What's Up, Chupp?

Cindy Chupp, that's me! Wondering where I've been? We've had a LOT going on around here. Here's a taste:

Basketball season!

Snow...the first of the season for us!

Decimals and place value in math

Fairy Tales - intense planning! More to come...

Starts tomorrow! Don't miss it! All my products on sale.

TPT Sale Includes New Products:

Flap Books - mutiplying & dividing by powers of 10. More details tomorrow!

Oregon Trail Reader's Theatre

Whew! So what have YOU been up to?

Picturing 5,000!

Nana ordered new meal worms to feed the wild bluebirds. Someone was captivated with the total.

"One, two, three, four,..."

Staying Alive...with Real Life Math Stories

I like to "collect" math stories. From real life. Over the years I've amassed some good ones (including the one about the clerk who needed a calculator to compute 20-12!) but this last week one struck me...or perhaps "stuck" me.

I've started allergy shots again...something I've done repeatedly over my lifetime. I've never experienced anything more than a little localized reaction and since I've been on shots since May, I didn't really expect much at a recent injection.

But you need some numbers:
With each new bottle of serum, I start with a tiny amount, .1ml, and then move up to .2, then .3...each time going up by .1 until I reach .5 and then begin a new bottle with a stronger concentration. Last week, I received my second injection from the newest bottle, or .2ml. Tiny amount, right? Much less than those biggies at .4 or .5. Insignificant, really.

Hardly. Within 45 minutes of my shot I was in full allergy attack: sneezing, coughing, itchy throat, runny nose, and the scariest...wheezing, with air passages closing. To make a scary story short, I followed protocol and recovered.

But here's the math part...

I saw the allergy nurse this week and reflected on how odd the experience was. It was such a tiny amount: only .2ml. Ah, she said...that's what she used to think, too. Until someone pointed out that something significant happens during the .2ml shot. Can you figure it out? Again, I always get injections in this order:

.1ml
.2ml
.3ml
.4ml
.5ml

What's significant about the  .2 injection? Mathematical minds want to know... Leave your comments below.

P.S. This is a reminder to collect "real life" stories like this to share with kids. Make it real! (But perhaps not THIS real!) :)

P.P.S. School starts up for me this week. Big Math Monday Blog Hop announcement on Monday!

Curriculum Sale Crazy!!! (The Top 10 Indicators)

How do you know that you need intervention are addicted to curriculum sales?

Top 10 Signs You Are Curriculum Sale Crazy
...counting down from #10:

10. Your 1000s of books are deemed inadequate to properly school your [one?] child.

Just one section. Of just the picture books. Sigh.

9. You buy books for a grade level that you won't likely teach next year.

8. You buy books for a subject you won't likely teach next year.

7. You are seriously considering putting your 2.5 file cabinets (10 packed drawers) on Atkins.

6. The following locations are FULL and have no additional free space for curriculum, manipulatives, children's books, or ANYTHING  ELSE:

• schoolroom
• livingroom
• closets
• bedrooms
• bathrooms
• garage
• barn

5. Returning from curriculum sales, you wrap the goods in a plain, brown paper bag--or bag(S) as the case may be--sneak in, and stash them. Wherever there's room. See #6.

4. You have 3 or 4 copies of certain math-related children's books. Cause you might need multiples.

Recent Finds!

3. You snag OTHER PEOPLE'S curriculum lists to take shopping.

2. You attend THREE different sales in less than 10 days time. All because of #10.

1. Curriculum sales are your FAVORITE form of aerobic exercise LEISURE ACTIVITY.

So something like this *might* happen:

Your daughter graduates Friday night. You're up late. You get up at 5am Saturday to get ready for her grad party that starts at 2pm. Mid-morning, you get in the car. Drive 45 minutes to a curriculum sale. Shop 20ish tables in ~ an hour. Drive 45 minutes back. And return in time to host 70+ people from 2-10pm.

Like to confess your own curriculum sale addiction? Leave a comment.


P.S. In case you don't know what Curriculum Sales are:
In our area we have used curriculum sales put on by the homeschool community in which you can get insanely great stuff. Cheap. As an example, I passed up a stack of Big Books marked at 50 cents each. Last year I filled a box--for about $5--with books and curriculum to study our state (a teacher was selling all her 4th grade materials) and she still had 3 or more tables left of state-related stuff after I was finished.

Graduation Reflections

My daughter graduates from high school this week.

[Weep, cry, SOB!!!!] Sorry...I'll try to keep it under wraps for the rest of this post.

