And My Top 10 Reasons for Using k12 Are... Part 1 of 10

10. It's "free" to use, as a courtesy of my school property tax dollars. Personally, I'd like to see property tax allowances for families who homeschool. Thus allowing parents to spend on their own children the money they would have paid the school district for less than quality programs and teachers who don't really care about kids in the first place.

Most of your education alloted tax dollars don't buy program. They buy teachers. How many of these teachers do you actually trust? I've heard enough union whining I'm not convinced these people really want to bother working in schools.

Teachers whine over anything they can. I've heard about class size.

The classes are too big. I have 20+ kids in this room. I can't keep track of everything that goes on in here. I just don't have the time for your child's needs. He needs to enter special programs.

I thank God you don't work in business, retail, or food service, especially management. You'd never survive. If you can't handle 20 kids, you'd be eaten alive in the adult world.

I've heard it all about ADHD.

Johnny is a brilliant kid, but he's so out of control. I want you to make him behave in my classroom. I just can't handle him. What am I supposed to do? You need to take him in for an evaluation. I really think he needs medication.

What did you go to college for? Pizza and beer? My boy was born with more testosterone than estrogen by God's will. I don't expect him to behave like a girl. Why should you? Don't even think about mentioning medication. I can haul your tush into the principal's office and have a nice legal/disciplinary chat about medication. I already told you his doctor is not recommending it. You're the one with the college eduction. Act like it.

I've heard it all over personal salary.

I just don't make enough in this job. I can't live on this job alone.

I have several things to say here. First off, I do realize teachers don't get paid well compared to everything else that requires a BS or BA for entry level work. I also realize teachers are pushed in MA programs to a point I feel the MA in Education has lost its core value. I'm not opposed to salary increases for teachers. I don't dig the whining over it.

In the real world, no one is ever paid what they're worth. If your income is supported by tax problems and you have a problem with that, I suggest you get another source of income. Try owning a business where you have to sign someone else's paychecks. You may learn something about your school district income. Besides, why should your income be an issue? Isn't the greatest reward in education the satisfaction of teaching kids?

Your tax supported income is a matter of perspective. I realize living under your means is not always easy. Toys and bling are tempting. I know. But if I can go without stuff simply because I don't have the CASH, why can't you?

I've heard it over expectations.

I have all this stuff I'm told to cover. They want it covered this way. I have to teach the material using this method. I can't just veer from the program. We all have to do exactly the same thing. Even if what your child is doing makes no common sense what so ever, I can't make any exceptions to the rules. I have to stick to what I'm told.

Do you do any thinking for yourself? Are you even teaching my child HOW to think? Or is it more like WHAT to think? No wonder America is so messed up in the head. We quit developing thought processes.

Whining makes me sick as it is. I don't need my kids being sent to whining class just because someone has a personal issue with her job.

Is It Just My Kids?

The word is now official. Both of my children have big feet. This news is now confirmed with Beadgirl's size 8 shoe. Nicknames will not be changing. Bigfoot and Beadgirl will continue to carry their personal identities. Their shoe sizes will be forever changing, only to cease growing upon the end of the world.

Awed as I may be, I must now fess up to the fact that my daughter, Beadgirl, will soon be wearing the same shoe size as me. Only last weekend did we buy her size 8 shoes. I only bought the size 7s four months ago.

I have officially validated my reason for restricting shoe purchases to Payless Shoe Source. I can't afford anything else anywhere else. You try buying $50 shoes every three months for your kids and see what it does to your endless limited budget for four people. Only at Payless can I write a check without showing ID due to our loyal consumer purchases. A trip to Payless usually looks something like this:

Entering into the store are three people: Bigfoot, Beadgirl and Mom. Upon our arrival and recognition by the manager, we are directed to the location of the shoe sizing tool. As we are loyal customers every three months, Bigfoot and Beadgirl have complete comprehension of how to size their own feet. Off come shoes and feet are placed onto the tool. Gawking is made by Mom as I stand in amazement that their feet have grown yet another shoe size.

