Here WEE Grow Again Charity Event

    Anyone with children living in Charlottesville, Virginia and the surrounding areas has become familiar with Here WEE Grow Again, a biannual children's consignment sale held at Aldersgate United Methodist Church.  The sale quickly became the "go-to" place for a plethora of gently used children's items. Consignors found a way to supplement their family income while shoppers discovered deals they otherwise could not afford, making the endeavor a true gift to the community.  What is slightly less well-known is that the sale has added in a charity event to further its giving outreach.

     This year's charity event will be held on March 4th from 3-7 PM. Shoppers are asked to donate $5 to one of three charities:  the Carson Raymond Foundation, children's programs of Hospice of the Piedmont, or Piedmont CASA. Charities are always selected based upon their contribution to children and families in the local area, and those selected are rotated at each sale.  This event is a fantastic way to purchase items for your children or grandchildren at affordable prices while supporting some great causes at the same time. 

     Here WEE Grow Again's Facebook page also has great information on the charity event and public sale, including photos of items currently available. Aldersgate United Methodist Church is located at 1500 E. Rio Rd (behind Fashion Square Mall.)

Why racism could be gone ...

    You may have already seen the Jimmy Kimmel episode where he sends someone on the streets to interview people on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. The interviewer asked people what they thought of the speech Dr. King made this year in comparison to his 1963 oration.  Amazingly, some of those folks answered as if they had heard a current speech from the eloquent Civil Rights leader.


     As a former history professor, this made me shake my head in dismay.  As a mother, it horrified me, and I rushed off to make sure my older two children at least knew something of Dr. King and his legacy.  My oldest immediately listed the "I Have a Dream Speech" and using words instead of violence to solve problems.  My eight-year-old responded with wanting to know of which country the man had been king.  Thinking I really had my work cut out for me, I started telling him that Dr. King taught us we should judge people on the "content of their character rather than the color of their skin," meaning we should look at others' actions rather than how they look.  As I prepared to explain further, my son looked at me and said, "You mean I am a color?"

    I'll admit it - my eyes filled with tears.  Here is Dr. King's dream come to reality ... my child had no idea he and others are a "color." As proud as I was of my son at that moment, I was also filled with an immense sadness, because I know other children are not given the same luxury of growing up without being constantly reminded of the color of their skin.  Are there still racists out there? Of course, but the ones truly constantly reinforcing the focus on skin color are individuals like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson, as well as the progressives who encourage such behavior.  They constantly want to brandish the "r" word and bring up color at every chance.  Perhaps if they would take a chance to look at the real world, they would realize there are many eight-year-olds that just want to play with their friends, even if the other kid is purple with green polka dots.

     In just three generations, we've gone from my father, who started kindergarten in Birmingham, Alabama, and remembers the principal telling the football players to bar the doors because "we aren't letting any ni----s in here" to a child who never knew he was supposed to refer to people by the color of their skin.  If the progressives in this country would acknowledge this amazing feat, perhaps we could say racism is well on its way to being gone ...

The Struggle to Swim

     This was my six-year-old at the beginning of the summer, upset because his sisters were splashing him in the face when he wanted to sit in the wading pool. (As you can see in the background, the two-year-old could care less about how wet she became.)  It may sound silly, but this attitude stemmed from an incident that occurred three years prior and changed my water-loving little buddy.

     At three years old, H was much like his older sister, happily dunking his face, practicing blowing bubbles and kicking his legs in the adult pool.  Then the day came when a family member who was supposed to be watching him looked away long enough for him to sink to the bottom of the pool where I spotted him in time for a rescue.  After what seemed like minutes of listening to him cough up water, my sweet boy looked at me and said, "Momma, I sink!"  So began a two year process where I was the only adult he trusted to be with him in the water.

    Each summer, we enrolled our son in swimming lessons, but he took him until last summer just to be comfortable in the pool again.  I have struggled not to show my despair . . . I grew up on the water and could swim like a fish from a very young age.  My older daughter could swim by the age of four, and the baby is already dunking herself and happily comes up spluttering.  I lamented that my son would miss out on all the fun I experienced in the pool, river, and ocean.  More importantly, I worried about his ability to keep himself afloat long enough for someone to rescue him should the need arise.

     This July brought us to a different pool and a new swim instructor.  I was able to convince H to give her a try once I told him she was also a lifeguard. (To him, I suppose that meant there was no way she was going to let him sink and leave him there.)  For the first few days, I was just happy to see him trying.  He mostly used a kick board or a noodle, but he never quit, even when he swallowed water.  I decided I would be happy if he could just learn to doggie-paddle on his own at the end of two weeks.  So imagine my surprise, on day five, when I saw my son swim both freestyle and butterfly ALL ON HIS OWN!

Granted, it is only three to four strokes at a time before he takes a break, but I was not sure we would ever reach this point!  I think by the end of the summer, I'll have an actual swimmer on my hands.