I've been reflecting on the last 13 years of my daughter's education. I learned a few things in that 13 years:

• even if you've already packed a note for your child in his backpack, check the corner before you leave the house. Just sayin'.
• if you can't tell the difference between your high schooler's room and the inside of a dumpster, SHUT. THE. DOOR.
• AP stands for "aggravated parent"
• snuggling on the couch with kids and a good book is memory making material.

And this biggie:

Homeschooling is the best thing for some kids. Public (or private) schooling is the best thing for some kids. And a combination of both is the best thing for others.

This child went to public school kindergarten. Then spent 1st-7th at home. Then spend 8th-12th in public school. I know some people worry about transitioning kids from homeschool to public. But here's the thing...a good education is a good education, no matter where you get it.

She is so ready for the world. And her momma is so not ready to send her off (...or to make the food and decorations for the upcoming grad party, hence the lack of posts you might see this week.)

I'm feeling mighty respectful of the educational decisions that individual families make for their kids. The decisions we've made have been hard. (Still making them as we try to decide which youngers are doing what for school next year.) But, at least this time, we got it right.

Feeling mighty thankful.

My Cup Runneth Over...or How Do I Catch All That WATER!??

I am the only one?

I feel pulled in a million directions at once.

I value every single person...every single project...on my list and am having a hard time getting it all done.

Like what, you ask?

Got a kid graduating. Don't want to miss a minute of her last year at home.

A HUGE series of consulting jobs on my "real job" plate. (And the squeaky wheel that pays money does get more grease.)

Another kid finishing basketball who wants Mom there to cheer him on. With two kids in basketball this winter, I've been to a lot of games!

Recently finished lesson plans that are SO. GREAT. and need to be written up to share.

Another kid, in kindergarten half the day; the other half of the day I always know where he is because I follow the path of projects he makes All. Day. Long. When my sister was here on Saturday we played one game. By the end of the game, boxes and other recycled items were taped into assorted stacks around the table; you could see where my son had been by looking at the trail.  If he was added to the picture above, you wouldn't be able to see me at the desk because his recycled projects would cover every available surface. (All this to say that my house is ALWAYS in a severe state of clutter...and 9/10ths of it comes from one very busy little body!)

I want to write my blog.

Shoot, I want to write anything.

Although I love the posts on PBH for Grown-ups, I feel like I have the opposite problem from this:

“Whatever it is you want to do, you need to stop pacing back and forth on the diving board and just jump in the damn water. Getting wet is going to teach you a lot more than all the thinking you’re doing on dry land.” (from PBH for Grown-ups)

I am immensely grateful for endless interests. For many people around to love. For work that not only pays me but inspires me. My cup truly runneth over.

But sometimes I just feel overwhelmed while trying to catch all that beautiful water. Beautiful, inspirational, loving, life-giving water.

Not complaining. Just vocalizing in case anyone else feels the same way.

Back to the fountain...

Slugfest

Here's a slug math problem for ya...

   84 slugs found by our neighbor in his garden this morning (which borders our garden)
+183 slugs found by my son and husband tonight in our garden
______________

what does that equal??? (I accept creative answers!)

Rainbow Times Two

Wish I could have captured the whole thing. A magnificent, bright rainbow. Times two.

Is This Disturbing? (Math is Everywhere!)

Not long ago, my 8yo told me that when he can't sleep at night he watches the clock to find math problems. In the kitchen today he pointed out what he meant. "Look Mom! 10-4=6!" I wonder if I should be concerned??? :)

Do your kids find math in odd places?

On another note, he made his own lesson extension on doubling. He said he wanted to earn money and I should let him do a problem to see if 5 cents a day doubled for a week is more than $3. I laughed. He did it anyway. And proceeded to ask me for $6.35. I laughed some more.


Check out more math links at the Math Monday Blog Hop.

Weekly Wrap-Up: Math Snap Cubes and Peds Dentists

Thought it'd be fun to do a Weekly Wrap-Up for a change...

The academic highlights of our week were probably our math lessons with snap cubes:

• Exploring Growing Patterns with Snap Cubes

• Sea Squares and Snap Cubes

• Snap Cubes: Odd & Even Patterns

I've got a few more math lessons from this week to share. I'll get them up soon.

But I have another eventful experience to share from the week...! At my youngest son's last (and first for him!) dentist appointment, we learned that he had three cavities. Bummer. He's been home from China for less than two years and definitely has some anxieties about medical treatments, so even for the dental cleaning I ended up holding him on my lap. Well, not exactly my lap. Basically, I held him while they tilted us both back so that we lay down in the chair, with him sprawled down my front. A bit awkward. And not something I thought we could maintain through a bunch of fillings. So, I decided to try a pediatric dentist.

