Learning and teaching

I’ve been busy with kids and house work, maybe even overwhelmed. I’m looking for and trying out different things to change that feeling.

One challenging aspect of my life has been homeschooling my youngest son. Their are days it is the last thing in the world either of us want to do.

It gives me a greater respect and  appreciation for teachers, and parents who are homeschooling their children.

In my next few post I am planning on sharing my experience in a real life/ relatable way. In dining this I hope to reach some people like me who need to know something more about homeschooling their children.

I’ve read through countless blogs and websites, all of them have painted a prettier picture of homeschooling or set some  ridiculously high standards for you and kids.

I’m looking forward to getting this out there, but until then…






Emotional scale

Life has its ups and downs. Lately it’s been hard to take, but I keep screwing my head on straight as often as I can possibly imagine.

Once I stop going crazy over whatever the last thing was, once I’m not fueled with anger, I stop and try to relax.

Once I’m relaxed once again I can start getting myself back together, which usually involve some kind of task.

When I’m fueled with anger I actually get really productive in mindless task- I clean things to keep from turning into a nutcase.

After I’m calm again I enter a state of creativity. If for some reason that can’t happen or gets interrupted it turns into complete depression and hopelessness.

Knowing all this about myself has made me curious, I know I have seen many different “emotional scales”

Two I know we’re very similar and very close to the way I work through things.

Kind of like the cycles of grief, once you know them you know exactly where you are and where your headed.

The comfort of knowing is priceless.

So I want to find those emotional scales again, I want to compare them, and if need be, re-arrange them to my own emotions, and use it as a kind of map.

Re-arranging the scale according to yourself (I’m posative) is a good thing, because once you start paying attention you start to catch your own patterns.

Me for example; I know depression and hopelessness are at the bottom of most of these scales, and things like anger and revenge are the next step up.

Anger and revenge are my rock bottom, hopless and depressed are an improvement for me.

Ill shut up for now and do my research.

j. aaron

Eccentric people are the best

Someone called me eccentric a while back, I’ve always felt pretty typical myself, but I love that someone would describe like that.

Personally I like interesting characters a lot, lately I’ve been finding inspiration their.

Have you ever heard of Forest Finn? I’m not going into a detailed explanation, but he’s an interesting old man who spent his life seeking adventures and he hid a treasure somewhere in the Rocky Mountains.

He’s written sever books, one has a poem containing clues, one has a map. I want to buy his books sometime soon, I think it’d be cool to go visit the places in the books as I read them.

If that lead me to the treasure, I think he’d be the only person I’d tell. He wants people to go looking for it.

I bet it’d force me into writing about my adventure inspired by him.

Liz Hopkins

Well, I’m aware this might make some people assume I’m a creep.

So be it, but I’m not really.

I’m a harmless fan of the band Delta Rae. I can’t get enough of them.

(According to my studies; hearing them produces and releases dopamine’s in my brain, and that’s not such a bad thing, as long as the dopamine production isn’t based on say… gambling, that would suck!) but a music that you can turn on, or look forward to turning on, that’s probably a good thing.

On to my creepiness…

These pictures focus on Liz Hopkins because she’s my favorite. I don’t know why, there’s just something real and relatable, beautiful and sad, just something about her that I can’t put into words.

Brodi likes Brittany, the blond girl, and I get where he’s coming from because he describes her as “creepy and all over the place” and I have to agree, those are the best things about her.

But I just love my Liz, idk, maybe I am a creep to some people. I just love her the most.

I think Brodis all in with my idea of going to see them in Cincinnati. I’m really excited, for them yes, but I’ve also been trying to figure out who Brodi would like to see also, so maybe this is our chance to act like nuts in a crazed crowd? Who knows?


I’ve been teaching things like nouns, pronouns, regrouping, times tables, states and capitals so much that my own brain is fried from it.

I don’t remember learning these things until middle school at least, but every generation is different.

I also didn’t know a single cuss word until 6th grade, so I might have been extreamly sheltered compared to my kids.

I feel like I’ve sheltered them a lot, of course you can’t reverse their past, so they know some stuff they probably can’t understand.

Brodi is almost 9 years old now and I can’t believe it, when he’s sleeping he’ll stretch out and I hardly believe my eyes, he was a tiny little thing when he came to us.

Time, I realize more than ever, is just an illusion. Ten minutes can feel like two seconds, or ten years.

