Thursday, December 6, 2018

Civics

Sadly, I had to teach my children the requirements for becoming President of the United States:
1. 35 years old
2. legal resident for 14 years
3. born in the United States
They have no aspirations of becoming the President, but I'm sure it makes them feel even more like outsiders when they find out they're not qualified because they weren't born here.  They became legal U.S. citizens when they were babies, so they should have every right to run for President if they want to.  That's why Noah made a sad face on his test.
In Civics class, I taught him that any citizen can propose change, so to demonstrate that, I wrote to our State Representative, asking him to do what he can to change this outdated requirement.  He wrote back and thanked me for my feedback. 

Since I'm about the have the Constitution amended, it should be much easier to accomplish my next project: getting the speed limit raised on Idlewood Street.  We take this street from end to end, all the way across town, almost every day.  It's a long, straight road with sidewalks on the both sides and only one stop sign.  The average person would drive at least 40 miles per hour just naturally, but the speed limit is 30.  Mike and I have both gotten tickets on this road, and we have to set our cruise control to crawl along at 30.  Here's Mike's latest warning:

Thursday, November 1, 2018

Evolving writing class

When my kids were little, I taught a writing class that involved making up stories.   They searched through magazines and newspapers to cut out pictures that interested them.  Then we would sort them into bags labeled "people", "places", and "things".  They would draw one picture from each bag, glue them onto a piece of paper, and dictate a story about them that I transcribed. Here's one of Noah's when he was four years old:
Today, I was teaching a writing class, and I got out this old story and told Noah to write a new one.  He wrote:
HE DID WHAT?! (NOT CLICKBAIT)
The weeds at Westwood Park have grown so tall and out of control that the old men can't play baseball there anymore.  The old man wearing a red Make America Great Again hat becomes so frustrated that he bends over and begins to eat the weeds like a wild animal that deserves to live under a porch.  His two Republican friends watch in horror as the human lawn mower devours the entire field and builds a new outfield wall to keep the Mexican teams out.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Hydrant flushing

My kids and I have always enjoyed hydrant flushing day.  I hate to see good water go to waste, so I always park my car in front of the hydrant and get a free car wash.  The kids ride their bikes through the spray and get a free bike wash.  Then we all run through it, stomp in the puddles, and get a fun shower. Here are a few pictures from past years:


Last night, it was dark by the time the flushers got to our street.  I was coming home from a walk when I spotted a hydrant down the street gushing water.  I drove the cars over for their washing and then asked if anyone wanted to run through it with me.  I was thinking probably nobody would, because it's October, it's dark, and the kids are getting older.  Sarah surprised me by leaping right up and shouting, "Oh yes!"  So we ran down the street, fully clothed, headed for the cold spray.  We paused before we entered.  I was thinking, "Do I really want to do this?  I'm old and tired; it's dark and cold..." but Sarah yelled, "Come on, let's run!" so we held hands Thelma and Louise style and ran screaming through the jet of cold water. We did it again.  Then we stomped in the puddles and kicked water at each other.

I hope she remembers these spontaneous, fun moments and forgets all the bad ones. 

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Not a bank.

Last week I was calling around to find a bank where I could pay our real estate taxes.  It used to be that you could pay at any bank, but lately I've noticed the choices are fewer.  Noah was with me when I went into the bank to pay.  While we were in line, he asked, "Why don't you do this at CEFCU?" and I told him credit unions don't take real estate taxes, only banks.  He said, "But isn't CEFCU's motto 'Not a bank. Better.'?  Maybe they should change it to 'Not a bank. Worse.'"

Sidetracked

Our history curriculum came very highly recommended, and most homeschoolers I know use it.  Therefore, I tried and tried to like it, but I just don't.  It's so boring and very dryly written.  When I read it to Noah, I add my own little tidbits to try to interest him.  We're covering the 60s this week, and the text says, "1968 was a year of enormous upheaval."  I added, "Not only for the nation, but also for Grandpa and Grandma, because that's the year Uncle Jeff was born."  The text drones on about the 1960 election and how Nixon was favored to win but JFK won.  I added my opinion for the reason JFK won: He was young and hot, and Nixon looked like an old dried up troll on the televised debates.

