Epiphany

**Note - this post was written in late May, but never posted.  (No idea why)  It expresses lots of good stuff for a homeschooling parent to ruminate on, so I thought it worthwhile to set it free...

Yesterday morning, in the midst of the chaos of baking muffins, answering email, finding clean underwear and pouring grape juice and then cleaning up spilled grape juice, I had a thought come to me.  Well, several, actually.  The thoughts were like teeny tiny droplets of water that were spread out over a leaf, and then the leaf was disturbed and all the droplets fell victim to gravity and rolled down toward the center of the leaf, gathering speed...

I had planned, so very carefully late last summer, to dump any unnecessary or unfulfilling obligations, clear the decks, free up our (my) time and let homeschooling take center stage.  I sought out an ally - Calvert, to help me do this.  I let Calvert dictate the schedule, the process, the content and so forth.  I let the teachers work with my kids, they took tests, did assignments and got grades.  It actually has been a good experience - mostly for Jordan.  It allowed him to really grow as a student this year, his writing skills, planning skills and organization skills are getting a workout, and we both feel he is ready.  He is ready to take on public high school next year, a transition that is right for him and for me.

For Rylan and Owen though, the experience has been difficult.  Rylan loves the social aspect - the twice-a-week online classes complete with chat box, but hates, HATES, H.A.T.E.S. the school work. Rylan is not the complete-a-worksheet sort of learner.  She loves projects, she loves to write, and she takes initiative  - - when she is inspired.  Otherwise, she curls up into a ball, faces the back of her chair, and all of sudden her head is simply too heavy to hold up.  Same with her pencil.  In Owen's case, he is in la la land.  He fiddles with everything within arms reach, ignores any requests that involve moving a pencil on paper, yet he has this irritating gift that he hears everything you say even though you think he took a mental vacation to who-know's-where, and can repeat it back to you, word-for-word.  Owen also has a gift of finding patterns in everything.  Math with be a breeze for this kid.  But he also finds patterns in language - surprising me at every turn.  This is also the boy who can't tell a 'b' from a 'd', or a 'p'.

Which brings me to my epiphany that I had this morning.

We are slogging through the last four weeks of school.  All three kids are finishing up projects, have tests to take and so forth.  Both Rylan and Owen take the STAR test.  They took it at the beginning of the year, then again at mid-year, and now they have to again at the end.  Since we school at home, the teachers send us a link to get into the test, and we are supposed to take it within a two week window. When we did the tests before, I followed the teacher's directions and once I was sure the test was started and they were in good shape, I left the room as I was instructed to.  I know what the STAR early literacy test is, I had my own students (back when I was teaching in public school) take it and so forth.  But here is the rub - at every opportunity, the kids were wearing headphones.  I never heard the audio that goes on during test.  This time, since I was curious and the house was unusually quiet, I unplugged the headphones during Owen's test so that I could watch and listen.  OMG.  

This.

This is why we made the decision to homeschool in the first place.  This is why I hate testing and lost my teaching job because of it.  Testing is so fucking stupid.

Here is why I am pissed.  All year long, in Owen's case, we have been working on learning the alphabet, phonemes, beginning sounds, ending sounds, vowel sounds, blah, blah, blah.  It is presented in the same fashion, every time.  I am supposed to present it a 'certain' way, much like reading a script.  Occasionally I would vary it if we were working on a Bob book or something, and Owen worked on Reading Eggs as well, which adds a ton of variety.   But when it comes to the test... oh the HELL NO.  Here is a sample:  The question shows three boxes, with a word in each box: 'lip', 'cat', and 'jet'.  Then there is a word printed at the top - "sit".  Then an annoying voice says, "Which word has the same middle sound as in the word "sit"?  Okay, - yes, this is a good question.  But the presentation, the multiple skills involved at decoding, phoneme matching and selecting are all really complicated to begin with - for a beginning reader.  Also, never in the lessons has isolating the middle vowel sound ever been presented in this way, so this is totally new to him.  Furthermore, the annoying voice only gives you 10 seconds to think about it and then it asks you again.  And again.  And again.  Even I was thinking hard and saying "SHUT UP!!!! LEMME THINK!!!!" inside my head.  Poor Owen.  It was the same scenario in Rylan's case, too.  And it was question after question, just like that.

I already know what their strengths and weaknesses are, I hate that I have to put them through this.  Yes, I want to see benchmarks met and check for growth, but if they can successfully do something this week that they couldn't do last week, that's good enough for me.

I've had a lot of brief conversations with other homeschooling friends lately, they know I am struggling with Calvert and ask how it is going.  I've heard lots of stories and affirmation that kids will learn, in their own time, their own way, and if we just get out of the way and stop putting limits on them, they will find the connections, and in a much more meaningful way.

Calvert did let me take a break from having to plan everything.  I didn't have to scout out the right materials for each subject, I didn't have to construct the proper pace or sequence...  In fact, Calvert allowed me to check out completely.  Which allowed me to have a complete emotional breakdown, and the stress of keeping up with mountains of worksheets led to lots of crying and thoughts that I completely suck at anything I try to put my hand to.

I reminded myself a few days ago to take myself back to when I was last truly happy in life - a happiness that you feel at your very core, a joy that can't be rattled or dampened.  I was happy when I was in flow.  I was in flow when I was planning, organizing, scouting out materials, writing, presenting.. all the things I was doing as I was in school getting my teaching degree - and I would also have to add my first year of teaching - up until that fateful month of April when my name on the classroom door changed.  Twice.

The fact that I haven't been able to stop thinking about the curriculum that I wished we could be using, or the activities I know the kids would get much more meaning from, or the fact that we are bound to the desk and can't be out exploring and doing, tells me that my heart knows where we need to be.  My heart is aching for that place of pure joy again - that place where flow was happening.  If I could just get my head to stop interfering with what my hearts wants, all would be good.

Therein lies the epiphany.  Follow your heart.  Your heart knows the path you must take.

It is also a message that has been tattooed on my ankle for the past 22 years.  Go figure...

A reflection on Calvert

I'm free!!!

The past few weeks have been pretty hairy.  It was an absolute fight to the finish to get Calvert wrapped up for the year.  I have been keeping mum about Calvert because...well... it's complicated.  It is a sorta-like/hate relationship.  It is everything I despise about one-size-fits-all education, yet it's everything I like about keeping myself accountable and on track.  Which I did a HORRIBLE job at this year.  I can't drag three children, kicking and screaming all the way, on this road to intellectual enlightenment (ha!) if they continuously misplace their books, can never find their pencils, and not get the big picture of what this is all for in the first place.

What we did accomplish this year:

Jordan learned to take notes.  I learned that it is a good idea for me to teach the skill of note-taking.  He learned that turning in late assignments affects your grade.  I learned that I hate having to scan in assignments at 11:59 pm to make the midnight deadline.  He learned that writing isn't so bad.  In fact, Jordan realized that he loved writing.  I learned that Jordan had actually been listening to me for the past eight years every time we approached writing, composition, grammar and so forth - because his 'voice' in his writing is fantastic and he really knows how to construct a good sentence.  Sentence diagramming is difficult and makes us both tear our hair out.  (The geek in me though secretly loves it). NaNoWriMo, assigned by his Calvert teacher, was especially helpful in drawing out his writing voice.  Writing a short story was something I would never in a million years have asked him to do, and yet it was because of Calvert that we both made this discovery!   He learned algebra.  I learned that I still remember algebra. (happy dance)  Jordan learned how to type faster.  falls out of chair laughing.  He went from 25 wpm to an astounding 29 wpm! Jordan earned his 8th grade diploma, and will be moving on to public high school next year.

Rylan learned that dropping your pencil on the floor 518,397 times a day does not get you out of your schoolwork.  She learned how to spell 'people' and 'because'.  Rylan learned multiplication, just don't ask her to do it at anytime other than when she is in the mood.  Which is never.  Rylan learned to contort her body into 37 different pretzel shapes while sitting in her chair, all of which face away from the desk, and coincidentally, away from her schoolwork.  Rylan read two novels this year - and has quite the reading pile for the summer.  She also took an avid interest in ASL, after reading a short story in her reading anthology about a deaf boy going to a concert.  I may need to pursue this for her.  Rylan loved her online teacher and her classmates, so she wants to do this all over again next year.  The social bits, of course.  NOT the schoolwork.  

