Musing on preschool

I'm in such a quandary over what to do for my 3 1/2 year old daughter in terms of preschool. I am firmly of the mind that little children don't need a lot of academics and that pushing them too early is probably not a good idea. I don't want a formal preschool curriculum. But I also have a little girl who climbs up in my lap every day and asks to "do school." I find myself scrambling to come up with something that, to her, feels like we are doing school, that she wants to do right at that moment.

I have "Peak With Books," loaned to my by a friend, which has a lot of great ideas. But it requires a lot of planning ahead, and my poor third child is not getting the bulk of my planning time for her benefit. I also have a tub of random preschoolish activities that were passed on to me, and sometimes we're able to pull something out of that, but it isn't really enough.

I read to her often, and she's the little tag along on lots of outings and field trips and other activities. We have a little preschool group that meets twice a month at our house, and we do stories and games and art projects and such. She loves that time and it makes me sad that her "preschool friends," as she calls it, will be lost when we move.

What I need is something that isn't too structured, but already laid out for me to use. Something I can open up, pull something out, and go. I've looked and looked, and I don't think what I want actually exists.

I should probably do something organization wise, rather than trying to find the perfect curriculum. Maybe if I had a little preschool basket that was hers - I could put in special books, maybe with a theme, as well as other little supplies and a few worksheets she can scribble on. When I come up with other ideas for activities for her to do, I can place them in the basket and she can choose what she wants to do during our school time.

That's a good thought. Of course, it means I have to actually, you know, PREPARE stuff, which I'm awful at. I should say, I'm inconsistent. Sometimes I have all kinds of things prepped and ready to go. But eventually I fall behind, get overwhelmed and subsequently ignore everything in favor of Facebook, blog reading and pinterest, and fall into bed at the end of the night with a running list of things I didn't get done and the knowledge that I did it all to myself.

Sigh.

I need to think more on how to make some special time and resources for my littlest nugget.

My little boy and his bedtime worries

My oldest son has serious issues when he is overtired. He always has, from the time he was a newborn baby. He would stay awake too long and have a terrible time falling asleep again. That trait hasn't left him, it has just taken different forms as he's gotten a little older. Now that he is eight, it has turned into bedtime fears. The poor little guy is a bit of a worrier anyway, but when he is extra tired, he invents the strangest things to be afraid of. Sure, he's had the typical fear of monsters or of the house burning down - things that seem to be pretty normal for some kids. But in addition to those, he's amassed quite the list of irrational fears.

He went through a phase of being afraid of touching two separate substances, mysteriously found on everyday objects, that, when combined, would turn into poison.

He's been afraid of things like monsters, but also of randomly turning into a zombie.

He was afraid of "bad guys" breaking in through his room, despite the fact that the window is locked and his room is on the second story.

He was afraid of various things in his room coming alive in the night.

For a while he was afraid that his brain didn't work properly and he would stop breathing if he didn't think about breathing.

They've gotten more elaborate as time has gone on. Tonight he was afraid that his brother was going to somehow rip out his own rib, and that he might be randomly compelled to do the same thing. This was after Grayson, the little brother, showed him how he could stick his fingers under his lowest rib (skinny little dude that he is). This completely freaked him out and he jumped to the conclusion that not only would it be possible to rip your own rib out, but that Grayson was going to rip out a rib and then he just might do it too.

The hard thing is that when he gets overtired (a few too many late bedtimes is all it takes), he gets completely irrational at bedtime and no matter how many times we tell him, "It is physically impossible to rip a rib out of your own body," he doesn't believe you. He'll look you in the eye and whimper and wring his little hands and say, "Ok." Then when you try to leave, he starts in again with the, "But I'm scared!" and insist he's still afraid of the same thing.

Tonight we managed to help him calm himself down fairly quickly, although not without a lot of frustration on all sides. I feel bad that I'm not more sympathetic to his anxieties, but the tough part is, once he gets past a certain point of hysterical, he usually has to just wear himself out crying for a while before we can get through to him. Fortunately tonight wasn't so bad, he calmed down relatively quickly and we prayed together and he was able to go to bed.

One thing I really want for him is to be able to handle his emotions on his own. Obviously he's still a little guy, so we're here to help him wade through the tide of his fears. But over time, he needs to develop some ability to cope. He's very sensitive, emotionally, and does have a lot of worries. We're working on some ways for him to express those feelings and work them out, so I hope that will help him in the long run. I just don't want him to grow up without the deep realization that he is in charge of himself - he can make choices as to how he reacts and how he handles any situation.

