Best-Laid Plans
When I get a few hours to school plan on the weekend, the chart my husband made for me looks beautiful, complete, a promise of the accomplishments in the days ahead.
On the whole I’ve found it’s incredibly helpful to have specific plans written down so I know my through line when a normal day amongst our 4 kids muddles my brain. Here are a few interruptions from last week’s best-laid plans.
- A birthday for the new 8 year old(including surprise cupcakes delivered to the tutorial we started in the fall)
- 4 colds
- 1 two hour trip to the doctor
- The baby, with one of the colds, needs extra attention
- New(unscheduled) interests pop up
Basically, Life happens.
That’s when amnesia strikes. I forget any lessons I’ve learned from the last five years of this homeschool journey.
“I failed today” begins in a nagging drone.
School tasks only partially accomplished, chores half completed and a completely grumpy mom and kids by four o’clock. What’s successful about that?
“Failure!” continues, louder and frantic.
A smaller voice, much calmer and steady, “This is a lifestyle. Don’t you remember? Your success is not a series of completed tasks. Your week looks messy up close, stand further back, don’t look for the neat and tidy picture, take a wider gaze.”
I can be so forgetful, in the daily chaos, that the lessons for each of us aren’t contained within that beautiful chart.
This is what I see when I stand back:
Kids who are begging me to read more Shakespeare, acting out his plays and narrating them in detail(not on the plan, not in the scope of our American history this year).
One child read three Little House on the Prairie books this week(it wasn’t on the read aloud list).
Kids who are saving and earning their own money, buying and handling their change and making wise decisions(not math lesson 56 this week).
Miniature newspapers created with advertisements, news reports, contests, and cartoons diligently and excitedly worked on(the day of the two hour surprise doctor appointment).
An eight year old who’s found a new vehicle to spread encouraging words(and it’s contagious) when she’s struggled so much to be verbally encouraging. (Though we didn’t get our writing assignment done this week, these came straight from the heart, not spurred on by me). An example:
“Dear Joshua,
Thank you for the silly band. I think your kind to give away things like that. I love you so much Joshua. You are kind to give me things like that, here is a list of things you gave me 1.silly band 2. two shels 3. shineing silver rock 5. a letter 6. one cent.
You are kind and I love you.”
Thursday night I hadn’t yet heard this quieter voice and I shared with my husband about the joylessness of being a taskmaster and how I needed to drop some of the expecations on myself of housework, dinner on time, etc. Then I could get down on the floor and play with Sparkles, listen to the kids, and be more present even in school work. He was so understanding and I was looking forward to revealing the new, more relaxed me the next day. But by 9:30 the next morning we were headed out for that two hour doctor’s appointment, which threw off my new plan and I was unsettled again. I had been ready for some changes, just changes that I could control.
A new day arrived.
Yesterday the chores didn’t get done, I spent four hours with my new eight year old, listening, not correcting, delighting together.
I can hear that small voice, but I need it to get bigger before the new week begins. I need to see the messy picture of our life and realize the best-laid plans are happening.
Just not mine.
Waiting For Perfect
It’s the week before.
The week before we enter another year of school. We’ve been homeschooling since our oldest was a little Five in A Row pre-schooler and she’s now entering her 4th year of grade school. Her little sister enters 3rd, younger brother kindergarten, and littlest sister begins a year of playing with blocks along side our lessons. Five years on this homeschool journey, which sometimes feels like Mr Toad’s Wild Ride.
For some of you this conjures sweet pictures, the really good days of learning at home-everyone gathered on the couch casting everything else off for another chapter, sharing in a great prayer time or singing verses of the Bible, or the big wow moments when letters come into focus and character falls into place.
For some of the you the idea of the whole family at home each day conjures the harder moments of homeschooling-the loneliness, the guilt when you feel like you’re not doing enough, the routine which can feel like a trap after endless winter months.
This summer, for the first time, an ever teasing truth(usually spoken to me by non-homeschooling moms) landed on me with a vengeance: what I’m doing is hard. When my olders went off to art camp and the bickering lightened and the youngers and I swept about each day fancy free without the guilt that I should be doing something more, a thought found it’s way through that I’d always kept at bay, “This is what’s it’s like to have kids go to school.”
But let me add in some context. I had already girded myself for last year, knowing that our young babe would add an extra challenge to the days. What I failed to armor up for was a 4 month hospital stay for my father and all the other details that go into that story. I came out of this year reeling. Weighted down by relentless responsibility and my vision cloudier as each day of guilt and effort continued.