Today I was supposed to teach about Kennedy's assassination.  I did actually teach it, but we ended up getting way off course.  Mike was here too, which added to the discussion.  Noah has his own theory about who assassinated JFK.  He thinks it was Lyndon Johnson, because he wanted to be President.  Mike mentioned Lee Harvey Oswald from the next room, but he referred to him as "Lee Harvey", so Noah thought he said Steve Harvey.  After the lesson was over, I asked review questions to see if he learned anything.  When I asked, "Who assassinated JFK?" he replied, "Roy Oswalt" who is apparently a major league baseball player.  Then we wandered off into conspiracy theories about the assassination, a discussion of "What on earth IS a book depository anyway?", and while researching the stealing of JFK's brain, we learned that Napoleon's penis was auctioned for three thousand dollars in 1977.  It was measured at one and a half inches long.  So, that's how we started with Kennedy and ended up an hour later at Napoleon's teeny weenie.  Sometimes that's the way history class goes. 

Meanwhile in anatomy and physiology, I'm teaching about the skeletal system.  I went to the butcher at Kroger and asked for some bones to study.  Now there's a thigh bone in a jar of vinegar on my kitchen counter.  Noah was still talking about penis auctions, so I asked him how much he thought his would bring.  He answered, "Four dollars."  I said, "We could store it in this jar with the chicken bone" and he said, "You'd have to get a bigger jar."  Homeschool is a strange place.

Friday, August 17, 2018

Lessons learned

Noah was grilling veggie burgers in the rain and got the grill too close to the house.  The siding melted.  He learned lesson #1: Don't grill close to the house.  Mike didn't freak out about it, but calmly went about ordering new siding.  Noah learned lesson #2: Don't damage a relationship over material things.
 Menards doesn't keep this siding in stock anymore, so it was a special order and took awhile to arrive.  Tonight, the boys fixed it.  Lesson #3: When you ruin something, fix it at least as good or better than it was before.





Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Hair lessons

The topic of my anatomy and physiology class today was hair.  Noah donated a lock of his to study.  I made a little fire pit for it and set it on fire so I teach about why burning hair stinks so much (there's sulfur in the keratin).

I threw in a quick lesson about false advertising and marketing too.  I had just taught that hair is made up of dead cells (otherwise haircuts would be a painful, bloody ordeal), and then noticed my bottle of conditioner claims to make my hair "more alive". 

Friday, July 27, 2018

Me? Really?

About a year ago, I bought a Beth Moore Bible study book at a garage sale, because I love Beth Moore.  A couple weeks ago, I finally cracked it open and started doing the study.  It has been really, really good.  This morning I thought I sensed the Lord telling me to lead the women of my church in this study.  Right away I started in with the excuses: "But you know I'm not a leader, and I don't have time anyway.  I'm teaching five high school classes and hauling Sarah where she needs to be and volunteering at The Share Closet, and I'm a youth group leader..." But I was still sensing that God wanted me to do this. So finally I said, "OK, I'll mention it to the head of Women's Ministries, and if she's into it, I'll do it.  But if she hesitates at all, I'll consider myself off the hook."  I sent Sheila a message and said, "Do you need a Bible study leader for the fall, or do you have enough?"

Noah emerged from his bed at that point, so I left the computer and went to talk to him.  I was telling him about what happened and ended up confessing that I don't feel holy enough to lead a Bible study.  He said, "You'll never be holy enough. Nobody is.  It's like what you told me about being a parent: 'If you wait until conditions are perfect (enough money, time, patience, etc.), you'll never do it.' So just do it."  I said, "I know you're right, but these people know me, and they know I'm not qualified..." and he said, "They trust you to lead their kids at youth group, so why wouldn't they trust you to lead them too?' 