He's a wonderful little guy, so smart and sensitive and caring. I'm sure glad God is in charge, because I never could have dreamed up a kid so awesome. I sure hope I'm worthy of the incredible honor of being his mother - and not screwing him up too badly.

Absorbing ancient Troy

Sometimes you'll hear homeschoolers talking about their younger children absorbing all this great information as they "listen in" on what the bigger kids are doing. They follow along, wanting to be like big brother or big sister, and get all these great educational benefits from just being there. Doesn't that sound nice?

I thought so too, but my five-year-old doesn't read the same blogs that I do. He's not really the "sit and listen" type, at least not for long stretches of time and only if there are pictures involved. He spends much of big brother's school time building things, destroying things he built with lots of sound effects, or putting together puzzles.

He surprised me today, however, when he came to me and said, "Mama, I'm going to build the city of Troy with my legos. And the big horse too."

Oooh, look at that! He was listening! He's absorbing! I am the greatest homeschool mom ever!

"That's great buddy! I love that idea. I can't wait for you to show me."

He comes back later with a large base plate and a square-ish structure roughly in one corner. I ask, "Wow, is this the wall, or is it a building?"

He looks at me like I'm a little dense, "No, this is a building. The wall will go here," and traces his finger around the outside of the base plate.
"Ok," I say. "This looks good."

"Yeah," he says, pointing to some lego bricks sticking out of the top of the building. "And these are the laser guns and this is a security camera."

Um.... maybe not absorbing quite so much?

"That's neat buddy, but you know, they didn't have lasers or guns or cameras in ancient Troy. That story is from a really, really long time ago."

"Yeah, but it seemed like they needed more security."

Can't argue with his logic, can I?

Finding my joy in little green army men

I just had a moment that almost brought me to my knees. I've been in a funk lately. I'm too tired, too lethargic, too stressed, too unmotivated, procrastinating everything and generally feeling crappy. I've been feeling like there's just too much to do, my house is always a mess, I'm always behind, etc. etc.

I was walking through my room, making the pile of unfolded laundry a slightly more organized pile, and looking around at the army men, pencils and markers, books, and hand-sewn pillows that are currently cluttering my floor. My first thought was to be annoyed - why do they have to leave their crap all over MY floor too? It's bad enough that their rooms are messy, the upstairs is messy, the kitchen is messy. Why here too? This is my room, damnit.

And then it hit me and it brought me to tears. I have kids making a mess.

I have kids.

I didn't always know I'd have kids because for several years, we couldn't seem to manage it. Have I forgotten those days, when I prayed for them? Has it been so long that I don't remember? How can I forget those morning drives to work, my heart full of prayers for a baby? How can I lose the sense of despair I felt, not knowing if I would ever be a mother? How can I forget what it was like to want something so desperately that I would have done anything, paid anything, to have it?

I have it now. And damn, but I've been taking it for granted lately.

My life is not so hard that I need to walk around in a cloud of meloncholy. I mean, really. Yes, my life is sometimes chaotic, and almost always messy. But really, would I give up the mess? Would I trade in those precious, precious little people for more order, for less responsibility, for more time? Oh hell no.

God hit me over the head with that one, and what's funny is, I've been asking Him to do it. I've been asking Him to remind me, to help me find my joy.

I found it in some little green army men.

Making time for the littlest one

I'm cute, even with a dirty face

Today I took my 3 year old daughter with me to Costco. It was just the two of us; the boys went with Daddy to get the oil changed on our truck (man time - very important!). As we headed out of our neighborhood, we passed the neighborhood school; the school my oldest went to for his kindergarten year, and the school both my boys would be attending if we weren't homeschooling.

The thought occurred to me, as I enjoyed some silly banter with my girly-girl, that she might be missing out on some special one-on-one time because the boys are home. We don't drop them off at school in the morning, and then head out to run errands together, or go home and read picture books and build puzzles, just the two of us. It is rare that she gets me all to herself, and if the boys were in a traditional school, she would.

Am I missing something here? In choosing to homeschool based primarily on where my oldest son was at the time, did I overlook the time my daughter would have had alone with Mommy during these precious preschool-ish years?

Perhaps.

I admit it sent me down the mommy-guilt road, even if just for a little while. She does love her mommy time, and yes she does have less of it than she might have otherwise. At least for now.

But she does have other things, as a result of this funny life we live. And she'll have even more of those other things as she grows - things she wouldn't have if we weren't home educating.

She has time with her brothers. They are home with us all the time, but really, that's a plus. They all love each other a heck of a lot, and get along pretty well. Maybe I'm in for it later, but there isn't a ton of bickering amongst my kids; some, but not the overwhelming sort that makes me wish I could pack them off to school all day.

