Why Homeschool for One Year? Reason...

In the next few posts, I am highlighting my best reasons to invest one year of your family's life in homeschooling.  Everyone may not be cut out for the full commitment of all school years, but taking a leap of faith for one year changed everything for my family.

Reason- 
Your kids will talk to you about school.

Before our one year homeschool adventure, it was like pulling teeth to get a detailed answer to: "What did you do at school today?".  Shuffling in the door, dropping book bags and heading straight for food, they answered, "Nothing much."

Nothing, but the world.  Nothing, but algebraic equations and the essay format.  Nothing, but the laws of gravity and the Declaration of Independence. Saying "nothing" implied: "Nothing you would understand, Mom.  What's for dinner?"

Today, after one year of my husband and I teaching our children everything from photosynthesis to the Pythagorean theorem, the kids spill everything.

"How was school today?"

"Mom, you're not going to believe what we did with Newton's laws of motion.  We performed two experiments, and oh! I need your help to make a balloon car that demonstrates Newton's law: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction."

Our fourteen-year-old shares activities and classwork never before surfaced in conversation.  She asks questions about math and listens to our answers (most of the time.)
Our twelve-year-old asks me to take him to the library to check out the next book in his current literary obsession and explains the plot to me in detail as I drive.
Our ten-year-old wants me to practice division facts while she enjoys her after school snack.  When she misses one, she listens as I explain different ways of getting the right answer.

So WHY does one year of homeschool get your kids talking about school?

1-They know you know about school.  Simple answer, but before we home schooled, our kids clearly understood that their parents went to school and even knew that we did quite well while we were there. But that was a long time ago.  What could possibly apply to their school world today?  After working day after day with the kids on everything from handwriting to marine biology, they have a deeper understanding of our knowledge.  They know we know and respect us more as a result.

2-They know you care about their education.  When we quit our jobs to dedicate one year of our lives to teaching and traveling the world, our kids registered the significance we placed on their education.  I'm not saying the only way children will feel you care about their education is through home schooling.  Obviously, many parents stress this importance daily in overseeing homework and attending open houses, conferences and PTA meetings. I simply mean that I discovered the quantity of time spent with my child over specific lessons in math or history created a bond between us that I never expected.  Their doubts or questions about what we expected of their learning disappeared.  They know we are willing to go to any lengths to prepare them for life on planet Earth.

Talking about school may seem a banal or trite reason to home school.  Some may say a whole year is an enormous sacrifice for such a minute accomplishment.  I know that one year helped me discover the joy in little things... like talking about school with my kids.

Reasons to Homeschool for (at least) One Year

My Two Cents

If you've read my blog, you know my husband and I quit our jobs and took our kids out of public education to homeschool and travel for one year.  Would we have liked to live this fantasy life longer? Of Course!  But life goes on... We must feed and clothe the children, as well as, educate them so back home we went- back to jobs, back to school, back to reality.

As our reality progressed, I realized we continue to reap the benefits of our one-year homeschool experience with our kids.  Our family's dynamics changed forever from that year of constant companionship.  Although our kids are back to the grindstone of public education and we experience the frustration of putting our kids development in the hands of others, I know we created a bond with them that will enrich our relationships for the rest of our lives.

Many parents have spoken with me about our experience.  The homeschool parents are interested in our travel curriculum, but can't believe I only home schooled for a year. (Their manners dictate they thinly veil their horror of us returning our kids to public school so they aren't rude- just a bit incredulous.)  Other parents are envious of our time off from work- wishing they had the funds to enable their family to take a year off with their kids.  I understand both points of view.  To the homeschool parents I say, "We wish we could continue, but we have to feed the kids."  To the public school parents I say, "We sacrificed a lot to enable our one year family sabbatical, but it was worth it."

Both sides ask me, "What's the point of home schooling for only one year?"  

The answer to this question is my platform for societal reform (Yes, I believe some parents need a wake-up call!)  I want to share with the world how our home school travels have shaped our family life.  

Stay tuned to read about reasons to homeschool for only one year.  Perhaps, your family life could benefit, too. 

Christmas Visions

While children have visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads on Christmas Eve, mothers have visions of children's faces lighting up as they open their long-wanted gifts, or visions of smiles erupting into laughter as the kids attempt to create the perfect gingerbread houses, which collapse from the weight of the gum drops (oh, well, more to eat) or visions of loved ones singing carols and eating and drinking good food with good cheer.

