They Said You Can't Fight City Hall...So We're Suing Instead

The next time I hear anyone say something along the lines of oh say "Dirty Hippie, get a job" I just may break my streak of never raising a hand in anger to harm another person.

I'm starting this this statement because this week has stretched my poor family to the very edge. And we have loved each other surprisingly well under high emotion, immense stress, and bad for you food. Taking a stand and fighting The Machine is by far the most exhausting job I've ever had.

I probably have 12 posts from this experience of fighting to keep the Mayor from closing our school with less than 3 weeks to go in the school year. I've wanted to write out my feelings numerous times, but by the time I got home I was asleep on my feet. Ironically, this ugliness from the mayor's office has permitted me the ability to fulfill life long passions. I walked a picket line! I protested. I called political offices and wrote letters. I manned a table at a rally. I've volunteered and sat in on committees. I've made the paper once and the news twice. I did these things because I believe in this school and the I believe that we should be afforded all the rights the Constitution affords us. And tomorrow I'll sit in a Federal Courtroom waiting to hear the outcome.

In the mean time, I've had to look for possible other schools. All of which were lovely, but still made me cry at the thought of giving up the lovely holistic education my kiddos receive now. We have a traditional school already on stand by and I'm touring a private school (hallelujah for vouchers) this afternoon. I haven't been to the grocery store in over a week except to grab odds and ends. Emma swears she hasn't eaten since this started and the rest of us have had...wait for it...FAST FOOD! Yech. blech. groooossss. It's a very rare treat for us to eat fast food and even then I rarely eat it. My body is in full on revolt. Apparently, I'm not the only one protesting. The kids have loved it. I'm insanely bloated. I feel sluggish and none of my clothes fit. It's crazy how much damage you can do in so short a time. I feel exhausted with little desire to exercise or detox. Yet, I know I must or I'll feel like this forever. I'm not looking forward to how long it's going to take to shed a week and a half of the bad stuff. I have an old acquaintance from a Bible Study that is now doing detox body wraps. I may have to do this just to get a kick start.

Brandon is still hard at it with two jobs, so with all the time spent with the school stuff I vaguely remember what my spouse looks like. Plus, he developed bronchitis over the weekend. The doc is booked with some bizarre summer virus so looks like I'm going to be consulting The Big Book for some home remedies. (I've been working on a series of the miracles of baking soda and how to make your own cleaning supplies since I have so many people ask me about what I use, but that's gonna be a minute. I have found an awesome face scrub made out of oatmeal that made my face feel like a baby's fanny I'll share soon!)

In the midst of all this, I've left my salon. I rented a chair about 4 blocks away from my house and due to a miserable set of events including the drunk daddy of my salon owner scaring one of my clients, Brandon and I have concocted a way for me to be able to do hair out of my house without having to shove any one's head in my kitchen sink. As crazy as all this is, it couldn't have come at a better time since I have to be completely free to pick up and drop off two different kids at two different schools across the city from each other instead of up the street. Not to mention that I was only breaking even at the salon and now we have at least $250 a month in which to offset some of the potential school costs. Of course that is after we purchase some equipment for the house. So if you don't mind hanging out in my kitchen with coffee or having your hair rinsed in a chair that will lean your head into my bathtub then please come on over. Belle wants to know what I'll name the home salon...QuirkyGirl Salon of course!!

We also had NiNi hanging with us since Thursday. She's trying to move into this area, but her house is still in Ktown but her job is 50 minutes away on the southside of Indy. Mix in trouble with the new car and we asked her to bunk with us until her car was ready on Monday. My mom came on Saturday and stayed the night to go to church with us on Sunday, attend the First Annual Mosaic/ New City/ Indy Metro Church Picnic and Kick Ball Extravaganza with Belle and I, then give us some much needed support at the Save Our School Social. She also gave the money to secure Belle's spot at the back up school since we couldn't afford to dole out $130 "just in case".  So as you can see, we had a full house.