Heading into the next year, none of the extra weight has lifted. I walk through my house and climb into my car with a whirlwind of thoughts that must be a visible blur of movement.
How will I keep 18 month old baby sparkles satisfied while we truly dive into the Word, great books, and stories from history?
How will I also set the olders off and running to independent learning so that I can sit and enjoy every shaky step and misspoken word of Sparkles?
How can I keep up the myriad of chores, lessons, character teaching required each day without making myself sick from my own voice and it’s constant call to work, move, produce?
Will we find time to be in the here and now, to laugh loudly, to celebrate moments that have nothing to do with what’s on a list?
How will I recharge in the evenings when I’m off checking on my Dad, how will detailed school planning happen, when will I stop, breathe, and be responsible for nothing and no one but myself for just a few short minutes.
The thought “Why are you choosing this path if it’s so hard for you right now?” is a growing whisper in your head. Stick with me, I’m getting there.
Tonight my schoolroom sits in shambles, shelves half rearranged, old curriculum thrown to the side, clay projects from two years ago with no place to call home. For the last few weeks I’ve fed that hungry whirlwind with lesson plans, strategies for Baby Sparkles, new chore charts to smooth out the care of our home. I see the countdown to monday is bearing down and I keep thinking that a good year for us all hinges on my ability to get everything just right. If the schoolroom is perfectly organized, if the lessons are perfectly written down, if I have a chart that breaks down the day’s duties, if I can just calm the whirlwind into perfect control, we’ll be alright.
Does anything seem faulty, this idea luring me toward skewed priorities and a dependence on the wrong thing(my control) to keep us afloat this year? So I left the schoolroom dangling and sat down to give myself a kick in the pants.
A few weeks ago, in a moment of calm weather(outward and inward), the Lord held back my good intentions of planning and helped me write a mission statement for our school instead. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for years, hoping it will be a compass this year, when inevitably(the first day most likely) things will slip right out of my hands. By looking at it right now, and sharing it with you, I hope that it will remind me that the reason our family has chosen this path has little to do with a schoolroom organized by the dewey decimal system or whether we finish our first year of american history in exactly 36 weeks, or whether my 18 month old acts like a perfectly normal 18 month old!
I haven’t spent too much time editing this or adding in verses to guide each letter of the acronym, this feels like enough to steady us this year.
GUEST FAMILY HOMESCHOOL MISSION STATEMENT
“-that you may shine like the stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life-”
PHILLIPIANS 2:15
Learn for a life time: about God’s world through history, science, and art in order to see His beauty and creativity, power, and love, that we might praise Him and trust Him more.
Identify: journeying with each child as he/she discovers the talents, gifts, passions the Lord has uniquely given them, making a path for those passions to grow. Also helping them to embrace their unique personalities, celebrate their character strengths, and encourage their weaknesses.
Give generously to each other as we honor others above ourselves, building a family who loves, encourages and enjoys one another. As a family we will give generously to others, instilling a purpose that is outward and sacrificial in God’s love.
Honor the Lord with our bodies and minds, learning lifetime habits of prayer, study, healthy eating, and exercise.
Teach God’s word, instructing our hearts through the Word of life, learn His ways above the ways of the world, knowing that His Word gives light to our path, gives joy to our soul, gives wisdom to our heart. This will be unique with each person in our household-each will have a unique relationship with Lord, focusing not on perfect outward behavior, but hearts that yield to the Lord.
I hope the above answers the “why” I’m doing this even though it’s hard. We’ve been called to run this particular race, and run it with perseverance and endurance, hopefully shining a little more as we go. A homeschooling mom of five shared with me just the other day that she’s been praying for God to give her a strategy for this next year. I loved the prayer immediately and thought surely He would give me great specific ideas to quell all of my worries. Though I’m sure He does care about those details, I think the Mission statement He’s given me is my strategy. It’s a strategy of a greater purpose and of an even greater God.
A Quick “Why I do it” Glance
When people find out I homeschool a look of alarm often passes over their face, and inevitably,
“I could never be with my kids all day.”
When this happens about ten conflicting emotions and possible responses begin scrapping it out inside of me. Usually the least offensive, “We all need to make our own choices” statement is the one that finally surfaces. It’s the safe one, anyhow.
But I think I should make up little wallet size cards with a list of reasons why I choose to be at home with my four children everyday. They wouldn’t be the same reasons I’d list in a nicely organized family mission statement. It would start like this:
1.The thousand moments in a day I would miss if my kids were in school or in the car, traveling to and from school and activities, not to mention the hurried morning and the time spent nagging about homework. I get out of breath,grumpy, and less available to snuggle and read just thinking about it.