Those visions are what keep us moms going... through the crowds, through the flu, through the bills, through the mess, through the tears.  Christmas visions of happy children and a loving family always keep us going.

After the flu, we finally made it to see Santa

On this Christmas Eve, if you're tired from shopping and cooking or haven't recovered from the flu (like me) REMEMBER: if it takes a little imagination to embellish your reality - so be it.  Use it.  It's a gift from God, too.  Keep the happy visions.  Remember the smiles and forget the tears.  and always Love All. 

Author-Self-Portrait
(I always want to look like this at Christmas so
I'm pretending as my present this year.)

I end with one of my favorite Christmas poems by Roald Dahl... I hope it brings you a smile:

Where art thou, Mother Christmas?


Where are thou, Mother Christmas?
I only wish I knew
Why Father should get all the praise
And no-one mentions you.

I'll bet you buy the presents
And wrap them large and small
While all the time that rotten swine
Pretends he's done it all.

So Hail to Mother Christmas
Who shoulders all the work
And down with Father Christmas
That unmitigated jerk.

- Roald Dahl

The Chore Jar

As kids get older, parents have many mounting problems to deal with.  The two rearing their ugly heads in my home are:

1. How to keep the house clean around these filthy urchins who have the nerve to snap at you as you block the latest Phineas and Ferb episode while carrying fifty pounds of their laundry.

2. How to effectively punish the smart mouth who dared to say, "Move!" 

As they say, “Necessity is the mother of invention."  Years ago, I came up with a great punishment system to help with cleaning and quieting the back talk: The Chore Jar.  One quiet afternoon, while the kids were away, I calmly wrote a list of common household chores: dust baseboards, clean mirrors, scrub bathrooms, vacuum, etc.  I cut the list into chore strips, folded them up, and placed them all in a Mason jar labeled with white duct tape- THE CHORE JAR.  Placing the jar in the center of the kitchen counter, I explained to the kids the new rules.  If they got in trouble at home, at school or anywhere in-between, they would pull one or more chores from the chore jar.  

When Wyatt bonked his sister testing his new bat in the car on the way to baseball, the living room furniture got dusted.  Anabel rolled her eyes at me one too many times, and suddenly, I no longer resembled Krusty the Clown after applying my makeup, thanks to my new, clean mirror.  Emma ripped up my new flowerbed when she decided to go off-road with her Barbie Jeep, and I got a fully mopped kitchen floor.  I began watching them like a hawk hoping that one slip-up would get me clean toilets.   

Me before a clean mirror (and coffee.)

My favorite thing about our chore jar is it takes the anger out of  punishment.  I hate the confrontational feeling of yelling and lecturing the kids about every infraction.  Though we have never spanked our children, my anger would lash out and bring down the punishment hammer with an unrealistic sentence that meant nothing because the kids knew we had no follow-through.  Who can see “no television for a year” through? What parent can seriously carry out “a five-year grounding”?  What Mom would “never cook for ungrateful kids again”?  With the chore jar, the consequences of their crimes had been dispassionately thought out and written down.  It became the luck of the draw to the severity of the penalty unless someone stacked the deck.  

One day, I noticed I had the cleanest living room windows, but disgusting bathrooms and impenetrable closets.  The kids' behavior had been just as wretched as before, so why weren't these areas getting cleaned?  I realized the kids had been placing the easy chores on top. Well, two could play that game.  

When Wyatt went down the street to his friend’s house without telling anyone, I grabbed the chore jar before I got him and stacked the deck.  Floating on top was the closet cleaning assignment. When he drew out “Clean out your closet,” he went completely boneless- collapsing to the ground in a nine-year-old puddle consisting of hair, t-shirt and shorts.  I smiled.  He had been “cleaning” his room for months by shoving everything into his closet.   I had to stay in his room for three hours supervising the chore, but it was worth it. Cleaning his own mistake taught him three important life lessons: hiding a mess doesn’t make it go away, never leave the house without telling someone, and never try to pull one over on Mommy. 

The downside to the chore jar method for household cleaning is its lack of reliability.  Wouldn't you know my little devils caught on fast. They started cleaning up after themselves, stopped fighting and finished their homework on time.  It would seem a mother’s trials and tribulations never ended. 

