Meridian ATA Martial Arts: A Love Story in Fits, Starts, and Parts: In which I am suckered into trying Krav Maga

If you’re just getting involved with this story, please start here.  Then go here.  It’s important that you have the background before we proceed.

All caught up? Great.  Here we go:

A few months into my tae kwon do training, Mr. Neitzell approached me about trying another class offered at the school, called Krav Maga.  For all the strides I made in TKD, I was uncomfortable with the portion of class devoted to real life self defense situations.  Mr. N pulled me aside one night after class and said he thought I ought to try Krav Maga—“I have a class that might be better for you.” were his exact words.

But, what exactly IS Krav Maga, you ask?

Krav Maga is a simple, effective self defense system. It emphasizes instinctive movements, practical techniques, and realistic training scenarios. That means hitting and punching and kicking and grappling and a whole bunch of other stuff that is just freaking scary. 

As I sat through my kids’ tae kwon do classes, I often saw the members of the Krav class coming and going. All of them (at the time) were grim looking burly dudes with necks like tree trunks, heavy shoulders, and thick arms.  Out of morbid curiosity, I would peek into the room where they were training. They were punching and kicking the crap out of each other, to the tune of some very hairy sounding music.  It looked rough. Really rough.

How was this going to be “better” for me?

As scary as it looked, I was fascinated.  And frightened out of my mind.  Krav Maga? Better for me? NO THANK YOU!  (But I’ll watch, from over here by the exit…)

Mr. N persisted. “Come try it!” he’d say. “When are you coming to class?” he’d ask.  “Get in here!” he’d say with a smile.  “It’s fun!” he’d say.  I’d laugh nervously and shake my head. I think one time, I might have even skittered away from Mr. N as he was headed into teach Krav, half afraid he’d drag me in by my shirt collar. (But he would never do that…I think….)  I was so scared of Krav, but I couldn’t stay away---I’d find myself peeking through the door, paying less attention to my adorable little ninja children and more to the down and dirty fighting techniques the bad-ass dudes were doing.

One day, as I was pretending to watch my kids during their TKD class, Mr. Neitzell came to me and told me the Krav class was going to play flag football (without the football) and they needed one more player and would I mind helping out? I had played this a few times in tae kwon do and was fairly decent at it, so I agreed.  (I am SUCH a sucker. I can’t believe I fell for that.)

It was a blast! Especially since I managed to keep my tags for most of the game. And I was playing against thugs! Go me! Of course, now I wonder if Mr. N staged my victory, just to pull me in…(“Okay, guys, go easy on her. This time….”)

But whatever.  I had fun---my adrenaline was going and I had even laughed a little, and done a tiny victory dance. (No gloaters here!) And then I stayed for the self defense technique of the day—getting out of a choke from the front. I’d done that before in tae kwon do! And, it was a GREAT WORKOUT! And the self defense techniques did seem really practical. And what, what? No uniform required? No wedgie?  Okay, I’ll try a full class.  Just one. 

Just. One.

And thus, I entered the world of Krav Maga.  And this is the part of the story where I get emotional and stupid and have to stop and just say this much: Though I have had a push-pull relationship with it over the last few years, Krav Maga has been very, very good for me. Especially recently.

But that’s a future post.

Coming up…

In the last couple of weeks, I have thought of a bunch of post ideas—but because they are dear to my heart, or hard, or just plain work, I have shied away from actually writing them.  Because, you know, that would require emotional investment.  And I’m a little tapped out on feelings right now. I’d like to just not feel anything---

Wow—that sounds so doom and gloom.  It’s not—a lot of  the feelings I’ve experienced in the last couple of weeks have been joyous and amazing and life altering in very good ways---and some of them have been just silly and fun, and others have brought me to the depths of despair---the tired cliché “emotional roller coaster” is tired for a reason. It’s been running non-stop for awhile around here.  (Bad joke, sorry.) Mostly, it’s been awesome---but now I’m just freaking tired. 

