"I've just had an apostrophe."
"I think you mean epiphany."
I'm probably quoting that wrong, but bonus points if you can tell me what that is from....
In any case, I had a homeschooling epiphany recently. Not a huge one, but a significant one nonetheless. It was something I had thought about before, but it really sunk in and I realized how to use the concept to make a difference in our homeschool - for the better.
Curriculum is a tool. It isn't the goal.
Simple, right? I read something along those lines from Sarah at Amongst Lovely Things (such a wonderful and inspiring homeschooling blog) a while back (and I'm not sure which blog post it was, otherwise I would link to it directly, but seriously, read her stuff). She talked about not letting curriculum rule you, but using curriculum as a tool to achieve a goal. At the time, I nodded along as I read it, thinking I agreed. And I did. But the reality of what that really meant, for ME, here in OUR home, is now becoming apparent. And it is relieving a lot of stress.
I'll explain with an example. This year we are studying US history and geography. I have a very nice US geography curriculum. I looked at how many lessons there are, to give myself an idea of how often we should try to do geography each week. It really stressed me out. After all, there are 50 states, and each state has a number of things to cover. If I thought of the curriculum as the goal, I'd be trying to cram it all in, whether we really have that much time to devote to it or not, because somehow finishing the curriculum in a school year = I did enough geography.
But what if I looked at it differently? What if we have a goal that isn't the curriculum? What if our goal is: learn about the states and capitals. What if I cast off the strictures of the school year and realize we don't have to do this all in one year. We can, and we very well might. But if we don't, is that going to ruin them? Do I have no further chances to teach them about the states and the capitals?
If our goal is "learn about the states and capitals," and the curriculum is our tool for doing so, suddenly my planning (and stressing) is a lot different. I don't have to figure out how to jam learning about 50 states into roughly 36 weeks of school (that would mean more than one state per week - yikes!). I can let it flow as it will. Sometimes we will go through a bunch of states in a week, or even a day, if the kids are into it. Other times we might not cover a new state for a while, if we are busy with other projects. We're flexible like that, and I want to be, but it is hard to maintain flexibility without stress and guilt if the curriculum is the end goal.
So I'm keeping that in mind as we settle into another school year. I'm writing down some goals, and they aren't "finish X curriculum." I'm focusing on what I want the kids to get out of certain subjects, or what I want to emphasize, and the curriculum we use is a means to an end, not the end in and of itself. And that feels pretty good.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
First day of school!
I don't know about you, but we had a great summer. There have been so many things I've wanted to write about, but I was a little busy this summer writing a book. (Squee!) We had a summer full of sun and play and lots and lots and lots of free time. My writing frenzy translated into a lot of play outside time for my kids - definitely a good, old fashioned summer. They spent quarters at garage sales, held a lemonade stand, rode bikes, climbed trees and played countless games with their friends in the neighborhood.
This year I have a fourth grader, a second grader and a kindergartner. It is still sinking in that my youngest baby is five years old and I no longer have a preschooler. I've had at least one child in preschool (or at preschool level) since like 2008. It is crazy to think that my kids are all in the elementary zone.
This is our fourth year of homeschooling (which also seems crazy), and I've learned a lot about what works for us and what doesn't. I've learned that simplicity is a good thing, over-planning (which is my natural tendency) is rarely worth it, my kids come up with better project ideas than I do, and I have to pace myself with read alouds or I lose my voice (that's one I was reminded of today).
We'll be tackling more writing projects, US history and geography, astronomy and probably some life science later in the year, a lineup of fun books to read and dissect, as well as the mainstays like math and reading and handwriting.
I'm excited to start another school year with my kids. Every year is different, and we adapt and change, finding new ways to learn and have fun. I don't exactly run a Pinterest-worthy homeschool, but we delve deep into our interests, experience a lot of interesting things, and spend a ton of time creating and building. Like I always say to people who ask me about homeschooling, it works well for our family.
Heck, it works AWESOME for our family.
I'd love to be among those posting cute first day of school pictures of my kids, but so far I have not convinced two of the three to get dressed, so pictures will have to wait. I'm not gonna lie, clothing is definitely optional at the Frank Academy of Awesomeness (although underwear is required).
Happy first day of school!
Thursday, May 22, 2014
A simple picture
My husband picks up the boys from their jiu jitsu class on Thursdays so I can take Ella to gymnastics. It works out nicely because not only does it mean slightly less running around for me, but Daddy gets to watch them practice.
Typically, their jiu jitsu class ends with 10-15 minutes of grappling matches. The coach matches the kids up based on both size and skill and they get the chance to practice what they've been learning. The kids who aren't grappling sit on the side and watch.
Today, during a grappling match while our boys were sitting on the side watching, my husband snapped this picture:
They had no idea he took it. I don't think they've seen it yet. They weren't posing, they weren't asked to sit near each other, to put their arms around each other. They were sitting like that, together, watching their classmates.
Because that's how they roll.
My husband and I value family closeness a lot. Things like eating together and playing games and spending time as a family come naturally to us because this little group of crazies, this is where it's at for us. Things aren't always sunshine and unicorns, because we're all human; but fostering a family environment that values closeness and cohesiveness is important to us. It isn't even something we necessarily consciously strive for; it just is.
But even with our commitment to creating a close family, I don't know how we got so lucky.
That picture says in ways that I can't articulate in words what our family is about. I wish I could take credit for it, but that would be highly presumptuous of me. I suppose we've done some things right (and surely some things wrong). The fact that my kids are so close to one another makes my heart soar.
My children are normal little people. They get on each other's nerves and argue sometimes. And they also genuinely like each other. As homeschooled kids, they spend most of their day together, and amazingly enough, it is awesome. They miss each other when they're apart. They are the first ones they run to when something good (or bad) happens. They hug each other, they comfort each other, they have fun together. They all sleep huddled together in one room because they like being together.
I couldn't ask for anything more. When I think about what I want for them, what I wish for them in their lives, this one ranks pretty high on that list. I want them to be close. I want this family to be their safe place, their roots, their rock, their foundation. The core of that is my husband and I, but each of them have an important part to play. To see their relationships with each other blossoming is an amazing, and very humbling, experience.
I suppose this post is turning into a mommy-gush-fest. It isn't like I can write "how to have siblings who love each other in 10 easy steps." I don't have those answers, and I think in many ways it is by the grace of God that we're this lucky. But if I had to distill it down, it is simply this: it is all about love. John Lennon was on to something there. We love on them a heck of a lot, and we don't accept anything less than them loving each other. Part love and part luck, and I get a moment like this, captured in a picture.
Sometimes they simply take my breath away.
Typically, their jiu jitsu class ends with 10-15 minutes of grappling matches. The coach matches the kids up based on both size and skill and they get the chance to practice what they've been learning. The kids who aren't grappling sit on the side and watch.
Today, during a grappling match while our boys were sitting on the side watching, my husband snapped this picture:
They had no idea he took it. I don't think they've seen it yet. They weren't posing, they weren't asked to sit near each other, to put their arms around each other. They were sitting like that, together, watching their classmates.
Because that's how they roll.
My husband and I value family closeness a lot. Things like eating together and playing games and spending time as a family come naturally to us because this little group of crazies, this is where it's at for us. Things aren't always sunshine and unicorns, because we're all human; but fostering a family environment that values closeness and cohesiveness is important to us. It isn't even something we necessarily consciously strive for; it just is.
But even with our commitment to creating a close family, I don't know how we got so lucky.
That picture says in ways that I can't articulate in words what our family is about. I wish I could take credit for it, but that would be highly presumptuous of me. I suppose we've done some things right (and surely some things wrong). The fact that my kids are so close to one another makes my heart soar.
My children are normal little people. They get on each other's nerves and argue sometimes. And they also genuinely like each other. As homeschooled kids, they spend most of their day together, and amazingly enough, it is awesome. They miss each other when they're apart. They are the first ones they run to when something good (or bad) happens. They hug each other, they comfort each other, they have fun together. They all sleep huddled together in one room because they like being together.
I couldn't ask for anything more. When I think about what I want for them, what I wish for them in their lives, this one ranks pretty high on that list. I want them to be close. I want this family to be their safe place, their roots, their rock, their foundation. The core of that is my husband and I, but each of them have an important part to play. To see their relationships with each other blossoming is an amazing, and very humbling, experience.
I suppose this post is turning into a mommy-gush-fest. It isn't like I can write "how to have siblings who love each other in 10 easy steps." I don't have those answers, and I think in many ways it is by the grace of God that we're this lucky. But if I had to distill it down, it is simply this: it is all about love. John Lennon was on to something there. We love on them a heck of a lot, and we don't accept anything less than them loving each other. Part love and part luck, and I get a moment like this, captured in a picture.
Sometimes they simply take my breath away.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Fun With Poetry
We've spent some time focusing on poetry over the last several weeks. We enjoy reading poetry pretty regularly; Shel Silverstein and Jack Prelutsky are favorites around here. Recently we've done some fun writing exercises, creating our own poems, and even some acting, creating some silly dramatizations of poems as well.
Today I drew ideas from Rose, How Did You Get That Red, by Kenneth Koch, a book about teaching children to write poetry, using classic poems as inspiration. Shout out to my Aunt Linda for the book - she was kind enough to get me a copy. It is fantastic.
We read The Tyger, by William Blake
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
The whole poem is a lot of fun to read, but it does have language that children don't usually understand immediately. We spent some time talking about many of the stanzas, thinking about what the words meant and what the author was trying to say.
Then they set about writing their own poems. As suggested by Koch in "Rose, How Did You Get That Red," I suggested we imagine we were talking to a creature or thing, and had the chance to ask it questions. The subject could answer back, or not, it was their choice.
I love what they came up with this morning; I just had to share.
Ice and Water, by Grayson (age almost-7)
Ice, ice, why are you so hard?
Why aren't you soft, like water?
Water, water, why are you soft?
Why can't you be hard like ice?
Water, water, why can't you hold a hammer?
And make ice sculptures.
Why are you liquid?
The Sun, by David (age 9)
Sun, sun, why so bright?
Sun, sun come out at night.
Shine your rays upon the night.
Do you fall asleep at night?
Like a flower, gleam and glow,
In the spring, melt the snow.
Why so yellow and so bright?
You are light.
Aren't those just lovely? Ok, I am biased (just a little), but I thought they were both really sweet. I'm proud of their hard work today!
Today I drew ideas from Rose, How Did You Get That Red, by Kenneth Koch, a book about teaching children to write poetry, using classic poems as inspiration. Shout out to my Aunt Linda for the book - she was kind enough to get me a copy. It is fantastic.
We read The Tyger, by William Blake
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
The whole poem is a lot of fun to read, but it does have language that children don't usually understand immediately. We spent some time talking about many of the stanzas, thinking about what the words meant and what the author was trying to say.