Owen learned to read.  This accomplishment alone is what kept me going through the darkest of schooling hours this year.  Several times in the past couple of weeks, he has read signs around town, carefully sounding things out.  This makes my heart sing.  He loves his online teacher, his class, and anything to do with math.  He has learned to like holding a pencil, and writing with it.  (just a little).  He loves to draw and paint.  He is more than willing to sit down and do schoolwork, as long as it doesn't interfere with his Minecraft or lego building time.  Which is never.  Which is why I can't ever get him to work with me for longer than 2 minutes without a fight.

This year has been full of tears, lots of yelling on everyone's parts, lots of high-fives, cajoling, swearing (under my breath), deal-making, begging, pleading, a-ha moments... unfortunately the bad is far out-weighing the good.  It's partly the program and partly me.  I've been lax, lazy, disinterested, and fighting my own battles.  The spillover has not been pretty.  Some serious soul-searching needs to take place this summer about what the next step will be.

All I know is that this is not how I envisioned how our homeschool experience would go.  Eight years into this journey, my (our) primary purpose has always been and always will be to put childhood first.  Play (and not the screen type) has as much - if not more importance in shaping a child's mind, than worksheets, descriptive paragraphs and addition problems.  I don't like the complicated, regimented, competitive and petty environment of public schools - in the younger grades, especially.  At the high school level, these social stepladders do have *some* merit, I suppose, when it comes to beginning to discover who you are and what you are made of.  I also know that these lessons don't only happen within the confines of a classroom.

The work Calvert requires of the kids is not inspiring, with the exception of Jordan's reading curriculum.  Hands down, that was fabulous stuff that has helped us cover so much literary knowledge this year.  Otherwise, the caliber of the rest of the curriculum is... meh.  I am pretty disappointed, actually.  It was actually painful to shelve all of our tried-and-true stuff last year when it came time to unbox the Calvert books after they arrived.  Throughout the entire school year I constantly found myself referring back to our other curriculum for this and that, because it was just so much better.  I am confident in Jordan's abilities because of what we used in the past.  Jordan has been the model student all these years, as we have traveled this homeschooling route.  He's done the work when asked and without question, and performs very well when the time comes to assess his knowledge and skills.  The younger three kids have so many issues I don't even know where to begin.  In reflecting on their behavior this past year, a lot of it comes down to a sense of entitlement that they have.  They feel that they are entitled to their free time, so schoolwork has become a secondary, painful experience for them - and having very boring, worksheet-style learning as the primary source of instruction is NOT helping that situation.

So I have a lot of thinking to do.  I'm doing some major decompressing at the moment, which is good for me.  Our calendar is completely blank, with the exception of a weekly violin lessons and the occasional field trip.  I'm not even having the kids do swim lessons.  I can tell I am feeling more than a little shell-shocked from the stress of this school year.  This is a huge sign for me that maaaaaybe Calvert isn't the best fit for us.

The CSB

I'm afraid I don't exactly *love* Calvert anymore.  It's been a such a tough beginning (this trimester), as we have pushed on and forward, yet falling ultimately further behind.  I know that things will drastically improve in December when several hours in our schedule will free up, and that is the hope that I am hanging on to - with all I've got.  I feel like a doofus for saying in the past that I wanted to be accountable to somebody, because that would help us stay on a schedule.  Our insane schedule has driven me to drinking (coffee - and tons of it) and constantly updating vast spreadsheets I've made of assignments, due dates, pacing schedule and so forth.

1. I now officially hate being accountable to somebody.  I feel guilty if we take a half hour to ourselves and go to a park, or if I have to run an errand.  We're so behind it feels like every hour has potential to get just 'a little bit more' done, so we have minimal contact with the outside world (doing stuff that is fun, and stuff that we want to do).  I hate to admit that this accountability has been good for us, because we have accomplished more schoolwork already than we accomplished all of last year.  I just don't like losing so much of our freedom.  The freedom to make your own schedule is a big part of what homeschooling is all about.

2.  I am no longer okay with somebody else picking out our curriculum.  In the past week it was suggested in Owen's Kindergarten curriculum that I reread a story about a walk a child takes with fuzzy farm animals no less than 10 times.  10 TIMES.  It was to be reread during each lesson - and discussed ad nauseam - for 5 lessons in a row.  Yes, each rereading used a different approach or covered a different aspect of the story (predicting, color of animals, fur/feathers/scales, sentence structure, blah blah blah)  Owen was ready to poke his eyes out with his big yellow pencil.  Rylan just completed the most horrific math chapter on bar modeling.  She is a whiz with three digit addition with carrying, three digit subtraction with borrowing - done the traditional way, and then they throw this crap at her.  I HATE SINGAPORE. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.  I've been standing before my schoolbook cases - now covered in dust - looking longingly at the awesome curriculum we had to shelve when Calvert came along.  History of Us, Story of the World, R.E.A.L. Science 4 Kids, Shurley English, All About Spelling, Meet the Masters, Wordly Wise 3000.... so sad.  so so sad.  There just isn't time, and it breaks my heart, because this was good stuff.  I've got to find a way to work it in, or substitute things, or...something.  Something!

I am pretty sure I will not pull the plug here mid-year, but I am undecided if we will continue with Calvert next year.  I constantly sit and fantasize about how I would take what I have learned about scheduling and pacing, and make it work with the curriculum that I want to use.  The other factor is that the kids do love their online class time - and there is no way to replicate that.  What to do, what to do, what to do...  uugh.  Sometimes I don't like being in charge.  Here we are at that stupid crossroads again - what if I make the wrong decision?  What if they fall even further behind?  Am I ruining them by keeping them home?

Homeschooling is not for the faint of heart.  You've got to be strong in your convictions because you will tested.  Constantly.  I am strong in that I want them home.  I could never surrender those Aha! moments of first words, first writing, first reading to another teacher.  Never.  I would never surrender them willingly to the social ladder of the classroom, the chaos of the lunchroom and playground, or the unrelenting schedule of homework, book reports, school functions and so forth.  I want them home so that their day can go at a reasonable pace, so that they can get adequate amounts of sunshine, playtime and downtime, so that they can go long in math and short in writing, or switch it if the mood arises, so that we can Google that question, YouTube that demonstration or build that next creation.  This I am strong in.

Where I am weak is how to go about it.  There is no ONE way - yes, I know that.  But our way over the past few years hasn't worked very well.  I'm weak in the execution of it all.  I'm weak in multi-tasking, delegating, time management - and with four kids that is a big liability.  My weak side has been winning lately.  First, I sabotaged our schedule by allowing Jordan and Rylan to do an activity that was clearly in conflict with school.  It has created a huge, huge problem, in fact.  I didn't factor in the time expense, the $$ cost to participate, the shuttling kids back and forth, the group snack headache and $$$$...  These are all things that I loathe about activities like this.  For Jordan, the reward does not even come close to the pain.  In fact, there has been damage done to relationships because he is so unhappy with his group.  For Rylan, the reward has been mostly worth it.  She has learned some new skills, made a new friend and looks forward to participating.  I am just too quick to agree to things.  I really need to sit down and work out the cost analysis before saying 'yes'.  I am also not managing our time very well.  Hours slip by without much to show for it, as I spend the time doing silly things like looking for lost items, going back to the store for forgotten things, shuttling kids back and forth to stuff, and making spreadsheets about how I should be spending my time.