As if aaaallll that isn't enough we have added a new member to the cast of Clan Maxwell. I don't know if any of you remember my other blog (The Gratitude Project based upon my New Year's Resolution to be grateful) post about Stella Luna, the pit mix that adopted US but Stella's family was moving out and Brandon asked what they were doing with the dog. Low and behold, Stella came home. She's been trying to live her since February anyway. Every time she would escape this is the first place she'd come, so I guess it's only fitting this baby of a big dog is home to stay. Hey, why not throw one more log on the fire, right?

During the week I learned many things. How much this particular school and the community it's created means to me, how grateful I am that I have the husband I do who tells me he's proud of me for fighting so hard so something I feel isn't right, that it doesn't matter to me that my other half isn't the rally type, because he works extra hard so that I can be, that I'm teaching my children my ethics through action and not just word, that the kids in the Martindale-Brightwood neighborhood know that adults think they are worth the fight even when they belong to a neighborhood the city wants to pretend doesn't exist. There is one a large dark cloud looming though. If tomorrow the Federal Judge doesn't side in our favor, Lily is moving back to her dad's. She has stated from the get go that if she can't go to TPS then she'll return to her dad's to attend Greenfield Intermediate School. She's rather return to what she knows than to start another new school. This trumps the internship I have to turn down in the neighborhood butting up against the school's. This trumps losing teachers who love my kids. Or paying tuition when we can't afford it. This verdict means my child no longer lives in my home. So when so many people wonder WHY I'm fighting so hard. It's because this judge holds my family in his hands.

Please pray for us. Pray for the judge. Pray for God's will and our acceptance of it. Pray for Lily. This is not an easy decision and this time this move will be for the year not just 6 months.

The Project School Indianapolis Lament

This past week has been an emotional roller coaster. I can't even list all the things that have gone on...mainly because I feel on overload and can't remember them all. Highlights include getting quoted in the IndyStar, walked a picket line, shadowed at a new salon, and had two rough days with my husband. I'm spent.

 This is my children's school. It's a progressive school with project based education. Very similar to a Montessori type of learning environment. What makes our school different is that our motto: Heart, Mind, Voice is based on the idea that children need to feel safe in their environment before they are able to effectively learn. Sometimes that means you have to take care of their social and emotional needs before you can ever begin to take care of their educational needs. Amazingly enough, it takes very little time for the children that come here to realize that this school and these teacher and administrators are here for them. This is their school. This is a safe place where ideas are not laughed at nor are you made fun of for learning at different rates of speed or levels. As a parent, the beauty of this place for me is that it's a community. A place where my children are learning not just ABC & 123, algebraic equations and reading comprehension (which they are), but they are experiencing these things in practical ways that I didn't get the opportunity to in school. Things such as how each choice has a consequence and that sometimes manifests itself in unexpected ways i.e. my junior highers learning that your credit score effected things like your insurance rates or the ability to live in decent housing or how to change a tire (this was tied into geometry. the angle at which the car had to be positioned in order to do so and why)

The school is located in a converted factory where the very first V6 engine in America was produced. It was purchased and renovated 5 years ago in a time when economically it was almost impossible to do these things. Yet a loan was secured and each year they have been able to maintain and expand the property. Gym class is done in two different electives: sports inclined or walking which is done by taking them to various trails and cultural walkways all over the city. Music encouraged by the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra. Big City Farms volunteered to help with projects on Urban Sustainability and teachers paid for (out of their own pockets) for eggs to be incubated for our chicken coop. My youngest daughter learned of her love for the stage during her Passions Class taught by Mr. Justin from the Young Actor's Theatre of downtown Indianapolis because finding what you're passionate about is part of a well-rounded education.

I think what hurts my feelings the most are the lies. This school and these people are apart of my family. When someone speaks against my family they are speaking against me as well. That just simply can not and will not be tolerated. The above picture was taken at the Press Conference the school called upon learning via the media that our charter was being revoked for sub par test scores and financial mismanagement. The mayor's office failed to recognize that the 3M in debt is actually a mortgage. A MORTGAGE!!! Because we are a school of involved parents who refuse to give up on our school, we formed a peaceful protest & picketed the mayor's office on Friday.