I went back to my computer and found a message from Sheila that said my message was an answer to prayer because she had been praying for God to open hearts and minds to be Bible study leaders and especially to use those who don't think they have what it takes.  

Well, that's it then.  Looks like I'm doing it.  If you want to get deep into the life of John (the disciple, not the baptist), join us this fall!

My strange addiction

I spent a long time outside this morning taking pictures, mostly of bugs. When I came in, Noah and I had this coversation:

Me: I can't stop taking pictures of bugs.
Noah: You could make money on that.
M: That would be great!
N: There's this show called "My Strange Addiction" and you could be on it. 
M: Oh. I was thinking more along the lines of selling my bug photos.
N: Nobody cares about photos of bugs, Mom.  You're the bug they want to see.  The camera crew would come to our house and video you lying in the grass for hours with your camera, and the narrator would say, "This woman takes four thousand pictures a day...of bugs.  That's her strange addiction."

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Cicadas

This story starts four days ago when I discovered a fairly recently-molted cicada and thought how awesome it would have been to have witnessed the whole process.
Fast forward to Sunday night.  I was out for a quick walk to see my friend Jack. On the way home, I came upon a cicada walking down the same sidewalk I was. I stopped to observe it, because I had never seen one in its little brown shell walking.  I usually see the shells (which I've since learned are called "exuviae") empty and hanging on a tree. In fact, I've always enjoyed picking the exuviae off the trees and sticking them on people.  One time I even covered the front of my shirt with them and gave my nephew a big crunchy hug.

So while I was bent over thinking how strange it was to see an occupied shell, it started climbing up my shoe.  I realized at that moment that it was looking for a tree to climb so it could molt and that it had chosen me to be its tree.  It inched up my sock and latched onto my bare leg skin, which was entirely unpleasant.  Those little hooks that hold the shell onto the tree are very sharp!
It took an excruciatingly long time to climb my leg, during which time I was just standing there on the sidewalk waiting for it to get onto my shirt so I could start walking again.  It finally mounted my shirt and I started walking slowly towards home.  It had started raining by this point, so thankfully I was only a couple blocks from home.  Someone asked me later why I didn't just flick it off. It was going through the biggest change of its life, and it had chosen me to be part of it.  It never occurred to me to flick it off.

By the time I got home, it was at the top of my shirt, about to enter my neck.  Mike was watching a Cubs game on TV when I came in and said, "I've gotten myself into a bit of a predicament..." and he said, "Of course you have. What is it this time?"  I stood between him and the TV and said, "There's a cicada molting on my neck."
That was even more painful than when it was on my leg.  I gently unhooked it and put it on the drapes.  It climbed up to a point where I couldn't easily watch the show, and it was after 10 p.m. by then, so I took the drapes down and took them to bed with me. The show went on for another hour, with its shell splitting open and the newly molted cicada emerging.  It was completely captivating!



After he had been out letting his wings dry for awhile, I put him outside to finish the process and fly away. I couldn't sleep because I was all juiced up from the excitement of having the opportunity to watch such an amazing thing. I thought that was the end of the story.

Two nights later, still basking in the glow of that experience, I was walking the same route to see Jack.  At the exact same spot on the same sidewalk, there was a brown-shelled cicada walking towards me!  I couldn't believe it.  I thought I was dreaming.  I stopped to consider the implausibility of it, and sure enough, it mounted my shoe and started climbing.  This time I unhooked it and put it on my shirt while I walked home.  When I got home, I put it on our tree and watched it for the next hour, in awe that I was chosen for this special gift AGAIN!