Then they set about writing their own poems. As suggested by Koch in "Rose, How Did You Get That Red," I suggested we imagine we were talking to a creature or thing, and had the chance to ask it questions. The subject could answer back, or not, it was their choice.
I love what they came up with this morning; I just had to share.
Ice and Water, by Grayson (age almost-7)
Ice, ice, why are you so hard?
Why aren't you soft, like water?
Water, water, why are you soft?
Why can't you be hard like ice?
Water, water, why can't you hold a hammer?
And make ice sculptures.
Why are you liquid?
The Sun, by David (age 9)
Sun, sun, why so bright?
Sun, sun come out at night.
Shine your rays upon the night.
Do you fall asleep at night?
Like a flower, gleam and glow,
In the spring, melt the snow.
Why so yellow and so bright?
You are light.
Aren't those just lovely? Ok, I am biased (just a little), but I thought they were both really sweet. I'm proud of their hard work today!
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Reflections on 37
Today is my 37th birthday. I've never been one to worry too much about getting older. I have always seen it as simply part of life; the natural way of things. We all get older. Plus, if I start complaining about being "old" when I'm in my 30's or 40's, I am literally going to spend more than half my life complaining about my age. How does that make any sense? We either get older each year, or, well, we don't... meaning, we're dead. I'll take older, thankyouverymuch!
But sliding down the other side of my 30's, I am struck by how things have changed. I've had the same group of good friends since we were all in our 20's, and we often look around at our lives and wonder, "How did this all happen?!?" Gone are the days of hanging out after work until late on Friday nights, and sleeping in on Saturdays; of spontaneous road trips and weeknight snowboarding; of reading that 1000 page book cover to cover in 36 hours, barely coming up for air. For you, it probably looked a little different, your life as a young adult. But if you're heading towards 40 (or beyond), you have probably noticed things aren't quite the same as they were 10 or 15 years ago. (Especially if you have kids!)
So in honor of my birthday, here are some reflections on my later-30's:
Ten years ago was not 1998
Have you seen that meme? Good grief, that is SO true. I still think 10 years ago was sometime in the 90's. I'm not sure when my mental calendar is going to catch up with the rest of the earth, but I am still floored when I think about how many years have passed since certain milestones, like high school graduation or my marriage (20 years next year, and 15 years in June, respectively).
Movie theater trips are for GOOD movies
David and I were movie people. Before we had kids, we probably saw a movie at least 3 or 4 times a month. We saw just about everything. And if it was awesome, we saw it again. Now, between the expense of going to the movies (seriously, why is it so freakishly expensive!), plus the need for a babysitter, we reserve going to the movie theater for movies we really want to see on the big screen. Even movies that look enjoyable, but aren't necessarily visual or action-packed, don't make the cut. It needs to be theater-worthy, and our standards are pretty high.
"Late" has a new meaning
My first 6 or 7 years of motherhood were spent with at least one child who either a) didn't yet sleep through the night, b) woke at 6am or earlier, or c) both. I was in bed by 10pm every single night. Now my kids are more merciful and don't wake at such an awful hour (have I mentioned I am NOT a morning person?), but I still need to go to bed by 11 in order to be a nice human the next day. Staying up late used to mean 3 or 4am. Now? I'm a crazy party animal if I'm up past midnight.
Shopping for cars is all about utility, and rarely about coolness
I can't even think about cars with any sense of what might be cool to drive anymore. Cars are a tool to get from point A to point B, with a zoo of kids in tow. I wasn't a big car person before, but now? I drive a minivan. And I love that thing. Seriously, the doors slide open so I don't have to freak out about my kids dinging the car next to them! There's plenty of space so they rarely wind up elbowing each other in the back seat! What more do you need out of a car than that? I'm so out of touch with "cars as status or coolness symbol" that when my husband has asked me what kind of car I'd get if I could have any car in the world, I can't fathom anything with seating for less than 7.
I'm still me
My mom once told me that one of the strange things about getting older is that you still feel like yourself - the you from your twenties or thirties or whatever. But as the number gets higher, you feel like you ought to be different somehow. When you're 25, someone who is 40 seems a LOT older than you. You might not think of them as an "old person," but they seem like they are in a different category than you are. It's like the seniors when you're a freshman - dude, they're SENIORS. They're on some other plane of existence. In young adulthood, adults who are a decade or more older than you seem similar - older, more experienced, maybe lamer (maybe not). But then you hit that age, and you think, "Wait, I'm not lame. I'm not some old fuddy duddy. I'm still ME. I'm still the ME that I was when I thought 37-year-olds were like waaaay older than me." And yet now you're the 37 year old. Or in this case, I am. Weird.
Getting older is a funny thing. We move through seasons of life and watch things change, and yet who we are, at our core, remains. I have more experience and (hopefully) more wisdom than I once did. I'm rockin' a little bit of pixie dust in my hair, and my life has certainly changed in a lot of ways. But I'm still me.
With a minivan.
But sliding down the other side of my 30's, I am struck by how things have changed. I've had the same group of good friends since we were all in our 20's, and we often look around at our lives and wonder, "How did this all happen?!?" Gone are the days of hanging out after work until late on Friday nights, and sleeping in on Saturdays; of spontaneous road trips and weeknight snowboarding; of reading that 1000 page book cover to cover in 36 hours, barely coming up for air. For you, it probably looked a little different, your life as a young adult. But if you're heading towards 40 (or beyond), you have probably noticed things aren't quite the same as they were 10 or 15 years ago. (Especially if you have kids!)
So in honor of my birthday, here are some reflections on my later-30's:
Ten years ago was not 1998
Have you seen that meme? Good grief, that is SO true. I still think 10 years ago was sometime in the 90's. I'm not sure when my mental calendar is going to catch up with the rest of the earth, but I am still floored when I think about how many years have passed since certain milestones, like high school graduation or my marriage (20 years next year, and 15 years in June, respectively).
Movie theater trips are for GOOD movies
David and I were movie people. Before we had kids, we probably saw a movie at least 3 or 4 times a month. We saw just about everything. And if it was awesome, we saw it again. Now, between the expense of going to the movies (seriously, why is it so freakishly expensive!), plus the need for a babysitter, we reserve going to the movie theater for movies we really want to see on the big screen. Even movies that look enjoyable, but aren't necessarily visual or action-packed, don't make the cut. It needs to be theater-worthy, and our standards are pretty high.
"Late" has a new meaning
My first 6 or 7 years of motherhood were spent with at least one child who either a) didn't yet sleep through the night, b) woke at 6am or earlier, or c) both. I was in bed by 10pm every single night. Now my kids are more merciful and don't wake at such an awful hour (have I mentioned I am NOT a morning person?), but I still need to go to bed by 11 in order to be a nice human the next day. Staying up late used to mean 3 or 4am. Now? I'm a crazy party animal if I'm up past midnight.
Shopping for cars is all about utility, and rarely about coolness
I can't even think about cars with any sense of what might be cool to drive anymore. Cars are a tool to get from point A to point B, with a zoo of kids in tow. I wasn't a big car person before, but now? I drive a minivan. And I love that thing. Seriously, the doors slide open so I don't have to freak out about my kids dinging the car next to them! There's plenty of space so they rarely wind up elbowing each other in the back seat! What more do you need out of a car than that? I'm so out of touch with "cars as status or coolness symbol" that when my husband has asked me what kind of car I'd get if I could have any car in the world, I can't fathom anything with seating for less than 7.
I'm still me
My mom once told me that one of the strange things about getting older is that you still feel like yourself - the you from your twenties or thirties or whatever. But as the number gets higher, you feel like you ought to be different somehow. When you're 25, someone who is 40 seems a LOT older than you. You might not think of them as an "old person," but they seem like they are in a different category than you are. It's like the seniors when you're a freshman - dude, they're SENIORS. They're on some other plane of existence. In young adulthood, adults who are a decade or more older than you seem similar - older, more experienced, maybe lamer (maybe not). But then you hit that age, and you think, "Wait, I'm not lame. I'm not some old fuddy duddy. I'm still ME. I'm still the ME that I was when I thought 37-year-olds were like waaaay older than me." And yet now you're the 37 year old. Or in this case, I am. Weird.
Getting older is a funny thing. We move through seasons of life and watch things change, and yet who we are, at our core, remains. I have more experience and (hopefully) more wisdom than I once did. I'm rockin' a little bit of pixie dust in my hair, and my life has certainly changed in a lot of ways. But I'm still me.
With a minivan.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Our medieval feast
My kids decided weeks ago that they wanted to have a medieval feast. We've been reading and learning about the middle ages over the last few months, and this seemed like a fun way to wrap up our study of this fascinating time period.
I wanted to keep it simple. No roasting a suckling pig all day or making seven courses of decorated tartlets and meat pies. Medieval lords had a staff of cooks and servants - they simply had to shell out the gold, show up, and eat all day. Me? No staff here. So simple it was. We invited some family, served some good food, and the boys put on a show - good times.
The boys had been working for days on their knight costumes. David even sewed himself a cloak.
It turned out really well. They also used poster board, card stock and a lot of duct tape to make armor. Add to that their shields bearing the colors they chose and their coats of arms, and they were decked out!
Dinner, as I said, was simple - but awesome, if I do say so myself. We had roasted turkey legs, ham (of course they had Honeybaked ham in the middle ages, duh!), soup, crusty bread, and some assorted cheese and fruit plates. It was easy to throw together, and everyone had a great meal. Since there wasn't a ton of preparation involved in making dinner, I made a couple of medieval-inspired desserts. The apple turnovers may not have been strictly authentic, but pastries with fruit filling were common at feasts; and they were delicious, thanks to my amazing Grandma's apple pie recipe. I also made some lemon cakes, which were somewhat authentic, although made with modern ingredients. And they were good - really good. Seriously, go make some.
We had medieval harp music on in the background (thank you Spotify). We said it was a minstrel in the corner, certainly not a cell phone hooked up to a set of speakers. The kids also made some decorations to make our feast more medieval.
After dinner, the two Prince Knights did battle in the arena! I wish my camera had not chosen that moment to run out of batteries, but I did get part of their tournament. It was a lot of fun. They wound up calling it a draw at the end, hugging and bowing to each other. Seriously, these kids are ridiculous. I love them. (And I can't get the video to upload here, but here's a picture of the beginning of their battle.)
It was a great evening. We enjoy any excuse to invite family and friends to eat lots of good food, so this was right up our alley. And keeping it simple meant it wasn't a source of stress or tons of work for me (which can definitely happen when my kids have ambitious ideas). Maybe we'll have some fun and do a big meal from other time periods we study.
I wanted to keep it simple. No roasting a suckling pig all day or making seven courses of decorated tartlets and meat pies. Medieval lords had a staff of cooks and servants - they simply had to shell out the gold, show up, and eat all day. Me? No staff here. So simple it was. We invited some family, served some good food, and the boys put on a show - good times.