I'm shocked and appalled. I'm hurt. With 2 weeks left before school was slated to start, where will my children go? I'm fearful to send them to our local public school. They came from a small farm community into this beacon of encouragement and support. IPS will devour them. Not to mention that I want project based/ reggio emilia inspired education.

I'm emotionally exhausted. The choices for our next year now hang in the balance. Friday I shadowed at a salon just up the street from the school and nine blocks walking distance from Em's high school so that the No Buses for charter schools wouldn't effect us. Financially, my husband and I need for me to return to work at this time. At least until my student loans are paid off. Now, I may not be able to simply because our other school options leave me no options.

I'm weary. The wait is killing me. The meeting started an hour and a half ago and I just keep praying, "Please, Mayor Ballard. Look at the over all good of this school. That children thrive and academically excel if given the two year grace needed to let the methods take effect." Actually, it doesn't even take that long. It's simply what we ask for so that as a school we aren't judged based upon the child's previous school's test scores. Would you like to be graded as a Mayor based on Bart Peterson's term?

Prayers needed all around, Sweet Readers. I have secured a place for Lily and Belle at Beech Grove Schools, but the $260 initial cost and pick-up schedule may seriously hurt this family financially.

I feel sick. 

The Big Book

I'm so very excited to share with you today a little prize I bought for myself Tuesday evening when I popped into Good Earth in pursuit of something to help Lily clear up some sort of poison something or other. The doc told her dad that the rash on her step-sister wasn't poison IVY, but it's poison vine of some kind.

So there I was, upstairs, in the apothecary's shop (my favorite part of the store. I have a secret desire to work up there and learn all the ends and outs of the various herbs and natural healing elements) asking the dude behind the counter for their reference book...again. It's all beat up and dog-eared and well used and oh-so-loved. Every time I'm in there and flip through it's pages I just wanna slip it into my bag and sneak off down the stairs with it. It looks so old that I just assumed like most things I inquire about it is no longer available.

EUREKA! It was on the shelf. New and current editions. Slightly more than I usually spend on anything for myself, but I really wanted this. Typically I am over whelmed with Buyer's Remorse every time I spend money on myself but this time... Baby, I am just STOKED! It gives herbal and traditional suggestions. Eastern and Western alternatives. It's arranged alphabetically according to ailment for quick reference. Anybody need some homeopathic reference material regarding everything from acne to yeast infections or various herbs and minerals hit me up. You can use my book anytime.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a licensed physician or pharmacist. I recommend seeking medical professional help in all cases. I do not offer advise or treatments of any kind and personally seek the advice of my physician before taking any and all herbal supplements. This is a method passed down generationally from my mother's side and I just happen to prefer it to Western Medicine. Please Please PLEASE do NOT say under any circumstances "Rachel Said to do...." I'm just a girl who loves me some natural products. 

Homeopathic Bug Spray

Sometime back, I started developing a serious conscience about the chemicals we immerse ourselves in during our day to day lives. Cleaning products jumped out at me with their lists of unpronounceable "ingredients".  So began my love affair with essential oils and homemade cleaning products and skin care potions. When I made this bug spray (much to the scoffing of Lily and B's screams for 100% DEET -the man has serious bug issues) I was also bombarded with numerous requests for the recipe if it actually worked! SUCCESS!!! Belle came home from camp with ONE bite. In fact, we all used it the weekend we picked her up and went camping and were bite free (: 

Recipe is as follows minus all the nasty neurological issues caused by extended use of commercial bug sprays. Plus, it smells good. Kind of like a woodsy perfume.