All of this weakness has led to some not-so-good-things.  First of all, more than once I have woken in a cold sweat - certain that I forgot to pick up a kid from somewhere.  I have even got up, and gone to the kids' rooms to do a headcount to make sure everyone was accounted for.  There is just way too much picking up/dropping off going on, and every day is a different routine.  I check the calendar about 20 times a day because I am constantly afraid I am forgetting to do something or that I am late for something.  Panic attacks.  Daily, if not hourly panic attacks.  I panic about the schedule, the schoolwork, the house repairs, the towering stack of unopened mail (what is in there?), my knee rehab, two upcoming road trips... my heart races, my chest hurts and I think I am having a heart attack multiple times a day.  No joke.  There is also the crushing depression.  It's back, and with a vengeance.  I can't get anything done.  I am so overwhelmed, I can't care about the unopened mail, the unbalanced checkbook, the unfinished compositions, the dirty house, the child that is still having multiple 'accidents' a day, or even writing on here very much.  I don't have a clue about where to start.  I went to my doctor a few weeks back to ask for help, and I am back on an antidepressant.  This time I am trying out Prozac.  It is too low of a dose in my opinion, but it is a step in the right direction, and we'll up the dose next refill.  There has been some improvement, but the panic attacks have not stopped.  :(  I also think about where I was a year ago, vs. now.  I've gained nearly all of my weight back, due to lack of exercise because of my knee, and way more comfort/stress eating than I care to admit.  I know that the daily walking/running I was doing last year played a big part in keeping the depression at bay, and that I am soooo close to getting the all-clear to start walking daily, at least.

I think that this fall has just been particularly hard.  It's been a whole slew of a lot of little things that added all together made up the perfect clusterfuck stress bomb.  Let's just call that the CSB.  The new school 'thing', the hailstorm and the subsequent house and car repairs and the constant - daily! - meetings and phone calls with insurance agents, contractors, subs, shopping excursions and actual repair work, the knee surgery/rehab and the 30+ doctor appointments I've had since July, the insane activity schedule and so on, and so on, and so on...  I can't wait for December.  Even though Nutcracker craziness will be a part of the first half of December, that's okay.  We've actually really been enjoying that, for some reason that escapes me right now.

Being a part of something bigger

 

 

An interesting mental worm hole happened this past week, and I'm not sure where it has left me...

 

 

It all started with watching the video that the students of Lakewood High School put together for the lip dub video contest for Katy Perry's Roar.  I've been going on and on about this video to anyone who will listen to me.  I am just blown away by this video.  First of all, this school has a huge...HUGE student population - 2,000 - and 98% of the students and staff participated in the production/execution of the video.  That is just astounding to me.  It was the coming together of all of the different student groups that really touches me... over 80 different clubs are represented, and it wasn't just the 'cool kids' that got to be in it - at the expense of the tech-savvy kids that usually put these types of things together.

 

One of the lasting scars of my public school experience was the rampant exclusionary culture of my junior high and high school.  I may have been comfortably ensconced in the band program, made some terrific life-long friends and felt at home there, but there was no crossing the lines.  Not that I wanted to run with the cool kids...but there was always the feeling deep within me that somehow things had gone askew.  Some of the most popular girls in my graduating class had been my playmates in the early days of elementary school.  It was strange to me that as the years went by, and the differing tastes, talents and looks dictated the paths we followed, that not even a smile could be exchanged in the hallways by our senior year.  We had grown up together.. lived in the same neighborhood.. swam on the same swim team.. the play dates, birthday sleepovers..  I of course no longer feel that way now, but back then, in my teenage years, the feeling of being 'less than' was always present.

 

I think that it is this negative personal experience (not to mention high-stakes testing) that has turned me so against sending my own kids into that public arena of endless posturing and competition.  But that video did call back a feeling that had sustained me during that time in my life.  The feeling that I was a part of something bigger.  When I marched on the field, volunteered at the hospital, shelved books in the library, ran notes for the front office... I was a part of a bigger entity.  I wore my crimson and gold with pride, cheered on the football team and tried to impress the teachers...at least in the classes that I was interested in.  It meant something to be a part.. you were, or course, one of many, but you belonged, none the less.

 

Later this past week, on Saturday night, I had the pleasure of watching my nephew Connor march with his high school band in the state marching band competition.  He is a senior this year (so hard to believe...), and this was the FIRST time I had seen him march.  (I'm such a pathetic aunt...)  The competition was for 4A and 5A schools that had made the finals in the competition.  Connor is a part of a band that places somewhere in the top 3 every year - they are that good.  There were 8 bands in the finals for each division, so we got to watch 16 different bands perform.  Each school put on such an impressive show.  Each was unique, but what remained the same was the fierce dedication you could see in each young person's face as they marched about the field with their instruments or flags.  They were all a part of something bigger... much bigger.  They executed flawless routines with incredible artistic expression and skill - and all as one entity.  They are all so young, yet so talented!!  It did bring back some good memories for me, and sort or washed away some of the icky feelings that surfaced earlier in the week.

 

It also brought about that ridiculous circular argument I have in my head when I all of a sudden question whether homeschooling will continue to be the right thing for us.  I don't want to rob our kids of that wonderful feeling of being part of something bigger - that experience of being part of a team - whether it be sports, music or science Olympiad.  Dean and I both enjoyed that in our respective high school experiences.  I guess it all comes down to whether or not we can cultivate an interest in the first place, and then see about making it a reality.  For now, Jordan is satisfied in his first-ever team competition experience is with his homeschool Lego NXT team that is preparing to compete next month.  I don't quite see the level of passion or team spirit that I had hoped for, but it is early days.  The interest is there.. and we may pursue getting him a berth on a high school robotics team next year.  In Rylan's case, her current element is dance, and being a part of a dance performance is being a part of something bigger.

 

I don't know if writing this all out makes me feel any better... it isn't often that a day goes by where I don't question our decisions and think, "Am I being selfish and ruining them?", followed by a strong urge to count my lucky stars that we have our wonderful homeschooling life.  Some days it takes tremendous fortitude to walk this path...and stay there.

 

 

Back into the fold...

Jordan arrived home last week from his second round of visitation with his mom.  His plane arrived early in the evening, and it was a loud hyperfest in the back 2/3rds of the van the whole way home.  Rylan, Owen and Colin are very happy to have him back home.

We are too. 

Not sure what the emotional/behavioral damage estimate is, it was hard to tell initially, but I hope it follows the trend of past years and won't be as bad.  There will be the typical gaming deprogramming, of course, along with tapering off the need for constant stimulation from TV or computer.  It happens every year.  When he goes to visit, he constantly complains of boredom, so these are his only outlets.


I am glad Jordan is back, and in one piece to boot.  It is not a moment too soon.  This was a traumatic visit for us, waiting back here in Colorado.  First there was the EF5 tornado in Moore, on May 22nd, the day he flew out there.  Then, on May 31st, there was another tornado outbreak.



credit: NWS

Dean was at work that day, watching the weather warnings on the internet, and as things began to look pretty serious, he called Jordan to make sure that he was getting to safe place.  Jordan's mother's house is located where the green star is.  She has no storm cellar, no local shelter...nothing.  The storm trackers were predicting that the tornado was going to track eastward, along I40.  As you can see, the green star was IN THE DIRECT PATH of where the tornado was predicted to be heading.  (it did veer, inexplicably, south)  Jordan said that his mom and stepdad didn't think it was necessary to leave the house.  (!)

Let's just let that sit for a minute.  Just imagine.  You, sitting in a safe location, 800 miles away, can see and hear the local storm trackers and weather forecasters, by streaming a live feed over the internet, sounding the warning that if those individuals in the tornado's path cannot get below ground, they had better leave if they didn't want to risk losing their life.  Your loved-one is IN that path they keep mentioning over and over again.  Keep in mind, the horrific scenes from the Moore tornado were only 9 days old.  These were seasoned forecasters - and even they were sounding a little freaked out.  That is what we can hear, that is what we tell Jordan, that is what he tells his mom - BEGGING to her that he wants to leave and go someplace safer.  You could hear the fear in his voice.  And?  She scoffs.

Scoffs.

SCOFFS!