I've wanted to see this my whole life, and suddenly I got to see it not once, but twice in the same week.
7/25/18 UPDATE:
Last night I found another one. Same time, same exact place.  I noticed that there's a tree near there that has been cut down recently, so my theory is that when they went underground they were planning on molting on that tree, but since the tree has since disappeared, they are left to wander aimlessly when they emerge. Here are pictures of last night's molt:
 He was taking forever, so I took a break from my constant vigilance and took a shower.  When I got back ten minutes later, his shell had cracked open this much.
 Wider crack. This was the second before he pulled his head out.
 The second after he pulled his head out.

 He totally relaxed and let his back legs flop out to the sides.
 Did a big situp, grabbed onto his shell, and pulled his back end out.
 
At this point, I opened my window and set his branch outside.  He was still there at 4 a.m. but gone when I woke up three hours later.

Friday, July 6, 2018

Korea--Day 14 (Friday, July 6)

Up at 5:30 a.m. to take the bus to the airport.This is the last picture I took in Korea:
 The mysterious Mr. Kim.  He didn't travel with us but appeared everywhere we went, like a magical unicorn.  He did a lot of behind-the-scenes work.

When we were checking in at the airport, the Korean airport employee said to me, "Mrs. Janes, you have been selected for..." and I couldn't understand the rest of what he said.  I hoped I had been somehow selected for a free bump to first class.  So I asked him excitedly, "I have been selected for what?" and this time I understood that I had been selected for extra security searches.  When we went through security, I was the only one who had to take off my shoes, have the metal detector wand waved over me, and be patted down very thoroughly.  My bags were segregated from everyone else's and searched equally thoroughly.  An airport employee took out a little silver strip that looked like a bandaid and wiped it all over my luggage. Then she took my passport and the little silver strip all the way across the room until I could barely see her anymore. She stuck the bandaid thing into a machine and did things I couldn't see. Meanwhile,  I was interrogated and inspected. Finally, I was deemed no threat to national security and allowed to go to the gate.   Three hours later when we went to board the plane, the airport employee scanned my boarding pass, and a red light started flashing and a message popped up that said, "Unable to board". I was whisked off to a little room, where I was made to take off my shoes, spread my arms and legs, be felt up and probed by a female officer, and have every item in my backpack taken out and inspected. The rest of my family just breezed right onto the plane.  Being "selected" isn't always a good thing.
 My vegan meal on the plane.  It came way before everyone else's and was delicious. The flight attendant came along with the hot towels again.  She held one out to me in her tongs and said, "Careful. Very hot." as she dropped it right on me.  It was indeed very hot, and within two seconds, it was cold.  I wiped my hands and face with it, because that's what everyone else was doing, but I really didn't see the point.  It's not like I had been working in a coal mine all day.  I was still clean from my shower. I did not get the random banana this time, but I saw someone else did.  I still don't know what means.
 The flight was only about 12 hours this time.  We were going almost 700 miles per hour.
 
Chicago, still thousands of miles from us.
Talking to Jee, the cute kid in front of us.
The lady in front of me draped her hair over my screen, so it was always part of the movies I was watching.  One time it was perfectly positioned atop Woody Harrelson's head so it looked like he had hair. 
It was Noah's turn for the window seat on this leg of the journey, so he snapped this photo.
My friend Allison's parents live close to O'Hare, so we had parked our van at their house, and her dad came and picked us up at the airport. Sarah went to sleep immediately and slept all the way home.  Now we're home, and there is so much to do: unpacking, putting everything away, doing lots of laundry, going through two weeks of mail, etc.  It feels strange to be home and have so much space and see so many white people. It will take us awhile to stop bowing to everyone and saying "kamsahamnida" ("thank you" in Korean).  Despite several disappointments and unexpected surprises, it was the trip of the lifetime that we hoped it would be.  We will be unpacking the memories and storing them up for years to come.

Thursday, July 5, 2018

Korea--Day 13 (Thursday, July 5)

We had a nice breakfast buffet, complete with devil's tongue jelly boiled in soy sauce (we didn't eat that, but it was on the buffet).  Mike and I happen to match today, because the only clean shirts we have are our Chicago Cubs shirts.
After breakfast, we had our last support group meetings.  It is nice to be with people who automatically understand adoption and being a transracial family without question or explanation.  I'm sure it must be nice for our kids too, to be with other families like ours and other kids like them who just get it.