The boys had been working for days on their knight costumes. David even sewed himself a cloak.
It turned out really well. They also used poster board, card stock and a lot of duct tape to make armor. Add to that their shields bearing the colors they chose and their coats of arms, and they were decked out!
Dinner, as I said, was simple - but awesome, if I do say so myself. We had roasted turkey legs, ham (of course they had Honeybaked ham in the middle ages, duh!), soup, crusty bread, and some assorted cheese and fruit plates. It was easy to throw together, and everyone had a great meal. Since there wasn't a ton of preparation involved in making dinner, I made a couple of medieval-inspired desserts. The apple turnovers may not have been strictly authentic, but pastries with fruit filling were common at feasts; and they were delicious, thanks to my amazing Grandma's apple pie recipe. I also made some lemon cakes, which were somewhat authentic, although made with modern ingredients. And they were good - really good. Seriously, go make some.
 |
| Our table. Yes, those are paper plates. Remember the not having of servants? Yeah. |
 |
| Torches! |
 |
| Ella made this torch all by herself. I love that she added flower and butterfly stickers |
 |
| The sign David made to greet our guests. It might be hard to see in the photo, but he drew dragon heads and the tissue paper is their fire breath |
It was a great evening. We enjoy any excuse to invite family and friends to eat lots of good food, so this was right up our alley. And keeping it simple meant it wasn't a source of stress or tons of work for me (which can definitely happen when my kids have ambitious ideas). Maybe we'll have some fun and do a big meal from other time periods we study.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Illuminated manuscripts and why I joke about being a lazy homeschooler
One of the largely agreed upon benefits of homeschooling, at least amongst fellow homeschooling families, is the flexibility. Sometimes that means taking a vacation in November and enjoying shorter lines at Disneyland without the concerns of kids missing class. Sometimes flexibility is a little smaller; a simple matter of watching your kids interest pique and allowing an unforeseen and unplanned diversion to take shape.
Today we read, Marguerite Makes a Book, a lovely story about Marguerite, a girl living in 15th century Paris. Her father is an aging manuscript illuminator; a highly sought after artist who is currently behind on completing a prayer book for a noble woman. When her father's glasses are broken, Marguerite takes it upon herself to complete the beautiful illuminations so the book will be complete on time.
About half way through the story, as Marguerite is painting using the paints she has just mixed herself, Grayson exclaimed that we should do a project and make our own illuminated manuscripts, just like Marguerite. Then he said he wanted to make a book of all the prayers he knows, and illustrate the pages.
Clearly the answer to that request is a resounding yes.
The results are enough to make this homeschooling mama's heart soar. First of all, multitasking awesomeness. We have art, penmanship, reading and history all rolled into one. Are you kidding me with that? Plus, they were so interested and invested in their work, they all sat at the table, carefully drawing their designs and painstakingly copying the words. It was so... quiet.
Grayson chose a prayer, while David thumbed through a book of poetry and found one he liked that wasn't too long. Ella wanted hers to look "just like Grayson's," so she watched him carefully and tried to copy his pictures.
We never made it to the other work I had laid out for the day. We had outside activities this afternoon, and this took up the time we had left before lunch. But I wouldn't trade it for all the pre-planned, checklist checking-off in the world. Today was awesome.
Are all our days this good? Well no, not really. Most days we go through our schoolwork for the day and move on to other stuff, and it is fine. But once in a while I see that light in their eyes and they come up with an idea that turns out awesome.
Days like today are why I joke about being a lazy homeschooler. I'm not really, but I have relaxed my approach and found that less is often more. I used to try to plan all sorts of projects and activities - but it was hard to keep up with them, many fell flat, and I felt like I was putting more work into all of this than was necessary. Now that I plan less, I find we do more - and not only more, but projects that interest and motivate them like nothing I could have planned for.
Today we read, Marguerite Makes a Book, a lovely story about Marguerite, a girl living in 15th century Paris. Her father is an aging manuscript illuminator; a highly sought after artist who is currently behind on completing a prayer book for a noble woman. When her father's glasses are broken, Marguerite takes it upon herself to complete the beautiful illuminations so the book will be complete on time.
About half way through the story, as Marguerite is painting using the paints she has just mixed herself, Grayson exclaimed that we should do a project and make our own illuminated manuscripts, just like Marguerite. Then he said he wanted to make a book of all the prayers he knows, and illustrate the pages.
Clearly the answer to that request is a resounding yes.
The results are enough to make this homeschooling mama's heart soar. First of all, multitasking awesomeness. We have art, penmanship, reading and history all rolled into one. Are you kidding me with that? Plus, they were so interested and invested in their work, they all sat at the table, carefully drawing their designs and painstakingly copying the words. It was so... quiet.
Grayson chose a prayer, while David thumbed through a book of poetry and found one he liked that wasn't too long. Ella wanted hers to look "just like Grayson's," so she watched him carefully and tried to copy his pictures.
We never made it to the other work I had laid out for the day. We had outside activities this afternoon, and this took up the time we had left before lunch. But I wouldn't trade it for all the pre-planned, checklist checking-off in the world. Today was awesome.
Are all our days this good? Well no, not really. Most days we go through our schoolwork for the day and move on to other stuff, and it is fine. But once in a while I see that light in their eyes and they come up with an idea that turns out awesome.
Days like today are why I joke about being a lazy homeschooler. I'm not really, but I have relaxed my approach and found that less is often more. I used to try to plan all sorts of projects and activities - but it was hard to keep up with them, many fell flat, and I felt like I was putting more work into all of this than was necessary. Now that I plan less, I find we do more - and not only more, but projects that interest and motivate them like nothing I could have planned for.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Sometimes I just can't interrupt
Most days, I have a rough plan for what I'd like to accomplish that day. We do things like reading, math, spelling and so forth on a regular basis. We do science labs and read alouds and all sorts of things. I used to plan things by the day, but I found that taking a more relaxed approach fit our family better. Although I don't write lesson plans that tell me what to do each day, I do have a sequence of things to accomplish, in a rough order (or a strict order, depending on the subject), and we move through those things as we go. I usually start the day with a plan of what we'll do that day, and it helps me stay on track and make sure we're accomplishing what we need to accomplish.
The thing is, sometimes I just can't interrupt them.
Today is a great example. This morning, they were building Lego stuff, so I pulled out a couple of books and read aloud. Yesterday we got a new book, Design Your Own Coat of Arms, so we took that out and the boys immediately wanted to design their own heraldry. This was something I'd planned to do as part of our history studies, but I didn't pre-plan it for today. They got really excited about it, and carefully crafted their designs. Afterwards, they wound up spending the morning making cardboard shields with plans to include their new coats of arms on them.
If I was still trying to check off all the boxes on my list, I'd have stopped them. To be fair, I probably wouldn't have, but I'd have felt pressure to get through the rest of our list this afternoon, and would have been madly erasing our schedule and rewriting it to make it fit with the time we have left this week.
After lunch, I figured we'd do our "seatwork" - things like cursive and handwriting, math, spelling, etc. The kids drifted into the school room while I finished my lunch, and fired up their favorite art website (Art for Kids Hub is great!). All three of them went to work drawing sharks and dolphins, first following the video instructions, and then continuing to enhance their drawings on their own. Grayson told me a very elaborate story about his great white shark trying to eat a hammerhead shark, who was trying to eat a fish. And then the dolphin came along and leapt out of the water to avoid the shark.
An hour later later, they are all still sitting at the table, drawing and telling each other stories.
I just can't interrupt.
The thing is, sometimes I just can't interrupt them.
Today is a great example. This morning, they were building Lego stuff, so I pulled out a couple of books and read aloud. Yesterday we got a new book, Design Your Own Coat of Arms, so we took that out and the boys immediately wanted to design their own heraldry. This was something I'd planned to do as part of our history studies, but I didn't pre-plan it for today. They got really excited about it, and carefully crafted their designs. Afterwards, they wound up spending the morning making cardboard shields with plans to include their new coats of arms on them.
 |
| Grayson decided to be an "American Knight" and David wants to be the "Green Knight." |
If I was still trying to check off all the boxes on my list, I'd have stopped them. To be fair, I probably wouldn't have, but I'd have felt pressure to get through the rest of our list this afternoon, and would have been madly erasing our schedule and rewriting it to make it fit with the time we have left this week.
After lunch, I figured we'd do our "seatwork" - things like cursive and handwriting, math, spelling, etc. The kids drifted into the school room while I finished my lunch, and fired up their favorite art website (Art for Kids Hub is great!). All three of them went to work drawing sharks and dolphins, first following the video instructions, and then continuing to enhance their drawings on their own. Grayson told me a very elaborate story about his great white shark trying to eat a hammerhead shark, who was trying to eat a fish. And then the dolphin came along and leapt out of the water to avoid the shark.
 |
| Grayson's is on the left; David's is on the top right and Ella's on the bottom right. |
An hour later later, they are all still sitting at the table, drawing and telling each other stories.
I just can't interrupt.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Everything. In my face.
I know plenty of things have been written, both in seriousness and in jest, about the trials and tribulations of being a stay-home-mom. I've heard everything from mind-numbing to fulfilling, from desperate housewives to dedicated homemakers.
The truth - actually, not THE truth, but A truth, which is to say, MY truth - is that being a stay home mom is wonderful and rewarding and I wouldn't want my life to be anything other than what it is right now. And, it can be pretty hard.
The hard thing for me (at least lately) is based on two simple facts. One, I will never be caught up on anything. And two, all the things I am never caught up on will always be staring me in the face. I live here, I work here, I even school my kids here, so the work, the laundry, the dishes, the cooking, the cleaning, the playing, the picking up, the everything is always right here.
In my face.
Maybe I have a slightly overactive imagination, but I'm pretty sure the laundry in my house has a personality and it likes to mock me. It isn't very nice. I walk into my room a dozen times a day and see the overflowing hampers and think, "Gee, I should really do one or two or thirty loads today." But I was walking through my room, not to pick up the book by my bedside table, curl up under the covers and read for a few hours, but to get something in order to do something else that really needs to be done. So in that moment, I have to pick between doing what I was there to do, or doing laundry. So the hamper stays.
In my face.
I walk through my kitchen a minimum of 800 times a day, as these growing children seem to need a constant stream of calories in order to maintain their skinny little selves. The dishes pile up, and I know I ought to take care of them, but something else always beckons. We were in the midst of painting a volcano or reading Pippi Longstocking or I promised them apples and milk. So the dishes stay.
In my face.
My day is made up of decisions - decisions of how to spend each moment. Do I get this done, or that? Do I spend time here, or over there? It all calls to me. It all needs to be finished. The bills need to be paid, and we all need clean clothes to wear and food to eat, and being able to walk without piercing your foot on a demon Lego piece is also nice. There is always, without fail, too much to do over the course of any given day, so all day long I am deciding, prioritizing and leaving things undone.
