AmazonMidwife

This is what passes for banter in our house:
Boy: "Dad, choose a number between 1 and 10."
'Savant: "4.7853629105"
Boy: "I said choose one number between 1 and 10."
'Savant: "I did. There's an infinite amount of numbers between 1 and 10"

(The Boy was trying to sandbag his dad into talking about his new favorite obsession, Ben 10, and gets hit with a math lecture---another example of Machiavellian Homeschooling at its finest. But it goes on:)

Boy: "No, Dad. I want you to choose a regular number so I can tell you which alien you like the best."

Instead of seizing the opportunity to expand on his math lecture, the 'Savant goes wacky/wicked:

'Savant: "I will if you will answer me these questions three."
Boy: "Okay."

Obviously, we've been slacking on our Python tutelege. But it's pretty clear to me that we're doing pretty well on teaching geek.

Okay, so I was giving the Boy a writing diagnostic yesterday in preparation for purchasing curricula for this 'school year'. He wasn't happy at all about writing and was having quite the snit fit, so I decided I'd try to reason with him on his level:

Me: Listen, my friend, you have to be able to write to take over the world. How will you be able to issue commands to your minions if you can't write?
Him: I will have a scribe!!!!!! (emphasis his)

(Luckily, I was able to think of a quick comeback:)
Me: What if your scribe steals your ideas and takes over the world himself?
Him: (pausing for just a beat) I will keep him in a prison!!!
Me: (heroically keeping a poker face) Dude, then you'll have to spend time feeding him and taking him to the bathroom and making sure that he won't escape. You won't have time for your evil plans. It'd be simpler to learn to write.

He didn't have a comeback for this, only because he was trying to keep from smiling. I don't think he was converted to the light side, but he did finish the diagnostic without another tantrum.

I so rule.

So, I found a vastly appealing blog by an author who calls herself "Attila the Mom" last night and stayed up too late reading it. I particularly loved this:
which I showed the kids this morning, much to their glee, esp. the Boy who ran around chanting "I will whup your narrow ass!" so much that he forgot to pack clothes for the piano lessons he had after swim team practice. (So I got to say it to him in somewhat earnest when I discovered this lack of preparation when we got to swim practice.)

Then I went to Too Tight Pony Girl's blog and read this, thinking to myself that the summer vacation honeymoon was wearing off for moms of traditional schoolers. Ima gonna have to look sharp iffen I wanna keep up my title of "World's Meanest Mama".

Finally, as Steph was getting Her Girl to try on a dress that Steph was making for her, I overheard a snippet which took me back to my younger self standing by my mom's sewing machine.

"Ouch! This has pins in it!"
"Oh, quit whining. Getting stuck by pins has never killed anyone." Then, "Wait! Pull the dress down. The pins like it better that way."

Tough love, I tell you. Moderate it with a gentler tone and a wicked sense of humor and what do you get? A kid that reminds you (with a smart-assed grin) "Remember, I get to pick your nursing home." What else could a mother ask for?

I had a revelation Saturday while watching the Girl's soccer game: coaching a sport and midwifing a birthing mom use, in many ways, the same skill set. Both involve instilling self-confidence in one's body and its ability to perform the necessary tasks, looking for and praising said physical prowess, and carefully watching the athlete/mom while they are working to find ways to help them improve.

The medieval history class has two sewing projects back to back, so I've had little time to blog. Here's two of the kids dressed as Merovingian kings.

(Yes, the wigs are an important part; the Merovingians had a thing about long hair and virility, but they also had to fight, so they braided the hair in front into two braids, as we did, in case you can't tell from the picture.)