Smrt Lernins

So, remember how we continued homeschooling while Babypie and Officer Daddyman were sick? Well, Daddyman recovered just in time to take over homeschooling when I was felled by the pukies on Wednesday morning. He did the school day on Wednesday and the short part of Thursday that’s remotely academic (we do extra-curricular activities then). Our week apparently ended yesterday, as the glory of the 48 hour incubation period laid Captain Science low at around 3 this morning — while he was spending the night at Nana and Papa’s house, so I could get a little extra rest (which didn’t happen anyway). Suffice it to say, our greatest scholastic achievement this week was accomplishing anything, just anything at all.

Math this week saw the completion of another set of cities in Life of Fred: Beginning Algebra and Fred’s Home Companion. I’m not sure where Professor Schmidt is getting the names for these cities or deciding on the order, but Captain Science completed Adrian, Sacramento, Elliot, Galt, Hannibal, and Raglan. He and Daddyman did some additional practice on one particular word problem set up that’s giving Captain S some grief (the two cars going at different speeds towards each other word problems) and I think the kid has figured it out.

Science went smoothly this week with the start of the unit on Volcanoes. Captain Science completed all but the mastery test, which he would have taken today, had he not woke up sick. I’ll be perfectly honest; I didn’t check the worksheets. However, as he was working, Captain Science brought the packet to me to point out one question was missing an answer (it was, having only a blank next to choice A), but that the missing answer was undoubtedly “explosive,” as that was the correct answer to the question (it was). I think this lesson was well absorbed.

Language arts leads us deeper into Essay Voyage, Caesar’s English II, and World of Poetry. Captain Science finished chapter 1 in Essay Voyage (each lesson is broken into multiple lessons; we do one a day) and wrote his first essay from a prompt. He actually chose the option of writing a detailed paragraph about an unusual animal, then rewriting it out of order, then writing an explanation of what makes a disorganized paragraph. Being a corner-cutter, Captain S first answered that in two sentences about how a disorganized paragraph is one that isn’t organized, and organize means not disorganized. *headdesk* His later effort was much better, however. He also completed pages 23-27 in Caesar’s English II, pages 23-32 in World of Poetry, and wrote two poems — on using consonance and alliteration, one using reversals (which I’ll post later, as it was quite good).

Captain Science read pages 42-63 in Aztec & Maya. Subjects this week included some of the famous cities of Mezoamerica and of a subject he wasn’t too fond of, human sacrifice. He thought it was pretty gross and disturbing, but hey, that’s history! We haven’t been doing any history-based writing, since he’s doing so much more writing in language arts right now, but once we move into the middle ages, I’ll start incorporating more writing into the assignments, especially as he begins reading period texts. I’m going to toss a little parallel translations of Canterbury Tales at him and see how he feels about middle vs. modern English.

Finally, Captain Science had his day of electives yesterday. He did another chapter of KidCoder, which he bombed horribly through a simple inability to actual read through the chapter. Perhaps it was a warning sign of his impending illness. Perhaps he cannot concentrate on that much text on a computer screen. Whatever the cause, the result was a garble of programming that didn’t actually program. The plan for next week is to print the chapter, have him read it through once, then work through the programming on the computer w/ the printed reference next to him, rather than on the screen. He’ll do this independently, to see if he can.

We also had our next to last full soccer practice yesterday. One more full practice and one half practice, half pizza party, remain. Both kids are loving it, though last night I received a dramatic phone call from Captain Science’s teenage coach’s mommy, letting me know that Captain S is rude and insubordinate and that I needed to “handle it at home.” Of course, neither mommy nor son could give me any details as to the rudeness, other than Captain Science took his shirt off two weeks ago when it was 90+ degrees out and that he supposedly said “You can’t make me” to his female teenage coach — unlikely, considering a) the coach was new this week and Captain S, unprompted, brought up how scary she was and how no one would think of crossing her and b) of all the sassy, rude things he says, “You can’t make me” isn’t his style. “That’s UNFAIR!” or “Why are you NAGGING me?” are his style. Even a, “No, I don’t want to.” But, “You can’t make me?” Really? The real gist of the phone call seemed to be that Captain Science’s partial disrobing made either the coach, his mom, or both uncomfortable, and that they needed an additional reason to call to complain about it. Of course, that boat sailed two weeks ago; I’d already asked Captain S to keep his shirt on to prevent sunburn. I’d have been happy to correct him for legitimate rudeness, but barring any real examples? I’ll just observe him at practice and correct him if I see it.

As for Tank, well…he and Officer Daddyman did something this week, but I was too sick and out of it to have any idea what it was. I think it involved coloring and blocks. I did observe a pyramid board game being played. They seemed to be having a good time.

Well, that’s our week. Off to tend my sickies.