What I ought to do is focus on what I accomplished today. What DID get done. But do I do so? No, I don't. I run through my mental checklist of what should be finished, and always find things left undone. I'm fixated on the negative. And the knowledge that tomorrow will be more of the same - more things I won't get to, won't accomplish, won't finish - it wears me out.
I'm not sure what the solution is, really. As much as I love lists, I long ago stopped making checklists that included things like laundry, because you never, ever get to check it off as being done. I've tried being more organized, and I've tried letting it all go and purposefully being less organized. I suspect the key has something to do with embracing the chaos and the mess, and unfollowing everyone on my Pinterest feed that pins things about homemaking and organization.
What should I focus on, at the end of the day, when there are still lego sets on the dining table, a random pile of kid's clothes next to the couch (because Ella simply can't stay dressed in the same outfit for more than 10 minutes), and a myriad of other things that will be demanding my attention tomorrow?
Maybe things like this.
And this.
Or this.
This.
Even this.
And most certainly this.
Perhaps the measure of my success as a stay at home mother is not the state of my home, but the state of the relationships within it.
Now that is a thought I am going to take to bed with me tonight.
The truth - actually, not THE truth, but A truth, which is to say, MY truth - is that being a stay home mom is wonderful and rewarding and I wouldn't want my life to be anything other than what it is right now. And, it can be pretty hard.
The hard thing for me (at least lately) is based on two simple facts. One, I will never be caught up on anything. And two, all the things I am never caught up on will always be staring me in the face. I live here, I work here, I even school my kids here, so the work, the laundry, the dishes, the cooking, the cleaning, the playing, the picking up, the everything is always right here.
In my face.
Maybe I have a slightly overactive imagination, but I'm pretty sure the laundry in my house has a personality and it likes to mock me. It isn't very nice. I walk into my room a dozen times a day and see the overflowing hampers and think, "Gee, I should really do one or two or thirty loads today." But I was walking through my room, not to pick up the book by my bedside table, curl up under the covers and read for a few hours, but to get something in order to do something else that really needs to be done. So in that moment, I have to pick between doing what I was there to do, or doing laundry. So the hamper stays.
In my face.
I walk through my kitchen a minimum of 800 times a day, as these growing children seem to need a constant stream of calories in order to maintain their skinny little selves. The dishes pile up, and I know I ought to take care of them, but something else always beckons. We were in the midst of painting a volcano or reading Pippi Longstocking or I promised them apples and milk. So the dishes stay.
In my face.
My day is made up of decisions - decisions of how to spend each moment. Do I get this done, or that? Do I spend time here, or over there? It all calls to me. It all needs to be finished. The bills need to be paid, and we all need clean clothes to wear and food to eat, and being able to walk without piercing your foot on a demon Lego piece is also nice. There is always, without fail, too much to do over the course of any given day, so all day long I am deciding, prioritizing and leaving things undone.
What I ought to do is focus on what I accomplished today. What DID get done. But do I do so? No, I don't. I run through my mental checklist of what should be finished, and always find things left undone. I'm fixated on the negative. And the knowledge that tomorrow will be more of the same - more things I won't get to, won't accomplish, won't finish - it wears me out.
I'm not sure what the solution is, really. As much as I love lists, I long ago stopped making checklists that included things like laundry, because you never, ever get to check it off as being done. I've tried being more organized, and I've tried letting it all go and purposefully being less organized. I suspect the key has something to do with embracing the chaos and the mess, and unfollowing everyone on my Pinterest feed that pins things about homemaking and organization.
What should I focus on, at the end of the day, when there are still lego sets on the dining table, a random pile of kid's clothes next to the couch (because Ella simply can't stay dressed in the same outfit for more than 10 minutes), and a myriad of other things that will be demanding my attention tomorrow?
Maybe things like this.
And this.
Or this.
This.
Even this.
And most certainly this.
Perhaps the measure of my success as a stay at home mother is not the state of my home, but the state of the relationships within it.
Now that is a thought I am going to take to bed with me tonight.
Monday, January 6, 2014
The seasons of the homeschool year
Like a lot of things in life, homeschooling has a rhythm to it; a cyclical pattern that follows the seasons. Obviously this plays out differently for different families, but I've found over the last few years that there is a typical pattern in how the year flows. It goes something like this:
Late summer: Anticipation
She's done all the planning and prepping and researching. She's ordered her curriculum and books and resources. A cup of freshly sharpened pencils adorns the table, the crayons haven't been broken and there's a stack of fifty-cent composition notebooks on the bookshelf. Heck, she doesn't even know what she's going to do with them, but they were on sale! The paint brushes aren't crusty and the books are all shiny and new. She has a great plan and she looks with eager anticipation for the new school year to begin so she can begin implementing her well though out, thoroughly researched, and no doubt exciting and stimulating plans. This year is going to be great, she thinks to herself.
Fall: Determination
The first day wasn't exactly as idyllic as she envisioned, but over the ensuing weeks, she works out the kinks in her plans and they settle into a decent routine. She adjusts to the pixie-small attention span of her kindergartner, discovers a few ways to keep her older child challenged, and they plow ahead with the books and curriculum... mostly. There's always a casualty along the way; a book left by the wayside that no one really liked or a subject that isn't going quite as quickly or as smoothly as she thought. But she moves through fall with determination that yes, this year will still be great!
Holidays: The Big Exhale
Phew! We made it! No, it might to be the half way mark of the school year, but it is usually a nice break and a chance to regroup. Who doesn't like reevaluating things as you approach New Years! She takes some breaths, catches up on laundry for the first time in four months, and moves into January with some renewed energy.
February: The Two Fevers
February is the shortest month of the year, but to many a homeschooling mother, it is the longest. She heads into the bleak, boring wintry days of February without any sparkling holidays to look forward to (Valentine's Day hardly counts). The weather is cold, snowy or rainy with nary a sign of spring in sight. She starts to get a bit of cabin fever, when a new kind of fever sets in - planning fever! It seems like the perfect time to begin fervently researching possibilities for next year!
Early spring: A New Hope
She plans, she reads, and she takes heart in the things that are working well. She may even put aside the things that aren't working, finally letting go of the shackles of failed curriculum, knowing her plans for next year are even better. The sun breaks through the haze of winter, park playdates pop up on her meetup calendar, and there may even be a picnic or two.
May through June: Racing.. or maybe limping, to the finish
Depending on how things have gone, the race to the finish may be more like a slow slog. The weather gets better, which lifts her spirits, but also increases the wiggle-factor of her children. Many aren't coming to the start of a long summer vacation, but even those that school year round are probably approaching a break. She is ready to cast off routine for a while, let the broken crayons sit in their container, the crusty paint brushes dry out and embrace the season of sunshine - or at least "less rain" if you live here in the Pacific Northwest. She made it through another year, and she gets to recharge her batteries just a bit and revel in the anticipation of a new school year to come.
Those plans for next year, they sure do look good. It will be the best year yet....
Late summer: Anticipation
She's done all the planning and prepping and researching. She's ordered her curriculum and books and resources. A cup of freshly sharpened pencils adorns the table, the crayons haven't been broken and there's a stack of fifty-cent composition notebooks on the bookshelf. Heck, she doesn't even know what she's going to do with them, but they were on sale! The paint brushes aren't crusty and the books are all shiny and new. She has a great plan and she looks with eager anticipation for the new school year to begin so she can begin implementing her well though out, thoroughly researched, and no doubt exciting and stimulating plans. This year is going to be great, she thinks to herself.
Fall: Determination
The first day wasn't exactly as idyllic as she envisioned, but over the ensuing weeks, she works out the kinks in her plans and they settle into a decent routine. She adjusts to the pixie-small attention span of her kindergartner, discovers a few ways to keep her older child challenged, and they plow ahead with the books and curriculum... mostly. There's always a casualty along the way; a book left by the wayside that no one really liked or a subject that isn't going quite as quickly or as smoothly as she thought. But she moves through fall with determination that yes, this year will still be great!
Holidays: The Big Exhale
Phew! We made it! No, it might to be the half way mark of the school year, but it is usually a nice break and a chance to regroup. Who doesn't like reevaluating things as you approach New Years! She takes some breaths, catches up on laundry for the first time in four months, and moves into January with some renewed energy.
February: The Two Fevers
February is the shortest month of the year, but to many a homeschooling mother, it is the longest. She heads into the bleak, boring wintry days of February without any sparkling holidays to look forward to (Valentine's Day hardly counts). The weather is cold, snowy or rainy with nary a sign of spring in sight. She starts to get a bit of cabin fever, when a new kind of fever sets in - planning fever! It seems like the perfect time to begin fervently researching possibilities for next year!
Early spring: A New Hope
She plans, she reads, and she takes heart in the things that are working well. She may even put aside the things that aren't working, finally letting go of the shackles of failed curriculum, knowing her plans for next year are even better. The sun breaks through the haze of winter, park playdates pop up on her meetup calendar, and there may even be a picnic or two.
May through June: Racing.. or maybe limping, to the finish
Depending on how things have gone, the race to the finish may be more like a slow slog. The weather gets better, which lifts her spirits, but also increases the wiggle-factor of her children. Many aren't coming to the start of a long summer vacation, but even those that school year round are probably approaching a break. She is ready to cast off routine for a while, let the broken crayons sit in their container, the crusty paint brushes dry out and embrace the season of sunshine - or at least "less rain" if you live here in the Pacific Northwest. She made it through another year, and she gets to recharge her batteries just a bit and revel in the anticipation of a new school year to come.
Those plans for next year, they sure do look good. It will be the best year yet....
Monday, December 30, 2013
Invented worries
One of the biggest pieces of baggage you pick up when you get on the homeschooling train is worry. We all worry about our kids to varying degrees and for many reasons. Even the most laid back moms and dads are bound to find themselves prey to the worry monster now and again. Am I feeding them well? Are they getting enough activity? Should I enroll them in that class? Should I let them quit the team? Am I reading to them often enough? Do they watch too much TV? Am I doing a good enough job?!?
Adding "primary educator" to an already lengthy job description packs on a lot of room for more worries. Are we doing enough schoolwork? Are we doing too much schoolwork? (Often two worries you'll have in the same day). Do they need more time with friends? Do they need more challenges? Do they need a new activity? Should I enroll them in something else? What about a co-op? Is this homeschool group a good fit? Am I moving them ahead too quickly? Too slowly? Am I doing a good enough job?!?!?
Once in a while it is helpful to stop and look at things with a wee bit more logic than emotion. It is easy to get wrapped up in all those worries and what-ifs and let the image you have in your head of how things ought to be get in the way of seeing how things really are.
