, I think it was. I'd have to check the cow shirt to be sure...

The family spent “A Day Out with Thomas” one rainy Saturday afternoon. The kids LOVED all the trains, especially the ride on Thomas the Tank Engine, even though he was terribly SLOW.

Spent a dozen collective hours at the Little League park.

And all the kids went to the dentist for cleanings, the youngest for the first time. We'll be dealing with a cavity-filling appointment in the future. Gag.




No, they aren't that bad on the little princess's teeth. This pictures makes me feel a little better, though.

Wow! It looks like I need to return to blogging more often. This blog is huge!