So, after a good long nap…at some point…soon…I hope…I will post about the following things: (Yes, I’m setting myself up here---to those who will keep me accountable---you know who you are, heatherstaceybethjanet!)

Rosegaelle: Orphans, Adoption, and Child Sponsorship

I don’t yet even know where to start with everything I have to say about our experience sponsoring this little girl.  It’s been amazing and enlightening and wonderful and heartbreaking. All at the same time.

 

Meridian ATA Martial Arts: A Love Story, continued—Krav Maga

A continuation of my story with Meridian ATA Martial Arts---because this post and this other post weren’t enough.

 

IDU (Idaho Destination Unknown): A new series

For Mother’s Day, Julio took me to an amazing restaurant, The Cornerstone Bistro, where we chatted with other patrons seated at our table.  One gal told us that she and her family used to go on spontaneous road trips—day trips to wherever—they just started driving and stopped when something looked interesting.  She called these “DU (Destination Unknown) trips.”  We loved the idea and took off on our own the next day.

 

New series: Passion and Purpose:

Cantus Youth Choirs

One of the many beautiful things about homeschooling is that it gives parents the opportunity to handpick teachers and mentors for their children.  We have been incredibly blessed to find many people who are living their dreams, sharing their passions and expertise with us.  The first post will introduce you to Cantus Youth Choirs, the community choir my kids have been involved with for the last three years.  This is not your ordinary choir, my friends—this is transformative.

 

Passion and Purpose: Xpressions Dance Academy

In the second post in the Passions and Purpose series, I’ll introduce you to Alexis Langworthy, director of Xpressions Dance Academy and all around amazing woman and dancer, who changed my little Gloria’s world through dance and artistic expression.

 

Random Bits: Stuff I’ve been reading, watching, or thinking about

I daresay that one’s pretty self explanatory.

 

Okay. Now, I’m committed.  After all, I posted pictures.  I’m such a stinking tease.  More soon.  Hold my feet to the fire, people.

 

 

Meridian ATA Martial Arts: A Love Story in Fits, Starts, and Parts, continued…

If you’re just tuning in, please start here, or you might wonder what the heck I’m talking about.

So—after my little freak out—and Ms. Strader’s kind and true words about being safe in the ATA family, I sheepishly made my way back to class.  I fully expected everyone to look at me warily and keep their distance, or perhaps whisper about the crazy chick, but my beautiful classmates and instructors acted as if nothing had ever happened. The only awkwardness came from my own self consciousness. I wish I could say it went away completely, but as the class continued to stretch me physically and mentally, I worried.  Could I stay in control if confronted with *something* again?

I found that certain drills and self-defense techniques triggered my panic mode, but I was determined not to lose it again.  My instructors walked me through tough techniques and let me opt out and just watch when I needed to.  I felt like a pansy sometimes a lot all the time.  I wanted to be able to just walk into class and kick butt like everyone else.  Some days, I had to talk myself into going to class, because I’d want to chicken out, or I had convinced myself that people thought I was ridiculous.

But I kept going back, because no matter how pathetic I felt, I was supported and cheered on by my instructors.  I grew especially fond of Mrs. Karen Redmond and her husband, Mr. Steve Redmond. Mrs. Redmond was great at explaining and demonstrating techniques (over and over again because I’m a slow learner!) and she is SO patient and upbeat. Mr. Redmond was exacting and has a dry sense of humor that made me laugh even as he doled out extra jumping jacks or tension kicks to whiners me the class. I also found out that one of the instructors, a venerable man named Mr. Roy Ivey, was connected to my family—he was the childhood friend of one of my uncles, and they still golfed together regularly!

A line up of instructors (l-r): Miss Shaw, Mr. Ivey, Mr. Bullock, Mr. Redmond, Ms. Strader, Mrs. Neitzell, Mr. Neitzell (P.S. I’m seated in front of Mr. Redmond.)