It's been over a month, and yet I still want to reach out and strangle...someone.  This was, in it's totality, her move as if to say - "I am not going to do something, just because they (meaning Dean and me) are telling me to do it.".  That is all it was.  She was so DETERMINED to make her point and to be the one in charge, that she forgot to be the grown-up in the first place. 

The map above shows a second star, a purple one.  This is where Jordan and his mom eventually sheltered at.  After our third phone call that afternoon in the span of 20 minutes, where we went over what safety precautions he could take if they were indeed staying put, we heard back from Jordan about 10 minutes later that he and his mom were driving south to a hospital, where they figured they could wait it out in an interior corridor.  This was now a full 30 minutes from when the first warnings to GET OUT came.  (This would be the hospital that was eventually hit by the tornado)  They moved on from there, for whatever reason, and eventually ended up (at Jordan's suggestion) at a Homeland Grocery store, sheltering in a meat locker with 30 or so other people.  If that had been her move, when the warnings first came, I would be applauding her.  But not for this.  It was Jordan that got them to safety - not her.  If she had put aside her petty control issues and phoned Dean herself, and came up with an evacuation game plan WITH him, for the sake and safety of THEIR son, I would have been so grateful.

Co-parenting can be so much better than this.  But it takes a willingness to work as a team.  I am regarded as the enemy by her.  Jordan is routinely asked by her if I am treating him okay, or if I yell at him or push him around.  I have been accused of forcing Jordan to raise the kids for me - that in fact (and this is precious), the only reason I keep him at home to "homeschool" him, is so that he will take care of the kids for me.  Jordan was actually quite angered by this, and told me that he set her straight, reminding her that 'he is the big brother, and that is what older sibling do" (duh), and that he is homeschooled because he had such a rough start in public education.  The general classroom is not the best place for him with his ADHD.  Her response? "Oh..."

I've been thinking about the whole 'step-mother' short shrift for some time now...  Just like parents of every stripe out there, there are people of every sort.  Just because you are a biological parent, doesn't, by default, make you a good one - make you the better choice.  The better adult-figure in a child's life can be the neighbor down the street, the teacher, the grandparent, and yes... even step-parents.  I'm am not saying this to toot my own horn.  What I am saying is that she is trying to sell Jordan on the 'Disney' version of the mean, unfair (and ugly) stepmother, and he is not buying it.  In fact, he confided in his dad that he resents the way Disney always portrays the stepmother figure.  He says it is an unfair depiction.  I love that kid...

I do have a lot more to say on this subject, but I think I will let it wait for another time.

Tribal customs

 

 

This blog post began percolating in my head a few weeks ago, when I came across the tribal concept Quinn Cummings mentioned in her book The Year of Learning Dangerously. When she and her preteen daughter began the adventure known as homeschooling, Quinn spent considerable time looking for a group that she and her daughter could identify with and feel supported by.

Any time you make a lifestyle choice (like homeschooling for example) that lies just outside the accepted cultural norm, you're going to receive pushback. Your family and friends will question you, along with well-meaning strangers and maybe an asshole or two that wants to know why your children are hanging out in the cereal aisle at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday. Having a group you identify with is super-helpful when you start to have your semi-annual panic attacks that you are ruining your children for life or when you are changing science curriculums and you just don't know what to choose. It's more than that though - having a group of like-minded families to fall back on is the best way to keep your head in the game and your heart focused on the big picture - that you like your kids so much that you are willing to spend all day with them - even if that means teaching that poop goes IN the potty, what the three sounds of 'A' are and how to simplify fractions... ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

I've been with my 'tribe' for almost six years now. I can remember my very first 'official' homeschool Park Day. It was in the beginning of August, 2007. Rylan was a wee 14 mo. old and Jordan was a newly-minted seven. We made our way over to a group of women, sitting on blankets under the large shade trees of our city park. They welcomed me with open arms. :). They admired Rylan's attempts to toddle in the sand, shared some ideas about anything and everything homeschooling, and even shared some strawberries. I had found my people. These women have been a tremendous support throughout all of these years. We have welcomed many newborn family members as they came along - I can't remember a time when there wasn't a babe-in-arms. We have a shared history that I treasure very much. I don't see them as often as I used to - as the kids grow they get more involved in other interests, and so our paths cross with less regularity.

This past Wednesday, the stars aligned and the sun shone bright. Thanks to the power of social media, we all convened at the park - some making their one and only annual Park Day appearance. (That means you Shawn and Amanda ;). It was glorious. I was feeling low (see previous post). My friends politely listened to my rant and then I felt much better. Owen single-handedly decimated Deanna's popcorn supply. Two mothers nursed their babies. Kids came for sips of water and then disappeared again. I got a sunburn. And I felt totally rejuvenated. This is my tribe. These women know my history, and I, theirs.

In regards to having a 'tribe' within the homeschooling community - I can't think of anything else that will have greater influence on your success rate with sticking it out than that. You need families that 'understand' what you are going through. The annual cycle of emotional ups and downs. The myriad of choices you must make, all the while trying to honor the individual child. The delicate balance of mother vs. teacher. The need for knitting, good books, bloggy comfort, coffee and wine - in no particular order. I don't know where we would be right now in our homeschooling journey if I hadn't encountered this wonderful group of women and their great kids. This tribe is my anchor. I wonder if we should come up with some kind of tribal tattoo...

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Simple Woman's Daybook Entry

 

Outside my window... A beautiful sunny blue sky, bright sun and melting patches of snow.

I am thinking... About a blog post that a friend posted about a new lock-down policy (in a knee-jerk reaction to the Sandy Hook shooting) that was put in place (with no prior notice to the parents) the last day of school before Christmas Break (it is a once-a-week enrichment program for homeschoolers, operated under the direction of the local school district). (WOW! A sentence with three, THREE!, parenthetical interjections!) I envy the experiences that my friends' children are receiving in this program (Jordan attended for two years, but we pulled out a couple of years ago), but I am so, so very thankful that I no longer have to hand over my children to other adults to watch over and keep safe. The kids who attend have to traverse between four different buildings throughout the day, and some were locked out when they left one building and attempted to enter another. That is absolutely inexcusable.

I am thankful... For the homeschooling life, obviously. I am also thankful for washing machines, coffee, and my headphones.


From the Learning Rooms... We didn't do a lick of work this week. We did play a lot though. I taught Rylan how to play Mancala, and she is already grasping the strategic thinking that is involved. She worked on her karate workbooks that are due this coming week, and read all of the directions to me as she did the various activities. We haven't done much reading practice since before Thanksgiving, yet here she is, reading away... I am in awe. She is also practicing her subtraction skills as she plays on her own Hay Day farm (a game she plays on Dean's iPad). She has to calculate how much more of something she needs to complete an order, or how much more money she needs to earn to purchase something-or-other. I keep trying to convince Dean of the game's educational merits, but he is not buying it...


In the kitchen... I need a new coffee pot. Desperately. My Mr. Coffee died a long time ago, and I have been subsisting with my French Press. The glass carafe cracked several months ago, but it was still usable - until it was knocked off of the counter the morning we were leaving for Christmas in OKC, that is. We have the espresso machine, and I love using it, but sometimes you just don't feel like waiting that long for a coffee. And a mocha is a pretty 'heavy' drink.. I don't want to consume something like that every day. So I am advocating hard for a Keurig. We'll see.


I am wearing... pj's and a big fluffy robe.


I am creating... Well - if the stars align and the kids leave me alone, I just may, MAY, get the annual Christmas letter done today. Nothing could be more simple to write (I write reams on this blog! WHY can't I get a couple of paragraphs pounded out?!?!), yet I have repeatedly put the job off to the next day and the next. I was totally ON IT this year. I got on Shutterfly, created and ordered our family photo card and received it BEFORE Thanksgiving. So what happened? I suck.


I am going... Grocery shopping at some point...


I am wondering... When exactly Lego is going to have its Minecraft set in stock again. I have checked every day since mid-December, and they still say Sold Out. I could purchase it on Amazon for twice the price, but that is just ridiculous. Bad form Lego, bad form.... (this is one of Jordan's Christmas presents...)