Everything we know is old news. It’s all in the past.


Later on

I was the first to wake up.

My latest morning ritual is to mentally or physically make a list of ten positive aspects of whatever topic pops in my mind.

Its usually hard at first, then flows easily. It’s supposed to train you to appreciate everything in life.

It was hard at first, my list are usually about people, but when the easy flow came it wasn’t a list anymore. (And I think that’s how you know it’s working)

It was a realization, maybe similar to something Anne would’ve felt.

I realized all at once that I don’t need to seek out love or friendship because it already came to me.

I have both. I littterally had both right there, all in perfect harmony.

Adam tucked under my arm, and behind him a hung over blanket hog lay snoozin’ completely unaware that he was soon to be late for work.

These two unusual characters under my wing, in a way, and I’ve totally failed to see it.

And how blessed I am that despite everything, I have not been pulled in any direction.


A horrible host part three

So, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m about to be the horrible host.


(This picture is of some Japanese writing I attempted to recreate using my new colligraphy pen, no connection to my story, but as I take a break from colligraphy I’m going to wrap up this embarrassment of mine.)

Like nervous little Anne Shirley left alone to host a tea party and feeding Diana enough alcohol for a  whole bar, I was digging in the fridge for drinks to offer.

I brought Jackson a fruity drink, I don’t love them exactly, I never finish a whole one, but every once in a while it sounds good.

I only had two, so I gave him one and just poured a little in a cup for myself. I let him know he could drink the rest of mine if he wanted, like I said, I never finish one.

Well, after watching two movies in a row it was late, Jackson turned into a funny chatter box which entertains me, but annoys Adam.

Adam goes to bed, and Jackson turns into the emotional sharing kinda drunk.

Now I’m feeling a little guilt, but on the bright side maybe it’s good he gets things off his chest, only I couldn’t make him feel any better, so I guided him into see Adam.

Then the vomiting started, and I really felt really bad, like I just poisoned someone- I apologized a lot, to him and Adam.

But the goofy Jackson and sad Jackson mixed together for a new pathetic character who talked to himself while attempting to clean up his mess.

My mess really, stupid me, but jumping into action is one of my strengths, and gross things just loose their power over you when you have kids.

So I took charge of the vomiting in the bathroom and tucking the poor guy into bed, he was out so fast, and that sigh of relief came over me as I flooped into bed next to Adam.

“I feel like Anne Shirley when she accidentally got Diana Barry drunk. You leave me alone for five minutes and I’ll make a mess of things.”

Adam knows I think of these characters as if they actually exist in our lives.

“Only you would be thinking of Anne Shirley right now.”

And in an instant somehow it all felt better.

A horrible host part two


This is our friend Jackson after he tried to lay down in bed on vacation with Adam and Brodi.

Well first it was Adam and Jackson about to take a picture when Brodi flew through the air and landed mostly on Jackson.

This picture warms my heart and makes me smile- these people, you will never understand, but trust me it’s all very good to see.

Enough introductions, my story starts with my very uncomfortable situation of leaving home while not feeling good about anything.

My mom invited us all to dinner but I’d be the only one showing up. My feelings were hurt and all over the place, so I left before licking my wounds clean.

This situation really bothers me, and I can’t socialize or eat with something on my mind. I already hate people trying to feed me.

At some point I forgot about everything and started petting a sad little dog.

Adam asked if I was okay enough to invite Jackson over. (I wasn’t even home yet) but I said yes, that I was doing great after about 15 min. away from the stress I’d been experiencing.

So I rushed home to clean up, adam and the kids walked in, then milliseconds later Jackson walks in the back door.

So much for cleaning.

A horrible host part one

“Only you would be thinking of Anne Shirley right now”

I have very little shame in admitting that I love the Anne of Green Gables books by L.M. Montgomery.

Anne had a wild streak of imagination, a longing to be loved, and to find friendship, all of which had a way of working against her.

If I were a psychiatrist I’d say she also had a severe case of A.D.H.D.

You tell her she can use the non-alcoholic raspberry cordial for her tea party with Diana, the ultra conservative  neighbors little girl, and what’s she do?

She pulls out the best Cherry cordial you’ve stashed away for years that has a high alcohol content.

But hey, it’s still a fruity drink right, Diana will enjoy that… what could possibly go wrong?

This is where the book drops off, and my real life story begins…