I am almost at the end. . .

of a science course. I took an incomplete in it and now I am nearing the finish line to complete the thing. I loved the course (it's on natural science) and I am ready to be through.

I took the statistics test last week and failed it, but I had psyched myself over it. I realized that I could have notes. I relied on them when I could have relied on the class. I make mostly B's on my homework, so I should have gotten it. I learned some valuable lessons about statistics. i did have a couple of profs who liked their 75% drop out rate, but this class is taught by a prof online who wants to make it as easy as possible. I could have gotten it and I had to do it the way I did.

Last week I had bunches of sick kids. I came down with the flu and a fever. I was crying in my sleep. I had it for two solid days-- the kids had it for maybe 24 hours and it was "lite."

I have been ready to gobble up my husband over the last month. He was ignoring everything with stuff going on at work. Over the last weekend, he called one of my friends over to the house and took me out and he kept pouring me Maragritas in spite of me having reacted to alcohol for the last few years. I'd have no reaction, and tempt fate with a glass of wine the next day. Did the naturopath's vitamin cure help me not get a painful rash on my feet, or was it something that she recognized as a mental thing that I could get rid of on my own and decided that I needed a placebo? Placebo or a vitamin working really well in just ten days, I am not complaining. I don't drink that often and Lent is about to start, so I won't know if it really worked. I am impressed with the reaction, but it must be a placebo. Two other doctors had seen this on my feet and had no idea what it was, but I didn't pursue it because they didn't know where to start and it wasn't killing me. I only treated it when I was tentatively invited to a wine tasting and I wanted to be able to enjoy it! Since I spent the same amount at the doctor's office that I would have for pink eye, I am lucky. I must say that I enjoyed chilling out and having a few drinks with my husband. He was being charming-- he has NEVER charmed me before and I must say that it was nice not having to be cerebral with him. He had better let me relax with him again! And soon! I need time to unwind and not get calls from the kids. He was funny-- he hasn't been funny in a long time.

My daughters are all growing. My 18 year old curled her hair and looks just like I did at her age-- but she looks better. My 12 year old looks like my 18 year old did six months ago. I had never confused them because they looked alike-- I'd confuse them because I was thinking of one and looking at the other with a third child's name on the tip of my tongue.

My sons are getting bigger, too, but they are looking more dissimilar. . . for NOW. I have reacquainted myself with old friends and (minus the colored hair) they look just like their parents did 20 or so years ago! My sons, slender as they are now, will be husky like their father in a few short years. (To them it is a lifetime away-- to us, it isn't long!)

I'm getting back to my science class and it will be over by next Monday evening. Then stats will resume for me, but I am not worried because 2-3 hours each night of them will get me through the class.

A Little Concentration Goes a Long Way

Today with time to focus and study, I got through most of a statistics chapter. I'm doing pretty well at it. I've not been able to concentrate like this in years. Like seriously, since 5th grade. I handed my husband my cell phone so no one but my mom or kids could call me and I communed with my numbers. It makes sense-- I don't know why I have such a hard time with it.

Darrin is awesome-- he is so patient with me. I have been building up in stress to this (Ropi, you and all of Hungary laugh at me!) and just been on the verge of panic for the last month, feeling like the sky would turn to stone and cave in on me. It won't. I kept saying, "I need to do my stats!" then curl up in bed and sleep. This wasn't lazy-- lazy means I go sketch or call my mom, or I procrastinate and do laundry or clean the garage. There are THREE stress reactions. While most people go into fight or flight, I fall asleep. Today I hurt so much, and for the past few days I have been hurting and couldn't sleep. I never thought I would be happy with a sore back!

I made the kids play with Legos and their puppets (quietly, but Mudd gave the princess puppet a light saber and calls her Princes Leah! Today she fought with a pig a few times, then Darrirn read them a story to act out, building Lego structures to go with it. Most of the kids are not feeling well so I wiped off the Legos with bleach water.

Tomorrow I plunge again. I expect to not do well on the test, but it's a mid term. It's OK, then I will wrap up my biology class but mid February and have the rest of the semester to work alone on statistics.

Did I really think I could do med school? I was crying about it today and DARRIN called my mom to have her talk to me and she said, "You can do anything you set your mind to! The problem is, you can't set your mind to anything that requires concentration for more than a half hour most of the time." Life is crazy-- I can't drop off and pick up where I was last thinking. It's so frustrating, but it's not about spazzing out... it's about staying as focused as I am able.

Sometimes I want to divorce Darrin-- in the forefront of my mind, I sometimes feel like he impregnated me six times when I already had 3 kids, so it's his fault that I am so strung out. (I could have also done the operation.) The problem is not the number of children; it's the dynamics that they all go through. Cloud and Basil have been fighting non stop for the past month-- she is almost 13, he is almost 10. This will last for a few years off and on. These two can be worst enemies one moment, then best friends defending each other the next. (They do a lot of push-ups for the things they do to each other and have started facing off and clapping between push-ups.) Anyone with 2 kids knows they will fight. The 3 tiny ones sing obnoxious songs and giggle, then Mudd antagonizes the girls and chases them through the house with a toy alligator! I fortunately see the humor in the midst of it, but dang-- can't I have a week-long divorce where I go to Vermont alone to cross country ski and hike? This nice thing is that when things are great and everyone is getting along I am also "blaming" him.

