Can you see the 5 Differences?

Flash back to elementary school: the teacher tells us that we have to go to the nurse's office. We line up outside the door, no one quite sure what's going on, everyone asking the people near them what we're doing. One by one we're called in and told to take off our shirts and lean over. Mortified, but a 'good girl' who did what she was told, I did it. I only later found out that the nurse was screening for scoliosis, and that my parents had signed a permission slip, but not thought it necessary to mention it to me.

The nurse made a list of those who she thought might have scoliosis and should be screened by a doctor. I was on the list. The doctor actually came back four times. Four times I had to take my shirt off in front of a man I did not know and lean forward. I remember just how I felt, how sick and embarrassed and violated.

The doctor eventually decided that my spine was ok.

Wrong.

It started with shoulder pain. Then back pain. My parents brought me to doctors who told them I was having growing pains. Then the pain spread to just about every part of my body. I went to more doctors than I can count. One, a rheumatologist, diagnosed me with fibromyalgia, a relatively new term at the time, when I was twenty-one.

Wrong.

For almost 20 years I have been fighting to find a doctor who would pay more attention to what I was telling them than to an old diagnosis. I would tell them that I could feel something structurally wrong with my body. I would tell them the story of the scoliosis test. Every single doctor ignored what I had to say and tried to explain fibromyalgia - something they don't really understand and have no idea how to treat - something they essentially made up because they don't know how to explain a group of symptoms - as if I was just not that bright. As if my pain was not as bad as I said it was. As if I was looking to score pain killers. As if they understood my body better than I did.

Wrong.

No one would give me an MRI. I literally begged for one. I was repeatedly told that it was not necessary because fibromyalgia does not show up in any screening methods. I told them I do not have fibromyalgia. They didn't believe me.

Wrong.

Finally, finally, when I had a new pain that was causing me to scream out in my sleep, I went to a doctor who agreed to send me for an MRI of my hip, pelvis, and lumbar.

Guess what? I have scoliosis. It has led to at least two herniated discs. I'll have an MRI on Wednesday to find out what's going on in my neck and thoracic area. I am convinced they'll find all sorts of things in my mid-back, which feels like it has fallen to pieces.

So I'm looking at surgery, and just maybe the incredibly new experience of living without debilitating pain. I can't quite imagine what that would be like.

Dagny does magic.

She gets some fluffy wool




spends some time with one of these




and ends up with this



How lucky am I?

Thanks to Ren, there's a new baby in our house. Ok, technically he lives with Andrew, but since Andrew spends lots of time here I can pretend the baby's mine.

We stopped at Ren's house in Tennessee on our way to the conference and we were immediately led downstairs to meet the kittens. Anyone who's ever met a kitten knows they're pretty damn hard to resist. I mean seriously - look at this kitten!




We were convinced our dogs would not allow a kitten in the house. Andrew, on the other hand, has cats and a dog and just had to bring home a kitten. One question, though: Could I babysit him for a week while Dagny and Andrew went to NBTSC? And would I make it really clear to Rowan that the kitten is Andrew's?

Well, sure, I figured we could handle the dog/kitten situation for a week. And Rowan felt pretty sure she could handle the fact that the kitten was going to live with Andrew.

We forgot one little thing. No one made it clear to ME that he was Andrew's kitten, and I have fallen completely in love. Again, seriously - would you look at this kitten?!



This cat has ruined some pillows. He has scratched Rowan's eyeball, causing inflammation of her cornea, a need for Dr. visits and lots of eyedrops. (The Dr. wrote a prescription saying Rowan needed the kitty, but Andrew didn't go for it.) His favorite thing to scratch is my very favorite, very old, and very fragile crazy quilt. When I lay down to sleep he uses my hair as some sort of burrowing, batting, climbing toy. Andrew calls him Evelyn. I call him Pestykitty.

But...he likes to snuggle with me. When I pick him up he purrs in a low, constant grumbly sort of way. He plays catch - I slide a block across the floor and he bats it back to me and waits for me to hit it back to him. He goes through the front door of Rowan's doll house and kidnaps the mom and baby. He collects doll house flower pots under a chair in our living room. He rubs his face on my face and puts his nose on mine and stares straight into my eyes.

The dogs are interested in the kitty, but don't seem to want to eat him, and other than a few one-sided boxing matches, where the kitty hits the air in front of their noses while they stand there wagging their tails they've gotten along just fine. One night Godiva and Evelyn slept on a chair together.

So...I want the kitty. And I can't have him. And I'm much sadder about that than I ever would have expected.

We broke out the window paint for our trip and our car was a rolling advertisement for fun, happiness, and unschooling (and how much D hearts A). On the highways and at hotels we saw people reading, looking either horrified or intrigued, and talking to the people they were with about it. In Asheville, NC we were stopped by a bunch of people on the street, and every reaction we got was positive. It was so much fun I decided to make it a more permanent addition to our car.