The teen instructor trainees were amazing, too.  Kids as young as 13 or 14 who were in training to become certified instructors were so mature and helpful. It was humbling to have to call a teen “Sir” or “Ma’am” and recognize them as my superior in class.  But the kids took their role as instructor trainees seriously. They always showed courtesy and respect to the class and to each other. I mean, it’s built in to the system, but the feelings and behavior were genuine.  They were patient and enthusiastic and encouraging. And they know their stuff.  Any question I had was answered. Any technique demonstrated.

I learned to loosen up and laugh at myself.  When I was frustrated or discouraged, or had fallen on my butt (a common occurrence), people were there to offer a pep talk, or relate their own failures and shortcomings and how they dealt (or were dealing) with them. Often the stories they told were hilarious and we’d get laughing so hard, we’d cry.

Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE had a “can-do” attitude. One of the mottoes of the ATA is “Today impossible, tomorrow possible.” Another is “Everything turns out beautiful and perfect.” How can you not love something as optimistic and affirming as this? In fact, the whole philosophy behind the ATA is about growth and possibility and living up to your potential.  Not that growing and living up to one’s potential was ever easy. But, I can tell you that my experience in the Meridian ATA tae kwon do program made me more comfortable with myself—physically and emotionally, and boy, did I gain confidence.

I couldn’t hide anything for very long when regularly practicing tae kwon do (or Krav Maga—but more on that later.)  The physical exertion of martial arts stretches one to one’s physical (and sometimes emotional) limits. Very quickly, I had to accept the fact that I was out of shape, inflexible, and had very little endurance. I mean, I already knew that, intellectually, before I started tae kwon do, but Spanx has no place in martial arts. (It restricts range of motion significantly….not that I would know….I plead the fifth on this one.)  At any rate, it was immediately apparent what I had to work with.  Because it was impossible to fake my abilities, I had to accept what I had and go from there.  This was very freeing.  I was free to work, free to challenge myself, free to actually see improvements bit by bit…going from not being able to do one abdominal crunch when I started, to (months later) busting out full sit-ups like nobody’s business. I lost 20 pounds in three months.

Accepting where I was emotionally was tougher.  I didn’t trust anybody much, and wasn’t willing to “let people in.” I admit, I still struggle with this today (says the gal who posts all her angst on a public blog.  I’m better in writing than in person, it’s just the way it is.) but I’ve come a LONG way in learning how to speak up, set boundaries, be kind, and learn to discern who is trustworthy and who isn’t.

Me and my classmate, Tracy, in 2009.

And what about my kids---the ones who started this whole adventure and led the way for me?  Well, they thrived.  Calvin—who was always previously outshined by Ellen’s stellar little self—came into his own.  He was good at tae kwon do. He was regularly given leadership opportunities and he gained confidence and a sense of humor (there’s a pattern here, you know.) Ellen, who had previously never struggled with ANYTHING and thereby got complacent and even a little lazy, found that she had to WORK---and it agreed with her.  She was able to see her own progress, and learn how to deal positively with disappointment and failure, and how to set and achieve goals.  She also gained confidence and learned how to handle her nerves.  Gloria just loves using her body, moving around, showing off trying new things. When Blythe got old enough, we enrolled him as well---an adventure, which Mr. and Mrs. Neitzell and the other instructors have borne with grace (and the use of Spider Man and Avengers stickers to encourage Blythe to behave.)

Mr. and Mrs. Neitzell with the kids in 2008.

Blythe.  The pose says it all.

Our instructors have been more than just teachers in a class a couple times a week.  They have helped me back up parenting decisions and my value system by adding another layer of accountability for my kids.  They check in on the kids’ behavior and chores. They encourage the kids to practice respect, courtesy, kindness, and positive attitude—and they do it in the best way—by example!