I am reading... I just got a copy of J.K. Rowling's The Casual Vacancy from Dean for Christmas. I haven't cracked it yet, but I will in the very near future. It's this month's pick for bookclub.


I am hoping... That we finish the bathroom today. All that is left to do is the tile backsplash. I can't wait to post pictures! We have all exclaimed that it feels like a completely different house when we go in there.


I am looking forward to... Getting back into the groove this week.


I am learning... About DropBox and the all of the possibilities that it opens up. Technology can be so cool and useful!


I am hearing... 'Goodbye In Her Eyes' by the Zac Brown Band, on their new album Uncaged. Love it. I saw them perform on Jimmy Fallon recently (aired in November, but we have a jillion episodes on the DVR to watch yet) and I was instantly smitten. We think the lead singer looks exactly like Dean's niece's husband, Chris.


Around the house... Laundry. Owen had been suffering with a stomach bug for several days, and it was hard to get in just a load of regular clothes in between all of the loads of sheets and towels. Now it is Colin's turn. Except it is all coming out of the other end. (You're welcome.) Both of them have had fevers that have been off and on over several days, and Owen has slept for hours on end. The longest stint was 16 hours. Poor kid. I think he has turned the corner, though. I just hope it doesn't progress on to Rylan or Jordan.

I just completed an organizing project (post to come soon), and it has been a nice morale booster.

Dean and I just got a new budgeting program called You Need A Budget. We are using the 30-day trail to try it out, but we are already really impressed. It was our goal over Christmas Break to get our financial house back in order, and we think we have found it. If I get off my lazy duff, maybe I'll get a post in about it over on the 2 Cents blog. (just as soon as I blow the dust off of it).


I am pondering... ummm... not much. Trying to stay away from introspection today.


One of my favorite things... A new track I just found on Spotify! Zac Brown AND Jimmy Buffett!! I think I need a little more Jimmy Buffett in my life. Maybe that's what wrong - I had stopped listening.


A few plans for the rest of the week... An ortho appt for Jordan on Tuesday, and a return to the lessons line up. Owen started back up with gymnastics yesterday (luckily he felt perky in the morning - but he slept from 3pm until 10 pm, and then went back to bed at midnight). Karate belt testing is this coming weekend. Jordan also has his second round of MBU (scout Merit Badge University) classes as well. Rylan will test for her red belt on Saturday, and Jordan will test for his Green belt during a make-up test the following Monday night.


Here is a picture for thought I am sharing...

This is called Blu Track, and it has been voted the kids' favorite toy of the season. It is such an awesome, creative toy! Owen's Aunt Karen and Uncle Steve ordered it for him from Fat BrainToys for Christmas. I highly recommend it. It also makes great entertainment for kitties.

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Simple Woman's Daybook Entry

 

Outside my window... A gray skies kind of day. There is snow in the mountains, but not here. I think we may get some snow this coming Wednesday. Dean and Jordan are on their way home from a short scout ski trip as we speak, so they are driving through the snow on their way home.


I am thinking... About Connecticut. I've heard about the selfless act of one of the adult victims - a teacher who hid some of her students in a closet in order to protect them. I can recall several meetings about lock-downs and threat assessment during my teaching days. I hated the drills - it was nerve-wracking to hear someone trying your classroom door to see if it was locked. I had four points of entry to my classroom. Only one of the doors - the outside door - was the one that I had the ability to secure with a key. The other three were interior doors that I had to rely on other teachers to do their part in securing access to our annex. I. hated. that. I even kept a large cabinet behind my desk clear from clutter. That way I could stuff my students in there if I had too. I would often lay awake at night playing out different scenarios in my head about how I would escape with the kids if 'this' or 'that' happened. Aren't teachers supposed to lay awake at night creating neat lesson ideas rather than plans on how to escape a deranged gunman? What a messed up world....


I am thankful... That I have four beautiful, healthy children. And that I have the freedom to school them at home. I can't emphasize the depth of gratitude in these statements enough.


From the Learning Rooms... Rylan can now officially count to 100. I think she has been able to do it for awhile now, but we never just did an official run-through of all of the numbers. We have practiced counting here and there, but not like in drill-and-kill fashion. The pride she feels is immense - she did most of the work! She is also writing down practically everything. Just now she wrote herself a reminder note that a SpongeBob Christmas special is coming on tonight. She paused the tv and copied down the time and title of the show, lol.... I guess we better not forget it will be on!


In the kitchen... Sweet rolls from a friend who dropped them by last night (a very welcomed Christmas gift - thank you Kierra!!), and yogurt.


I am wearing... silk long johns... It's cold this morning!


I am creating... We are finishing the bathroom this afternoon, as soon as Dean and Jordan arrive home! We just need to finish installing the molding, toilet and vanity/sink combo and hang the mirror. I can't wait!!

I am going... Nowhere today... yeah!


I am wondering... why... Why...WHY???


I am reading... Still nothing. I think I am in dire need of some escapism though..


In the garden... I just realized I still have my carrots in the ground.. and a couple of wayward beets. We have had a couple of good freezes now, so they should be nice and sweet. Time to harvest!


I am hoping... To get the bathroom done by tonight. We SHOULD be able to do it... but you never know.


I am looking forward to... An early Christmas with my mom tomorrow night.


I am learning... How to put some of my homeschool planning spreadsheets onto Google docs so that I can access them on my iPad during vacation next week.


I am hearing... After Hours, by We Are Scientists on Spotify


Around the house... Rylan and Owen are watching SpongeBob, Colin is in the playroom, Abby is sleeping on her pillow and Kitty is somewhere upstairs.. on a bed probably. No patches of sunshine to sleep in today...


I am pondering... When I will actually acknowledge the fact that we are leaving in five days, and that I should really begin packing...


One of my favorite things... Christmas movies. We watched all three Santa Clause movies yesterday.


A few plans for the rest of the week... Dinner/presents with mom tomorrow night, the usual violin/karate/dance class line-up, ice skating with the girl scouts, wine and dessert with bookclub friends, my Uncle Buzz's Celebration of Life service on Friday, followed by a holiday tap show performance of Rylan's that evening. We leave for OKC bright and early the next morning!!


Here is a picture for thought I am sharing...


Rylan and I attended a Girl Scout Holiday Tea yesterday. We enjoyed many teatime treats, made some crafts and sang Christmas carols. It was a very pleasant time indeed, and I enjoyed spending time with my beautiful, sweet daughter.

 

 

 

 


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"Sexy"

Am I the cruel type of mom that will post her 12 yr old son's first love note for all of the "internets" to see? 

Why yes.  Yes I am.

But not for the reason that you might think.  I am not out to embarrass him or make him feel bad... it just makes for good blog fodder!!  I will have to make my case for non-embarrassment pretty air-tight though, because that boy is getting more internet-savvy by the day, and he will find his own way to this blog sooner or later.

Back to the note.

We homeschool.  No note-passing in these parts unless you count the endless love notes Rylan writes to her brothers on a daily basis.  We don't do any outside enrichment classes as of late.. not even Sunday school.  Nope.  Never the less, this note-passing thing happened, yesterday, in karate of all places.  Not during class though (that would have been amusing), but afterwards, as everybody was trying to squeeze out the door.  A boy came forward and pressed the note into Jordan's hand.  He was obviously the messenger, and I think he had an idea of the note's contents, because he just couldn't get away fast enough.

Jordan and I were in the middle of a discussion about a scheduling headache this coming weekend with belt promotions and a boy scout campout happening simultaneously.  (I will have to drive an hour up into the mountains on Saturday to retrieve him, deliver him to karate to go through his testing, and then drive him back to camp.  All without knowing exactly where he will be camping.  Good times are a-comin' this weekend!

Back to the note.

As I said - we were in the middle of logistics when this note landed in his open hand.  He opened it and turned beet-red about 5 seconds later.  He must have read the 'sexy' part.  He then handed ME the note because it must have been causing mild burns on his hand or something...