New sizes are pronounced, and children are sent to the appropriate section of the store. Typically, I will go along with Beadgirl to her section of the Ladies department. This is a crucial time in my need to exercise my right of parental influence. Most shoes in her size reflect an age bracket at least five years older than hers. I prefer to have my nine-year-old daughter look as if she is nine, not fifteen. We find several pairs for trying on containing pink somewhere in the fabric of these shoes.

While she is lacing up shoes, I wander to the mens large feet section where Bigfoot is looking at several different pairs. All must be black, or contain as much black as possible. White is disgusting in the mind of the twelve-year-old. No where on any pair of his shoes shall white be allowed. Shoes must have a key color: black. His shoes are found, tried on.

Perfect fits are found for both children. New shoes are packed into boxes and carried to the register. Bar codes are scanned and shoes are bagged. The bags don't last long for us. Just long enough to take everything to the car. They'll done their new footwear before I turn the engine on. I pull out the checkbook, and proceed to write the check. The manager and I carry on over the size of my children's feet. She has gotten to know us quite well. We come in every three months. Not for a replacement of worn out shoes, but an upgrade of foot size.

Shoes are then taken to the car. Bigfoot and Beadgirl pile into our two-door compact car. Before I can fasten my seatbelt, two rear-seat seat belts have been buckled and new shoes are donned. I a fix the bluetooth to the ear, and call Bigboy. He needs to know our weeds children have grown once again.

I thank God for a very good blessing He has given my life. I don't have to deal with status pressure such as the desire for Sketchers, Nike, or Doc Maartens on the feet of my children. I don't know what I would without that blessing.

Actually, yes I do know what I'd do. I wouldn't buy every cool name brand they want. I'd buy them what we can afford, proceeding to lecture two kids on the importance of not having everything everybody else has. We buy for them the shoes and clothes we can afford, and all that blah, blah, blah. We have to remember to be ourselves. We need to live within our means. Even if that means we don't have all the cool stuff. Stuff does not make the person. Our actions do, and all that yada yada yada.

Kids don't need cool popular shoes anyway.

Test Time!

Oh here we go a WASL-ing
Among the April spring
There's tests to be taken
And students nowhere to be seen.

So may state tests come to you,
And to you, a WASL too
May this test truly prove what our kids can really do
May the WASL prove what our kids can really do.

In all the glory sarcasm provides, I just love WASL time. Thrills and chills come to my spine every year as I read through our current WASL testing schedule. Suddenly, the realizing questions hits me harder than military tanks:

Why did I decide to use a public school support program?

I know exactly why. Because I'm broke and can't afford our own curriculum. We've been living the past four years at half the income we were at in 2003. Homeschooling two kids in our house shack isn't easy when we are living with low high enough income to qualify for the earned income tax credit.

I can't afford to buy the stuff on my own. When I started homeschooling over two years ago, my clueless rating was on Pluto when it came to knowing what I was doing. I had no clue how to write lesson plans my kids would respond to. I had no money to buy anything for school use. Nor, did I want to revert to doing nothing more than the worksheets he'd gotten bored with in the private school I was paying tuition for. K12 was not available through the WAVA yet. I needed resources, and was told I could get them through my public school district.

Two years later, here we are, using K12 through our public school district. If I had the ability to pay for the program on my own, I would. For the next several years, that's just not happening. In the mean time, I can handle living under public school umbrella. Yes, including the wonderful pointless WASL.

After reading the information published about the WASL by the wonderful state of Washington, I have come to this conclusion:

The sole purpose of the WASL is to test how much the Office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction can spend our tax payers' dollars saying the same thing we've been saying for the past twenty years.

Big Brother does not care in the least if the common American can read, write, spell, or compute math. Big Brother prefers to veer so far away from the basics that kids will no longer understand anything beyond demands made by corporate employers. If Big Brother did care about education in America, we'd go back to the reading, writing and math methods we used over 100 years ago. I don''t think our government leaders and teachers union have figured out, or even care about, what has happened to education in America.

When I started this post, my intention was to poke at the on-site operational regulations. These rules are not posted on the Internet anywhere. Testing classroom rules include stuff like the restriction of people entering or leaving the room. Absolutely under no circumstance shall anyone enter the room. No student shall leave the room until all testing is finished. If there were to be a deranged and jaded dropout coming to campus to engage in gunfire, there is no need for alarm. The school is already in testing lock down.