Case in point, I have been worrying lately that my kids aren't getting enough opportunities to make new friends. We moved, and while our new homeschool group is nice, but we haven't made a lot of strong connections, especially for David, who is certainly the more social of my minions. I kept thinking about whether to try a small co-op, or jump into the rather large one in the area; or find some other activity to sign him up for that will give him the chance to make more friends. There are some options, but I kept going back and forth on what would be best, what would work with our schedule, and so forth.
I wasn't happy with any of the options, really, and it was bugging me that I couldn't find something that seemed like the perfect fit. Add in my already dramatic propensity for overthinking and I was running myself in mental circles over this one. What I had forgotten to do was probably the first logical step - ask my kids what they wanted.
Today I randomly asked them if they were interested in something like a co-op or other group that meets regularly. The boys both looked at me funny and said something along the lines of, "Not really."
I was stopped dead in my tracks. Didn't they need more time with other kids? Aren't they both pining for more opportunities to meet and hang out with other kids around their age? Aren't they feeling left out and sad because they have only met a few kids they have connected with since we moved?
Nope, apparently not. I asked David more specifically about whether he felt like he needed somewhere to meet more kids his age and he said no. They have a few friends in the neighborhood to hang out with in the afternoons, and he's made a couple friends through our new homeschool group. As I was prodding him, he looked up at me and said, "Mom, it isn't like I'm some lonely kid with no one to play with. I'm good." Grayson echoed the same sentiment.
So here I was, googling and researching and worrying about a problem that didn't even exist. Literally. I spent all that energy on something that wasn't even a problem to begin with.
Yes, I know Mr. Spock. Highly illogical.
So cross that worry off my list. We are starting some new things in the new year - gymnastics for Grayson and Ella and kung fu for David - so that will be a new experience and we'll see where it takes us. And both boys are clamoring for team sports, so I see that in our future as well. I should probably chill myself out and not go from under scheduled to over scheduled. My conversation with them today was a great reminder for me to get out of my head once in a while and take into account their actual needs, not just what I think their needs might be. If they're feeling bored, or lonely, or want something that we aren't doing, they'll speak up. In the meantime, I have enough to worry about without inventing new problems to fret over.
Adding "primary educator" to an already lengthy job description packs on a lot of room for more worries. Are we doing enough schoolwork? Are we doing too much schoolwork? (Often two worries you'll have in the same day). Do they need more time with friends? Do they need more challenges? Do they need a new activity? Should I enroll them in something else? What about a co-op? Is this homeschool group a good fit? Am I moving them ahead too quickly? Too slowly? Am I doing a good enough job?!?!?
Once in a while it is helpful to stop and look at things with a wee bit more logic than emotion. It is easy to get wrapped up in all those worries and what-ifs and let the image you have in your head of how things ought to be get in the way of seeing how things really are.
Case in point, I have been worrying lately that my kids aren't getting enough opportunities to make new friends. We moved, and while our new homeschool group is nice, but we haven't made a lot of strong connections, especially for David, who is certainly the more social of my minions. I kept thinking about whether to try a small co-op, or jump into the rather large one in the area; or find some other activity to sign him up for that will give him the chance to make more friends. There are some options, but I kept going back and forth on what would be best, what would work with our schedule, and so forth.
I wasn't happy with any of the options, really, and it was bugging me that I couldn't find something that seemed like the perfect fit. Add in my already dramatic propensity for overthinking and I was running myself in mental circles over this one. What I had forgotten to do was probably the first logical step - ask my kids what they wanted.
Today I randomly asked them if they were interested in something like a co-op or other group that meets regularly. The boys both looked at me funny and said something along the lines of, "Not really."
I was stopped dead in my tracks. Didn't they need more time with other kids? Aren't they both pining for more opportunities to meet and hang out with other kids around their age? Aren't they feeling left out and sad because they have only met a few kids they have connected with since we moved?
Nope, apparently not. I asked David more specifically about whether he felt like he needed somewhere to meet more kids his age and he said no. They have a few friends in the neighborhood to hang out with in the afternoons, and he's made a couple friends through our new homeschool group. As I was prodding him, he looked up at me and said, "Mom, it isn't like I'm some lonely kid with no one to play with. I'm good." Grayson echoed the same sentiment.
So here I was, googling and researching and worrying about a problem that didn't even exist. Literally. I spent all that energy on something that wasn't even a problem to begin with.
Yes, I know Mr. Spock. Highly illogical.
So cross that worry off my list. We are starting some new things in the new year - gymnastics for Grayson and Ella and kung fu for David - so that will be a new experience and we'll see where it takes us. And both boys are clamoring for team sports, so I see that in our future as well. I should probably chill myself out and not go from under scheduled to over scheduled. My conversation with them today was a great reminder for me to get out of my head once in a while and take into account their actual needs, not just what I think their needs might be. If they're feeling bored, or lonely, or want something that we aren't doing, they'll speak up. In the meantime, I have enough to worry about without inventing new problems to fret over.
Monday, December 16, 2013
A few holiday confessions
I love this time of year. There is so much to love about Advent and Christmas, and from about Halloween onward, I feel like I'm in holiday mode. But I'm not one of those moms who seems all put together and ties everything with homemade bows and has a house full of Pinteresty decor.
With all the blog posts I'm seeing about great holiday crafts, unit studies and activities, I thought I'd go the other direction and keep it real up in here. Without further ado, or any ado at all, a few holiday confessions from my neck of the woods:
I haven't sent out Christmas cards in years
Usually I'm a traditionalist and I hate to see things change due to modernization or technology, but this is one I haven't kept up with. I love the idea of sending out an adorable photo of my kids to friends and loved ones, but I never wind up actually doing it. I have sent them out a few times since having kids, but not regularly and not in the last few years. I used to use the excuse that I had babies or toddlers and it was too much work. Now my kids are old enough that probably isn't such a good excuse. For now, I'll stay with "I'm keeping things simple." True enough.
Painting projects with my kids make me want to drink heavily
This isn't necessarily holiday related, but it seems like the requests for projects involving paint multiply this time of year. I so want to be that mom, who has arts and crafts going for her kids all the time, regardless of the mess (because my kids LOVE that stuff), and in some ways I am. I'm pretty free with the art supplies and David especially makes so many projects, I'm surprised we aren't buried in them. But getting the paint out always stresses me out. They painted ornaments recently and it was... trying. Maybe when Ella is older and less prone to getting paint all over herself and subsequently touching everything, it won't be so tension inducing. But for now, ugh.
I love to bake, but I rarely bake lots of cookies
This one is easy. If I make them, I eat them. Don't tell me that I can simply give them away, be a friendly neighbor and give away plates of cookies and all that. I would do that (and have, in the past), but it wouldn't stop me from eating my weight in sugar. There's that block of time from mixing bowl (because yum, cookie dough) to packaging for distribution and my willpower is exactly zero. Especially for my own baking. If I want to fit into my jeans by Christmas day, I can't spend a month baking dozens of cookies.
We buy too much stuff for our kids
Every year - every single year - we say we won't do it. We say we'll be more moderate, more mindful of our gift choices, and we won't go overboard. And every year, we still do. We are getting a lot better. Compared to some of those early Christmases as parents, we've scaled back. But there are far too many guilt inducing blog posts and articles out there, touting the merits of "simple," "thrifty," and "scaled down," Christmas giving. We certainly aren't extravagant compared to many people, but I always wind up feeling like we did too much. I'll go ahead and throw my husband under the bus on this one. This is clearly his fault. (OK, not totally.)
So what about you? Are you a shouter? A crier? A pouter? What's putting you on the naughty list this year?
With all the blog posts I'm seeing about great holiday crafts, unit studies and activities, I thought I'd go the other direction and keep it real up in here. Without further ado, or any ado at all, a few holiday confessions from my neck of the woods:
I haven't sent out Christmas cards in years
Usually I'm a traditionalist and I hate to see things change due to modernization or technology, but this is one I haven't kept up with. I love the idea of sending out an adorable photo of my kids to friends and loved ones, but I never wind up actually doing it. I have sent them out a few times since having kids, but not regularly and not in the last few years. I used to use the excuse that I had babies or toddlers and it was too much work. Now my kids are old enough that probably isn't such a good excuse. For now, I'll stay with "I'm keeping things simple." True enough.
Painting projects with my kids make me want to drink heavily
This isn't necessarily holiday related, but it seems like the requests for projects involving paint multiply this time of year. I so want to be that mom, who has arts and crafts going for her kids all the time, regardless of the mess (because my kids LOVE that stuff), and in some ways I am. I'm pretty free with the art supplies and David especially makes so many projects, I'm surprised we aren't buried in them. But getting the paint out always stresses me out. They painted ornaments recently and it was... trying. Maybe when Ella is older and less prone to getting paint all over herself and subsequently touching everything, it won't be so tension inducing. But for now, ugh.
I love to bake, but I rarely bake lots of cookies
This one is easy. If I make them, I eat them. Don't tell me that I can simply give them away, be a friendly neighbor and give away plates of cookies and all that. I would do that (and have, in the past), but it wouldn't stop me from eating my weight in sugar. There's that block of time from mixing bowl (because yum, cookie dough) to packaging for distribution and my willpower is exactly zero. Especially for my own baking. If I want to fit into my jeans by Christmas day, I can't spend a month baking dozens of cookies.
We buy too much stuff for our kids
Every year - every single year - we say we won't do it. We say we'll be more moderate, more mindful of our gift choices, and we won't go overboard. And every year, we still do. We are getting a lot better. Compared to some of those early Christmases as parents, we've scaled back. But there are far too many guilt inducing blog posts and articles out there, touting the merits of "simple," "thrifty," and "scaled down," Christmas giving. We certainly aren't extravagant compared to many people, but I always wind up feeling like we did too much. I'll go ahead and throw my husband under the bus on this one. This is clearly his fault. (OK, not totally.)
So what about you? Are you a shouter? A crier? A pouter? What's putting you on the naughty list this year?
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
The homeschool mom's guide to sick days
I'm sick. Its just a cold, so I'm not going to die or anything, but being the mom and being sick ought to be mutually exclusive, in my opinion. No one gave me the number for the homeschooling sub line, so I guess I'm stuck being the one in charge, despite my deep desire to do nothing but curl up with my box of Kleenex, a hot cup of tea, and watch the rest of Downton Abbey season 3 (which I have not watched yet, so don't you dare give anything away!).
So what do you do when you're the mom, and the teacher, and there's no hope of a replacement? There are a few go-to things that can help the day go by smoothly and keep you from feeling too terribly guilty that your sick day is turning into a total day-off for the kids. (Although if it does, don't beat yourself up. This kind of flexibility is one of the benefits of homeschooling).
1. Audio books or stories
We enjoy a lot of audio stories, especially in the car. But at home, they can be a great quiet time activity, allowing you to not only get some much needed rest, but expose your kids to great language and literature at the same time. Picture this - you, on the couch with your tea (or beverage of choice), doing nothing while your kids soak up rich language and literary awesomeness. That sounds like a win-win to me.