Now stop right here - what 12 year old boy, in his right mind, would shove a love note that he received into his parent's hand?  Our sweet (and maybe a little too innocent, when it comes to these things) Jordan, that's who!  This right of passage was just thrust upon him and he had no idea what to do with it.  I love, love, love, that he invites us in to help him navigate this turn of events.  I cringe at the sad thought of countless pre-teens, all faced with this eventual scenario, who just thrust the note into the back of the sock drawer, and hope it will all go away.  They walk downstairs and hardly utter a word during dinner.  Their mind is working away the whole while, dreading going back to school the next day.  All because somebody 'likes' them.  These are big feelings and no wonder kids don't know what to do with them!

I'm not an idiot, I knew exactly what the note was going to be about.  You just 'know'.  I just held its small folded-self in my hand as we finished our discussion.  First - I wasn't going to give the note-giver any more of the satisfaction of watching Jordan read it and be further embarrassed.  Second - I hope they saw it land in my hands.  Muah-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!  The evil parent now holds the note!!!  Oh, the horror!!!  And to think she took it straight home and POSTED IT ON HER BLOG!

When we got into the car, I gave it back to Jordan (without opening it), and innocently asked, "So.  What does it say?".  He got as far as... "I love you Jordan.  you've got a secret lover."  Then he handed it back to me, embarrassed again, and asked me to finish reading it because he didn't want to read the next word...."Sexy".

Two things.

1.  She used the gross terminology "secret lover".  WHO says that?  She must be reading her mom's trash novels.

2.  She used 'you've' correctly.  At least she has that going for her!

The note finishes out with directions on where to leave a note for her in return (in an 'emty shoe cuby at karatie'), along with the indication that she was not going to share her name.  She now loses all credibility with me because she can't even spell 'karate' correctly.  Yes, I know.  I'm a spelling-Nazi.  Can't help it.

So that leaves poor Jordan with the burning question of: "WHO is his secret lover??"

On this particular day there were four possible candidates.  One of which he likes very much, and has for quite awhile.  But I don't think it is her.  She doesn't look like the type who would use the words - secret lover.  I do think she likes him too, though.  Her dad is aware of the situation too because he always gives me a knowing smile when he arrives to pick her up at the end of class.  We have this unspoken agreement:  We approve.  We will rotate holidays and welcome grandchildren in about 18 years' time.

So that leaves the other three, all of which seem equally likely to use secret lover, which is why I don't like them.  What unsocialized homeschooler uses that word?  Oh yeah...the 'socialized' ones.

That is what makes this whole situation so ridiculously funny to me.  Yes, part of the reason we homeschool is to shelter our kids from the pressures of growing up too fast.  So here we are, seeking to dodge this kind of stuff, and it happens anyway.  You can't win!!  It is harmless at this point - maybe even a little 'cute', but it is actually painful to watch Jordan grapple with this sort of thing.  He's growing up...and there is no way to stop it.

Pssst....

So, I hope I'm not the only one out there who stashed all her notes that she passed back and forth in Jr. High/high school.  For 27 years I've been schlepping around a bag, stashed in a keepsake bin, of every tawdry/boring thing that happened in my pubescent life.  Emphasis on the boring.  That pile pictured above is about half of what it used to be.  Every once in awhile in the past few years I would read a few, either bless or curse the person who wrote it, and then shred it.  But now all of it, as of a half hour ago, is gone by the way of the shredder. Why?  Well, it is part of a declutterting mission for the month of February:  if it doesn't make me feel good to have it in the house, get rid of it.  The 'note bag' has been sitting on top of a book case in our bedroom for almost a year.  No idea why I put it up there, except to get it out of the way when I was sorting through a bin.  But I've looked at it, every day, since then.  I knew the memories that lurked within, and I finally needed to put them to rest.  Also, you just can't leave evidence of that stuff laying around for little prying eyes to read and wonder who the hell their mother really is.

Heck, I wondering the same thing right now.

For the past hour, I've been mentally wandering the halls of my Jr. High and high school, lounging in the bedrooms of my friends (back in the day), standing before lockers and sitting in uncomfortable desks.  It all came back, in bits and pieces.  And yet - I don't ever care to go back again.  So into the shredder they went. 

The intricately folded notebook papers.

The locker numbers and combinations.

The complaints about boring teachers.

The suggestions for boys who might like me.

The suggestions that so-and-so is a bitch.

The suggestions for the horror movie we need to watch on our next sleepover.

The fights.

The spats.

The tiffs.

The "I'm so glad you are my friend - let's be best friends 4-eva!"

The slam books. (remember those?)

The attempts to guess at who you were going to marry.

The attempts to guess at how many kids you were going to have.

The attempts to guess at what your job would be, the car you would drive, and how you would die.

The attempts to guess at how good your sex life would be.  (really?  In 8th grade?)

The opinions about the person in front of you, beside you and behind you in class.

The fear of getting caught passing notes.  (But you did it anyway).

The critiques of the reproduction films shown in Health class.

The attempts to write in code. (Jenelle's specialty)

At the end of my reading session, I had a multitude of feelings.

I didn't like myself very much.

I felt like some of my choices in friends were pretty poor. 

I wondered how I ever passed eighth grade.  I didn't seem to be too concerned with homework.

I hated all of the bickering/sniping/bragging/complaining/comparing that was going on - especially during the high school years - and most of it was because of me.

I struggled to think of any good memories from those days - apart from band.

I missed some of my friends very much - but the geographical distance and passage of years has taken it's toll.

My best friend from early Jr. High years, Juliette, was the absolute best at folding and decorating notes.  She moved away to Montana before we moved on to high school.

My best friend in high school, Sheila, had the best handwriting, hands down.

I didn't like the nickname "Larry"

Those years were so hard to navigate for me, emotionally.  I think that a lot of the 'baggage' that I carry around - to this day, is directly related to how difficult those years were for me.  I was an instigator of a lot of the fighting between friends.  I expected friends to take sides, I held grudges, I was sooo passive-aggressive in how I handled arguments and I was too easily swayed by peer-pressure - and I used peer pressure to my advantage as well.  I grew up years before I should have - and I blame mostly myself.  What saddens me most is that I didn't place an ounce of importance on my education.  It was all about the socializing.  I can count on one hand the educational achievements that I am proud of from those years.

If I am to take anything away from this trip down memory lane, it is only that I will do my absolute best to steer my children away from ever entertaining the thought of going to public school. The social angst of those 6-8 grade years is just absolutely ridiculous.  No - I don't think that my kids would make the same mistakes that I did, but school is even more of a sketchy social haven today then it was back then.  They get enough of a workout with their interpersonal skill-set as it is, despite being a homeschooler. 

Call me overprotective - but seriously - would you ever want to revisit to your Jr. High days?

In closing,

here is a test of acronyms from the note-passing days.

S/S/S (which can mean two different things)

L/Y/L/A/S

W/B or W/B/S

I must be getting old, because I can't remember any more.  And I can't go sift through the note pile and look for more, because they are shredded.  And I am thankful for that.  :)



Holes

"Every time your child says something unkind...to a family member, he is sent

outside to hammer a nail into a post.  Every time a kind word is said, have the

child remove a nail.  The nail will be somewhat rusty, and will of course leave

a hole in the post.  Remind your child that although kind words are nice, the damage

will remain, and it is a wise choice to control what you say".

-Creative Correction by Lisa Welchel

I really used to enjoy going to Park Day.  That changed one day last September, when a particularly nasty-tempered girl told Rylan that she had big ears.  (I love my daughter to death, and yes, she does have ears that stick out quite a bit, but still...)  Rylan was crushed.  She's five, and that was the first time anyone ever pointed it out to her - let alone SCREAM it in her face.  The mother of that little girl never made her daughter aware of the amount of hurt she caused or even offered an apology for the incident.  She tried to have a "feelings" discussion with her daughter... and her daughter was in the middle of a blind rage.  (That's when you mutter to yourself, "No wonder that girl is homeschooled!")  We left shortly after that.