Homeopathic Bug Spray Recipe

Witch Hazel

Distilled Water

Essential Oils: Tea Tree, Lavender, Citronella, Lemon Eucalyptus

I make my spray directly in the bottle I'm going to be using. These are just small spritzer bottles I picked up for .99 in the travel section at Target. Fill half way with witch hazel and the rest of the way with distilled water. It's important that it's DISTILLED water and not tap or spring or drinking. Distilled water has been boiled to remove the minerals and chemicals found in common tap water and has not had fluoride added as in drinking water. The condensation from the steam is collected and this is what is bottled. It's the lack of these minerals and chemicals that allow the essential oils to be the most effective. Essential oils should be used with caution as too much can be toxic. However, I think it's condensed version I make that has a higher potency in this bug spray. I use 5 drops of each oil per spritzer bottle. I buy my essential oils at The Good Earth in Broadripple. They have a good assortment for good prices. However, if I can't find what I'm looking for (their selection is surprisingly limited) I go to Whole Foods. I have a few friends who buy theirs online, but I'm an instant gratification shopper. I want my stuff  NOW! If anyone has a link to a site with great prices please leave a comment. I'm always up for change in the sake of a good deal. Otherwise, shake and be bite free :)

** I do have one more oil that I myself have not yet added to my current mixture but I will! It's called Pennyroyal. I discovered it from a soap maker at the Farmer's Market Downtown. I bought his woodsman's soap while talking to him about a soap for my dog to help repeal fleas and tics. He had several "pet" soaps, but said I could use the Woodsman's Soap on the dog as well as us. (I bought it for our camping trips because my spray is not for tics. Repeat. NOT A TIC REPELLENT) However, adding pennyroyal deepens the hatred of skeeters and adds tics to the list. If adding pennyroyal oil simply use the 5 drop standard. WARNING: DO NOT USE PENNYROYAL IF PREGNANT OR NURSING!

Bday Aftermath or Let's Get it Started...(I don't know which...maybe both)

So 35 ain't too bad. It was actually a really lovely birthday all in all. Got new shoes, new make-up, free flowers from guy at Trader Joe's who was quite simply a messenger. Those flowers were from my Big Daddy. I saw them when I went into the store and thought "oh, how lovely. Those are the perfect 4th of July arrangement" and then they were mine :) And I got to go sweat my tuckus off at The Earth House Collective at a Josh Garrels concert to benefit Loving Accurately Ministries work with the AIDS afflicted in South Africa. AWESOME!

I think our birthdays are our own private New Year's. Soul Searching. Dig Deep. Personal Growth and Development Goal Setting Sessions. Couple interesting things have cropped up this year. Namely some unresolved anger issues which really is rooted in unforgiveness. yeeech. ouch. blaaaahhhh. It always stinks to think you are one type of person only to discover that maybe you aren't who you thought you were...or maybe you WERE that person and now realized that evolving isn't always for the better. But I would rather know than stay stuck in it.

Discipline is not a strong point for either myself or my other half. I'm just a very by the seat of my pants person. That or I typically have so many irons in the fire and seeing that I'm scatterbrained and haphazard by nature mingled with OCD let's just say that I flit from one thing to the next until I end up with 17 unfinished "projects" (which by projects I mean laundry and such). In my past I revolted at the idea of a schedule. Can you hear me scoff? No? Well that's because I accidentally discovered the sheer joy of creating a morning schedule for myself. Only I've let it slip as of late. Oh how I and the rest of my house has suffered because of that little tidbit.

My morning routine consists of quiet, coffee, the computer, and my bible. Some study time in the word. A Song o' the Day posting on my Facebook wall. Some recipe rummaging. Breakfast...It's my downtime. I never expected to be a morning person, but it really is a beautiful start to the day. So I'm signing off. I'm gonna do my Jesus: The One and Only study for women's group and let the love of The Master wash over me and uproot some nasty unforgiveness I've go going on. Then I'm gonna pray for my peeps. I'm gonna drink some coffee and let this day unfold...I'm thinking library time with Belle Girl and heading to Ktown to pickup my Lilliput who's been hanging with her granny for a week.