Check out the tons of great stories by Jim Weiss, and we love all the wonderful free stories on StoryNory.com.
2. Netflix
Yes, I am suggesting TV. Gasp! But the screen! The mind-melting effect of television! The horror!
Let go of your mommy-guilt, and turn the darn thing on. No, I don't normally let my kids watch lots of TV, but I do let them watch some and there are days when "some" turns into "a lot." Like today. But maybe use that time to watch that documentary on ancient Rome you thought the kids might enjoy. Watch March of the Penguins. Let them watch episodes of Magic School Bus. Let your preschooler watch a Leapfrog show. There are a lot of pretty great shows available, and whether you have Netflix, or some cool DVDs in your collection, declaring a movie-afternoon isn't a bad thing once in a while.
Even non-educational movies can have value. Watch The Little Mermaid, then listen to or read the original version later. Talk about how they are the same, and how they are different. Watch a fun family move, then use it as a springboard to talk about characters, plot and conflict. Movies have the ability to distill an entire plot line with character arc, conflict and resolution, all in one sitting. Use the movie to point out some of these very literary elements in a new way.
3. Art
Get out some art supplies and have at it. Make recycled material robots or cars. Cover your table with a table cloth, put out your paints and paint brushes, a big stack of paper, and let them go to town. Get out the play dough, or even just a bunch of paper, crayons, markers, scissors, tape and glue. Don't worry about how much they use - let them use the supplies freely. Many kids love to create and giving them free access to supplies and the time to use them is a great use of an afternoon.
4. Music
Do you hear about those families who regularly play classical music while the kids copy lines from the Declaration of Independence or the Bible? Have you been wanting to include more music exposure in your homeschool? Use the sick day to give it a try. Don't make a production out of it - just log into Spotify, or grab a classical music CD you already own, and hit play. Let it be on in the background while they play with their toys and let the melodies and magic of great music soothe you.
When all else fails, just do your best. Throw some food at them now and then, make sure they have access to clean water, and know that you'll feel better soon and a few days thrown off by illness isn't going to hurt them in the long run.
So what do you do when you're the mom, and the teacher, and there's no hope of a replacement? There are a few go-to things that can help the day go by smoothly and keep you from feeling too terribly guilty that your sick day is turning into a total day-off for the kids. (Although if it does, don't beat yourself up. This kind of flexibility is one of the benefits of homeschooling).
1. Audio books or stories
We enjoy a lot of audio stories, especially in the car. But at home, they can be a great quiet time activity, allowing you to not only get some much needed rest, but expose your kids to great language and literature at the same time. Picture this - you, on the couch with your tea (or beverage of choice), doing nothing while your kids soak up rich language and literary awesomeness. That sounds like a win-win to me.
Check out the tons of great stories by Jim Weiss, and we love all the wonderful free stories on StoryNory.com.
2. Netflix
Yes, I am suggesting TV. Gasp! But the screen! The mind-melting effect of television! The horror!
Let go of your mommy-guilt, and turn the darn thing on. No, I don't normally let my kids watch lots of TV, but I do let them watch some and there are days when "some" turns into "a lot." Like today. But maybe use that time to watch that documentary on ancient Rome you thought the kids might enjoy. Watch March of the Penguins. Let them watch episodes of Magic School Bus. Let your preschooler watch a Leapfrog show. There are a lot of pretty great shows available, and whether you have Netflix, or some cool DVDs in your collection, declaring a movie-afternoon isn't a bad thing once in a while.
Even non-educational movies can have value. Watch The Little Mermaid, then listen to or read the original version later. Talk about how they are the same, and how they are different. Watch a fun family move, then use it as a springboard to talk about characters, plot and conflict. Movies have the ability to distill an entire plot line with character arc, conflict and resolution, all in one sitting. Use the movie to point out some of these very literary elements in a new way.
3. Art
Get out some art supplies and have at it. Make recycled material robots or cars. Cover your table with a table cloth, put out your paints and paint brushes, a big stack of paper, and let them go to town. Get out the play dough, or even just a bunch of paper, crayons, markers, scissors, tape and glue. Don't worry about how much they use - let them use the supplies freely. Many kids love to create and giving them free access to supplies and the time to use them is a great use of an afternoon.
4. Music
Do you hear about those families who regularly play classical music while the kids copy lines from the Declaration of Independence or the Bible? Have you been wanting to include more music exposure in your homeschool? Use the sick day to give it a try. Don't make a production out of it - just log into Spotify, or grab a classical music CD you already own, and hit play. Let it be on in the background while they play with their toys and let the melodies and magic of great music soothe you.
When all else fails, just do your best. Throw some food at them now and then, make sure they have access to clean water, and know that you'll feel better soon and a few days thrown off by illness isn't going to hurt them in the long run.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
An open letter to mothers everywhere
Dear Moms,
What I want to say to you has nothing to do with whether or not you work outside the home, inside the home, stay at home with your children, send them to boarding school, or public school, or private school or homeschool. What I want to say isn't dependent on whether your life looks like mine or affirms my life choices. It doesn't matter whether those children of yours grew in your womb, or grew in your heart and in the womb of another; whether you had the chance to hold your babies or had to say goodbye to them far too soon. What I want to say to you is simply based on what I know to be a Truth, one with a very intentional capital "T," as it is one of those truths that simply is.
You are a mother, and that matters.
There was a time when us women did not have very many choices. We could be wives and mothers, or nurses, teachers or secretaries. Brave and unrefined were the women who sported pants and dared to stand up and say something ought to be different. We are more than bodies to bear children, hands to cook and clean. We are bright and thoughtful and wonderful creatures and you should set us free in the world. Just you wait and see what we can do.
And we did. We cast off the shackles of cultural expectations and changed things. And in very many ways, this is good. Free will is one of the cornerstones of human existence, granted to us by God Himself, and not tread upon even by Him. A woman today has choices in things she would not have once had. She can be so very many things, do so very many things.
But regardless of what you tell people you "do", mothers - you matter.
Somewhere along the way, things went off course. The choice became the expectation. The superwoman can do it all! The truth hits us hard in the face, as we realize something is amiss with that vision. The right choice for one may not be the right choice for another. But instead of that being OK, there is judgment, or the fear of judgment.
What was once a cry for liberation has become a cry of confusion. If I stay home with my children, am I worth less than my sister who earns a salary? If I work and earn money, am I neglecting my kids to do so?
With either choice, you matter.
There is no one like a mother. She fills a certain place in a person's heart that simply cannot be filled by anyone else. Ask anyone who has lost her. It feels much like the phantom itching of an amputee, reaching out to scratch a leg that is no longer there. She was so enormous, so important and irreplaceable, when she is gone, the loss is breathtaking. I know this because my husband knows. She is gone, and he will never be the same.
You, dear mother, you are the boo-boo kisser, lullaby singer, fixer of broken trucks and builder of paper airplanes. You are the one they go to in the night when their tummy hurts; the one they snuggle up with on the couch in their most innocent, tender moments. You are their strength, their soft place to land, their roots and their wings. You are a piece of your children that no one else will ever be. And that matters. It matters to your children in ways that you might not realize. It matters to those around you, as you pour yourself into your children, loving them and nurturing them, teaching them and molding them.
You may go your whole mothering life and never get the thanks you deserve. The people around you might never understand or appreciate what it is you do. Or they might. But your worth, your value, your dignity as a person don't hinge on them. It isn't the size of your paycheck or the grades your kids get that make you worthy. You are worthy simply because you are, because you exist. You are a totally unique and irreplaceable human being and God loves you with a love that defies the understanding of our comparatively small hearts.
And your children? They love you almost that much.
However it is that you fill your days; whatever you'd write on a resume or in a letter to an old friend - you matter. You matter to those kids who call you Mommy. The very mundane tasks of caring for a family are so very, very valuable. The hard and unglamorous work of mothering - the dirty diapers, soccer games, messy faces, misplaced socks, piles of laundry, snotty noses, Curious George books, and toys on the floor - those things feel so terribly ordinary, and yet are so terribly important.
Mothers, you are the glue that holds us all together. With your love and care, each generation of humans rise up to inhabit this earth. It is at your hands, and figurative apron strings, that these little people grow up and become our replacements. That matters.
You matter. And the next time you question your worth, question your decisions or question your value, look into the eyes of one of those extraordinary little people you gave your heart to, and I promise you, you will see it. You'll see that you matter, and that what you do has value and great worth.
What I want to say to you has nothing to do with whether or not you work outside the home, inside the home, stay at home with your children, send them to boarding school, or public school, or private school or homeschool. What I want to say isn't dependent on whether your life looks like mine or affirms my life choices. It doesn't matter whether those children of yours grew in your womb, or grew in your heart and in the womb of another; whether you had the chance to hold your babies or had to say goodbye to them far too soon. What I want to say to you is simply based on what I know to be a Truth, one with a very intentional capital "T," as it is one of those truths that simply is.
You are a mother, and that matters.
There was a time when us women did not have very many choices. We could be wives and mothers, or nurses, teachers or secretaries. Brave and unrefined were the women who sported pants and dared to stand up and say something ought to be different. We are more than bodies to bear children, hands to cook and clean. We are bright and thoughtful and wonderful creatures and you should set us free in the world. Just you wait and see what we can do.
And we did. We cast off the shackles of cultural expectations and changed things. And in very many ways, this is good. Free will is one of the cornerstones of human existence, granted to us by God Himself, and not tread upon even by Him. A woman today has choices in things she would not have once had. She can be so very many things, do so very many things.
But regardless of what you tell people you "do", mothers - you matter.
Somewhere along the way, things went off course. The choice became the expectation. The superwoman can do it all! The truth hits us hard in the face, as we realize something is amiss with that vision. The right choice for one may not be the right choice for another. But instead of that being OK, there is judgment, or the fear of judgment.
What was once a cry for liberation has become a cry of confusion. If I stay home with my children, am I worth less than my sister who earns a salary? If I work and earn money, am I neglecting my kids to do so?
With either choice, you matter.
There is no one like a mother. She fills a certain place in a person's heart that simply cannot be filled by anyone else. Ask anyone who has lost her. It feels much like the phantom itching of an amputee, reaching out to scratch a leg that is no longer there. She was so enormous, so important and irreplaceable, when she is gone, the loss is breathtaking. I know this because my husband knows. She is gone, and he will never be the same.
You, dear mother, you are the boo-boo kisser, lullaby singer, fixer of broken trucks and builder of paper airplanes. You are the one they go to in the night when their tummy hurts; the one they snuggle up with on the couch in their most innocent, tender moments. You are their strength, their soft place to land, their roots and their wings. You are a piece of your children that no one else will ever be. And that matters. It matters to your children in ways that you might not realize. It matters to those around you, as you pour yourself into your children, loving them and nurturing them, teaching them and molding them.
