School ~ Not Just For Kids

One would think that when you graduated from school you would be done with the rigors of learning stuff in books.  Nope.  Not so.  It continues. And continues.  And continues some more.  Sometimes the "learning" is actually the "teaching".  I know.  It doesn't make sense, but, really, it does. Make sense, that is.

Let's look at Math.  I don't know of any one of my grand-daughters that likes Math.  Me, I loved it.  And when you love something someone else doesn't care for it's hard to convince them how useful it is and will be.  Trust me, I've tried.  The only thing I can think of to convince at least a couple of them is the fact that they have an interest in quilting.  That alone will challenge your basic (if  not a little more advanced) math skills.  I told them they would have to know their basic fractions, multiplication and division tables, in addition to addition and subtraction.  Otherwise their quilts might look more like shredded wheat than - quilts.  We'll see how that translates.

Then we have Grammar and Literature.  Reading has always been a passion of mine.  I am pleased to see it in quite a few of my grandies (The Boy and My Squirley Girlies). Reading broadens your mind and creativity immensely.  Your imagination can be stretched beyond the decades and moments in time in a good novel . It's pages create wonderful places to be lost in.  Not to mention the vocabulary I learned. My youth was saturated with reading.  It became hard to devote my time to reading when my kiddlings were young.  Oh, I read.  Story books and such, but my books sat and waited, but that was ok. My babes  were only small for a time.  Then, when they became self sufficient and could read on their own, I was  able to welcome back my long lost friends.

Grammar, on the other hand is, well, challenging.  I like Grammar.  I still study it.  I don't understand today's lack of good grammar and the misuse of common, every day words. People, that's why Mr. Webster exists.  Or, if you don't like turning the pages of a "book", then google the word.  PLEASE.
I have the pleasure of critiquing papers for my college kiddos.  Not necessarily for content as much, but for grammar and sentence structure.  It's hard when basic foundations are soft and they haven't had much to build their grammatical skills on.  I get it.  I've had to critique elementary teacher's papers that were sent home.  If the teachers can't seem to grasp it, then how on earth are the kids suppose to?
Geeze.  And don't get me started on cursive writing.  Just don't

Then we have History ~ Nope.  Don't like it.  Don't want to like it.  Not because I don't care about historical facts, because I do. I just can't keep those dates and places in my brain.  It's like looking at a thousand stars and being expected to know their names and constellations.  Won't happen.

So I teach help with what I know.  I continue to use Mr. Webster (and spell check) quite often. When I sit down to clunk away on this keyboard, the only words that go down are mine, so I better know (kinda) how to use the words I write.  Otherwise, well, otherwise. . . . . . . .

Don't get me wrong.  I've seen my share of grammatical flubs in my writing, and it causes me great angst.  Sometimes I remember to correct them, and sometimes they just go down in the archives of faux pas.   You can correct me if you wish.  Or not. Either way, I'd still love ya.

Home Base

 According to Goldilocks:

"Mom-mom's house is home base.  When you are here no one can touch you.  Kind of like tag. It's where you go to be safe. They can chase you and hoover around home base, but they can't come onto home base.  You are safe.  But once you leave, you're fair game. Anyone can get you."

This was said to the Mama Bear yesterday while laying in my kitchen floor with her hands to her head in dread.  She'd been here since she got off the bus and dropped her things by Papa Bear's.  I knew why and watched the above scenario unfold after she told  Mama Bear her dilemma ~ as she had told me:

*Papa Bear got an email from Teacher stating her concerns about Goldi's academic situation.  Seems Goldilocks has been slacking a bit.  And. .  . she's had her phone on in class.  And Teacher had to rearrange seating for chatting reasons. Definite no-no's.  I scolded her about the phone and raised my eyebrows about the rest.  Apparently I didn't raise my eyebrows loud enough, because she told Mama Bear I didn't yell at her,  I just listened.  Oh, the joys of Grand-parenting.   But back to Papa Bear.  He texted our Little Goldilocks (while she was still in school) to say he had received the email and they would discuss it further when he got home. *

Thus the reason for the wringing of hands and the comfort of "Home Base". She wasted no time getting here, and stayed 'til the last possible minute.   Mama Bear wasn't any the more happy with her.  I felt like I needed to squirm.  Don't know why ~ . . . .  But I will say, I was glad I was on "Home Base" myself.  I did take the Mama and Papa Bear's sides.  We can't let our girl fall to the way side.  She needs to be held accountable. 

She got her phone taken away and she can't come to Mom-Mom's until her grades come up.  Now, WHAT did I do??  Seems to me she wasn't the only one to be punished here.  Yes, I am complaining, and whining.  And venting.  So much for taking the parent Bear's sides.  Pft. 

Oh, and in honor of today:  BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH!!!!
Who is your Brutus?!  I think mine is the Bear parents.