And learned that I was totally ripped off as a child.

The place is amazing. Toys everywhere. Themed rooms. Feels more like an amusement park than a dentist office. And the treatment...  As we enter, they say, "Would you rather smell strawberries or marshmallows?" So he gets marshmallow gas. As the marshmallows make him good and relaxed, he gets strawberry numbing stuff in his mouth. When they give him a mouthful of shots, he never sees the needle because he's watching the movie on the screen above. He had his pick from dozens of flicks. Then, in between treatment steps, he gets a popsicle stuck in his mouth. And a flashing fairy wand and Diego backpack as prizes.

We were soooo deprived as children.

I would have thought this alternative treatment environment would cost a fortune. But it seems to be right in line with regular dental care around here.

Who knew.

I'd like a popsicle at the dentist's office.

Want a glimpse into other homeschool lives? Visit Weird, Unsocialized Homeschooler's Weekly Wrap-Up.

Thanks, IKEA Guy!...a Homeschool Remodel Adventure

After 10 years of homeschooling and 14 years in this house, we are remodeling our "schoolroom." I spent some time on the IKEA website yesterday afternoon and found a few things I wanted. So dh and I headed out for an IKEA date night. Join me on the journey...

7:15 Arrival. At the top of my list is a metal door cover I'd seen on the website. In the description it said it could work as a magnetic board. We make a pass through the maze that is IKEA and finally ask a salesperson for help.

7:25 In kitchens..."We're looking for the metal door covers that we saw on the website. Can you point us in the right direction?"

Saleswoman looks at me like I'm from planet homeschooler. "We don't carry anything like that."

"But I saw it on the website this afternoon."

"No, nothing like that here. It'd have to be brand-new for me to not know about it."

We keep looking, continuing through the maze.  We find a salesman who scratches his head. "There are some smaller magnetic boards in organization, but nothing big like that." Since we're standing IN organization, we take another run through, give up, and head back upstairs.

Salesperson #3...or is it #4..."Nope."

Crazy homeschool lady..."But I saw it on the website this afternoon. It said it was IN STOCK for this location."

Salesperson #umpteenthousandandone..."Nope."

It's now 8:42ish. (Time flies when you're having fun.) We've trecked through IKEA 10 times, uphill both ways and in the snow. We find a computer "self search" machine. Enter "magnetic board." Zero results. Enter "magnetic." Get a list of hits that INCLUDE THE PHRASE "magnetic board." Mine isn't there.

8:50 Find a salesman near the stock/EXIT area. Tell him our long, sordid story. He looks on the "self search" machine. Unbelievably, HE GETS THE SAME RESULTS AS US. (Pound head into large metal--perhaps magnetic?--object!) Yet, there is hope. This man finds a computer with internet access. Attempts to get on. Learns that since he's only been an employee for two weeks that he NEEDS A PASSWORD. Waits for assistance to access internet. Waits. Waits some more. Another guy comes to help. He doesn't have a password either. We look at the first employee. He shrugs. "He was hired the same time I was."

8:58 With new help, salesman finally accesses IKEA website. I immediately direct him to the magnetic door panels. He enters the stock number into the "self search" machine. We all peer at the "location in store" box. What does it say?

"Consult sales personnel." 

(Attempt to drive large metal--perhaps magnetic?--object into temple.)

9:00 Across the loudspeaker: "IKEA is now closing."

9:01 Salesman says he has no idea where to find the item...although he does note that the computer indicates that 31 of them are available at this location. (Note to IKEA...the reason you have 31 of this item is that NO ONE ON YOUR STAFF KNOWS WHERE THEY ARE!)

9:02 Salesman says his best guess is that the item is warehoused at another location and that you make the purchase here before picking it up there.

9:03 I ask how you're supposed to make a purchase, sight unseen.

9:04 Salesman tells us to try kitchens. (Note: Go back and read 7:25.)

9:06 We fly through the lower floor and return back upstairs to kitchens. On the way we desperately call out to a couple salespeople chatting..."Kitchens? Metal door panels?"

"That way!!!" they yell.

9:08 We find a miniature display version of the door panel. Reject it. (If we'd actually wanted it, I'm not at all sure that they could have found it!)

9:10 Head to checkout with a few purchases.

9:13 Walk out the door as they're turning off the lights.

Moral of the story? Please let me know.

Hopefully, I'll have a remodeled room to show you in a month or so. Maybe. If IKEA isn't involved.

