Will the real puritans please stand up, please stand up

So, Turkey Day is creeping up on us.

Since having children over the age of 4, I've had real issues with Thanksgiving. When the concept of celebrating Thanksgiving was my own private inner conflict, I didn't have to put my feelings into words and could be content to stuff myself with turkey and stuffing and consider the day a pre-race meal for the Black Friday marathon.

Once I had a kid in school and the feathered headbands and paper bag vests started coming home, I began struggling with my issues. The issues being so complicated and controversial (and completely contrary to what The Teachers, Gods and Goddesses of All Knowledge in my dear son's eyes, were teaching,) I swallowed my objections and figured that something like this should be tackled when the children were much more mature. Because you don't. contradict. teachers.

But hey - guess what? I am the teacher now!
And guess what else? I forgot to take the time to put my feelings into words!

Here's the thing. I have some Native American blood.
Now, I've never really identified with that part of my heritage. Not only is it a smaller piece of my ancestry, but the Swedish and Irish pieces have been kind enough to pass down recipes for comfort food and alcohol. There's no contest.
I'm an American mutt who simply doesn't know very much about the places and cultures of her ancestors. But I do know what I like to eat and drink. And I also know that my Native American blood is Iroquois, and the Iroquois weren't exactly friends of the Wampanoag themselves, so who am I to talk?

The husband's family, on the other hand, is a lot more Native American than I am. At least, they identify with that history more than I do, which is very nice. Especially the part that makes the husband all bronzed and ethnic-looking in the summer. Mm.
Plus, to the best of my knowledge, the tribes of my in-laws had no beef with the Native Americans of the Thanksgiving story.

And here comes the day when my one little, two little, three (and four) little Indians expect to celebrate a meal between corn farmers and the white people who were so grateful for their new friends. Uh huh.

Fortunately, my 10 year old is used to me. After watching an assigned video on the first Thanksgiving, he barely flinched when I casually told him it was a romanticized story about a meal between Chosen Ones and the savages where the Chosen Ones' butts were once again saved by the savages, who would be rewarded with casinos. And, fortunately, he found the concept intriguing, because he knows such a comment will be followed by required reading and discussion.

Which means I need to come up with some required reading and points of discussion. On a topic I've been happy to dance around for years. Which means I will be giving thanks for the internet this Turkey Day.

I managed to find a lesson plan with a forward by a Native American historian, who is also a public school teacher. Jackpot!

This plan includes adult level material (complete with bibliography) as well as child-friendly information that can be adapted to all levels. While H and M learn more about the Wampanoag and their wigwams, I'm looking forward to discussing the speech given on behalf of the Wampanoag on the 350th anniversary of the pilgrims' arrival with J.

Whether or not you're a homeschooler, if you're interested in exploring the history of Turkey Day with your children, or just curious yourself, the above link is very interesting. Complete with Native American prayer, history of corn, and corn husk craft project, it's not presented nearly as intense as the introduction I presented to my poor son, lol, but it does shed some light on a few of the issues most schools gloss over in their history lessons.

And now to decide between regular stuffing and sausage stuffing while scouring the leaked Black Friday ads...

My political secret

I'm on pins and needles today.

The husband was up at an ungodly hour, waking the dogs, the baby and little ol' me. Usually, I'm able to go straight back to dreamland once he's gone, but not today. Today's too big and important. My tummy is too queasy, my mind is racing too quickly, and my heart is in my throat.

I can't imagine a single person in my life who would be surprised to discover that I'm an Obama supporter. I am. I want him to win. I need him to win. But many people in my life will probably be surprised to learn why.




I'm going to quit being a democrat.





Barack Obama is the change I need. The change I am hoping will bring me the confidence to take the leap and officially go rogue. Though, now I'm pissed that the word conjures up images of a red suit and glasses. (And that sentence conjures up images of Santa Clause with a machine gun in my head. Hm.)