My Meridian ATA family rocks.  (I’ve had a blast looking for pictures for this post—there are gazillions and they all bring back fond memories.) Stay tuned, because I’m still not done (with the story or the photos.) Telling my story here reminds me how blessed I’ve been to have these people and this organization in my life. They are my home.

Plan with Rigidity, Execute with Flexibility?

A few months ago, my husband had the opportunity to serve at the Boise LDS temple re-dedication.  He was part of the Spanish translation team for the broadcast of the re-dedicatory services.  He spent all three services (or sessions, as they’re known in Mormon-ese) in the basement of the temple, in a small utility room, the only place where the microphone wouldn’t pick up extraneous noises from the broadcast equipment and crew, who were also set up in the basement. Between translating at each session, my hubby got to chat with the security personnel who were charged with keeping things running smoothly.

The LDS prophet, President Thomas Spencer Monson, was at the temple that day and my hubby got to speak with the director of the prophet’s personal security detail.   President Monson’s frequent travels take him all over the world, and apparently, he creates quite a stir wherever he goes--stopping spontaneously en route, to visit at hospitals, homes of members, or to just greet interested passersby.  This behavior requires “on the fly” changes in security plans.

The director commented to my husband that, “We have learned to plan with rigidity and execute with flexibility.”

I have been thinking about that a lot lately.  I started out this school year with high ideals and intricate plans—and they have largely fallen by the wayside (again.)  It’s hard not to beat myself up about this—but I think I (and many others) underestimate just how much “life” happens to throw off the best laid homeschool academic plans.  When I first noticed this, I thought I just needed to plan better, be more rigid, demand more out of every minute: HERE IS MY PLAN AND BY GOLLY, WE WILL STICK WITH IT!
But it never works.  Ever.  So I keep trying, and keep getting frustrated when things go awry.



Because I’m a slow learner, I recently bought myself The Ultimate Homeschool Planner from Apologia.  It sounded awesome, and I loved its set up. “Use me,” it seemed to say, “and all your scheduling and planning issues will be solved! With me, you will reach your goals, your children will be studious and focused, you’ll have a clean house, and maybe even lose ten pounds!”

I thought for days how I was going to organize our hours, days, weeks, and months using this planner.  I spent several hours last week working up THIS week’s schedule for my two older kids.  I sat down with them and went over the plan.  I even made a meal plan for the entire week.  I was pumped, the kids were pumped.  We had a PLAN! We were going to ROCK next week!

Ahem.

Nothing has gone according to plan.  NO-THING.  The night before this awesome plan was going to work it’s magic, the dishwasher broke and flooded the kitchen from UNDER the wood floors.  The sub-flooring was soaked, the wood floor was warped, and there was water under the house.  Oh, and I had two days’ worth of dirty dishes that weren’t getting done.  The water had to be shut off, along with the electricity in the kitchen so we could fix the dishwasher.  We had no kitchen, and no water for 24 hours.  And then, when the water was turned back on, it came in one temperature: scalding. (I’ve heard of people having no running water, or no hot water---but no cold water????) I couldn’t shower or bathe my kids, or even work on Mount Dishmore because the water was TOO hot,unless we filled up the sink and tub and waited around for an hour or two---which just DIDN’T JIVE with my schedule…


(Keeping it real, folks. Really real. This is what my kitchen looks like when I fall behind on dishes—and don’t have a dishwasher. Or cold water to counterbalance the boiling water from the faucet.)

Okay, so the world’s tiniest violins are playing for me—really, this was just a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things, but it THREW my schedule—my PLAN!—out the window on the very first day.  Sigh.

I had also forgotten to include in my plan the fact that we had dentist appointments and a book club meeting on the first day.  AND, I didn’t account for a last minute change in schedule to my kids’ piano lessons.  My eight year old missed her dance class. Oh, and I misplaced the meal plan, which included my grocery list.