A month or two later a little boy was unapologetic as he revealed to Rylan that the Tooth Fairy does not exist.  Rylan hasn't even had the pleasure of losing a tooth yet, and she is already full of doubt.  We have yet to go back to a Park Day at this point.  We kind of make the most of Park Day in our own way...  By playing at a park on the other side of town.

I bring this up now, for two reasons.

1.  Enough time has passed that I can now relate the story without using an obscene number of expletives, aimed at people I know and that know me.

2.  Rylan, in the midst of a play session with her Barbies this afternoon, suddenly stopped and loudly exclaimed, "Uuugh!  I wish I could get that ugly girl out of my head that told me I had big ears!"  "Do I have big ears??"

-sigh-

I wish I could get that ugly girl out of your head too, Rylan.  I wish I could fill in those nail holes so that it was like they didn't even exist.  But.  That is life.  People will say mean things.   And even though the people who love you will say kind things to take away the pain, the holes will still be there.  Some critics say that homeschooled children are at a loss as to how to take the playground taunting that all the other kids get used to, and that they are missing out on honing such interpersonal skills as:

* engaging in snappy comebacks - and becoming just as ugly as your aggressor

* getting a thick skin (yet silently hating yourself and requiring lots of expensive therapy in later years)

* starting rumors meant to hurt the other person

* taking names of which mutual friends you can bring to your side

* starting whisper campaigns - the more subversive the better

Get over it you say... "Not everyone is nice."  (You can say that again...)

Well society?... you suck.  It shouldn't have to be this way.

So therein lies the beauty of homeschooling... we don't have to play with the same mean kids who menace the all other kids on the playground, day after day.  We can pick up our toys and go home.  We have (for the most part) the ability to selectively choose our playmates. 

To make a successful go of it in our society, you owe it to yourself to surround yourself with those who make you feel happy, productive, creative... and well, even loved, for that matter.  So that is what I am teaching my kids.  You don't have to 'learn how to take it' when others treat you badly - because you don't have to.

And as a gentle reminder to all - take the time to choose your words carefully - they really do leave a lasting impression, and can hurt the ones you love the most.

Keepin' it real...

Sigh.  One of my biggest complaints about my college education is that the pedagogy was weak on the how aspects of teaching.  HOW do you teach a child to read?  I got all sorts of ideas on how to support literacy, but not the nuts and bolts of the HOW.  Same with math.  I had one - O*N*E math class.  We mostly played games and had an incredibly boring textbook to read.  Ninety-nine percent of it was about aligning your lessons to the NCTM standards.  Super-helpful.

Most of the ideas I use (to compliment Rylan's MEP curriculum) with Rylan are either something I came up with on the fly or something I saw on some one's blog.  For me, the best blogs for ideas are Magic and Mayhem, No Time for Flashcards, and Homeschool Creations.  There are sooo many good ideas from these terrific moms!

Yesterday's math lesson was all about 0's, 1's and 2's -adding and subtracting, inequalities and writing practice.  We've been doing the same thing for the past two weeks, and each day it's just a little more involved.  I've noticed that Rylan does great when she is working with something tangible and not-so-great when she is working in the abstract.  Well, duh... kids aren't wired for the abstract quite yet.  I wonder why the curriculum developers, the so-called education experts that advise the curriculum developers, and some of the teachers that use the curriculum, keep pushing the issue that kids need to be reading, writing and completing abstract calculations at increasingly younger ages.  I think it is an issue of politicians needing quantifiable results to push their agendas - and true education just gets swept out the window.  I wish they (the out-of-touch politicians) could sit in the front lines and see what their unreasonable expectations are doing to kids.  I really, really do.  Once again, I am so thankful that I got out of public education.  But, still, even as a homeschooler, I feel compelled to get the reading/writing ball rolling - it is so hard to resist the pressure not to do so.

Rylan is five years and six months.  She can count to about seventy.  She can't skip count - and oh, how I have tried.  She can recognize odd and even, and knows about inequalities.  The 'Alligator Mouth' did the trick - except now she wants to draw the teeth in every time.  She can count objects, play along with a number story (I'll detail that in a moment), she can divide things out equally and group according to attribute.  She recognizes patterns and loves to play with unifix cubes and Cuisenaire rods.

But.

When I ask, pointing to the printed problem on the lesson's worksheet for the day, "What is one plus one?", I get a blank stare.  I pull out two counters and try again.  Then I get results.  I know this all takes time - but some days I just feel like abandoning the worksheets altogether because I feel like they are getting in the way.  I don't ever want math to become a negative thing between us.  She loves to do all of the activity stuff - and I want to keep it that way.

Yesterday we did the little flashcards for the first time (pictured at the top).  She happened to have her Lego Jessie with her, so Jessie 'helped' her count.  This is probably about the third time we have counted using a number line.  I've had this mat for a long time, I just never remember to pull it out.  We are working on jumping up the number line to add, and jumping down to subtract.  It just so happens that Jordan is also doing a lot of number line work lately- he is working with positive and negative numbers right now.  So he pipes up and starts telling her about negative numbers.  Then I have to send him to the kitchen table to finish his work before he completely confuses her.



In a part of her lesson we needed to demonstrate the concept of 'equal' with a balance.  That is a tool I wish we had... we had to settle for a good-old-fashioned wire hanger and plastic bags.  It worked for the most part.  I had to pull out the marble-jar, which has been in hiding for the greater part of a year.  Owen and Colin were delighted and of course begged and begged and begged for marbles.  I now have about 15 marbles to fish out from underneath the stove alone.  Doing 'real' activities like this works really well for Rylan, so I try and make the bulk of the lesson doing stuff like this.  I know that kids do this sort of thing in public school too, but with us, it's individualized.  Owen doesn't like using counters as much as Rylan does, give Jordan too much 'stuff' to work with and he gets completely distracted - keep it simple.  You can't quite expect that to happen in the regular classroom.

The dryer completed its cycle right in the middle of our math lesson.  (I have a hard and fast rule that you drop everything and tend to the clothes, immediately.)  So as Rylan and I stood in the closet and sorted and folded and hung up stuff, we counted.  "Rylan has three pants.  She puts one away (puts in on the shelf), now how many does she have?  Daddy has two pairs of socks.  If we put both pairs on the shelf, how many do we have left?  Two minus two equals zero."  And so on.  This works pretty well and we use this number story activity in sorts of different scenarios.

As long as we keep it real, a connection can be made.  I think that might be good advice for all facets of life.

Running off leash

I unhooked the leash from my mouth yesterday and ran with it.

And it felt GOOD!

Today's unleashing will feel even better.  It's about religion.  And the lack thereof.  I won't deny it - I'm a secular thinker.  I embrace many different theories on how we came to be here, but I hold them ever so briefly, and let them fall by the wayside because the only truth to me that makes sense is this:  There is no heaven.  There is no hell.  There is no middle man between me and 'God'.  There is no sin.  There is no prayer or mortal application of forgiveness to pardon my 'sin'.  No Creation, Resurrection or Immaculate Conception.  Good and Evil?  Yes.  Intelligent Design?  No.  I have felt this way for a good number of years now, and my line in the sand is drawn.

So it was with a great deal of interest that I listened to a story on NPR's Morning Edition, this past Monday morning.  A discussion about a new book release is always interesting, and I love, love, love the way Robert Krulwich conducts his interviews - the playful banter back and forth always makes for good listening.  The author, Stephen Greenblatt , is releasing The Swerve: How the World Became Modern.  It is a story about how a lost book (one of only maybe three copies in existence), called On the Nature of Things, by a Roman writer named Lucretius, was rediscovered in 1417, in a German monastery, and brought forth again to the world.  The amazing thing is the subject matter.  The book was written before the fall of Rome, before Darwin (!!), before the time of Jesus, before the Church took a stranglehold on European society and crushed any attempts of free, scientific or spiritual thought.  Click on the link above and listen to the story.  I think it is just beautiful.  Here is an excerpt from On the Nature of Things:

... moving randomly through space, like dust motes in a sunbeam, colliding, hooking together, forming complex structures, breaking apart again, in a ceaseless process of creation and destruction. There is no escape from this process. ... There is no master plan, no divine architect, no intelligent design.