I went to thriftysigns.com to order a nice big magnet. One window in particular had gotten a lot of attention, so I used what was written on it and threw in a bit of advertising. (Kelly Lovejoy will be so proud of me!) When I realized my design was looking kind of bland I called in a professional, and Rowan took my words and made them look cool.

It'll be interesting to see what kind of a reaction ten words on a 12"x24" magnet will get in our little town.

HA HA!
the moon is made of cheese!
p.s this post was by Rowan

I didn't go looking for these (I can only imagine how many I would find if I did) and I'm not including any of the incredibly numerous teacher-sexually-abused-student stories I saw in my 1/2 hour on the computer last night.

Goths

Pink shirts

Shirt-tucking

Green hair

Cell phones

911

Reporter banned

Yearbook

'Missing' kids

Phys Ed

Play canceled

Toy gun

Heroin


Back to school? No thanks.

We're heading out to the Live and Learn Unschooling Conference, where there will be goofiness like this, but with lots more people.

We'll be back on the 12th. If you miss me while I'm gone you can read my sister's blog and remind her to take in my mail.

GREAT Shadow Puppetry - The best bloopers are a click away

This enrages me.

It truly does.

Really, there's no need for fancy concealed tracking devices in blazers. Why not just stick those handy ankle monitors on the kids?

And at the end of the article: knife-proof uniforms?? Who the hell can look at the problem of children being stabbed by other children and think the solution is knife-deflecting clothing? And what the hell does it do to a child's Self to have to wear a knife-proof uniform every day?

Children are stripped of their dignity, their autonomy, their privacy, and their freedom, and people are shocked that they're angry and resentful and violent.

It's insane and infuriating and very, very sad.

I'm going to have to publicly threaten and bribe Karen more often! We had a fun day with her and Timmy on Friday, ending with a trip to the beach where we met up with new and old friends. My camera's in the shop, but Amy and Luis got some great pictures.

In response to Timmy's mom's comment on my last post, I'm going to let a picture say a thousand words.

This quote was posted on the UnschoolingDiscussion list:

"There is, of course, this matter of being afraid to give freedom to young children. I believe they have that within themselves which makes it possible for them to meet the world and life, and interpret it more nearly aright than can we. They carry with them that inheritance of faith and imagination undimmed; and that tremendous surging desire to know, to see, to feel and to do, which is rarely betrayed. In our desire as adults to lay hold of a child's life, to grip it, mold it to our own values, we do unwittingly a great harm. We confront children with our own fears, our own lack of faith; to safeguard them we attempt to thrust between them and life those many false illusions which we have picked up in our own twisting, turning way. Children take a far more advantageous highroad. A free child is a happy child; and there is nothing more lovely . . ."

-- Ruth Sawyer, in her acceptance speech upon winning the Newbery Award for Roller Skates, 1936


We just got back from the park, where Maeve showed me her "moves".








Free. Happy. Lovely.

And quite dizzy.

An open letter to Karen

My dearest Karen,

I want to thank you for the many years of friendship and sisterhood we have shared. As I told you many moons ago, when I met you it was as if I had been seeing the world in black and white and was now suddenly seeing it in blazing Technicolor.

There is one little problem I would like to bring to your attention. Knowing me so well, you have probably already made an accurate guess!

Yes, I'm afraid I'm feeling that when it comes to your darling baby, you're a bit of a hog. What will it take to get you to share him with me, wench?!? Must I go through with the plan the squirrel mafia has proposed? Don't think I won't do it. And don't think for a minute we won't post a chipmunk at your 'escape window'.



In the spirit of peace and love, I'd like to offer an alternative to the potentially messy 'Operation Rodent' :

In exchange for the opportunity to play with Timmy (by which I mean you actually set a date and time - NO TIME MAGIC), I am prepared to offer you one pint of Habanero Peach Preserves, lovingly prepared by myself just yesterday.

The choice is yours.

Love and kisses,

Rue

P.S. Thanks so much for suggesting I post open letters on my blog!

Of Muppets and Men (Part 1)

Rowan's not going to watch this, I think because for her some things are better left unsaid (or unseen).

I was a big fan of the Muppets when I was a kid (still am) and I remember wishing I could see what went on behind and under the scenes. So for me this was really fun to watch.

For Rowan, here's a favorite quote from Kermit:

"I don't know who Jim Henson is, but I've heard he has his hand in a lot of things around here."

"Taking the kids back to school shopping soon? Here's one more item you can add to your "to buy" list: a bulletproof backpack."

"The backpacks weren’t due to go on sale until the start of the school year but Pelonzi brought the release date forward to Friday, days after a Herald review revealed how more than 500 weapons were recovered from Boston’s public schools in the past year."

Enough said.

Dagny's not home, so I took over as temporary flower photographer.






I didn't see the ant on the orange flower until I zoomed in on it. Does anyone know what kind of flower that is?

Rowan and I get a kick out of the sundial at the park.




It was placed right next to a huge tree, so it spends most of the day in the shade.