Request: Pray for Em this week. She headed off to camp yesterday all excited and reved up to go. Getting there she realized her camp week is quite small and most of the girls came in one large group kind of leaving her as the odd man out. I know she'll be fine as she always manages to find a friend quickly, but my heart was panicked when we left her yesterday. Please pray that God meets her this week and she gets what she needs to come back recharged and on fire.

Later Days, Babies~

Rach 

17 Has Turned 35...

The summer I turned 17 my mom was turning 35 that fall. We were in the car on our way to get my Senior pics taken when the John Mellencamp song Cherry Bomb came on the radio. We were laughing at the irony of the lyric '17 has turned 35'....but here I am. Sitting at my dinning room table and 17 has turned 35. I'm left wondering where did it all go? How did 18 years slip slide away?

I've always looooved my birthday. It was my favorite holiday and considering that it was butted right up against the national celebration of our independence I had, more or less, a two day party every year. I'm usually sad when it's all said and done and I have to wait a whole nother year for my day. Yeah. Not so much this year. I've tried to sort of ignore it....but that doesn't happen in this house. We are birthday people. I was raised with birthday people. My dad's birthday's were notorious and lasted with week long celebrations. Your life is unique and special and should be celebrated. It is a day that is just for you. This year, I'm feelin my age.

Except I don't! And there in lies the rub. I don't feel 35. When I was 25 I would've told you I felt 32. Now that I'm 35 I feel more like 25...ish...maybe 27....I've never been good with numbers. They don't tell you that part. Or maybe they do. You just don't pay attention because you ARE 25 and nothing really matters at 25 even though you think EVERYTHING is monumental. That the part that reaches up and slugs you in the jaw. My knees pop and catch and groan in the mornings. I need sleep now. Like for real sleep not the 4 hours I use to get by with. I'm going to bed by 11 or there's hell to pay tomorrow sleep. And I LIKE being up early...6 am early. When the house is quiet and my kiddos are sleeping. It's calm and peaceful....and clean. And my mother comes flying out of my mouth ALL.THE.TIME!! When did she move in there? Seriously? I didn't get the change of address card. My boobs aren't perky anymore. They're still better than some, but not like they were. And since I've quit smoking and got married I can't lose these 20 lbs. And another thing! What's up with DRY SKIN??? Which I do have to admit, I don't mind all that much. It was harder to moisturize when I had to degrease my face and now I get to slather it with like 6 different 'anti-aging' bunch of bullshit and sunscreen (which I should've embraced earlier) but the rigamarole of putting it all on is exhausting. Yet, in my head, I feel younger all the time. I feel lighter and more comfortable in my own skin (minus the 20 lbs of hangers on).

I thought it was the fact that B and I are going to have just one more sometime this year was what was freaking me out. Being 35 technically puts me in the "high risk" bracket (because hemorrhaging wasn't enough). After talking to the OB who said no worries until you're 42 that pretty much packed that away. Yet, the dread lingered like the taste of burnt coffee.  Maybe it was checking a different box....ya know, the one that now says 35 to 49!! Nahhhhh. My quote unquote box does not have the same effect has say our male counterparts and their euphemisms.

I think it's just vanity. Suddenly it all seems to have gone so fast. I look at my two older kids and think of a plethora of things I wish I could go back and change about being their mommy. Things I would do differently because I was young and parenting in the "suppose to". I was too hard on them. I expected too much. Maybe it's not so much vanity as regret. Like a dish that was overly salted. Not bad just not as good. I've never dealt with much regret. I just plowed forward and yes there are things I wish I'd have done differently, but this tastes different. There's a sadness that comes with regret. A mournful settling.

So this is what they mean by middle-aged. It's sort of like being a teenager again. I was hugging Lily that other day and smelling her hair. We were talking about how 13 is what I call The Ugly In Between Time. You're not a little kid and you miss some of that and want to stay there, but you're not big enough to do any of the other things you want to do either. 13 is haaaaarrrrddd! 35 doesn't look so different. I'm not young although I feel like it, but I'm no where even near old. It's a strange in between.

