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.
“Mommy, I can picture it now…”
That’s what I’ve heard from my 5 year old son each time we’ve read aloud for the last two weeks. Because of his older sister, I thought it was normal for all children to enjoy the Narnia books at 4 and listen to two hours of Little House on the Prairie tapes by age 5. On the contrary to his very auditory older sister, prior to the past few weeks, the boy always groaned when I pulled out a chapter book and he’s just begun to enjoy books on tape but mostly prefers music not long well-written prose. Finally, he’s tracking a lengthy story with enthusiasm, stopping twice in thirty minutes to say, “Mommy, I can picture it. I can see the fence and the tree and the dogs trying to get the coon. I bet Billy’s going to win the bet, don’t you?”
The book that has won him over is Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls. Well, it has the right elements to capture a boy’s heart-a determined boy with an adventure, puppy and woods style. Even my girls are roaming through Billy’s world in their mind as we read, anxious to see who will win, coon or dog.
So I’m here to encourage you. If your boy needs to jump and drive cars while you read, let him. Throw in great picture books along with your chapter book while he’s still growing into his listening and comprehension skills. Keep trying GREAT books, and eventually I hope you’ll hear those sweet words, “No, don’t stop, another chapter, plee-ase!”
Readers note: This book does contain tragedy, some detailed passages of a fatal injury to a human and a heart-wrenching ending that is worth tears of sadness and joy as Billy struggles with the ways of God. I edited those two passages for younger ears.
Discovering a Nothing to Do Kind of Day
We happened upon a sweet picture book that I wanted to share with you. We’ve been happening upon a lot of great picture book finds now that summer has begun and I’m not pulling chapter books for school. I’d forgotten the joy of walking through the aisles and pulling out a book with great illustrations, maybe something I’ve never seen before or maybe an old friend.
Tonight’s surprise grab from the library bag was Nothing to Do by Douglas Wood and Illustrated by Wendy Anderson Halperin.
Nothing to Do begins likes this:
“Once in a while, along comes a day when there is nothing-absoultely, positively nothing to do.”
Which at first sounds similiar to our children’s cry of boredom, but it’s actually the voice of a boy who’s celebrating the day that has no “school. homework. dance class. soccer practice. no anything.” And he embarks upon a day of true childhood fun, entreating the person with the “big shoes”(aka, us, the adults) to give it a try.
With whimsical illustrations, the girls and I were reminded of the potential of a There’s Nothing to Do Today kind of day.
In this book Halperin chooses six patterns from nature and uses them as the base of each picture. We might try our own take on her ideas tomorrow. With pure happenstance(I didn’t even know what the book was about before we opened it) waiting on the printer was a list of things to do when you’re bored that I’d printed out the night before. The girls ran and grabbed the list, giggling at “organize your room” and “walk the dog”(mom, we don’t have a dog).
It turns out we’re familiar with Halperin’s illustrations through another series from the summer. If you enjoy her illustrations try the Cobble Street Cousins by Cynthia Rylant, illustrated by Halperin as well. Be prepared for your kids to ask if they can start their own cookie company in the neighborhood.
The next book kept our good mood rolling,
Abe Lincoln Crosses a Creek: A Tall, Thin Tale(Introducing His Forgotten Friend) by Deborah Hopkinson
If you like this one try another book by Hopkinson,
Apples to Oregon Being the (slightly) True Narrative of How a Brave Pioneer Father Brought Apples, Peaches Pears, Plums, Grapes, and Cherries(and Children) Across the Plain Illustrated by Nancy Carpenter
Both are based on true events but told with tall tale humor.
Enjoy your day, reading or doing nothing.
Making Peace with History
Like most homeschool moms at the end of the year I find myself itching to jump into the Land of Possibility for next fall, rather than wringing out the last official school days of this year. I’d rather imagine the potential for great learning moments and Google the books we’ve yet to purchase than attend to the task of keeping everyone’s spirits up for the home stretch. As I race to used curriculum sales and imagine the perfect planning weekend away with friends, I’m surprised to find that the subject I’m most excited about is History.
Let me give you my own history with History. I remember thick textbooks with timelines and pictures that seemed completely unrelated to me. Late night sweat sessions as I tried to absorb enough facts to pass the multiple choice test the next day. It didn’t bother me that I didn’t care about the subject and by college I fully committed to naptime during my summer class on the Middle East. I secretly prided myself on being a “here and now” kind of girl, a time that was obviously more relevant than anything previous. Even learning the background of my major, theater, fell flat against the passion of being onstage in the moment.