If anyone out there would like help setting up their own family chore jar, please let me know... it's the least I can do to help keep America beautiful (homes and attitudes, that is.)

Reflections on Our Sabbatical Year

What did they learn?

One year ago today, we left our home and headed out on a grand adventure.  (See last year's blog post.)  Our main goal:  to spend more time with our family by traveling the world.  We accomplished that, but still I wanted more.  All year, I was reminded of the great rush of time regardless of my attempt to snatch a quiet year to tell the kids all the things I want for them. I intended to teach the kids more than reading and math, but we got stuck solving for X a lot more than I planned.  Looking back, I'm not sure I conveyed everything to them, so here are the lessons I learned from our year; I hope the kids picked them up through osmosis.

Don't grow up too fast.  Childhood is a precious gift to be vigilantly guarded like the Beefeaters protect the Queen's Jewels.  We only have one childhood and those that rush it tend to return to childish behaviors that were never fully experienced.  Childhood is for pretending you're an adult- trying it on for size. 

"Do I want to be a doctor when I grow up?  I'll cover my dolls in bandaids and stiches to see." 
"Maybe I want to be a Vet.  Where's the dog so I can hear his heart beat?"
"I've got to pay the bills. Where's the checkbook?  Let's see ten dollars for the house, five dollars for the car."

Childhood does not know how much a house costs or how much a job pays.  It's about dirty feet, catching frogs and snuggling with Teddy.  It's about catching a flyball, licking a popsicle and not caring that you're covered in mosquito bites.  It's soaking up information like a sponge and eavesdropping on adult conversations while not understanding a word of what they say.  It's putting your bathing suit on when you wake up and not taking it off until time to put on your pajamas.   Responsibility applies to homework and competition refers to the next baseball game.

Only you can make you happy.  I don't know how to teach this, but I try to show it everyday.

Please be a Sue Heck.  It's cool to be uncool.  Hug your parents in public and tell your brother and sisters that you love them.  Don't worry too much about popularity.  Trust me, you do not want to peak at thirteen.  Hold on to your beliefs and feel confident to speak about them.  Never give up on yourself.  Try new things.  Share your love of God and talk about him openly.  Laugh when something is funny and cry when something is sad.  Look people in the eye when you talk to them. Sing along to your favorite songs.  Don't be afraid to dance in front of others.  (I know this last one will be the hardest.)

Be proud you're an American.  Get choked up when you sing the Star Spangled Banner.  Feel your chest tighten when you say the pledge of alligence.  Love the world, but be proud of who you are and where you come from.   Know the history of your country and share it with others.  Know the presidents' accomplishments and remember they are only human when you study their failures.  Believe that you could be one, too, someday- even in this day and age when it seems that only billionaires and club members may join. 

Don't think you're better than others; just different.  People come in all shapes and sizes, in different colors and with varying beliefs.  If you are confident, you are beautiful.  Be tolerant of others' thoughts and dreams.  Remember that we are all neighbors on the planet Earth and try to love your neighbor.  Follow the Golden Rule and the middle path.  Treat others the way you want to be treated and demand others do the same.  Have compassion for those less fortunate.  Whether someone is having a bad day or a bad year, say something nice and try to leave someone feeling better after you have met than before you arrived.

Great adventures usually start with a UHAUL.

If I could be sure all these lessons were sinking in during our travels, I wouldn't worry about that  Pythagorean theorem stuff a bit.   When I was a child, my mom always said, "These are the best years of your life!"  I would have to argue with her now.  I don't know if this was the best year of our children's lives, but I think Greg and I agree- it was for us.  I thank God we had this year, but don't think the best is over by far.  I look forward to the future.  Life is good.

A Lost Wallet

I have an ethics question for you: If you found a lost wallet, would you return it to its owner?  Imagine the wallet had no identification and contained $174 in cash and a $50 gift card.  Would you think such a careless owner deserved to be taught a lesson and therefore, feel justified in spending the money?  Or would you secure it in trust that the owner would eventually show up?  If you chose to hold on to it for safe keeping, how long would you wait?  A day? Two?  How about a week?

Our son recently experienced this moral dilemma, but from the other side; Wyatt lost his wallet.  Just before leaving for England, he had purchased a brown, leather wallet and against his parents instructions, put all his eggs in that basket.  His eggs amounted to $200 of grass-mowing, chore-doing, birthday-gifting and allowance-saving money.  Tenaciously, he kept the wallet secure throughout the UK, but became lax after returning home.