AUGH!!!!!

P.S. But dh notes, "Yeah, but we had fun together!!!" True story. ;)

P.P.S. The thanks goes to the IKEA guy who finally got us on the website!!!! Otherwise, we might still be there.

Zero-Waste Living...a very cool video

This is way off my usual posts, but we're still recovering from illness, I've been working, and our routine is only beginning to return to normal... 

So in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fascinating video, in which a family downsizes and lives a zero-waste style of living. It's amazing. I'm envious!

(Deep, deep down, I'd really like to live with The Waltons!) :)

What Are We Measuring?

Temperatures.

Ours.

Four of us have been sick this week. Hopefully we'll be back to measuring something more fun...SOON! :)

Now off to measure some Vitamin D...

Weekly Wrap-Up: The Skunk Report (+I Spy Art, Measurement + Lit)

I'll get right to the point. It's been an exciting week filled with learning, love, laughter and...an odor...a little less than lovely.

When we woke up this morning, our house smelled like SKUNK. Now, living in the country, that does occasionally happen. But when I opened the door to the outside porch, the odor was unusually strong. One look at the CAT told me why. 

See the lovely streak of yellow running up her leg? Apparently, skunks spray a yellow oil. That, my dear readers, is the source of the horrendous odor. Let me put it this way...when my 16yo daughter stuck her nose out the back door she said, "It smells so bad that you can't even tell it's a skunk smell anymore."

With outside temperatures currently at freezing, it's not a very opportune time to give an OUTSIDE cat a bath. (For that matter, when is it EVER time to give an outside cat a bath??)

My 8yo son just said, "Don't put that [picture] on there! It's MEAN!" But even meaner? The cat's now adult children, her usual cold-weather snuggling companions, seem to be shunning her. And who'd blame them.

Smelly cats...isn't there an educational opportunity in here somewhere???

When we weren't contemplating skunks this week, we:

*did some I SPY artwork with shapes

*considered how big Mommy's feet are and did some estimating and measuring with her "feet"

*read about giants and estimated and measured with giant feet

*measured with tile and headstrings

*considered whether a candy bar coupon was a good deal

If you'd like to share about your week, or give me smelly outdoor cat advice, please comment! :)

You Need What????

My 8yo runs in from playing outside. "Mom! We need something this big!" He holds out his hands. I have no idea what "something" is or why it has to be "this big."

"What for?"

"We're building something to help us catch a RACCOON!"


P.S. The most this trap is going to catch is a little boy's imagination! ;) 

Outcome of "What Would You Do?"

First, much thanks for all your ideas, experiences and advice! This was a tough one for me, mostly because it has the potential to open up all kind of old wounds. But this time* I had a "smart mommy moment." (*the rarity of these moments make them all the more valuable!) To follow the story you'll need to know my abbreviations:

DS4 = my youngest son, age 4
DS8 = my middle son, age 8
DS14 = my oldest son, age 14

I contemplated. Hmmm.  What's my trump card? Well, DS8 basically wants to be DS14. He asked for DS14's name for Christmas. After shopping for DS14, DS8 came home and changed his entire Christmas list to match what he'd just purchased for big brother. He lives, plays and breathes big brother. Fights with him all the time, too, just to make sure big brother doesn't forget about him. (And because he doesn't want me to get bored.)

I called DS14 aside and explained my problem. Told him that I was going to offer DS8 a choice and I needed him to play a role. Called DS8 in to have a *private* conversation with the two of them. Here's how it went:

Mommy: "Boys, do you remember Jin? She sent a little kid gift to DS4. It's a Mr. Potato Head. Do you want the gift to be partly yours and play with it with him tonight, or do you want to play Settlers? (a big person game)"

DS14 (on cue): "I don't want a little kid toy. I want to play Settlers."

DS8: "I want to play Settlers, too!" at which points he proceeds to tackle DS14, completely unfazed by the news that little brother was getting a gift. Then, "Can I give it to him?"

Mommy: "Sure you can give it to him. Just keep it a surprise til tonight."

With excitement, he presented the gift to DS4, watched him open it, then immediately joined us in a "big kid" game of Settlers.

Whew. One Christmas gift conflict resolved. One. ;)

BTW, if you've ever read Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, my mom, a longtime 4th grade teacher, tells me this was classic Fudge.

P.S. This morning, DS4 got out his new Potato Head. DS8 started to take over so I pulled out the old Potato Head set (from the garage sale box in the barn) so there was more to share. DS8 took the old set. DS4 the new. Then, both DSs informed me that they weren't going to share...that each of their sets was the best. Lovely.

