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.

Our table. Yes, those are paper plates. Remember the not having of servants? Yeah.

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.



 

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

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.



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.

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.

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.

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 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....

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.

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?