We have 9 great kids total-- the eldest 2 so far who he got through the hard math classes and the science classes, I sure couldn't have tutored them. They are surely better people for him. On days like today, I remember that he tirelessly works his tail off to support us, believes in what I want to write about, encourages me to write, calmly tells me to get back to work (OK, he sometimes yells and gives me bulgy eyes when I don't concentrate when he sits with me and helps me, but can you blame him?) on my stats, and he says when I get it, "Do you see? You told me you'd never get this an hour ago. Now you have it!" I caught him in a mistake today and he kissed me for it. I cry because I feel like I am doomed, then I "get it" and I cry because I got it. Thank a loving God that I only need one stats class!

"Are Mushrooms Kosher?" Random Thoughts While Doing Statistics

Today I am prepping for a stats test. I had to take an incomplete in it. The Temperamental Diva isn't running so I cannot say that my children had to be taken any place. They did, and I had to listen to them complain. My husband had to do some other running around and then got home and didn't want to go any place unless it was here.

I had to do my school work. While sitting here I have been yelled at by a very good husband who realizes that when my dad told him I would drain his patience, he wasn't joking. I resist so much, but I like it once I get into it. As I have studied, my husband has growled at me because of how my mind resists working. I have been working and just said whatever was in my mind, "Are mushrooms kosher?" "Can we assign an x variable to my thoughts?" Finally I just had to look up and he said, "TEA! GET TO WORK!"

If I like a topic, I practically teach the class. If I do not, I am a drain on my professors. I like statistics. As soon as I put the kids down for mandatory naps (including the older kids) I got things done.

My back is killing me. The weather is bad. I think I do better when resisting the pain. I tried laying down on our bed but every time I got up, pain shot through my back and legs. I have to sit at the table. I made stuffed peppers for dinner. I am doing it again. . .

Now I must get back to my work.

I think I'm getting it! ("It" is statistics.)

Right now I am learning about Joint and Marginal Probabilities. This was all learned back in 3rd grade-- it's fractions, decimals, and conversions. Math reduces everything to the most simple form. The problems are interesting: the book uses situations that are real life, such as weights and batting averages of baseball players on a certain team (it helps when I recognize names and I do not know why this is because I don't care about baseball.) Or they use horse race statistics and since I have a friend who breeds race horses I find myself thinking that I understand it better. It rates physicians by gender and specialty, then asks questions. Everything is "real." It is still a struggle because I am not used to doing this kind of thinking, but the relevance makes it tolerable. One of the stats classes that I failed used basic tables and wasn't current. For all we know, in two years the book that I am studying from will update with statistics on the present election.

Right now every spare moment is spent studying with a few where I get out and have some fun, but I get back to hit the books. My husband helps me more than anything, but since the house is quiet at night, I look forward to him being gone so I can spread my books all over the bed and stay up 'til 3AM working on them. I don't think that I have been this busy before, even when taking more classes. I keep thinking of the goal to be reached at the end-- as soon as I pass my second test in stats (there are three tests,) I will apply to grad school for the spring.

I feel like I can accomplish so much right now with this one class-- I don't know that I will be pleased with myself as in "I am so proud of me!" but there is a sense of pride with it. I knew I'd pass the English classes, the social work classes were a joke, but stats is another story. If the other classes that I have had have been sometimes tough, like steep hills, the statistics class is a cliff and I have a 50 pound pack on my back. Yes, I have to pass it with my husband's help and I don't like that I need his help this much, but it is getting DONE. I understand why this class is important for the degree even though my majors are English and psychology. Every time I work on it, I stretch my muscles a little more and I am better and stronger for it.

Having my husband teach me statistics is like him teaching me to drive-- I don't know why it is so personal and I get so emotional. I've always considered myself a math illiterate and it's embarrassing, but the more I do and further along in the book I go, the more I realize that I am not as ignorant as I'd thought.

Cheesecake makes Statistics Tasty.

Cheesecake makes statistics good
There's nothing finer
I live for these great math times

"For better or for worse, for richer and for poorer, and I even promise to teach you statistics if it's the last thing I get into your head."

My husband loves me. 15 years ago I was not driving-- my not driving laid some of the issues that I spent years getting over about my parents, so don't ask. My husband tried to teach me and we broke up. (My mother would eventually teach me. It was she who said that when I was scared that I was either too brave or downright mean!)

Learning statistics with my husband right now is trying on us. I started mauling his neck and he said, "No." I teasingly told him he wasn't a real man. He said that real men know that a sexy woman is one who understands statistics and can finish up her bachelor's degree so that they can pay for her to get a master's-- by the way, he asked, what was I thinking of for that MA? I went back to it. With every problem he was saying the steps with me. It is so frustrating to do this and to stay on task. He'd ask me questions as he flipped through the book, telling me to get familiar with the terms, relax, try again. My mind is spilling over with data analysis and probability. He gets excited talking about this stuff. I feel like I am four years old again watching the Watergate hearing on TV with my dad. I don't know what Darrin is talking about but I know that someday I will and it will be very, very important!

I have to get dressed up-- skirt, heels, uncomfortable clothes, so I pay attention. Otherwise I get sleepy. I have to stay with it, just a few more months. . . in between problems, I edit written assignments for the kids and help with their other work.

I just got an email from Cloud's teacher at her homeschool-- he works with her for an hour each week to stay on top of her math and he says that she is very fast at catching on. He apparently asked her if she ever clashed with her dad over math when he made her work hard and she said, "No-- that's what my mom does. I just learn it and get it done."