Who knew I would marry a man who, if he had been a history teacher, would have regularly donned a revolutionary war costume and staged mock battles on the playground? Did we discuss the compatibility of a husband who watches documentaries as a way to relax after a long day and a wife who thought their only use might be post-traumatic therapy from high school history class? Don’t even get me started on how we both felt about museums full of artifacts. I remember one particular conversation (one sided, that is) as I read my novel and he read his non-fiction, when I realized he’d been silent and staring at me expectantly for several moments, and I hastily responded, “All I heard was pirates, pirates, pirates.”
Fast forward to the realization that instructing our children at home would mean, that’s right, teaching the darned subject. Yawn, boring, why not pass it over to my husband? And that’s what we did some years when we weren’t squeezing it into a unit study which made it a bit more palatable.
Why then as I think about next year, do I find my heart beating a bit quicker as I look through my great finds for our coming year of American History? I think it started with the excitement of my children who have caught their father’s enthusiasm. No one told them that loving other time periods is nerdy or boring, so instead they travel (with playmobiles or costumes) regularly to 17 and 1800’s. Secondly, those documentaries have started to woo me in the same way that my husband has absorbed my love of brownie batter (granted, his obsession is probably healthier than what I gave to him). I sat late into the night with him catching the final discs of John Adams with Paul Giamatti. (yes, I know it’s not a documentary, but close).
All of the above, combined with some great books over our 5 years of home learning, has finally lifted the veil on history, allowed it to shed it’s bad reputation, and showed it’s true nature: stories. Story after story with characters made even more intriguing by the fact that their feet tread this earth at one time.
Story is something I already love, passionately. You mean I get to share stories, go on adventures, and even discover the existence of a woman flier during the time of Amelia Earhart with my exact same name?
That’s what I want to be, a teacher of stories already told and a conjurer of stories yet to be written.
(Please don’t tell my husband because this is a slippery slope I walk. There was the documentary last week on a frozen baby mammoth that made me want to reconsider my tender feelings toward history, and I’d still rather make art than walk through floor after floor of of african masks and fertile god statues.)
Read This Book Out Loud
Life and learning have carried on over the past few months even without a record of either in words.
For today, a quick review of a book that we’ve all fallen head over heels for in the Anteater house. Experiencing books aloud has brought us much joy over the years, long past the time that my nine year started reading on her own.
The Indian and the Cupboard contains all of the elements that make for a great family read-aloud. Adventure, characters that jump off the page and demand a great performance, anxious and hilarious scenes, and a story that was enjoyed from ages 5 to 32(note: probably the first chapter book that our 5 year old boy didn’t say “next you’ll read a book for me, right mommy” when I pulled it out, this time it was his book too).
When Omri receives a cast-off plastic indian from his best friend he tries to shrug off his disappointment, only to discover that with the help of an old cupboard and a family heirloom key, it will be his most memorable present ever. After studying Indians this year, we all appreciated that Little Bear was not just a generic Indian but an Iroquois who refuses a teepee and builds a longhouse instead. The care to detail doesn’t necessarily carry over to Boone, the cowboy, but he’s really too loveable to let that matter long. This story opens-wide the possibility of favorite toys being brought to life and the possible, unnexpected consequences when Omri and Patrick discover just how real their toys can become. Note: From a parent’s perspective, this made a better read aloud because there were a few words and phrases along with a playful emphasis at the end on Boone’s cowboy-ish need for a drink that I skipped over without losing any of the grand adventure.
Add it to the summer read aloud list.
Other books you might consider reading aloud if you stopped sharing stories after the Dr. Seuss years(these will appeal to various ages, you know your family the best):
- My Father’s Dragon
- The Invention of Hugo Cabret
- Peter Pan
- Anne of Green Gables
- The Narnia Series
- Mrs. Piggle Wiggle
- Mr. Poppers Penguins
- A Wrinkle in time
- The Hobbit
Speaking of books, I was out just this morning combing garage sales for our family bookstore, our idea for spurring on young readers.
reading together last spring
News Worth Sharing
Didn’t I just say I was taking a break until next monday?
Well, we got news today that just had to be shared.
Do you remember that the girls worked very hard, over several weeks, on their stories and illustrations for the PBS Story Contest?