I was in the depths of despair until the mailman arrived with a package from my best friend from childhood, full of paper for school and art projects AND three notebooks we wrote back and forth in throughout the ninth grade.



The note enclosed said: “I included some ‘historical texts’ you might enjoy!” (Thanks, Cathi! I love you!)

So, all was not lost—I may not have had the perfect “DAY ONE OF THE NEW REGIME” but this made up for it!  I was ready to attack the rest of the week (oh, and my dishwasher and water issues were resolved that evening—a definite morale boost!) We also took the kids to Chuck E. Cheese so I didn’t have to cook and the kids could eat pizza, slurp soda, and generally run amok.

Day 2 was spent partying and dancing the Samba at our homeschool co-op (which was ON THE PLANNER! Woohoo!), resurrecting the house, and catching up on dishes and laundry. And showers.

However…

It is now Day 3 of my grand weekly plan---and while I tried to start the day with optimism and a degree of grace, I have already yelled at my six year old for not doing his language arts worksheet, threatened to turn a timer on for the big kids who are dilly-dallying instead of working on math, and abandoned school for the 8 year old entirely for the day. I let the kids eat Girl Scout cookies for lunch. And the baby is careening around the house in nothing but a diaper, a runny nose, and two stuffed unicorns under her arm, shouting “Twilight Sparkle! Twilight Sparkle! Twilight Sparkle!”



Okay, that IS pretty cute.

But back to today. The lesson in all of this, I suppose, is that while I managed to plan with rigidity, I also tried to execute with rigidity.  This has merely resulted in a stress headache. And an alarming lack of Thin Mints.

My day—MY LIFE—seems to go better when I PLAN with flexibility.  I have often been told by my Type A husband and friends that I fly by the seat of my pants. My lifestyle makes them a little crazy. Even my religion touts order as the ideal. And I admire that, I do.  I aspire to it.  But, maybe my sense of order---as disordered as it feels to others, is still order. It works for me, until I start looking around at how other people are ordering their lives and I think, “Hmm. They seem so put together, maybe I should try a different method!”  It’s comparison, of course, which doesn’t do anyone any good—unless perhaps one is shopping for a new dishwasher.

The truth is, I’m pretty put together when I do things my way. My way takes a lot of big swoops and nosedives. I sort of catapult through life.  To mix metaphors: I’ll never be accused of missing the forest for the trees.  My house is cleaner, my kids and I are happier, we get more accomplished, when I’m NOT trying to adhere to a rigid, intricate plan.  If I make a rigid plan, I feel the pressure to execute it in the same manner.  And no matter how many times I tell myself “execute flexibly” it just doesn’t happen, because I’ve set up the expectations with my “plan with rigidity” mindset.

So, again, I’m going back to flying by my seat. Over the forest. The view is great up here!

Meridian ATA Martial Arts: A Love Story in Fits, Starts, and Parts

I am sure my instructors and classmates would cringe at the title of this post, but folks---this IS a love story.  I write it here on my homeschool blog, because if it weren’t for my Meridian ATA family, I wouldn’t be where or who I am today. This post is my start.

Once upon a time (five or six-ish years ago) I was a stressed, out of control, insecure, crappy mom to four young kids. I can’t even explain how lousy and negative I was.  I yelled all the time, I was scared all the time, I reacted to everything in a temper. I felt paralyzed at the prospect of making simple decisions about anything. Everything freaked me out and I was totally overwhelmed and struggling to mentally and emotionally to “keep my head above water.” I could fake it for awhile, but inside, I was not awesome.

During this time, my son Calvin was in kindergarten and was struggling.  Academically, the kid was off-the-charts-smart, but he was having a hard time finding a place to fit in at school and at home. One day, he came home with a flyer advertising “Karate for Kids” and I thought we’d give it a go.  I remember my brothers’ involvement in martial arts when they were kids and how confident and focused it had made them.  I enrolled Calvin in a six week introductory class.