Our first Saturday afternoon back home, Greg took the kids to Publix for groceries.  Planning to buy a $1 bag of Skittles, Wyatt grabbed his wallet on the way out the door- because an eleven-year-old boy must bring all his money, obviously, for that "just in case" purchase.  He wore an old pair of shorts with a small pocket, but by stuffing the wallet in, he managed to make it fit.  So what if it hung out a little?  On the way to the store, his sister had a nose bleed- because nothing is easy when taking your kids anywhere- even to the grocery store two miles away.  Greg pulled into the nearest convenience store and sent Wyatt inside for napkins.  With everybody relatively clean and blood-free, they proceeded to Publix.  After walking up and down every single aisle in the store at least five times- because that's what kids do when they go to a grocery store- the party was ready to check out.  Wyatt reached for his wallet to buy his Skittles and discovered it was gone.  He, of course, told his parents all this... ONE WEEK LATER!

Greg and I were crushed for him.  How do you explain to your kids that the world is not an honest place?  I figured it was best to just rip the band-aid off and be blunt.

"The wallet is gone, Son.  If you had told your dad the minute you realized it was missing, we might have found it.  But losing it in one of two high-traffic areas, over a week ago, makes it impossible."

Call me a cynic, but I believed what I said.  The tears flowed... from Wyatt and me; Greg somehow managed to hold it together.  We gave Wyatt a stern speech on respecting money and explained that part of being responsible meant not just spending wisely, but keeping the money safe.  We said, "We told you to keep your money at home and only put five dollars in your wallet.  If you're not responsible with money, the world will take it from you- one way or another."

For Wyatt's sake, I called Publix and spoke with someone in customer service.  She kindly told me what I already knew: no wallet had been turned in.  Greg looked up the number to the convenience store, but we didn't know the new name.  My dad had built the store twenty-five years ago and called it BJ's for Bobbie and Johnny's, my parents' names.  It has changed hands a couple of times since so I had no idea what to look up in the phone book.  Feeling deflated after my cry, I used a trip to the store as an excuse to get out of the house for a little while.

The store was packed for a rainy afternoon.  Only one employee worked the rush so I waited in line to speak with her.  When I reached the counter, I was brief.

"Hi.  My son was in here last week and lost his wallet.  It was brown leather and had a lot of money in it, but no ID.  He just told us about losing it.  Has anyone turned one it?"

"I don't think so, but I'll check.  Do you want to leave your name and number?"

"I doubt it will do any good," I replied as I wrote down our information.  She rang up the next customer as I thanked her and walked back to my car.

Before I got home, a miracle happened.  The store clerk called and told Wyatt (who answered the phone) that she found his wallet a week ago and had put it in the safe and forgot about it.  She assumed the owner would claim it soon.  By the time I got home, Wyatt was jumping for joy.  Greg and I stood in shocked disbelief.  Honestly, I didn't know how to react.  Part of me was thrilled that an honest person was still out there, but another part of me was kind of pissed.   I mean, how was this going to teach Wyatt to take care of money?  Isn't that awful!  Wyatt was dancing a jig and instead of dancing with him, I wanted to make sure he understood how rare this was and how lucky he was.  Instead of celebrating this moral exemplary person who found his wallet and kept it safe, I chose to be dour.  Why was it hard to be happy that someone did the right thing?  I think it's because sometimes (Dare I say it?)-  being a parent sucks.   Sometimes you get so caught up in teaching a lesson that you miss the point of it.  Say your kid gets an A on a test without studying.  A parent can't say, "Good job! You must have listened and participated well in class." Oh no.  A parent must say, "You lucked out this time.  Classes get harder so you better study next time."  With the burden of the future ever looming, I forgot to celebrate the present- the gift of an honest person.

When I came to my senses, I called to thank her.  I told her what an amazing thing she did by keeping the wallet safe for my son.

"I knew it must be a kid's wallet because it had no identification in it.  I have a three-year-old and I know if it were his, I'd want someone to turn it in for him.  I put it in the safe and forgot about it after no one had come looking for it."

We kept talking, discussing ethics.  We both agreed how hard it was to find honest people these days.  Then we made a strange connection.  I told her that my father built the convenience store where she worked and her heart opened up to me.