You may go your whole mothering life and never get the thanks you deserve. The people around you might never understand or appreciate what it is you do. Or they might. But your worth, your value, your dignity as a person don't hinge on them. It isn't the size of your paycheck or the grades your kids get that make you worthy. You are worthy simply because you are, because you exist. You are a totally unique and irreplaceable human being and God loves you with a love that defies the understanding of our comparatively small hearts.
And your children? They love you almost that much.
However it is that you fill your days; whatever you'd write on a resume or in a letter to an old friend - you matter. You matter to those kids who call you Mommy. The very mundane tasks of caring for a family are so very, very valuable. The hard and unglamorous work of mothering - the dirty diapers, soccer games, messy faces, misplaced socks, piles of laundry, snotty noses, Curious George books, and toys on the floor - those things feel so terribly ordinary, and yet are so terribly important.
Mothers, you are the glue that holds us all together. With your love and care, each generation of humans rise up to inhabit this earth. It is at your hands, and figurative apron strings, that these little people grow up and become our replacements. That matters.
You matter. And the next time you question your worth, question your decisions or question your value, look into the eyes of one of those extraordinary little people you gave your heart to, and I promise you, you will see it. You'll see that you matter, and that what you do has value and great worth.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Monster Green Smoothie
This is super random, but has me rather excited. I am on a mission to feed my family better. Rather than being one of those sexy super spy missions that requires a black spandex bodysuit and lots of tiny gadgets, this mission looks more like me sitting at the computer a lot. I read a lot about nutrition, and I search for new recipe ideas a little bit obsessively. But feeding a family with three children who have not been raised on 100% healthy food for their entire lives, and a husband who has some, ahem, pickiness issues, is a challenge. Perhaps if I'd been one of those moms who never pulls through a McDonald's and whose kids have never had anything with sugar in it, I'd have them happily eating nothing but broccoli and brussels sprouts. Alas, I am not that mom, and my kids will chose crappy chicken nuggets over almost anything else, any day of the week.
I've had a recent success, however, and when I come up with a recipe or food idea that is not sugar laden, and all three of them will eat, I get a little excited.
Enter the Monster Green Smoothie!
(I totally made that name up just now)
There's really nothing revolutionary about this recipe, and I'm sure you'll find numerous versions of a green smoothie that are basically the same. So to say I "created" this isn't quite accurate. Mostly, I just threw a bunch of stuff in a blender and hoped for the best. But this combination has proved to be delicious, and although it does contain orange juice as a base (aka, sugar), it is healthy enough for my liking.
And my kids are drinking these with breakfast. Cue Hallelujah Chorus in my head.
Monster Green Smoothie
Short version of the directions: throw it in a blender and turn on.
Longer version:
I blend the spinach and kale first, with a few squirts of lime juice and enough coconut milk to get it to blend. The lime juice cuts down any bitterness in the green stuff.
Once it is nicely liquefied, I add the other ingredients - the avocado makes it creamy and adds healthy fats, frozen banana is awesome in smoothies, and they like them really cold so I still add a couple ice cubes. Grayson came up with the idea to add a squirt of lemon juice, and usually another squirt of lime juice, at the end. The kids seem to think those little squirts of acidity to be essential, but bet they can be left out and probably not alter the flavor a whole lot. Add enough orange juice to get a good smoothie consistency and blend away.
I have a Ninja Kitchen Prep, which is a pretty cool blender, but not one of those crazy expensive ones, and it blends everything up just fine.
The smoothie ends up a fabulous green color, and it is full of some good stuff - and best of all, my kids happily slurp them up. This has vegetables in it, people. That is huge.
I realized I probably should have taken a picture, because blog posts look better with pictures, but I didn't and my kids already drank theirs down. If I think about it, I'll add one later, but chances are I won't - so I submit the lack of picture as evidence of this smoothie's yumminess - gone too quick to photograph!
I've had a recent success, however, and when I come up with a recipe or food idea that is not sugar laden, and all three of them will eat, I get a little excited.
Enter the Monster Green Smoothie!
(I totally made that name up just now)
There's really nothing revolutionary about this recipe, and I'm sure you'll find numerous versions of a green smoothie that are basically the same. So to say I "created" this isn't quite accurate. Mostly, I just threw a bunch of stuff in a blender and hoped for the best. But this combination has proved to be delicious, and although it does contain orange juice as a base (aka, sugar), it is healthy enough for my liking.
And my kids are drinking these with breakfast. Cue Hallelujah Chorus in my head.
Monster Green Smoothie
- Handful of spinach and kale
- Lime juice
- Coconut milk
- 1/2 to 1 ripe avocado
- Frozen banana chunks
- Orange juice
- Lemon juice
- A few ice cubes
Short version of the directions: throw it in a blender and turn on.
Longer version:
I blend the spinach and kale first, with a few squirts of lime juice and enough coconut milk to get it to blend. The lime juice cuts down any bitterness in the green stuff.
Once it is nicely liquefied, I add the other ingredients - the avocado makes it creamy and adds healthy fats, frozen banana is awesome in smoothies, and they like them really cold so I still add a couple ice cubes. Grayson came up with the idea to add a squirt of lemon juice, and usually another squirt of lime juice, at the end. The kids seem to think those little squirts of acidity to be essential, but bet they can be left out and probably not alter the flavor a whole lot. Add enough orange juice to get a good smoothie consistency and blend away.
I have a Ninja Kitchen Prep, which is a pretty cool blender, but not one of those crazy expensive ones, and it blends everything up just fine.
The smoothie ends up a fabulous green color, and it is full of some good stuff - and best of all, my kids happily slurp them up. This has vegetables in it, people. That is huge.
I realized I probably should have taken a picture, because blog posts look better with pictures, but I didn't and my kids already drank theirs down. If I think about it, I'll add one later, but chances are I won't - so I submit the lack of picture as evidence of this smoothie's yumminess - gone too quick to photograph!
Friday, September 20, 2013
How we "do" history, and an early middle ages booklist
History is a favorite subject of mine. There was a time I thought I'd be a history major, naturally going on to teach in a prestigious academic setting, igniting young minds with the passion for learning from the past and appearing on gritty History Channel documentaries as the resident expert on the Middle Ages.
Too far? Yeah, probably.
In any case, I love history, and I'd like it if my kids at least had a passing interest in it. There are so many great stories, interesting people, and fascinating events. But how should we study history with kids 8 and under? This isn't really the time for in-depth analysis, and I'm not big on memorizing names and dates. And, given that this year my mantra is "Keep it Simple," grandiose plans that include building ourselves thatched roof cottages in the backyard probably aren't the best idea.
Besides, Trogdor the Burninator might show up.
Enter my strategy for completely fabulous, yet very simple history studies. This is something even non-homeschooling parents can do with their kids, in the evenings or whenever you have some family time. Are you ready?
Read.
Yep. Just read. Seriously, there are so many amazing books out there that will bring history alive for you and your kids. Books that are beautifully written, and many with lovely illustrations, that ignite the imagination and transport you back in time in a way no textbook could. (Keyword for homeschoolers: Living Books!)
Is that enough? Well, that is the quintessential homeschooling parent question, isn't it? We berate ourselves with "Is it enough?" constantly. Taking on the responsibility for educating your children does that to you.
I'll argue that yes, it is enough. Reading aloud isn't where it ends in our house, I'll be truthful about that. There is always discussion and questions about what we've read - some of it falling under what you'd call "narrations," or Julie Bogart of Brave Writer would call, "Big, Juicy Conversations." Good stuff, all of it, but none of it has required fill-in-the-blank worksheets or memorizing dates or reading comprehension questions. And we are making a very simple timeline notebook this year, which I'll probably detail in another post. But the bulk of how we're studying history is really that simple - reading great books.
What are these great books you speak of, you ask? Ok, so maybe you aren't asking, but I'm telling nonetheless. I won't list everything I have lined up for the year, because that would be prohibitively long. So I'll start with our first "Unit," if you will, and I'll share what we read on later topics and time periods as we go. Right now, we're reading about the early middle ages - from around the fall of the western Roman Empire to about the 8th century - covering things like the Celts, monks and monasteries and the preservation of knowledge, and King Clovis.
To that end, we're reading:
A Little History of the World, by E.H. Gombrich
This is our "spine," if you will. I organized our other reading to correspond with chapters from A Little History. We started with Chapter 19, The Starry Night Begins. Once we read that, we started on our other books.
The Ink Garden of Brother Theophane
About a monk who isn't satisfied with the plain brown inks his monastery uses to copy books, this gives a poetic look into the life of early monks. Brother Theophane is something of a misfit, but his imagination and ingenuity turn books into works of art.
The Holy Twins: Benedict and Scholastica
Beautifully illustrated by Tomie de Paola, this story follows the lives of Saint Benedict and his twin sister Saint Scholastica. Benedict wrote the Rule of St. Benedict, a set of rules for life in a monastery that is still in use today.
Brigid's Cloak
Brigid's Cloak is a lovely ancient Irish legend. Brigid's mother receives a blue cloak for her daughter when she is born, and it has a surprising purpose in Brigid's life.
Celtic Fairy Tales
I picked this book up years ago at Half Price books for a few bucks, and I'm so glad I did. This is a lovely book with some wonderful Celtic stories.
Saint Patrick, Patron Saint of Ireland
Did you know Saint Patrick wasn't Irish? Knock me down with a mug of green beer, I had no idea. He was born a Roman citizen in Britain. This book tells the fascinating tale of his life and how he wound up the patron saint of Ireland.
Caedmon's Song
Based on the true story of Caedmon, who became the first English poet. Caedmon was a cowherd who froze every time it was his turn to sing a song. This gives a nice look into the world of oral tradition, poetry and song.
Across a Wild and Dark Sea
A legendary tale of the exploits of Columcille, also known as Columbia, an Irish monk, revered in Celtic history.
Favorite Medieval Tales
This treasure of a book has versions of many famous tales of the middle ages, adapted for children. We just read Beowulf. Beowulf, people! Do you know how thrilling it is, to read Beowulf to your little boys? They eat this stuff up with a spoon. (And like I said - adapted for children, so it is quite abbreviated and not nearly as graphic). The book also includes tales such as The Sword in the Stone, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Robin Hood and the Chanticleer and the Fox. Good stuff here.
Brendan the Navigator
This book explores the mystery of whether Saint Brendan "discovered" America, long before Columbus or even the Vikings. It relates some legends of Brendan, and gives a nice look at how things that are legend may indeed originate in truth, and how sometimes history is still a mystery.
The Sword in the Tree
This is David's chapter book of the moment, a story taking place in the era of king Arthur.
