HomeSchooling
That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you're not alone and isolated from anyone. You belong. - F. Scott Fitzgerald
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Yes, You Can!
This weekend I took Bergen, Mosely and London to a community theatre’s production of Oliver. (It’s from my favorite Charles Dickens’ novel and I only just read it for the first time last year. How did I receive an English degree without reading that novel, Cumberland College? How?) I love community theatre. I miss it really. (And watching the show reminded me of how much I liked that stage scene. And I think I did a pretty decent job when that was my field of expertise. Despite what that one off-off-off-off Broadway director said when I brought him his requested red candles. “No. No,” he scolded me. “I want…
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Next Subject – Science
You’ve already read about the routine. You know we eat scrambled eggs every Wednesday morning and that on Fridays we bake together. Pretty soon any number of you could run my household – more smoothly and efficiently than I myself can. (Ahhh, Master Plan is progressing nicely. Cue sinister soundtrack.) During my few years of homeschooling I have discovered that I really have to diligently schedule the subjects that I would gloss right over. (You know, I never have to remind myself to read to the kids or to listen to great music with them or to draw a daffodil or to paint a picture.) So around here –…
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Baking Day
I’ve been pursuing schedule around here – you know? Chasing shalom and striving for order. Conquering chaos and choosing structure. (I have to keep working so hard at it because I keep struggling so mightily.) I made a list of topics/ideas/subjects that I want to teach the kids and I divided those ideas up and picked one or two to focus on each day of the week. (I really had to break this down into its simplest form for me to finally take action. I’m a Big Ideas person. I love The Dream. The Ideal. And I like to write it all down in impossibly tidy rows and schedule the…
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Friday Morning
Friday morning. Remember our breakfast schedule? Now our muffins are dinsoaur-shaped. And this morning, London made them. (Almost) entirely by herself.
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Capable
There’s just something about a tiny baby’s hands – isn’t there? They just look adorable. Sometimes they’re kind of wrinkly and even a little peely. (I just coined that word. For the record.) Honestly, as cute as they are though, and as much as I love to kiss them and admire them, they really can’t accomplish much early on. They only grasp what you place in them and they don’t even work really well in unison with one another just yet. But, man. You just blink a couple hundred times or so and those mini hands morph into something else entirely. I’ve been noticing the hands of my “bigger” kids…
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This Game Needs A New Name
One of the most enjoyable aspects about raising kids has been the opportunity to pass on games and activities and tradtions that I played as a kid. And just this week I remembered a new one. Funeral. I think we made it up one long ago Virginia summer at the Wickstrum’s farm. It’s a simple game, really. Probably born of hot summer days and looking for excuses to not run around outside. One person pretends to be, er, dead. The, uh, dead person lies on the ground alone, arms crossed. After the deceased is lying still and his face is composed, the other players enter the room. The goal of…
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Sometimes It Looks Like This
Homeschool looks different in every house. (At least, I assume it does. I have not personally been at every homeschool house – right?) Some days it looks pretty normal. And I like that. And there are other days. Days when I like homeschool less because of what my children are learning and more because of how they are learning. And with whom. And, like life, some days get a little rowdy. A little out of control. But I kind of like that too. And finally, there are some moments in some days that just make me laugh.
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In Search Of . . . Schedule
At our house, in this homeschool, living this life . . . it seems I am always in search of more routine. Some structure. A few seldom-changing, set-almost-in-stone daily-weekly-hourly occurrences. In a word – consistency. I thought I had that down pretty well back when I had just three kids. Riley was being homeschooled. London and Mosely were toddlers. And I was at my planning prime. (I didn’t know it then, however.) Our days were organized. The girls were in a predetermined routine. Riley was a diligent student. Mosely and London had blanket time and crib time and play-alone time. I even had a handy, ultra-organized, color-coded chart hanging…
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All Over Their Faces
When Bergen’s feelings get hurt, everyone with eyes knows it. His body crumples. He usually slides to the floor. When Finn hears the word “no” when she wants to hear the word “yes” she turns her entire tiny body in the exact opposite direction. She kicks her four-inch feet against the floor and pads right out of your presence. If Mosely isn’t getting her way her arms are instantly crossed. Her lower lip is extended and her eyebrows are knit together, cartoon-style. None of these kids have to speak a word to communicate what they are feeling. (Sadness. Frustration. Anger.) I don’t even have to be a very observant mother…
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the post about bees
Bees are divine. I mean – lots of things are. Right? gravity. love. music. banana pudding. molecules. But I’m talking about bees. (I told you I would eventually talk about this.) For Kevin’s recent-ish birthday I gave him The Gift That Keeps On Giving. Twenty-thousand bees. (Give or take a few hundred.) He’s talked about wanting to raise bees for years. Well, actually, he’s talked about wanting to walk amongst swarms of bees without any protection and take the stings like a man. Like a foolish man. Like a foolish, unprotected man. Like a foolish, unprotected man placing himself directly in harm’s way. So I did what any loving wife…
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Lunch Lesson
This was yesterday’s lunch for my children. I like to call it . . . self-control on a plate. Sometimes I like to place the kids’ dessert on the same plate with their food, a la Look Up Lodge cafeteria dining style. The rule governing desserts in our house, and probably in every house with young children, is basic. Eat your dinner first. It hasn’t changed in a long time. Back in the day, John the Baptist was probably eating his honey after his locust. So I just placed the Oreo on the plate beside the other food options. Oreos are actually a pretty unusual treat at our house but…
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I Don’t Want One
I saw a crazy device recently in Best Buy. I think it was called Kindle, but I didn’t linger long enough to be certain. I guess everyone has heard of this already before me. Or owns one. It’s this little device that you hold in your hand and it contains the printed words of any large number of your favorite real books. It is not a book. It’s a little screen (uh – like a computer) that shows you the pages of the books you want to read. But I can tell you this, you will not be seeing this girl purchase a Kindle. Ever. One of its selling points…
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What Do We Do?
(It’s another one of those this-picture-has-nothing-to-do-with-this-post-other-than-the-fact-that-this-is-my-blog-and-this-is-my-cute-kid. Apologies to all.) I just heard this line in a song . . . “If you feel it, it must be real.” That turns my stomach. This idea is absolutely pervasive. It has invaded everything. Our music. Our movies. Our commercials. Our attitudes. Our expectations. Our brains. Our hearts. Our actions. And I hate it. Because it is a lie. I’m not saying feelings always lie. I’m not saying feelings are wrong. Or sinful. Necessarily. I am saying – you cannot trust only your feelings. You cannot live from your feelings alone. You cannot base your actions on your feelings. It is a dangerous…