"Johnny is your father?  I used to be in love with your brother!  I came in the store at least five times a day to see Chris smile.  I was only fifteen, but he was always so nice to me.  I hated what happened to him, but you know drugs are hard to kick.  I was an addict for six years, but have been clean for over three years since I found out I was pregnant.  I feel great, but I struggle with it everyday.  I think of Chris when I'm working here and wish he'd been able to get off drugs, too.  Thinking of him helps me stay straight."

I said, "Well, you're obviously a good person and respect yourself now.  You've done a very nice thing for Chris's nephew."  I admit I was a little choked up as I said it.

On our way to pick up the wallet, Wyatt asked, "Can I give the lady a reward for finding the wallet and keeping it safe."

"I think that's a great idea."

"Would twenty dollars be okay?"

"Perfect."

Back to School

As Anabel, Wyatt and Emma stepped on the school bus this morning, I choked back my tears.  Our dream year is officially over.  Sitting at the computer, completely free of distractions, I feel despondent.  And incredulous... I can't believe I am feeling this way.  How many times last year did I think how much easier it would be to let someone else shoulder the weight of the responsibility of educating my kids? But now that it is here, I am filled with sadness.  I see where Anabel gets it- I don't transition well.

Maybe I am conflicted because this is the first time they have gone to school without me.  As a mom and a teacher, I had the luxury of seeing the kids during their school day.  I could stroll into the lunchroom for an encouraging smile or wave.  I could casually glance in their classroom doors and get a glimpse into their school worlds.   When Anabel was in first grade, I remember spotting her standing in line after lunch.  She was whispering and giggling with a friend, and then, turned to quietly follow her teacher.   A boy sauntered up in front of her, but she tapped him on the shoulder and confidently pointed to the back of the line.  Head down, he returned to his spot.  It was a beautiful site to see.  Today, I am home and ignorant to it all.

Emma-confident with her new glasses

I know this is part of the growing up and letting go phase of raising kids.  Parents must transition with their kids to foster healthy relationships.  I've taken all the child development classes and read all the books.  My kids are 13, 11 and 9- not babies anymore.  They were thrilled to be returning to regular school- complete with the sleepless anticipation of the night before the first day.  They are transitioning well.  Why am I such a basket case?

Homeschool's Downside

Pajama Math 101

Homeschooling three kids in three different grade levels while traveling the country is a great idea, but the words that have popped in my head all year are:  What was I thinking?

Having taught school for 15 years, I actually thought homeschool teaching would be a breeze.  Reading my earlier posts about rolling out of bed around nine to start the school day in pajamas, hands-on science and social studies lessons and creative arts and crafts, I realize I conveniently left out the downside.  And there is definitely a downside.  For all the laughter and lighthearted fun we've had educating our children, I'm not sure it outweighs the mantel of responsibility constantly around our neck; there is no one to turn to or blame, but yourself, if they are behind in school, and there is the shame of admitting that missing your children is part of the enjoyment of being with them.  I have no regrets about our great experiment, but I know that I am a one-year-homeschool-teaching-mom.

Okay.  Just writing these thoughts down makes feel me racked with guilt.  Let me explain...

Stress - Structure = No Fun

I think I've established that I love my children and I love being with my children.  But I used to look forward to being with them.  I always planned special outings or activities that I thought we would enjoy together.  Holidays were the best with sharing traditions and decorating the house with homemade crafts.  I could sit for hours putting glitter on snowflakes or cutting out pink and red hearts.  I perused Martha Stewart Living and Disney's Family Fun magazines looking for the perfect item to make, bake or recreate with my kids.  Each month's delivery of those magazines had me dropping everything to turn the glossy pages feeling certain our creations would look just like the art department's airbrushed production.

Try cutting up a cardboard box...it's a "Good Thing."

Nurse's station 

But with the weight of homeschool, our special creative time has fallen by the wayside.  We spend hours together differentiating between a proper adjective and a predicate nominative or fighting over the correct way to find the circumference of a circle.  When we are finally finished with reading, writing and arithmetic, no one, parents and children alike, is interested in attempting Martha's latest "Good Thing" or Disney's 7 Little Things that mock us with their weekly emails.  Homeschool may have free tuition, but it definitely has a price.

Not gourmet, but it makes a mess just the same.