And audio stories! If you're actually still reading (phew!, nice job!), and if you haven't heard of Jim Weiss, you can thank me later. Jim Weiss is a fantastic storyteller who has audio stories of all kinds. You can buy MP3 downloads (easy and instant!), or CDs. We've listened to everything from American Tall Tales to Bible stories to stories from Ancient Egypt. So far this year, we've added:
Celtic Treasures
Dashing legends from the ancient Celts - Finn MacCoul, Cuchulain and more. These are a lot of fun.
King Arthur and His Knights
These tell the stories of Arthur and the sword in the stone, Excalibur and the story of Sir Percival. Lots of fun without a lot of the more adult drama that comes later in the tale. In other words, you won't find yourself having to explain the world "adultery" or what on earth Lancelot and Guinevere were up to.
So that's our look at the early middle ages. We'll be diving into the next phase soon, with stories of Charlemagne and a look at the world of the Vikings next!
Friday, September 6, 2013
Art and Music Fridays
I'm trying something new this year - Art and Music Fridays. I've seen different variations on this theme from other homeschoolers, so this certainly isn't an idea I take credit for. I looked at how our days and weeks flow and instead of trying to cram things like art projects, artist study, music appreciation and so forth, into our mornings as an "I hope we get to this regularly" subject, I thought we'd try putting aside our regular work on Fridays and focusing on something else.
Art and Music Fridays doesn't quite encapsulate all of what I have on the agenda for Fridays, but "Art and Music and Freewriting and Games" is a bit of a mouthful. Fridays will be a day for things like art projects, as well as learning about music and great artists. We'll also do some things like freewriting, and playing some language and math games.
I'm hopeful that having a day that is set aside for something different, and admittedly more fun (despite my pie in the sky hopes that ALL our learning is super fun, darnit), will be a refreshing end to the week and help keep us from experiencing too much burnout as the year progresses. Sometimes you just have to put away the regular stuff and do something else!
I also love what Charlotte Mason, a 19th century British educator whose writings are popular in the homeschooling world, had to say about providing children with a "feast of ideas." We can draw from everything from great books to beautiful art to lovely music, and it gives the child a feast for their mind and heart. So often, providing the feast takes a backseat to making sure our kids know their math facts and grammar - even at home where we aren't faced with the teaching-to-the-test dilemma so prevalent in public schools.
So bring on the feast!
Here are some of the resources I'm using to help make this happen. I like a bit of handholding, because it makes it more likely I'll follow through with these ideas, but much of this would be easy to organize and put together on your own, for free.
Artist Study
Picture Study Portfolios from Simply Charlotte Mason. These come with prints to look at, as well as a biography of the artist. We're beginning our year with Monet. This is one of those things that isn't hard to pull together on your own, but I decided having it all done for me was worth it. I'm also including a few children's books from the library, such as The Magical Garden of Claude Monet and Monet Paints a Day. We'll spend the next couple of months learning about Monet and looking at his art, then move on to another artist.
Music
I'm using the SQUILT curriculum from Homegrown Learners. We'll be focusing on the Baroque period (and I'm hopeful she'll come out with more soon!). SQUILT is Super Quiet UnInterrupted Listening Time. Again, this kind of music appreciation isn't hard to put together on your own, but I am in love with having it all laid out for me, including YouTube links and notebooking sheets for the kids to fill out. We'll be learning about different Baroque composers, as well as things like dynamics, tempo, rhythm, instrumentation and mood.
Art projects
I have a handful of books, and a mess of stuff on my Pinterest boards to draw from. I also recently discovered Art for Kids, which is a FABULOUS site with lots of great (and many simple and not super messy) projects. Deep Space Sparkle is another great website for art lessons. The book Discovering Great Artists has art projects that introduce the style of great artists, so we'll definitely be doing some of those that tie into our artist studies as well.
Freewriting
We do some freewriting a la Bravewriter (have I mentioned I'm a Bravewriter fan?). David is really the only one participating in this writing exercise, and in the spirit of setting a good example, I write with him. We pick a topic, set a timer for five minutes, and write without stopping until time is up. There are no rules, except you keep writing the whole time, and no correcting of errors. We just write. If he wants to (which he always does) we share what we wrote. As the year progresses, we'll use the freewriting exercise to help with writing projects as well.
Math games
We use Right Start Math, so there are TONS of games built right into the curriculum. The hard part is making time for them. The games are fun, and wonderful for practicing math facts and working with numbers. Even if you don't use Right Start, you can get their book of math games. I highly recommend them!
Word games
Bravewriter has suggestions for word games using magnetic poetry. We also have Scrabble, and I'd like to add Bananagrams to our repertoire. I recently found Star Wars mad libs and about died. Mad libs are fun and a good way to reinforce parts of speech, but Star Wars mad libs? Are you kidding me? If you have a Star Wars fan, get thee to a store and buy some, stat.
So that's our plan. There will be some Fridays where we have other activities, and as always, our routine is ever evolving. But the kids were pretty excited to have something different to do today, so if the very first week of school is any indication, this should be a hit.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
And we're off!
First day of school! First day of school! (I can't help but read that in the voice of Nemo)
Today marked the first day of our school year, here at the very prestigious Frank Academy of Awesomeness. We had a rather, ahem, busy summer and I think all of us are happy to be settling back into a normal routine.
I seem to have done a fair job of prepping our work, at least for the beginning of the year, because there was a definite lack of, "Oh, we need that today?" or "I guess we aren't doing that project now," from me. Books are on the shelves, notebooks are ready, science supplies are, well not organized per se, but at least all in one place in a big tote, and our first day was actually rather relaxed.
Without further ado, obligatory first-day-of-school photos!
Happy school year everyone!
Today marked the first day of our school year, here at the very prestigious Frank Academy of Awesomeness. We had a rather, ahem, busy summer and I think all of us are happy to be settling back into a normal routine.
I seem to have done a fair job of prepping our work, at least for the beginning of the year, because there was a definite lack of, "Oh, we need that today?" or "I guess we aren't doing that project now," from me. Books are on the shelves, notebooks are ready, science supplies are, well not organized per se, but at least all in one place in a big tote, and our first day was actually rather relaxed.
Without further ado, obligatory first-day-of-school photos!
 |
| My big third grader. He wanted an "action shot" so he grabbed the pencil sharpener :). |
 |
| First grade!!! I can hardly believe it. Grayson with his beloved jaguar and blankies. |
 |
| Yes, this is what she chose to wear today. Awesome. |
 |
| My three sillies |
 |
| Oh my goodness, one of me! I'm usually behind the camera, but this shot is courtesy of David. |
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Bedtime drama and the permanent sleepover
Shortly before we moved, the kids wanted to have a "sleepover" in the boys' room. With all the craziness of moving, and being summer and all, we figured, why not? So we threw a mattress on their floor and Ella started sleeping in there. We thought it would be for a night or two, but they kept it up until we moved and asked if they could keep sleeping in the same room in the new house.
We figured it was a decent enough idea. They were going to bed (mostly) ok all together, and we figured we could have them all sleep in one room and put toys in the other bedroom. This house is laid out very differently from our old one, and the bedrooms are considerably smaller, so we were struggling a little to figure out toy storage (the fact that they have *that* many toys is not lost on me, even though I swear we donated a TON before we moved). Having a "playroom" and a "bedroom" seemed like it would solve some storage problems. What the heck?
No, seriously, what the heck?
Now that we're attempting to get back to a normal routine, which includes going to bed at a decent time, I am questioning my sanity in allowing the three of them to share a bedroom. We have not had one single night where they all went to bed, were quiet, and stayed in bed until morning. Usually it is Grayson and Ella (sharing the bottom bunk) who are up to all sorts of shenanigans and David is the one getting up to rat them out. But at this point, I'm getting ready to haul her bed up to the other bedroom and be done with it.
And yet...
Last night they came out together because their fan (for white noise) had suddenly turned off. They figured out on their own that the plug had simply come loose and fallen out of the socket, but it startled them and they needed some hugs. Ok, fair enough. And as I was inwardlyimagining tying them to their beds with duct tape sighing a heavy sigh for yet another out-of-bed-after-bedtime experience, they all hugged and kissed me goodnight. They then all clasped hands and walked back to their bedroom together, giving each other little hugs and squeezes as they went.
And then...
The tiny, sweet chorus of "I love you's," not directed at me, but at each other, as the entered their bedroom and headed back to bed.
Those silly little people, they love each other a lot. They bicker a little and fight sometimes, like siblings can do, but mostly they get along and they really love each other. They even like each other, which is something else entirely when you're talking about brothers and sisters. They didn't beg us to keep sharing a room so they could get on my nerves with their bedtime antics; they simply like being together.
In this new place, they're taking comfort in each other. Now, the little turkeys need to sleep and they need to go to bed without so much drama, and I'm hopeful we'll get there. But I don't know that I want to separate them at this point. They need each other, and they know it, and I want to encourage those relationships in any way I can. I love how close they are.
Just when you're ready to tear your hair out in frustration, kids will do something so impossibly sweet, you can't resist them....
We figured it was a decent enough idea. They were going to bed (mostly) ok all together, and we figured we could have them all sleep in one room and put toys in the other bedroom. This house is laid out very differently from our old one, and the bedrooms are considerably smaller, so we were struggling a little to figure out toy storage (the fact that they have *that* many toys is not lost on me, even though I swear we donated a TON before we moved). Having a "playroom" and a "bedroom" seemed like it would solve some storage problems. What the heck?
No, seriously, what the heck?
Now that we're attempting to get back to a normal routine, which includes going to bed at a decent time, I am questioning my sanity in allowing the three of them to share a bedroom. We have not had one single night where they all went to bed, were quiet, and stayed in bed until morning. Usually it is Grayson and Ella (sharing the bottom bunk) who are up to all sorts of shenanigans and David is the one getting up to rat them out. But at this point, I'm getting ready to haul her bed up to the other bedroom and be done with it.
And yet...
Last night they came out together because their fan (for white noise) had suddenly turned off. They figured out on their own that the plug had simply come loose and fallen out of the socket, but it startled them and they needed some hugs. Ok, fair enough. And as I was inwardly
And then...
The tiny, sweet chorus of "I love you's," not directed at me, but at each other, as the entered their bedroom and headed back to bed.
Those silly little people, they love each other a lot. They bicker a little and fight sometimes, like siblings can do, but mostly they get along and they really love each other. They even like each other, which is something else entirely when you're talking about brothers and sisters. They didn't beg us to keep sharing a room so they could get on my nerves with their bedtime antics; they simply like being together.
In this new place, they're taking comfort in each other. Now, the little turkeys need to sleep and they need to go to bed without so much drama, and I'm hopeful we'll get there. But I don't know that I want to separate them at this point. They need each other, and they know it, and I want to encourage those relationships in any way I can. I love how close they are.
Just when you're ready to tear your hair out in frustration, kids will do something so impossibly sweet, you can't resist them....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)