     Of course, all of this had led me to think back to my own days of lessons. I was fortunate that our family belonged to a members-only pool, so while busy, it was never terribly crowded.  We had room to practice our skills (not to mention tricks) and the lifeguards would give us tips even when we were not in lessons.  Also, as I mentioned, growing up on the water meant this was a life-saving skill and not just a fun past-time.  Occasionally, a friend would invite me to go with them to the public pool, and I absolutely hated it.  Want to know why?  The crowds!  You had to have permission from a lifeguard before using the diving board because there were usually so many people in the pool you would hit someone when you dove.  There was rarely much "swimming" going on - the throngs were so thick standing in the pool there wasn't room for any strokes.  As an adult, I wonder how many of those people could swim.  I think most of them were there just to cool off, and it makes me even more grateful that my parents were so insistent that I not only be able to swim but to do it well.  

For now, I'll concentrate on the happiness of my newest little fish . . . 

Homeschooling in Virginia

If you are a homeschool family living in Virginia and need some inspiration, look no further than the annual convention held by the Home Educators Association of Virginia, better known as HEAV.

This was our second year attending the convention, which is held the first full weekend of June each year at the Greater Richmond Convention Center.  While first-time visitors may feel a bit overwhelmed, we have found that nothing boosts both the children's and the teachers/parents' spirits more than this event.

You can hear a wide array of of informational and inspirational speakers who give talks ranging from the topics of preschool to high school, marriage to money saving ideas.  The Exhibit Hall is packed with vendors who happily answer questions as well as booths that provide hands-on activities for the children.  There is also a fabulous Used Curriculum Sale, enabling families to save quite a bit on their school costs.

The HEAV Convention is a three day event, with Thursday having seminars dedicated to first-time homeschoolers.  The cost is extremely reasonable, and a discount is available to HEAV members.  Parents of preschoolers may attend for free, and there is no charge for grandparents to attend with families.  HEAV also provides (for an extra charge) an area with bounce houses, games, and Christian activities that children may attend while parents attend seminars and shop.

I found myself especially excited to attend this year because all the grandparents agreed to go on Saturday (only my mother-in-law went last year.)  Our immediate family made the trip from Charlottesville to Richmond on Friday with the main goal of perusing the Used Curriculum Sale.  We did look around the Exhibit Hall, but we wanted to save most things for when the grandparents could see them, too.  What is that they say about the "best laid plans?"

We were up bright and early the next morning, preparing to trek back to Richmond, when the two-year-old starting throwing up.  I cleaned her up, and my mother-in-law offered to stay at home with her, but the little one was adamant about not being left behind.  I found myself in quite the quandary as a mother.  Should I leave her at home, screaming and miserable, or take her with us, just miserable?

I quickly put multiple changes of clothes into a bag for everyone (because who knew who would be holding the toddler if she got sick again), and off we went.  The good news is that the two older children, the two grandmothers, and one grandfather had a fabulous time.  My mother, who has a successful career in science, enjoyed investigating all of the wonderful options Apologia has to offer.  She wanted to purchase both the Botany and Zoology I packages, but I finally convinced her that would make science overwhelming and no longer fun.  (Incidentally, we decided on Botany and it is amazing!)  My mother-in-law enjoyed treating the kids to games, puppets, and just-for-fun reading books.  As for my father . . . I think he enjoyed the hands-on things such as the farm exhibit, robots, and lassoing as much as the kids.

My husband and I, on the other hand, definitely did not get to experience all that we wanted.  We were so worried about our youngest.  She would only let one of the two of us hold her, so we spent the convention taking turns carrying her as she slept off and on.  I did get to visit a few of my favorite vendors, such as Rainbow Resource and Memoria Press.  The only other booths I insisted on making time to see were those manned by  young homeschool business owners.

I absolutely love this idea that HEAV introduced two years ago.  Homeschool children that have their own business (not merely working for their parents) are able to get their own booths for a seriously reduced rate.  This year we saw items such as clothing, drawstring bags, jewelry, and marshmallow guns.  Our favorite by far, though, for the second year running, is 

Doll Clothes of Yore.

This young woman creates beautiful doll clothes from different time periods.  Her stitching is exquisite and the materials are amazing.  What I love most is that she gives historical context to each of her creations, enabling your child to have a gift that sparks their imagination while teaching them at the same time.  You can find these beauties at either the link above or on her facebook page called Doll Clothes of Yore.

I am happy to say that our daughter apparently had a twenty-four hour virus and no one else became ill.  Even with the stress, I am so glad we once again attended the convention.  I love seeing my children's eyes light up when they witness how large the homeschool community is in our state.  As my father commented several times - where else can you go with that large of a crowd of families where almost all the children are behaving, and the few who are not have parents attending to them rather than ignoring them or cursing?  It truly is a phenomenal group of which to be part, and I can not wait for our visit next June!

Celebrating Independence

These days, it seems to be more important than ever to teach our children the true meaning of Independence Day.

As an academic in the field of United States history, I quickly learned that the trend in the majority of our nation's universities was to belittle our Founding Fathers.  Professors often teach students that they should be ashamed of being Americans, and the best use of young people's time would be apologizing for any mistakes, both real and imagined, that their ancestors may have committed.  This policy made me uncomfortable as a graduate student.  As a parent and an American, I abhor it.