Then, there are the dishes.  Home schooling means home cooking which leads to home cleaning.  When I contemplated the implications of homeschooling I never considered the amount of daily cooking and cleaning required.  Cooking two to three meals a day plus snacks and beverages translates to a lot of dirty dishes.  During our regular school and work years, we ran the dishwasher every two days.  This year, we average two loads per day.  Thank heaven for a dishwasher!  Hand washing would have had me tied to the sink or completely deplete of cash from doing as Miss Yvonne did on Pee Wee's Playhouse: 

"Once I let the dirty dishes pile right up to the ceiling!"

"What did you do then, Miss Yvonne?" asked Pee Wee.

"I bought new dishes." 

Hands-on Science

Six Mile High School

Learning Debris

We are now in our final days of home school.  Knowing all these petty life details will fade into a distant memory, I feel the need to share my honest thoughts while fresh in my mind.  I have no doubt that I will reflect happily on each moment of our year spent together- our year of family unity and security- without too much of the outside world's opinions and restrictions.  Next year, when our family is knee deep in project assignment due dates, nightly homework, baseball practices, friends' sleepovers and dance recitals, I will laugh that I ever complained about dirty dishes and NOT missing my kids.

Feeling Froggy

The Hammerz

I write to keep busy, to stimulate my brain, to communicate with friends and to record our experiences for our children.  Greg plays music for all the same reasons.  He has played in a band for twenty-five years which is to say- longer than I've known him.  Music is who he is, what he does, and how he communicates with others.

My Musicians

As music teacher of our little home school academy, Greg's lessons include guitar tablature, voice harmonies, piano chording and drum beats and fills.  While the girls have shown growth in voice lessons, Wyatt has soared at guitar.  His latest assignment was to learn the opening guitar melody for Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here.  As his academic teacher, I wish he put as much effort in his writing as he has in learning that song.  All I'm saying is: he could be the next Shakespeare if he worked on writing like he works on guitar.  Greg definitely struck a chord with Wyatt.  They speak a foreign language that I will never understand and that's okay.  The father/son bond was always strong, but now they share a secret that makes both pairs of eyes light up when they're discussing it.  It is extremely awesome to watch.

New Faces, New Friends

Greg has done more than teach music to the kids this year.  He has used his musical talent to make new friends.  For a boy who grew up knowing everyone in town and playing and writing songs with guys he's known for over half his life, that's saying something.  Apparently, you can teach my old dog new tricks.  As a non-musician, I am in awe every time I watch Greg play or sing, but I am speechless witnessing him step out of his comfort zone to meet new people and play new songs.  I mean meeting new people is hard enough without the added element of performing, right?

Jamming at the Foolish Frog

Sometime in early December, I saw a sign that read, Jam Session Tonight, at a fabulous local restaurant, The Foolish Frog, in Frogmore, SC.  I knew Greg was missing playing with other musicians so I suggested we go check it out.  As we walked up under a tree tunnel of live oaks and spanish moss, we heard the sweet twang of a banjo blending with the strum of a guitar coming from the marsh deck.  We rounded the deck wall just as someone started singing, Friend of the Devil.  Pulling out his guitar, Greg jumped in and hung on.  Mr. Darling would have been proud.  From that night on, if you're looking for us on Tuesday nights, you'll find us at the Frog.

Frogmo' Fo at Nippy's

While continuing to record a new album with The Hammerz, Greg's new acquaintances at the Frog have led to gigs with new bands.  He is now a member of the Frogmo' Fo which was initially three members and has grown to six; I have no idea were the "Fo" came from... I'm thinking someone only counts beats.  With Greg on drums, Kirk Dempsey on guitar and vocals, Adam Granade on bass, Tom Davis on guitar, Tim Devine on guitar, and Steve Johnson on trumpet, the band's next show is May 11th at Nippy's in Downtown Beaufort.  Between practices at the Dempsey Farm's Juke Joint (Kirk and Elaine's garage) and the actual performance, there will be many nights of entertainment to be had by all!

What a Smile!

New Groupie Girls

I believe life is sweeter with a soundtrack (I even created a special playlist for this year) and I've been fortunate to have an in-house musician to play our background music for almost 23 years.  Who needs an iPod with Greg and the kids around?  The icing on the cake is the new friends we've made thanks to that music.  I have new groupie girls to hang with, new playmates for the kids and new shoulders to lean on in times of trouble.  No worries...