More rules of our practical over-priced WASL: You may only take one test section at a time. Since we parents are not allowed to sit in a testing room, I can only speculate a proctor reads something like this:

Take only one test at a time. Do not pass STOP. Do not continue into the next section. This is not a game of Monopoly; there will be no payment of $200 dollars for your progression through each round of the test. The State of Washington has no care for your time efficiency skills. There is no concern for how bored you may be. Please take another Ritalin and sit down.

Here's another one. Just remember, I have to guess what is said. we parents aren't considered privy to this information, since we parents apparently cannot be trusted:

Speak nothing of the WASL. Speaking of the WASL before, during, or after may result in sudden and instant arrest or even death.

Should anyone even enter the room storing cases of test booklets, that person can face criminal charges. Beadgirl told me she was instructed not to discuss anything about the test before, during, or after. I realize, on this note, that the public schools were initially a concept brought about by Freemasonry to educate and elevate the honorable status of society. Since the inception of the Industrial Revolution, that dream has not been seen. Just because the Blue Lodge has secrets private information, and the school system evolved away from the dreams of the Free and Accepted Masons, doesn't mean the State of Washington has to restrict children in their use of speech. That really should be left to the parents. If speaking about the WASL is so detrimental to the taking of the test, where is the armed guard for the door? Let alone, why are tests not coming to schools via armored transport?

I have yet to see anything worth while in this particular test. Don't get my wrong. I'm a believer in routine evaluation. I just don't see how the WASL is measuring anything beyond how much tax money Washington can spend on it.

Time for a Walk

Warning: the following post contains events and activities of strange nature. Taking part in activities of this nature can be extremely dangerous to your health. I don't highly recommend regular participation in this type of behavior on a regular basis. Not every day in a person's life should someone just get out of a vehicle and walk down the middle of a major freeway. Walking in the middle of traffic will ultimately result in death in most circumstances.

Therefore, as of this point, if you or someone you know chooses to walk down the middle of a major interstate, I AM BY NO MEANS RESPONSIBLE. Under no circumstances shall I take any responsibility for the behavior of people dumb enough to walk or run down any busy highway. I do not, under any circumstances, give permission to participate in this activity.

Please do take consideration in understanding that this may be a common practice of some people in the state of California. Only in California, does one see billboards along I-5 recommending a 55 mph speed because you might hit some poor mother with two kids running across the freeway. This I never believed actually happens until I saw it on TV one night.

With that said, here's a sample of just what I did today:Yes, this is me standing next to the Expedition of a good friend. Located on I-90 in the wonderful Snoqualmie Pass, we were waiting for an avalanche to clear from the highway. Since our travel to Yakima was interrupted temporarily, I chose to stretch my legs. Yes, I took a walk on the highway. I don't encourage walking like this in the middle of the road on a regular basis. My excuse? Traffic was stopped. We knew we had a wait. Semi long haulers had shut off their engines, and some were taking naps. I drive all morning long for my job. The last thing I need to do is sit for hours waiting for traffic to move. I decided to take a walk.The Little-Big Brother and Bigboy chose to get out of the truck as well. They just didn't choose to walk with me.I have to admit, I think I may have had them well worried when traffic started moving again. I did make it safely back to our little clan, considering I decide to get out of the lanes and onto the shoulder.

Just remember, I don't recommend walking down the middle of highways with fast moving traffic. If you do choose to walk down highways in stopped traffic, do so with intelligence.

Return the child to Sender, Half Asleep

Earlier today, I asked Bigboy to take something out for dinner. His protein source of choice: chicken and bacon. The Plan A: fry up the bacon as bacon bits, stuff them into the chicken with cheese, bread everything and bake it. By the time I needed to start dinner, neither chicken nor bacon was thawed enough to bother. Plan B: run to town for pizza. Bigfoot won't mind pizza in the least bit. Coming home from four days of mischief and mayhem with 1000 other boys generates a bottomless need for pizza.