I made a solemn promise to myself, my children, and my God that I would teach my offspring the truth about this wonderful country.  That does not mean that we gloss over the ugly parts; rather, we will discuss how hardships such as slavery could not be overcome without the path the Founding Fathers established for us.

My promise is to have at least three young people in this world who truly understand what is meant by "pledging our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor."  I hope I can be strong enough to do the same.

Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, has been a source of inspiration to me since I was a little girl.  I loved visiting there and hearing about my favorite president and Founding Father.  I loved it so much, in fact, that I became an interpreter there while working on both my master's and doctoral degrees.

I saddens me that the Foundation that runs Monticello has fallen victim to the prevalent progressive disease of denigrating the men who helped to form this great nation.  Their willingness to flagellate Mr. Jefferson rather than celebrate his accomplishments only serves to make me more dedicated to passing on the truth of the creation of our magnificent country.  Call me a nationalist or a patriotic zealot . . . it makes no difference.  I know that God had His Hand in the formation of this country, and we owe both Him and the men who listened to Him more than a debt of gratitude.  We owe it to them to not let the truth be lost.

Passing it on

If you followed my post about our wonderful experience in the strawberry patch, you will remember that the plan was to turn much of the fruit into jam.  

I have such wonderful memories of spending time with both of my grandmothers in their kitchens canning and making jellies, jams, and pickles.  Whenever I see someone give one of those homemade jars as a gift at the holidays, I know they are receiving a container full of time, attention, and most of all, love and caring.

I had all those thoughts in my mind as I prepared the jars and got everything ready to mash berries.  (Full disclosure: I put the jars and rings in the dishwasher and let it run while I got everything else ready.  Not only does this help keep the jars hot, it also beats the heck out of hand-washing all that stuff.)  Imagine my happiness when my son appeared and asked in his sweet voice, "May I help you, Momma?" Here's where my homeschool parent mentality kicked in.  Knowing fully well that he would make a mess, I answered, "Sure, baby, that would be great."

As he began to mash, I told him stories about the times I spent doing much the same thing with his great-grandmothers, one of whom he had the privilege to know and love before her passing.  After a few minutes, my son said, "And now you're passing this on to me, right, Momma?"  His innocent observation brought tears to my eyes because even at his young age, he understood the importance of giving knowledge to the next generation . . . and something besides my grandmothers' genes will continue to live in him.

I will fully admit I didn't do things exactly the same as Granny and Nene always did (hence the aforementioned jars in the dishwasher.)  They both always used Sure-Jell, but I was torn as I stood in the grocery aisle and saw how much cheaper the store-brand was.  So, I bought both, and decided to see if the generic could live up to the original.

I am happy to say that the jam made with the Kroger brand set just as well as the batch with which I used Sure-Jell.  After all, my grandmothers also taught me that a penny saved is a penny earned!

My other admission to "cheating" is that I used the inversion method rather than hot water canning for both batches.  If you are new to making jellies and jams, you may not be aware of the difference.  My grandmothers, as well as my mother, all had large pots for boiling water baths to get their jars to seal. I just don't have the cabinet space for something I rarely use.  My "new-fangled" way is to use the inversion method (which, ironically, is not all that new.

The idea is that if your jar is hot and your jelly/jam mixture is as well, you can funnel it into your jars, screw on the lids, and invert your jars for about five minutes.  The heat on the glue of the lid, in addition to the air pressing down on the jelly mixture, will help your jar to seal.  After about an hour of the jars sitting upright, you should start to hear some satisfying "pops" as the seal takes.

I used this method for two batches, and every single jar sealed, a 100% success rate!

You know what I will enjoy the most about this year's jam?  The memories that went into it, as well as the special time I spent with my son.  It doesn't get much better than that.

Strawberry Delight

We had such a delightful family outing to the strawberry patch at Chiles Peach Orchard, located in beautiful Crozet, Virginia.

Of course, when you are a family of five, each person has a different goal in mind when approaching an activity such as strawberry-picking.  While I wanted everyone to have a good time, I also wanted to leave with enough berries to make jam.  Our oldest went in search of the largest strawberry she could find, and the middle child wandered from row to row, searching out the largest section of all-ripe berries.  Our youngest spent her time climbing in and out of the wagon, eating way more berries than she picked . . . in fact, I'm fairly sure the employees should have weighed her instead of her bucket!  My husband spent his time making sure none of the kids tipped their buckets over while I happily picked away.

The strawberries were so plentiful that it didn't take long to get the amount I needed and then some.  I quickly realized, though, the best fruit I was gathering had nothing to do with strawberries.  We were all together, outside on an amazing day, and everyone was enjoying themselves.  If the children are in a bad mood, I can usually do something silly to jolt them out of it, but my husband is a different story.  He works so hard (two, sometimes three jobs), and he tends to let his worry keep him from having fun on our excursions.  On this particular day, he was actually enjoying himself, and his good mood helped to boost the rest of us.  The fruit I truly received that day was a family full of connection, love, and happiness.

It is especially wonderful, once our strawberry jam is made, that I can feel that sense of peace and happiness every time I take a bite of that spring deliciousness.