Calvin at his first rank test.

 

I was blown away by the awesomeness that is Meridian ATA Martial Arts.  Calvin’s instructor, Mrs. Heather Neitzell, was (IS!) amazing. It was as fun to watch her in class as it was to watch my kid.  Calvin thrived under her instruction. Mrs. Neitzell was everything I was not: positive, consistent, calm, encouraging, and kind.  I found myself taking mental notes about how to handle kids while watching Mrs. Neitzell teach Calvin’s class.  Calvin gained so much confidence and I was so impressed with Mrs. N that I decided to sign my two girls up for her class as well.  And then, in the hopes that some of Mrs. N’s awesomeness would rub off on me, I enrolled in the evening adult tae kwon do class that she taught with her husband, Mr. Jim Neitzell.

I was a squidgy ball of nerves at my first class.  I was overweight, hadn’t really exercised in years, and had just donned a white uniform that was cut for someone broad of shoulder and narrow of ass, not the other way around, like me. And the fabric had no give. I felt like an idiot. An idiot with a wedgie. 

Despite my wardrobe issues, I stepped onto the mat and was greeted by Mrs. N and a couple of teen male instructors who reminded me of Power Rangers, only without the dorky helmets. I thought I would die, and I was sure the instructors would burst out laughing at my doughy vastness.  But the instructors were encouraging and positive as I bumbled my way through the warm up and learned a bit of the first form of Songahm tae kwon do.  At the end of class, Mrs. N tied on my white belt while I was coached to holler “I want to be a black belt!” I left the first class feeling giddy.  I had survived. No one had laughed at me, and people were actually telling me they looked forward to seeing me at the next class. Maybe I could actually do this!

Here’s me in my uniform. I just passed my first rank test. I still had a wedgie.

The next three or so weeks of classes went the same—I started out terrified and feeling like a doofus, was patiently and enthusiastically taught basic techniques, and left the class feeling like a million bucks. I worked with many different instructors, of all ages and from various walks of life.  That was thrilling, and humbling, too.  Each of them were happy to tell me how they themselves got into tae kwon do, what it had done for them, their successes and failures, and lessons learned.

A note here about me: I grew up fairly active, if not particularly athletic. I ran a seven minute mile in high school, I took strength training and fitness classes in college. But after I started having babies, I became sedentary and put on weight. Taking up tae kwon do challenged my body in ways I never anticipated. It actually frightened me, discovering what my body could do, and seeing power and strength in my strikes and kicks. I cracked and broke boards. My newly discovered body also cracked open other things, too.

One day in class, I was working with a young male instructor. He was a nice guy, an excellent instructor, but I was intimidated by him. It had nothing to do with him personally. But he resembled a person from an ugly part of my younger life.  At that point in my tae kwon do classes, I hadn’t yet learned to speak up when I was uncomfortable with something---and I tried to manage my unease by reminding myself that my past was my past and it was over.

We were working on a kick drill I found particularly taxing—I was already uncomfortable working with this instructor and I was wearing down and stressing out. In an effort to keep me going, he lunged toward me—and I panicked.  I started kicking at him and screaming and crying all at the same time.  I was desperately out of control.  Fortunately, Mr. Neitzell was nearby and managed somehow to maneuver me to a bench to recover.  I was a wreck, and I was horrified by my behavior. I had caused a scene, disrupted class, and was screaming like a crazy person.  Mr. N sat down by me and tried to talk me down.  I don’t remember his words, but I do recall he reached out to reassure me, to pat my shoulder, or something---and still panicky, I snarled at him to leave me alone. Mr. N immediately backed off. (Understandably.  I’m sure he didn’t want me to go all bat-s#&* again.) What struck me, even as I was not in a good place, was that Mr. N respected me and gave me space to get myself together.  He didn’t get in my face or continue to try to touch me or talk. He didn’t hover over me. He got up and walked away.  Maybe I scared him. (I’d certainly scared myself.) Maybe he went to grab the phone to call the loony bin.  I don’t know.  But I felt very grateful that he had LISTENED to me when I told him to leave me alone. I wish I could express what that meant to me. Because he listened, I knew I could trust him.