But I did read a quote a couple of days ago that I stumbled upon almost as if it were on purpose ;)

“In your 30's you can finally stop trying to be a 10 on the outside and work on being a ‘perfect 10’ on the inside. That's where your true beauty exudes from! It's an empowering time in your life because you begin realizing that we all age and wrinkle on the outside, but inner beauty is forever lasting! Oh yea, go ahead and embrace your quirks -- get over the size of your thighs and stop being so critical of yourself.” --Tiffany Hendra, beauty and style expert who teaches empowerment classes to underprivileged young women

So this is where I stand today. Just over the threshold of my 35th year. I'm going to clean out my closet and donate the clothes I've held onto thinking I'm going to get back into them (minus my favorite blue jeans of course). If I do. I do. If I don't. I don't. I'm not the number on the scale. I'm not the number on the tag inside my clothes. I'm not 22 anymore so I can stop trying to be a 10 because I already am. I love my quirks. I rejoice in my uniqueness. And since I'm an external processor, I'm hoping this post will allow me to forgive myself for areas I feel I fail.

Every year, I spend a little time with God going over my life. Where I've been, how far I've come, the people I miss, the ones still with me, and especially where I'm going. This year, my prayer is to make my desires align with His will for my path. So with a a deep cleansing sigh I say....

"I'm surprised that we're still livin/ and if we've done any wrong/ I hope that we're forgiven." - John Mellencamp Cherry Bomb

Camp

For all those who were inquired and patiently waited while the 8-year-old was the family guinea pig....Camp was a smashing SUCCESS!!!

When Em and Lil went to camp, I got to sit in a sweltering parking lot with a myriad of other parents waiting for a bus to belch out our children. Then it was sort through a zillion and one totes and sleeping bags and odd assortments of this and thats double checking to make sure you grabbed your own possessions and not some other kids all while your kid (and in my case TWO) told you 20,000 tales about their adventrues and screeched goodbyes across the parking lot to other kids as their parents where doing the exact same thing you are doing. By the time all the property is shoved and stuffed in the van (did I mention I also was a single parent at the time with a fascinated toddler who kept chasing her sissies across the death trap parking lot) you're completely exhausted and realize that the only thing the week they're at camp is for on your end is to recupperate from the drop off and gear up for the pick up.  All the excitement of getting to wrap your babies in your arms once more is lost in a sea of oozing black top and the lingering effect of sugar highs from the pixie stix at the canteen.

Going to Mitchell to pick Belle up at Spring MILL Bible Camp was a completely different experience. The counselors were the ones looking spent and ready for a long winter's nap. The kids had everything packed up and on their bunks waiting to be tossed into the chariot that would take them home...or in our case the State Park down the road for a days worth of camping and siteseeing at the Pioneer Village.

I didn't anticipate how antsy I would be. Sitting in the parking lot you have no choice but to well...wait. Knowing that the car was in a forward motion and acting propelling us forward to get Belle made me a toe-tapping NUT! I couldn't get there fast enough. Especially once we parked the car. We were half way to her cabin when B decided to just go back and drive the van around. I started walking faster and faster and faster until I was in a dead on sprint up the wooded trail to her cabin.  I mean I was bookin it, y'all. Bookin'. It.

Behind me I could hear my other two baby girls screamin "MOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!" Not stopping, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Belle Girl running full speed after me. I turned on my heels and started back DOWN the trail to my little slip of doll baby. By the time that girl got to me she was sobbing and tears were just rolling down her face. She croaked out, 'I missed you so much.' I liked to have died. My baby. The youngest. The littlest one that we sacrificed as the ginuea pig was a crying mess and hadn't been able to reach us all week. "Oh, Honey, didn't you like camp?!?" "Yeah, It was AWESOME!!! I just missed you." Insert toothless smile.

The next couple days were at camp this and at camp that. It was a blessed and fantastic first overnight camp experience for her. She can't wait to go next year. And I am pleased because Spring MILL is only $100 a week!!

And apparently, the food is excellent ;)

Later Days, Babies

Rach