She is a tween. A drama queen. She likes Twilight and Camp Rock. The nails are done. The hair is fixed. The fashion is questionable. We are counting on her growing out of it.
She is sandwiched betwixt two of them (brothers, that is), and will kindly let you know she is unappreciative of the fact. She finds the "short one" to be occasionally annoying. She wanted a little sister, y'know. However, when all is said and done, I think she actually loves the little blighter. How many twelve-year-old sisters would otherwise be caught dead doing this?
I have been following Dana's coverage of this youtube.com phenomenon, and I was content to continue along that path until I received a mandate, an overwhelming mandate I tell you, from the 15-year-old demographic in this household to post it. It is exactly the kind of thing he and his goofy er, precocious friends would do. That is, if he had friends. He is homeschooled, after all.
(Removing tongue from cheek.)
So, here they are, those desperate, unsocial homeschoolers, in search of love...
(Not wanting to steal all of Dana's thunder, I will only provide the links. They are worth following!)
Yesterday afternoon, as I walked through the cold mist to my lovely green mini-van in my local Wal-Mart's parking lot, having just shopped yet again for groceries to feed my starving masses (Really, where do they put the stuff?), I reflected upon my life.
When I graduated from high-school I had hopes and ambitions. Those ambitions did not include a green mini-van. I would travel, I would change the world, I would be rich! And as I loaded the groceries into the side door of the van, the trunk being occupied with Salamander's camping gear that he still hasn't unloaded, I thought to myself, "What on God's green earth was I thinking? Three kids? Homeschooling? A mini-van?Where's my Porsche?"
Now, don't get me wrong. I love my life. I have a wonderful husband (who cheerfully hands over his paycheck to me on a regular basis, the fool), three happy, healthy, funny children, a roof over my head, food, in my stomach, a mini-van...But, but there are days...days when I wonder how I got where I am.
And then there are days like today. As the kids and I did the conga through the dining room to Buster Poindexter's Hot, Hot, Hot, as Tiger and I danced cheek to um, top of his head to Tim McGraw's When the Stars Go Blue, as the children worked on the their schoolwork with smiles upon their darling little faces and not one complaint exiting their lips...on days like today I think, "This is why I do what I do. This is why I'm here. This is the reason for the mini-van."
"Where do you go when you're lonely? Where do you're blue? Where do you go when you're lonely? I'll follow you..."
I go home. To my family.
The Porsche can wait. (And if it never arrives, that's okay, too.)
I homeschool my kids. And I drive a green mini-van. Who could possibly ask for more?