Of course, when I had recovered from my horrible display, I was mortified. I went and hid in the restroom because I was closer to it than the exit.  I could never show my face in class again.  Everyone had seen me and everyone had heard me.  I was a freaking nut job.  I couldn’t face my instructors or Mrs. N or Mr. N or anyone---I decided I’d leave and never, never come back.  I was trying to figure out how I was going to get out of the building without anyone seeing me (an impossibility given that the restroom was on the far end from the building’s exit) when a young female instructor walked into the restroom.  Her name is Ms. Lisa Strader.  With genuine concern, she asked if I was okay.  I told her I was horribly embarrassed and apologized for my actions and told her I wouldn’t be coming back. This young lady, all of 17 years old, hugged me and spoke words that I have never forgotten, and absolutely clung to in hard times.  She looked me in the eye and said: “It’s going to be okay. We’re a family and you’re safe with us.”

There.  Now you have my start (and a fit) in Meridian ATA Martial Arts. I’ve come a long way.  These people, my ATA family, have been so patient with me.  So loving. So encouraging. I’ll post more of their awesomeness soon, because this story is only beginning.

Car Schooling: Les Miserables Edition

I love it when people find out I homeschool and assume that I’m actually home with my kids all day long, every single day.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  I mean, sure, I’m with my kids A LOT, but we are rarely just sitting around at home.
Take today for example---we got up late, went for donuts (a birthday tradition—my oldest just turned 13), swung by the eye doctor to pick up four new sets of glasses (stupid eyeball genes---sorry, kids!), ran to book club, went to piano lessons, and followed that with dance lessons.  We spent a LOT of time in the car. 
I was feeling guilty about it because we hadn’t gotten to any of the paper school work that I had planned: spelling tests, math review, research for oral reports on Central and South America (due tomorrow!) But then I realized how much the kids had been learning as we rocketed from place to place.
As we headed out to Krispy Kreme this morning, I turned on the new Les Miserables soundtrack. I hadn’t intended to turn it into a lesson for the kids---I had just been tagged by a friend on Facebook regarding this Grumpy Cat meme—and wanted to listen to that section of the opening sequence so I could laugh at it:

After I imagined Grumpy Cat speaking in Russell Crowe’s “Javert” voice, the kids wanted to know why I was laughing hysterically.  I explained, but they hadn’t seen the meme and didn’t really get it.  Nevertheless, Calvin commented that he really liked the opening sequence on the soundtrack, and one thing led to another---I was telling the story of Les Mis as we listened to the entire album.  I paused it in places to explain what was going on, or what the lyrics meant. 
The kids really got into it—we talked about everything from the themes in the story: justice vs. mercy, redemption, forgiveness, endurance, optimism, fear, etc., to literary things: rhyme, foreshadowing, the hero’s journey, and character archetypes.
We talked about music: instrument choice in songs, lyrics and poetry, rhythm, moods, major/minor transitions, singing voices, emotion, tempo, patterns, melody, themes, and anthems.
We talked about French history, language, and culture.  We talked about social problems and drew parallels between the struggles of the characters in Les Mis and people of today---we discussed social stigma, socioeconomic disparities, survivor guilt, monarchies and other forms of government, and more. 
By the end of our running around in the car---we had finished the soundtrack and talked about so much! The kids are beginning to see why I love the latest film version of Les Miserables—as well as the unabridged book, published by Signet Classics.  The kids had made all kinds of connections between Victor Hugo’s epic story and their own lives and the world around them. 
Today illustrates one of the beauties of homeschooling---learning anywhere you go, as you go.  In the car, my kids got some seriously in depth language arts, history, geography, social studies, and music lessons.  They also had a chance to form questions, hypotheses, and practice their observation skills—so they got a science class as well.  It wasn’t even PLANNED—the lessons just happened, and they were profound learning experiences for all of us.
I can’t wait to do it again!

