Vampire Art and Other Stuff You Learn in School

I have a confession to make. I really love homeschooling. This surprises me, as before this year I mostly made fun of people who homeschooled. Psychos. I've seen the light, and now like Saul becoming Paul--I believe. I believe I love it. And this is why.

A few days ago, I was doing a history lesson with Parker. We were study this painting by Jan Van Eyck.

The next morning Parker told me, "I dreamed about that creepy, pale guy in the Van Eyck painting last night. He was a vampire. It was very scary. Let's not study Van Eyck anymore."

Reason 1: More educated nightmares.

Today Parker was learning about Martin Luther. He was supposed to draw a picture to illustrate what happened to Martin Luther in Worms, Germany. If you are unfamiliar with this historical event, Martin Luther was summoned to Worms to denounce what he was preaching against the Catholic church, specifically his 95 Theses. He refused, and the Pope banned him from the Catholic church.

Parker drew a picture of the pope saying, "Eat worms!" Martin Luther is next to him proclaiming, "Hey--I'm not a spider." Then the pope has a thought bubble that reads, "But you are a pest."

I loved it! Parker understood more than the facts relating to history; he understood the attitude.

Reason #2: People with attitudes like learning with an attitude.

Now Parker is reading over my shoulder explaining that a special meeting is called a "diet." So if Martin Luther went to Worms he had a "diet of Worms."

"Write that, mom. It makes it funnier," Parker explains.

"I think it should be explained, not explains," Parker further explains. "I taught mom a lesson in grammar."

Reason #3: Refer to Reason #2.

Dinner and a Show

Picture this dinnertime scene. Deacon is standing up in his chair, wearing nothing but a pair of Parker's undies. They are very baggy. He has pulled the underpants up, so they are resting comfortably at nipple level. He has drawn a black line under his nose with a marker, and it resembles a small Charlie Chaplin mustache. He raises his hand.

"Yes, Deacon," Chris says.

"Umm, I need," he starts, and places one of his hands down the back of his loose underwear and proceeds to scratch, "I need to show you something pretty."

"O.k."

"This!" And he thrusts out his bum-scratching hand for all to see.

Beautiful.

Deacon Days

I've been getting grief about not posting for awhile. There is a reason for this. Life has been full of the everyday, normal, non-exciting stuff. Since we might be waiting awhile for something blog-worthy to happen, here is an update on my most exciting and crazy child.

Deacon has managed to stay alive, and I have managed to stay sane (mostly) parenting him. Yesterday, there was a knock on the door. I opened it and was surprised at the person standing there. That person was Deacon. I had yet to discover he was missing. I did learn he can open the door to the garage. Once in the garage, he simply needs to crawl under the garage door that I had left cracked open for the cat, and then--freedom. I'm glad he came home this time. Last week when he went missing he was at the park. He has also survived this past week burning his fingers when he successfully figured out how to light a match; burning his fingers when he wanted to touch a light bulb in the lamp; breaking a lamp; removing protective covers from outlets, assorted bumps and bruises from jumping off things not meant to be jumped off; scissors removed from his hands several times a day, etc., etc. In the last five minutes the following events have occurred:

Deacon walking up to me with McKay's purse around his neck. Pointing to the purse, "I need a sandwich and a banana in here."

I threw some corn dogs in the oven, but apparently that's not fast enough for him. He's pushed a chair over to the toaster oven and is trying to figure out how to operate it.

So pretty normal stuff here. Someday something more exciting than Deacon taking off his shoes in church and throwing them across the chapel will occur, but until then, it's same old, same old at the Davis house.

Potty Humor

In an age of too much information, I am about to share a story that I probably shouldn't. Also, I would like to share a story once in awhile that doesn't revolve around potty-training, but, sadly, this is my life. I have no other stories.

Today, I am happily talking to my sister on the phone while folding laundry. My peace is interrupted by the entrance of Deacon, completely naked, holding something out to me in his hand. Automatically I reach for his offering. Luckily, my brain's sense of self-preservation kicks in three seconds before I grab the object, and I realize--Deacon is holding poop in his hand.

I quickly clean my child up. Pondering what other "treasures" might await me elsewhere in the house, I ask, "Where did you poop at?"

Deacon looks at me like I'm an idiot, and then slowly points to his bottom.

Field Trip

My preschool co-op that I do with McKay does monthly field trips. Another mommy planned this one to the Farmstead. I thought it was just a corn maze. But it turned out to be filled with all sorts of fall/farm themed outdoor fun. We started out with a hayride. Parker loudly proclaimed that he was an expert at hayrides because he got to do them all the time at his grandpa's farm. That statement was amended by, "Well, it's been two years, but still...." He was also knew all about ponies, because he had one once, though perhaps it was kept at his grandpa's house. This was followed by, "Look, it's a bull!"