You know, I hear a lot of nonsense from the anti-natural birth and anti-breastfeeding camps about how women don’t get medals for: giving birth without drugs, surviving the pain, giving birth at home, breastfeeding through difficulties, etc. The hell with all that; I never wanted or needed medals to do those things, because they were better for me and my babies. I didn’t need a plaque, trophy, or medal to reward me: our health and happiness was the reward.

Not everything is so inherently rewarding, however.

That overheating-related puking Tank experienced at Disney World? Yeah…might not have been solely overheating, as evidenced by the last 36 hours of illness that Babypie and Officer Daddyman have been experiencing. Could be two different puking viruses, as the incubation period seems awfully long and Babypie has been running a fever, whereas Tank (my fever-runner) did not, but it might be the same.

What I really wanted to do was call off homeschooling for another two days, since I’ve been holding and nursing a sickly baby, cleaning up said sickly baby, or washing clothes, sheets, and towels generated by that same sickly baby. I do not want to helpfully sit down with Captain Science and talk about Essay Town or correct his math or keep tabs on his time management. Because I’m made of awesome (well, because we took the previous week off for Disney World), we’ve been doing school work anyway. I’m not checking over his work with my usual vim, vigor, and haste, but we’re slowly plodding through it. Luckily, Tank has been more than happy to help me indulge Babypie in some Dinosaur Train after she threw up on her own feet and my clothes a second time.

You know what I want a medal for? THAT: Homeschooling with baby puke on my pants.

How come nobody ever says, “You don’t get a medal for homeschooling with baby puke on your pants?” when we homeschooling moms manage it anyway? Because THAT is actually quite hard and unrewarding, and getting a prize at the end would be really motivating.

I should also note that I started this post at 4pm, but Babypie puked on my feet, so it is only just now being posted.

If you’re going to puke at Disney World, Disney’s Hollywood Studios is apparently the place to do it.

We learned this after Tank vomited dramatically in the middle 4 o’clock performance of the Indiana Jones Stunt Spectacular. He’d been complaining of a tummy ache throughout the late morning and afternoon, but when that blast of heat from the exploding truck hit him, it was all over. I swiftly removed him from the show, cleaned him up in the next door restaurant’s bathroom, then watched in horror as he got sick all over the restaurant floor. He was rewarded with another sponge-down, a Sprite to sip on, and a fresh new Indiana Jones t-shirt. We figured he’d earned it.

The poor kid continued to ralph every 30-90 minutes, dozing in between, for the rest of the evening, managing to get tidily and quietly sick into an assortment of small, plastic Disney bags. We had reservations at the Hollywood Brown Derby (in Hollywood Studios) at 6:45 and were in a bit of a panic over what to do about the sleeping Tank, in his giant rented double stroller. Enter St. Alma.

Alma was the hostess at the Brown Derby that evening. She was a tiny, older woman with a dignified and commanding presence, who initially came out to tell us we could not park our stroller there (“there” being outside the Brown Derby, in a pathway that was used for wheelchair parking). Once Alma learned why were trying to get the stroller into the cool, shady spot, however, she immediate became our angel. She arranged for a table with space to park the humongous stroller and invited us to bring it inside and right up to the table. The Brown Derby is a nice restaurant — small, fancy portions of exceptional food on pristine white plates, with a decorative drizzle of sauce — and takes two deluxe dining plan credits (absolutely worth it, btw, sick kid or no sick kid). Whatever. Alma let us park our four-wheeled monstrosity up next to the table.

Alma fretted over Tank for the rest of dinner as though he were her own grandchild. She brought us some ice water for him to sip (with a Mickey Mouse curvy straw), encouraged us to put a cool cloth on him, constantly reassured us that it was FINE that our child was occasionally dry-heaving into a plastic bag in the middle of their restaurant, and sent the manager our way to check on us. The manager, Debbie (another Derby Angel), brought us a snapping cool-pack to help bring down his core temperature, since at that point it was pretty clear that the issue was a combination of overheating and dehydration, and brought him a white paper bag filled with metallic confetti (in Mickey ears and stars) and three light-up ice cubes. The paper bag was labeled “My Bag of Pixie Dust.” She said she thought it might make him feel better when he woke up and saw it. She was right; the puking didn’t stop, but morale definitely improved. Before we left, Alma and Debbie both came back by to check on Tank again and to make sure we knew where the first aid station was (where it was confirmed that he’d gotten dehydrated and overheated).

We’re writing letters to Disney praising Alma and Debbie, but I also wanted to share this story here, to encourage you to give the Brown Derby a try if you’re ever at Disney’s Hollywood Studios. I expected friendliness and happiness from Disney employees; it’s what they’re paid to offer. What I didn’t expect was the level of genuine human compassion and care we received at the Hollywood Brown Derby. It was a five star experience in every way.