Okay, maybe that's not entirely true. I suppose the incredible disappointment of a republican win could outrage me enough to take a flying leap to just about any other political affiliation. But flying leaps are much more reckless than simple leaps and I gave up on recklessness a few years ago.

The thing is, changing parties scares me. As an atheist (okay, agnostic by definition) I can only assume that the uncomfortable process is somewhat similar to seeking a new religious affiliation. That is, if there were 2 main religions with a smattering of other options that nobody pays attention to. Which I guess is kinda sorta the case around here when you boil it down. But, as an atheist (agnostic), I digress.

I don't fully identify with ANY party. The reality is, for the next four years, we are either going to have a Republican or Democrat in office. And the four years after that, and probably the four years after that, and possibly much, much longer. When I am forced to choose, I have to go democrat.

Honestly, I really am excited about this Democrat. Old white men have always kind of freaked me out, but that isn't a deciding point for me this time. Joe The Plumber and Joe Six-Pack and Joe Blow and Joe Shmoe can all kiss my butt. There's only one Joe I can truly relate to, and he hearts Obama, so it's all good.

My point is, I'm really not good with change, despite my incredible need for it right now. Obama is the stepping stone to change for me. The step I need, and the step in the direction I would like to see our country take. Because I was taught that America = freedom and, since becoming an inquisitive adult, I haven't felt the type of freedom I was taught to expect.

Someone very important to me once told me that a bit of aging and a bit of money would turn me into a Republican one day. At the time, the thought made me want to puke. A little farther down the line, I found myself wondering if it was true. Maybe it would have been when the Republican Party was a republican party.

I want smaller government, but neither candidate truly offers that. I want more personal freedom, but neither candidate truly offers that, either. Meanwhile, the points I disagree with when it comes to the "little" parties are specific issues. Issues that I am motivated to tackle within myself and within the parties. The basic principles of several fit very neatly into my heart and mind.

So I'm planning my plunge. I am preparing to do what I can to make sure people know that there are other options. An expanded version of "Just Vote", if you will. I have no desire to evangelize. I can't tell people what is right or wrong for them. But I can remind people that they need not be limited to the lesser of two evils. The lesser of THREE (or more) evils enables one to rank their priorities more accurately! ;-)

Right now, my guess is that intelligent voters are already aware that there is politics beyond the elephant and donkey. And I know that many already feel quite purple (or green, or whatever), but fear taking votes away from a "legitimate" candidate. What is a stay-at-home, homeschooling, free-thinking, passionate mom to do? Why, legitimize the existence of the minority and spur growth, of course!

Don't ask me exactly how I'm going to do that just yet. I'm still considering the points of the Libertarian Party, Green Party, and the multiple names of other libertarian groups. It may be hypocritical, but I'm ignoring the smaller splinter groups. Let's be real here. No matter how truly I believe I can change the world, my fabulosity does have its limits! Baby steps and baby changes, people.

I am realistic. I see a future where these parties are true contenders, but it is quite a way off, in my opinion. My intent is to make it my children's future. Because, dammit, they WILL NOT be the first generation to take a step back from their parents' success if I have anything to do with it.

I've got Barack's back for the next 8 years. He does give me hope. He does inspire me. And, no matter what happens tonight, he has proven that people are looking toward the horizon, searching for something big. And I can be a part of that.



In the meantime, I need to go attempt to concentrate on today's school lessons while fighting waves of nervous nausea. I also have to figure out how to address the conversation I had with my 5-year-old this morning:

M "Can we play computer games today?"
Me "Maybe after we get our work done. You know, today is a very exciting day."
M "Is it my gymnastics day?"
Me "No, that's tomorrow. Tonight, we find out who our new president will be!"
M- looking ticked "Oh. I thought it would be more exciting than that. I'll go brush my teeth."

Baby steps must start at home.

Snow day, snow what

I do not like snow. Choosing to live up high in the Pocono Mountains probably wasn't my smartest decision, but I don't really think about the downsides in May, June, July, August or September.
The rest of the year, I tend to be a miserable fool.