I replied, "Actually that's a steer."

"How do you know?"

"I'll explain that to you later."

At which point another mom said, "I think it's because it doesn't have any horns."

Who knew field trips could be both fun and educational?

Homeschooling or Something Like It

Question: How has teaching Parker at home this year been going?

Answer: Great!---as long as you don't mind Toaster Strudel in your bathtub.

Pros:

• The IDVA (Idaho Virtual Academy) curriculum is far superior to that taught in public school. I have taught in public school, and there is no contest on this one.
• Going to school in your pajamas. Parker is most definitely not a morning person. I love, love, love not fighting him all morning to get up, get dressed, brush his teeth, etc.
• No homework! Yet our whole family is way more involved in Parker's education. Tonight Parker and Chris dissected a fish together, identifying all of its body parts. (Chris took one for the team and took the day off work to catch said fish.)
• I love learning alongside Parker. Parker and I were having a conversation about Dante and Botticelli. "How do you know all this?" Chris asked, amazed. Ha! I may have never saved anything on a flash drive in my entire life, but I know a little something about third grade history.
• I know exactly how Parker's doing in school.
• Parker is speaking German. Granted he mostly goes around the house saying, "And what is that? That is dirt." But I'm hoping he branches out eventually.
• Parker is happier.

Cons:

• My house is messy. Really messy. Teaching takes a lot of time. So much time that I'm not getting my house cleaned top to bottom each week. Which is why I gave Parker the day off last Friday and cleaned my house. During this cleaning I discovered something in the kids' bathtub. That something was a Toaster Strudel. As I have yet to multi-task breakfast and baths, I'm unsure of how that Toaster Strudel made its way up the stairs and into the tub.
• Parker teasing his siblings all day.
• Me yelling at Parker all day to stop teasing his siblings.
• My time spent calling my sisters and mom, blogging, napping, lying around reading books, and making brownies has (sadly) greatly diminished.

Question: Now that you've written a post about this will you stop talking non-stop about IDVA when I call you on the phone or come visit you?

Answer: No guarantees. Though I'm trying to be less obsessive and find other things to talk about. (Apologies to Brigette, Jenna, Aleisha, and anyone else that I have talked about IDVA for more than an hour straight.)

Dreaming

This morning I woke up at 5:45, because I had a weird dream. It was not as weird as the dream I had last week. I told Chris about it when he woke up.

Me: "I was very mad at you in my dream last night."

Chris: "Not again."

Me: "We were in Idaho Falls touring a US Mint. There were coins laying all over the place, and you were allowed to pick them up and put them in your pocket. Then when you got done with the tour, it became like Chuck E. Cheese's."

Chris: "That makes sense."

Me: "You exchanged your coins for a little piece of paper that said how much money you'd earned. Then you took your paper to the prize counter and got a prize."

Chris: "Obviously."

Me: "So when we got done with the tour I had $500 in coins. The worker people weren't sure if they could give me that much prize money since most people only had about $10."

Chris: "Were your pockets bursting at the seams?"

Me: "No, and that's besides the point. So I'm standing at the prize counter, deciding that I will forfeit most of my winnings in exchange for a pizza. Suddenly, you come up and say you've talked to the manager. I can keep all my money, because you've donated it to charity. At this point I become livid."

Chris: "Because I did something nice?"

Me: "Because I really wanted a pizza! And you'd donated all my pizza money!!!"

Chris: "Um, I sorry for trying to do the right thing in your dream."

Me: "I never got my pizza!!!!"

Chris: "I hate it when my real self gets in trouble for things that my dream self did. If I buy you a pizza will you stop being mad at me?"

Me: "Deal."

So this morning after my weird dream, I tried to lay back in bed and fix it in my mind. The fix wouldn't take. So I got up and went to Walmart to do my grocery shopping. McKay was awake, and she didn't want to stay home with the sleeping boys, so she came with me. Her hair was sticking up in a million directions. I considered combing it, but I was too lazy. Ducky followed me around the store trying to get me to buy goat's milk and asking me my opinion on Bigfoot. McKay told me she didn't like it when Ducky follows us around the store.

Chris came home at the end of the day and announced, "I have had the greatest day. How was your day?"

I answered, "I cleaned poo off the floor and tried to learn how to ride a ripstik."

Moral of this story: A weird dream is an omen to a weird day.