Almost Alice

I love Alice in Wonderland.  I was fascinated and a little horrified by the Disney film as a child.  I had to write a report on Lewis Carroll in college and I was so intrigued by the Alice books, even though they didn’t make much sense to me until I picked up The Annotated Alice.  Ever since then, I’ve been a little obsessed with the zaniness of Wonderland…and it shows in my penchant for garish colors, flamingoes, and Tim Burton films.

But—that aside, I’ve been bored and a little burnt out since Christmas came and went.  I need a party. I need some kookiness to stave off the blahs.  Since Harry Potter month was such a huge hit with the kids back in October, I’ve decided to do an Alice month in May. 
I’m already gathering stuff to decorate the house and for various activities.  Oh, and prepping myself.  Since there’s a bit of chess in the Alice books, I thought it was about time I learned how to play. This is significant, because I have always avoided chess because it scared me. Only the math nerds in school played chess.  And even though I was a nerd, I was not a MATH nerd. 

My kids enjoy chess, which is great, but I have no idea how they even learned—but they can hold their own against other people who know how to play.  Calvin once tried to teach me but I got frustrated, and howled like a five year old when I lost. “I HATE THIS GAME, I’M NOT PLAYING ANYMORE!”  I may or may not have shoved the table, causing the board and pieces to fly every which way. 
This time around, Calvin has provided a cheat sheet for me, which has been more helpful than any of the chess books (for kids or adults) I’ve ever read.  I know there’s a vast deal more to the game than this:

But, hey---baby steps, right? I’m still learning not to call the knight the “horse.”
Back to our Alice in Wonderland month---I’m trying to come up with ideas to implement—maybe one activity or recipe a day—with a big Mad Hatter/Unbirthday/Red Queen Tea Party at the end, complete with costumes, herbal tea, and flamingo croquet. Here are my ideas so far:
1.Make a giant chess set  (made out of soda and water bottles—we’re saving them already!)

2. Poem memorization and art work. What DOES a Jabberwocky look like, anyway?
Oh. THAT’S what it looks like.  Ew.  Cool!
3. Riddles. My kids love riddles—and the classic “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” is only the beginning…
4. Botany—I always loved the scene in the Disney movie where the flowers sing—and since we’ll be coming up on springtime and planting time, I figure it’ll give me an excuse to splurge on some fun annuals like snap dragons, pansies, and zinnias.

Oh, and I just found this picture---I think I love it.  Cute, and slightly creepy. Zombie flowers, hahahahaha! (Okay, I am having WAY, WAY too much fun with this!)

5. Flamingo Croquet—I got the idea from Pinterest—we’ll see how it goes!

I saw another one of these sets that had pink feathers glued onto the handles.  Hmmm….how into this do I want to get?  (VERY!)
6. a little kitchen chemistry for the “eat me” and “drink me” goodies that Alice consumes.
7. lock picking.  Seriously.  Gotta get through those little doors (and learn a valuable skill to avoid getting locked out of the house or car---or start up your own robbery operation!)
8. Cake decorating.  Why not? Who doesn’t love an excuse to play with cake and sugar?

9. Movie nights---there are several Alice films---it would be great to watch them and compare and contrast---also, a little film history can be thrown in!
10. Read the Alice books, or excerpts of them, anyway.  They are a bit hard to follow because they were written over a century ago for a very specific audience---so the inside jokes would be largely over the heads of the kids (we’ll supplement with The Annotated Alice)
11. Learn about Lewis Carroll and the Victorian era, including the British monarchy. 

These are just the ideas off the top of my head.  I need to keep reading to see what other fun stuff I can dig up.  Stay tuned….