2. For example, the moments AFTER the morning fight between my girls, when they confess their frustration during our prayer time and their praise for a heart change.
3. The light in Drummer Boy’s eyes as he sits with the girls and does BIG school. He admires them so much even if they don’t recognize it as he follows them around the house and erases any of their personal space.
4. The constant sound of giggles emanating from Sparkles as one, two, and then three siblings vie for her attention.
5. Really getting into a book together.
6. All of the “I get it” moments.
7. Being present when a new passion is discovered.
8. Realizing that one of the kids new passion is something we both love and then realizing we get to share the whole process together.
I have a budding writer in the house. Does she like grammar, proper sentence and paragraph structure, have a passion for good hand-writing? No! But I’ve been there for the aha moments.
“Mommy, even though this stuff is hard, once I learn it, it’s going to make me better at writing stories.”
Mookie: “Sometimes I think about being a writer, but it seems like it’s really hard to get a book published.”
Me: “Just keep writing down your ideas, Mookie.”
“Wow, you mean by reading all the time I’m actually learning how to write, too? I’ve been learning and I didn’t even know it!”
One night as I edited a friend’s piece of writing and explained to Mookie what I was doing, her eyes lit up, “Mommy, can I write something and you can edit it and tell me how to make it better?”
Over the past few weeks we’ve been hard at work on her story for the PBS Story contest. She encountered the same problem she’s had the last few years, not what to write about but how to stay within the word limit. Her ideas just keep flowing. We had to omit several wonderful details to make the cut.
When she read her rough draft aloud, her sister asked some questions about the story. I mention casually,”You know Mookie, when I’m working on something and a friend shares some feedback, I’ll write it down so I can remember it later.” She grabbed a pencil and started taking notes from her 7 year old sister, “What happened to the cornbread after he stuffed it in his pocket? Did it get crumbly in his pocket or did he eat it on the way back?”
I confess I watched her write notes and my heart gave a little leap of praise that I get to share a passion with my daughter. I might also have to bare her disappointment if she doesn’t win a prize(she really, really wants to win a prize), but getting to be with her in the process is somewhere high on that invisible list.
I’m not trying to give a rose-colored view of our homeschooling life. I’ve tried to be honest on this blog and on my other blog about the challenges of mothering and homeschooling multiple children. Do I ALWAYS want to be home with them? No. Are there some days that seem to pass by without even one moment that would make that why-I-do-it list. It feels like it. But to be available for the the 1000(and growing) worth-it-all moments, I have to be available for the rest of the moments, too.
What We’ve Been Up to
We’ve finally picked up speed after the Christmas Break. Keeping our fingers crossed that Spring will come soon, we are-
-Continuing our Indian Studies
-Beginning our first Artist Study of the Year with Picasso
-Finding rhythm and adding cohesiveness to our day with “Square Time”(as named by our 4 year old and inspired by this great ebook on homeschooling multiple children with Circle Time)
-and preparing stories for the PBS Story Contest.
Homeschooling Multiple Children
Each season of homeschooling over the past 4 years has brought it’s own challenges(which means things that make me cry or growl or question my sanity).
In the beginning it was wiping out the only idea of school that I brought from my own childhood, and drawing in a new sketch where learning happened all the time and related to every day life. It was growing in confidence in a decision that was singularly different that anyone in our church or community. Then it was believing that I cared more than any school teacher could care about my child’s heart, education and spiritual life, and I could know her better than anyone as well. Even those triumphs over doubt didn’t show me which curriculum would work best, so we keep going by trial and error. Knowing we were choosing the right path didn’t show me how to homeschool with toddlers and babies and dishes and my own desires.
As we head into the second half of our school year, baby Sparkles is now mobile and responsibilities even more divided, I don’t wonder if I should be homeschooling. I’m only seeking a few tips to keep us open and fresh, excited and flexible, and to keep the growling and crying to a minimal.
Last night in preparation for a day of planning and prayer, I googled “homeschooling multiple children”. The first post I found was this one. Instead of being a how-to list of ideas that sound good in a blog post but aren’t actually helpful, it’s a portrait of a morning when nothing went as planned. I was cracking up! And I think I needed that, because I really need the gift of being able to laugh every day, more than I need ideas that worked for one family but won’t fit mine.
However, if I come up with any good tips I’ll surely pass them along for what they’re worth. Tip #1: Laugh instead of cry, start with this link.