Then we went to the airport to catch our flight back to Seoul. 
I watched the island get smaller until I couldn't see it anymore.  It was a little sad to leave, because I'll probably never see Jeju again.
Coming back to Seoul felt familiar.  We really like Seoul.  When we got back to our hotel, we had two hours to reunite with our luggage that we had left behind, unpack from Jeju, repack everything for our trip home early tomorrow morning, shower and get ready for our dinner with Noah's foster parents.  They met us in front of our hotel, and we walked to Myeongdong Kyoja for dinner.  We had really good dumplings (mandu) and some tasty noodle soup. Then we walked to The Coffee Bean for drinks.
It was difficult to communicate, and there was a lot of sign language, nodding, and smiling, but we had a nice time together.  Noah's foster dad put his arm around him while they were walking down the street.  It was a sweet moment.

Skyping with Noah's foster sister, Ji Young
We are thankful for these wonderful, generous people, the care they provided for Noah when he was a baby, and the love they still have for him.  Seeing them again was a nice way to end our trip.  We leave tomorrow morning.



Wednesday, July 4, 2018

Korea--Day 12 (Wednesday, July 4)

This is the first time I've ever been out of the country on its birthday.  I felt a little nostalgic and proud to be an American. Everyone on our bus sang the national anthem, and I actually shed a few tears.  How many times have I cried on this trip? I've lost track.

First stop today was Seongsan Ilchulbong Peak (aka Sun Rising Peak).  It's a big volcanic rock that we climbed for the view from the top.  The weather was clear (but so hot and humid).  This is the first day since we've arrived in Korea that we woke up to blue skies and sunshine.  It was definitely a challenging climb but worth it.
 The pictures don't even come close to doing it justice. 
Resting on the way up the rock.  Sarah and I rested a lot, just like my dad and I used to rest a lot when climbing mountains in Colorado.
 Noah was the first of our group to make it to the peak.  I was near the last.  Just like when we went to the Grand Canyon.  Noah was the first one up out of the canyon, and I was almost last.
 That's my triumphant "I can't believe I made it" pose. I've never sweated so much in my life.
The view from the top looking down. There were lots more stairs than this, but can't get them all in the picture.
 I finally mastered the Korean art of "making a tiny heart" with my fingers.  Apparently it's a thing in Korea.  They're always doing it for pictures.
There's the great beast, post-climb. 

Next stop was the beach. It was absolutely perfect day for it: hot and sunny.  The water felt great.  Cool, but not nearly as cold as it was in Busan. It was the only sunny day we had in Korea.
Everything was great until we started getting stung by jellyfish. The lifeguards swooped in and caught a huge one, but it broke apart as they pulled it out of the water, and the stinging tentacles were dispersed through the water.  The lifeguards evacuated us, but too late for many of us.  I got stung three times on each leg; Sarah got stung on her leg and finger; Mike got one on his back; and Noah had several stings on his legs.  Mrs. Oom's son-in-law had some antivenom spray, and the kids both got treated by the beach nurse.  We didn't go back in the water after that.

When we got back to the hotel, we had less than an hour to get ready for the theater performance and farewell dinner.  We were told (at the last minute) to wear our best attire, after previously having been told we would only need shorts and tshirts on this leg of the trip.  My only good attire had been at the bottom of the dirty clothes bag for several days. I hauled it out and hung it in the bathroom while I took a hot shower, hoping to steam out the wrinkles.  Then I rubbed it with bar soap and hoped for the best. 
 Nanta show. Lots of high energy drumming and flying food.
 Farewell dinner at the hotel

 This super long table was full of all kinds of delicious food.  I didn't get a picture when it was full, because I was too excited about all that food. It was quite a feast!