My due date with C was April 17th of last year. That weekend, we had a big snow storm.

Last week, we had flurries. Today, we have a couple inches of white crap, and no clue as to when it will stop.


















When J was still in "regular school", I was actually able to take some pleasure in snow days. They meant not having to bundle everyone up by 8am to drive to, then sit around waiting in, the bus stop parking lot. And we could do nothing but sit around, watching cartoons, drinking hot chocolate.



















Our exact location earned us even more snow days than the general student body. Our district is extremely large, square mile wise, and we live at the highest elevation for the area. Two miles down the mountain, it can be raining while we are snowed in. In fact, the husband just headed out to work and reported back that the main roads are fine, while the road ours branches off from is littered with 7 stuck vehicles. We have had lots of hot chocolate since moving here!
















Now I don't have a single child in "regular school." Our morning is just like every other morning. There's no real reason to avoid math, and no lack of reading material. We have no scheduled activities on Tuesdays. No legitimate reason to change our routine.




















Technically, I have the power to declare school canceled today, but that seems like such a silly thing to do. Instead, I think we'll have a "delayed opening" and a few mugs of hot chocolate before getting down to business.























If the wind manages to calm down, the kids are going to LOVE recess.

And since I'm annoyed about not being able to get really good pictures while it's still snowing, I'm going to post this one to make myself smile.

I may be dumb, but at least I'm not a dumb thief.

We live in what most people (including me) would consider the boonies and, I've got to tell you, Mayberry just doesn't exist. Despite living in the woods where there are more deer than people and every family could adopt their own bear if they like, we have our fair share of drunks, drug addicts, police chases, rapes, murders, crappy parents and jackass kids. Somehow, no matter how long the weekly police blotter, this environment has a way of lulling people into a false sense of security.

I'm somewhat active in my development. Most of my involvement revolves around rule-breakers, including punk-asses. I KNOW that people suck.

So why can't I ever bother to lock my car?

Last night, I couldn't sleep. Just after midnight, I headed downstairs to heat me up some leftover mac and cheese for a Colbert marathon. Standing in front of my kitchen window, I saw that the interior light was on in the husband's car. He and J had come home from their music lessons, juggling guitars and music books after 8, so it was pretty easy to assume that one of them (probably J) had left a door ajar.

Being after midnight, the husband didn't quite grasp what I was saying when I told him his light was on, so he walked over to the front door, checked the locks, and turned the porch light out. He wasn't exactly fully-functioning. When he realized what I had actually said, he went out and turned the car's light off, came in, and went to bed.

This morning, he went to get his laptop out of the car to do "paper"work. Isn't it funny how it's still called paperwork? It's too bad these things aren't done on paper anymore, b/c the laptop is gone. So is the backpack full of clothes the girls had taken to Grandma's this weekend.

Yup, we are idiots who almost never lock our cars. And it finally bit us in the ass.

So, we've been doing the report filing thing today. That's been fun. The company is trying to remember whether or not they kept the computer lojack service. I'm trying to get past the oogy feeling that comes with finding your little girls' underwear scattered in trees (along with the rest of their clothes).

But these punks are morons. Sure, they got a laptop. But they chose to grab a bright pink, giant backpack, rather than a computer bag that had an external hard drive in it, a digital camera, or CDs. Even stranger, they dumped the clothes and took the giant pink backpack with them. Because what punk-ass is complete without one of those?

Sadly, I feel a bit better knowing that several of my neighbors were also hit last night. At least I'm not the only idiot.

So, punk-asses, when I see you walking around with a giant pink backpack, be prepared for an ass kicking. I'm not afraid of anyone who would put a higher value on that than on a heavy computer bag. And I'm pissed about my kids' underwear. Do you have any idea how much Tinkerbell panties cost, you stupid freaks?

I'm also not afraid of jail. I've been craving a vacation.
And I'm training my dogs to think all strangers are the UPS man.
I used to watch wrestling.
Bring it.