All things, including the species to which you belong, have evolved over vast stretches of time. The evolution is random, though in the case of living organisms, it involves a principle of natural selection. That is, species that are suited to survive and to reproduce successfully, endure, at least for a time; those that are not so well suited, die off quickly. But nothing — from our own species, to the planet on which we live, to the sun that lights our day — lasts forever. Only the atoms are immortal ...

Oh.  My.  Almost two thousand years before Darwin, yet you can read his thoughts right here.  In a time when the world of Roman Gods and Goddesses ruled the day, Lucretius was able to come up with this.  I am in absolute awe.  To be able to think on such a deep and complex level - these ancient works are just incredible - in the sense that they are absolutely relevant today.  Here is another review, on Fresh Air.

I was fortunate enough to get to listen to the Morning Edition interview twice.  Once with Dean, and then later again when I was driving with the kids to a field trip destination.  I wanted Jordan to hear it.  What is troubling is that he found it distressing.  We are in no way trying to stamp out religion in this family.  The kids are and will continue to be encouraged to make their own faith journey and to ultimately declare their beliefs (whatever they may be) as their own. I however, with a great deal of intention, look for opportunities to expose the kids to as many historical or scientific approaches to religion as I can - because I have to counteract a great deal of intense religious exposure whenever the kids enter the state of Oklahoma.  (and that is putting it nicely).  Jordan's mother has been taking Jordan to a Holy Roller type of church in the past couple of years - the type where the kids are strongly encouraged to bring their bibles to church with them every time.  They jazz the kids up with video games, free food and candy, loud music and so forth.  All in the name of Jesus.  Crap.  Give me a break.  The sad thing is that we have to point out to Jordan, time and time again, how the church is using these gimmicks to take advantage of his youth and naivete to just reel him in.  And it is working.  Despite all of our hard work to keep him free and open-minded, he still wavers on the edge of contemplating that Creation could have happened.  Are you serious????  AAAAGGGHHHH!

My children (can't control what happens with Jordan, unfortunately) will never be allowed to be in Oklahoma unattended.  Why?  Because there is so much in-your-face organized religion there you could choke on it.  I am not lying when I say that from the ages of 2 -4, when Rylan was referring to Oklahoma she would use the term 'Church'.  "When are we going to Church?".  It took me forever to figure out what she was really asking.  I have no idea how she got that term in her head - it is a true puzzle, but almost laughably ironic. 

Don't get me wrong - I am not saying that church or the teachings of Jesus Christ are bad.  I believe he was a wise, prophetic man who walked this Earth and did good things while he was here.  I believe he had a lot of important things to say about how to treat each other with respect and kindness.  He meant it - look at the times he was living in - the Roman occupiers were a bunch of assholes!  But that is the point - that what he had to say was relevant to the time period and culture he was living within.  Decades (pray tell centuries?) after his death, when the books of the new testament were coming together, they told his story.  That is a long time for a story to get thoroughly embellished.  And embellish it they did.  Stuff and more stuff was added - the more fantastical the better (and isn't it strange how the Agnostics were suppressed?).  That's how all the great storytellers perfect their craft - make it interesting and powerful for it to have the fullest effect.  Stories have a common thread within every society on Earth - they are the most effective tool to exert a society's preferred cultural norm among the masses.  So all of the Evangelical and Day of Reckoning crap?  Pure hogwash meant to scare the daylights of the believers and to fill the coffers of the church. (Pay us and we'll SAVE you!)  That is the aspect of organized religion that really pisses me off.  God gave you free will - and now he is going to punish you?  God hates gays?  God will smite you if you get an abortion?  You will be punished if you do not hand over all of your worldly goods?  What exactly are the new breed of organized, mega churches trying to achieve here?  Believe this or you will go to hell?  Where is the 'be kind to your brother' message?  Where is the 'be kind to the Earth for it's all we have' message?  Where is the 'you-are-not-better-than-anybody-else-no-matter-their-nationality-skin-color-sexual-orientation-socio-economic-status message'?  You can't play both messages at once- they contradict each other!  Don't profess to be a loving Christian yet only to tell me, that because I haven't confessed my sins and accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior that I will not see you in heaven.  What an awful, awful thing to say to someone.  It hurts.  It segregates.  It passes judgement that is not yours to give in the first place. 

Our own church, for the most part, does a good job of keeping the message on target.  But.  In the past, one half of our pastoral team has strayed into a grey area that we (Dean and I) are not comfortable with and that discomfort has prevented us from attending church services in the past two years.  Ironic, I know, when we still go there once-a-week for Financial Peace University.  But it is the small-group interaction and discussion that really appeals to us - and we have found a great deal of comfort in it.  The fact remains that our fears are well-founded because of the dilution and distortion of the message.  It is not only the minister's message that can stray.  It is every adult that the kids come into contact with.  Sunday school is a big gamble.  What are these adults saying to our children?  I don't want my children to grow up thinking that the story of Noah's Ark was REAL.  That Adam and Eve and all of the (gasp) trouble she 'caused' was REAL.  Little ones cannot decipher between an embellished tale of wonder and what is REAL.

This blog is about our family and our homeschooling experience.  There is so much that ties into that decision.  The quandary of religion is a big part of that.  We want control over what our children are exposed to.  When a child is spending time with others, we have very real concerns about what information or experiences those adults are exposing them too.  Is it fundamental?  Objective? 

So back to the car journey this past Monday morning... Jordan is troubled.  He asks "So is that all there is?  We are just a bunch of atoms?  There is no heaven?"  Of course I am not going to sit there and dash all of his hopes of an afterlife.  This is a touchy subject for him - his mother has had to confront her own mortality in the past year, and I know that Jordan is very concerned.  I make it very clear that it all depends on WHAT YOU PERSONALLY BELIEVE.  That is the beauty of our human nature and the free will we have been given.  No one can tell us the absolute truth.  We can gather up as much information as we can, sift through it, and adhere to what speaks to us.  For me, the beauty of atoms coming together, forming a life, and then disassembling when that life is over, and then coming together to form something else... over and over again.  That speaks to me.  No soul is attached.  It is just the coming together and then the parting of atoms - yet in such a fantastical way that anything and everything in our universe is created that way.  And then disassembled.  Not destroyed, just disassembled.  There is a finite amount of materials - yet look at the diversity that surrounds us.  Pure awesomeness.

Fast forward a couple of days, and Jordan is reading a blurb about Martin Luther in his Core Knowledge book.  Long discussion on the way to church (of all places) ensues.  I cannot stress to Jordan enough about the importance that you should question the authority figures in your life that insist on exerting absolute power.  There are life lessons to be learned from history.  Do not let Martin Luther's battle with the Catholic Church and the legacy he left behind be in vain.  He, despite great personal risk, questioned the clergy's authority to take money from the masses in return for the pardoning of sins.  There is no middle man between you and God.  The church cannot control forgiveness - only you can.  The most important sources of forgiveness are the person you hurt or from within your own self.  And forgiving yourself is one of the most difficult lessons to learn in life.  Some will hurt for years, unwilling to let go of failure.  It was a good discussion.  Jordan messes up frequently - yet he has to learn to grow from the experience and move beyond the failure.  And, quite frankly, so do I.

So many great men and women have been such sources of inspiration and beacons of light for us.  I thank Lucretious and Martin Luther for giving me something to think about this week.  My visual source of inspiration this week is the image of Phoebe (from the sitcom Friends), running through Central Park.  Arms and legs going in every direction.  Hair flying.  A big grin on her face.  Unleashed...

Sorry if I throw out an elbow to far.  Sorry if I kick you in the shin.  But I will say what I think.  I will express my fears, humility, anger, frustration, happiness, hopes and dreams in a way that is meaningful to me.  The fact that I stop, think and share my feelings is the truest indication that I don't want my life to be just an endless repetition of days with no legacy of thoughts or ideas.  I hope to inspire others as well...

Here's to Phoebe...