As I'm checking out of the grocery store, what should I encounter, but a ringing phone. Bigfoot has come home. According to Mom Mouse and Dad Jordan, he was awake until Gig Harbor, and asleep by Olalla. As the rented SUV came into Port Orchard, several countless attempts were made to wake him up before he got home.

His exhaustion is out of my hands. Powerless I am to aid him in his need for sleep. He was only surrounded by 1000 other boys from around Washington State. Testosterone went flying all around the Wenatchee Convention Center for four straight days.

Coming to you, from my reliable source Bigfoot, I have been told the 1.5K run was held at 1am Saturday. Yes, several hundred boys ran laps around the convention center in the middle of the morning. Can you say testosterone? I was also told four boys were riding the elevator up and down for the sheer pleasure of riding an elevator. Generation of this pleasure resulted in two boys pushing each other into the elevator alarm. Once this alarm was set off, and appropriately turned off, four boys went running from said elevator, one of whom ended up in a girls bathroom out of extreme requirement to pee.

Sleep was temporarily obtained over the weekend. Certain activities provided perfect opportunities for nodding heads, dozing off, short lived snoozing, and power naps. Every one of these from breakfast to initiatory degree sessions were taken advantage of. Bigfoot testifies to sleeping for somewhere around half an hour over the four day weekend.

Pizza came home, went into the oven, and within one hour of eating, Bigfoot crawled into bed. Never to be seen again that night, the child, who fights off sleep on a regular basis, willingly shut his eyes. He may wake up tomorrow. then again, maybe not.

Peace and Quiet, I Think

I haven't gotten a phone call yet. If I were to receive a phone call from Bigfoot, he would come home to the Apocalypse of groundings. Why? Because he would be done in for the last time.

In translation:

Bigfoot is off at Washington DeMolay Convention this weekend. He is spending four days with almost 1000 teenage boys from around Washington State. Events for this weekend range from official business and election of state officers to spending all night with XBoxes and Wiis. This is a hyperactivity breeding ground. Allowing almost 1000 boys to concoct mischief and mayhem in a hotel can be dangerous business. I stayed home, where there is safety and protection from the wild animals.

There are certain things I expect out of this.

1. I do expect him to stay up all night all weekend.
2. I do expect him to sleep all the way home from being crazy enough to stay up all night all weekend long.
3. I fully expect him to run laps around the hotel should he be caught with an energy drink in hand. I have made it known to his adviser dad that running off unnecessary sugar and caffeine from energy drinks will not take long. Bigfoot is a fast runner.
4. I half expect him to come home a better person with higher moral values. I only half expect this simply due to the fact that I can never know what to expect from Bigfoot.
5. Most importantly, I expect him to have an excellent time being a twelve year old boy running a muck along side almost 1000 other teenage boys.

Beadgirl is reveling in this joyful four days without her big brother. On the flip side, life without a big brother for a few days has generated requirement of the room cleaning to end all room cleaning. Never again, according to her mom and dad, shall her room ever become this big of a chore. If it shall become the tremendous chore she has made it, all fun activities shall become forfeit and her parents will engage in the privilege of cleaning for her. Engagement of this parental right may involve, but is not limited to the removal of toys, beads, and other nonessential wants.

She has had her fun. Her aunt took her out to a park for disc golf yesterday. I'm not sure what we'll do tomorrow, but we'll make sure to have some good quality time.

As for me and my Bigboy, we have four days of peace and quiet. There is no fighting amongst siblings. There is none of the usual only half of our regular dose of whining from the mouths of children. Ah, the relaxation of having a child out of the house for the weekend.

There might be peace and quiet for a while. So long as I'm not blaring TobyMac on the stereo.

In Loving Memory

Yesterday afternoon, after several months living with lung cancer, our Grandfather, John Arnold Hazel laid down his working tools and traveled to that undiscovered country. He no longer carries the pain cancer inflicts upon man. His love for his family is well cherished and returned to him now in heaven.

Although we will miss his presence here on earth, we praise his being received by our maker. His life was well lived and Godly. We lift up to God, Grandpa's life, lived in His honor. May he continue his blessings to the world in spirit through God's will.