I’ve been watching the mail anxiously, hoping the girls would get rewarded for their hard work and also concerned for the letdown if one sister won and one sister didn’t. That was the scenario a few years ago. And of course the focus at our house is not on prizes, but I felt like this would be good timing for the girls to be affirmed in their efforts and talent outside of just mom and dad.
In the beginning, after they had written their stories I asked,
“Okay, how do you want to do your illustrations? Collage, colored pencil, water color?
“Acrylics,” they both agreed.
“Guys, really acrylics? Are you sure?
“Yes.”
They learned very quickly how a sketch can change once you start layering on thick paint, especially in the fine details. After 2 or 2 illustrations they were ready to give up. But they pushed through and both felt proud of the final story and paintings.
So. Today. The mail. I wondered if the girls would get big envelopes or slims ones. From past experience, if you don’t win you receive your story and certificate in the mail. But if you do win you get a slim envelope and your story is returned at the award ceremony.
Two slim envelopes!
Confident enough to be excited by now and not so worried I ran up the driveway with the letters and called the girls.
And the winners are…..
Mookie-Best Illustrator, 3rd grade
Jellybean-Best Illustrator, 2nd grade
Woo hoo! The only two names on the whole winners list from the same family. Two sisters pulled it off!
They deserved it.
The real reward for both of them will be much richer than a backpack of books and a trip to the theater.
A peek into their work-I’m going to let them read and record their stories and we’ll post the audio and illustrations after the awards.
Paul’s Great Adventure-by Mookie
How Quack Laid an Egg, by Jellybean
Congratulations, girls!
love, mama
See You Soon
Dear Reader,
I’ll be taking a break until next monday.
A quick note: After a weekend trip(well, two) to the library, 75 library books now reside in our home. 75! That does not include the 50 or so I actually purchased from a library sale that will remain at our home forever more.
But more on that later,
See you soon.
Keeping Track of Good Reads
My middlest daughter has gained the most ground with her reading whenever we’ve offered an incentive of some kind. While her older sister is reading a chapter book every two days, Jellybean still bounces around from book to book, never really seeing one all the way through. I’ve been trying to think of a way for the girls to keep a record of the books they’ve read.
I found these fun book forms tonight, they look like a creative way to summarize a book. I’m thinking about offering some time of incentive for every 5 log pages completed. No, they won’t have to do one on every book they read, and I might make the number higher for the 9 year old. Our summer bookstore will be opening again in a few months, so I’m thinking of a simpler reward for the present moment. We’ve instituted a full hour of quietness at our house, removing play and audio books for those precious moments of peace. Maybe I’ll offer minutes of audio book time on fridays, I’ll have to think on it.
I printed several of each type of log and I’ll let them choose what strikes their fancy. They’ll keep their completed forms in a folder and then we can staple them together at the end of the year. I think I’ll also provide a blank list for recording the titles of books that aren’t entered into a form.
To view and print the six book logs, go here, click on any of the “logs”.
Jimmie also has some great resources for encouraging your child to dive, not just toe waggle, into a book.
Feed the Hungry Readers-Builder Edition
A few posts back I wrote about a great find for hungry book lovers-Books Children Love. We just picked up our first round of holds from the library. Books on performing plays, recycled trash art, a new-to-us George MacDonald story, and this source of inspiration.
Block Building for Children by Lester Walker:
I’m amazed at the 101 uses of simple wooden blocks since they entered our house 4 children and 8 years ago. The same set has prompted endless imaginative play(a great toy is one that can become anything you want it to be). When I saw this book in the list under architecture in Books Children Love, I ordered in for my visual/kinesthetic boy who’s been building roads and tracks since he was 1. Today the kids and I flipped through it and oohed and aahed at the airport, train station, skyscrapers and other ideas. Warning-this books will cause block envy. Now we want to double our block capacity and get some of the wedges and curved blocks shown in the book. On the other hand the kids weren’t too daunted, they looked for something they could pull off and then just did the best they could with what they had. ”Let’s just look through it and then take the ideas and make our own things,” said the 7 year old when faced with the limitations.
Here’s the first of their creations: The Greek Temple(with playmobile gods, of course)
Later there was a house with doors, windows, and several rooms. I think there were also robbers and a dog shop on the roof, but that wasn’t in the book.
Update: Whoops! I wrote this post late at night and didn’t check my facts. I didn’t actually find this book in Books Children Love, but instead caught a glance of it on the side bar here.
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.