4-year-old Words of Wisdom

When my 4yo--with 18 months of English under his belt--heard that we planned to get a Christmas tree this afternoon he said, "I'll be SOOOOO impressed!"

Mennonite Musings

[Note: A little off my usual content, feel free to read or skip...   :)  Just in the mood to share something different.]

On Sunday, our church hosted a hymn sing. My daughter invited several friends from school. Just before we arrived to pick them up, one girl's father asked her why she wasn't wearing a dress. "You have to wear a skirt if you're going to a Mennonite church," a comment I found humorous as I'd donned jeans for the same event, anticipating a chilly evening in the church gym. When the girl mentioned that my daughter doesn't have a cell phone he said, 'Well, that's because she's Mennonite. They can't." While my daughter is one of the only teens without a cellphone in our high school (a fact which she reflects upon daily lest I forget), she is also one of the only cell-deprived adolescents (the only?) left in our church.

With all the cell-less time, she had time to go to the hymn sing. Ever heard Mennonites sing? We're not supposed to be proud. But we are. I am. I didn't record the singing, but this video (not our church) or this one gives you a glimpse of what we experience each week. Although I'm Mennonite for many reasons, the singing is one of the things I would most miss were I to leave the denomination.

Four-part acappella harmony causes people to feel many things. Joy. Sorrow. Hope. Peace. An urge to boogie.

In my parents' youth, dancing was disallowed, believing it could lead to all kinds of sordid behavior.  But things have changed. At the hymn sing my 4yo son and his little 3yo friend from Sunday School entertained themselves by coloring pictures, holding the hymnal and pretending to sing at the top of their lungs, pushing toy trains around the gym floor and by--gasp--dancing. The 3yo girl took off her shoes and socks and started bouncing to the music (again...HYMNS!) while my little guy swung his hips and laughed. [Please note that this was pure child joy! No disrespect intended!] After a while, my son came to ask if he could take off his shoes and socks as well. I said no, that we only had a few minutes left.

Moments later, I watched the 3yo's dad sprint to the back of the room. I looked. Blinked. Looked again. His little daughter stood there, sans pants (but thankfully still clad in shirt and underwear), obviously enjoying the music and slightly amused by all the attention she suddenly received.

Quite thankful that I hadn't allowed the removal of shoes and socks (for once the foot garments were off, it would have only been too easy to imitate the rest!), I reflected on my ancestors and their feelings about dancing. Maybe they should have reconsidered the 4-part acappella harmony. Never know what it might lead to. :)

Feeling Tired and Inadequate

I LOVE being a mom. I've wanted to be a mom ever since I was really little. I distinctly remember telling my family that I wanted to have twelve kids. At the same time, my sister and my best friend were scheming about how they were going to become multi-billionaires. I happily took their joshing about how I was going to live next door in a "little white house with a white picket fence." That's really all I wanted.

Still is.

But life gets so BUSY. Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing a very good job. Cause there are too many JOBS!

I go from play practice. To soccer. To church. To preschool. To basketball. Somewhere in there I homeschool. Teach kids' classes. Teach continuing ed for teachers.

And all my littlest boy really wants to do is to sit on the couch and read a book with me. Or two. Or five. Or twenty.

You'll laugh when you hear about where the most effective homeschooling is going on for my 8yo right now. In a parking lot. At preschool. Two mornings a week, we are both captured in the minivan for 2.5 hours while the little guy is at preschool. So we intensely do schoolwork. No computers. No cell phones. No interruptions except for a 10 minute recess break with the preschoolers when it's not otherwise raining.

I'm doing what I always wanted to do.

Serious. So serious.

But I feel tired and inadequate.

Anyone else?

This job ain't for sissies.

P.S. I'm reading Katie Funk Wiebe's book, You Never Game Me a Name: One Mennonite Woman's Story. In it, she talks about the struggle between traditional woman's work and work outside the home. Just after I finished writing this blog entry, I read "In the decades after World War II, stay-at-home moms (and there weren't many of the other kind) were encouraged to clean, polish, and launder with a different product for each task. I had extra time after I finished my housecleaning duties, but that extra time, according to popular thinking, should be used in the home in some way, cleaning and re-cleaning and re-laundering something even if it wasn't dirty."

Just want to say... lately I don't have time to clean something once, let alone twice. And I'm very happy that I DO have the option to do all these varied tasks. Nothing like a little reminder about how few choices there once were to remind me how grateful I am to be busy. If tired. And inadequate. ;)