She has all sorts of learning opportunities at their side. We go on field trips as a family. She goes to the art museums and the ballet performances and the nature walks and the zoo trips. She sits at the table with us as we work and colors or cuts paper. She sees them reading and working and learning; these things are simply a part of our days, a part of our life, a part of our world.

In the long run, she'll have far more time with me, alone and otherwise, than she would if she was headed for school in a year or two. She may not have mornings alone with mommy while her brothers are at school, but she also won't be away from me at preschool (and isn't now) for several hours a week. And later, she won't be away from me for 7 hours a day, as she would if she were traditionally schooled. I think my worries about time spent with her are truly no worry at all.

The key to making this life work well for all of them, I think, is to mindfully spend time with each of them, each day. That has always been easy with my oldest; he loves attention and if he's feeling neglected, he will be right there to tell you all about it. I naturally spend most of our school time with him; he's older with more work to do. I've recognized that for a long time, and done my best to make sure to attend to the needs of my younger son as best I can. He's quieter in his own fashion, and doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeve, so I know I need to come to him to fill up his "love tank."

But my sweet girl, she needs that same effort. She needs to be held and loved and read to. She needs me to sit with her and watch her paste stickers or glob glue on construction paper. She needs me to integrate her into our day as I can, instead of pushing her off so I can get things done with her brothers.

It isn't easy, I'll tell you that. Schooling two instead of just one this year has made a pretty significant difference in how our days flow, even though my kindergartner's workload is gentle. Adding a third is a challenge. And it isn't a curriculum or a set of plans that she needs. She just needs time. I have the resources; the books, the toys, the art supplies. I just need to be sure to set aside the time to be with her. It's what I'm working on as we head into the second month of the year.

Rounding up

Our best friends have two boys who are a few years older than our kids - 11 and 9. Well, technically I guess they are 11 1/2 and 9 1/2, since both have birthdays in April.

They stopped by this afternoon to bid farewell and wish us a Merry Christmas as they headed out to their week-long family Christmas a few hours away. Their oldest wandered in decked out in headphones, listening to something on his ipod. When it was time for them to go, their dad had to get his attention because, with his music playing, he didn't hear what was being said. The father made a comment along the lines of, "Yep, he's a teen."

No. No, he's not. Not quite. But his parents often refer to him that way, and I have to say, it drives me crazy.

He is on the threshold of that transition into the teenage years, standing on the brink of puberty. He's getting really tall, his shoes are almost as big as his dad's and he has his moments of "teen-ish" behavior.

But he still comes over and has nerf battles with my boys. He still builds things out of Legos and plays elaborate games of pretend. He still plays. I love that about him, and at 11 years old, he should.

I know that he's going to change. That there will come a time when he stops coming over to play with my boys, in favor of other things. There will come a time when girls aren't icky (they are firmly in the gross category, as are any movies or TV shows with kissing... ewwww!). There will come a time, all too soon, when he's moved beyond young childhood and entered the realm of his teenage years. I don't begrudge him that, nor am I in denial that he's getting older.

What bothers me is how often his parents, and I see other parents doing this too, how often they skip ahead in their language. They speak of him as if he's already 13 years old and sulking in a corner with his headphones, unreachable in his teenage angst. He's not. He's happy and fun and sociable and still so, so young. He's such a child and I fear that they are missing out on that; they're missing the last months of this phase of childhood in their eagerness for him to grow up.

Granted, as parents it is all too easy to succumb to that sentiment. We want to see our babies roll over, we encourage them to crawl, and we celebrate when they walk and say their first words. We delight in their growth, in their accomplishments and new skills. This doesn't end as they leave the baby and toddler years behind. We love to watch them learn and grow and try new things. All of that is wonderful, but there's a line that is crossed when the parents seem all too eager to jump ahead and place their child in the next phase before they are truly there.

A passing comment about him being a "teen" isn't the only thing that has prompted my musings on this topic. They, and other friends of mine, have said things that make me think they are watching their kids' childhoods go by with a sort of checklist, checking off the time and almost looking forward to its end. I doubt they would see it that way if confronted with the idea, but things they say still leave me with such an impression.

I guess I just don't know why people want to round up when it comes to their kids ages and stages. It gives the impression of being in a hurry to get this child-rearing business done, and that makes me a little sad. Enjoy each stage of their life for what it is and let it pass in its own time; they will be grown and gone all too soon.

Worth remembering

Today wasn't an extraordinary day. It was a simple day, but in it's simplicity, worth remembering.

We started with our little preschool group and my daughter's exclamations of, "My preschool friends are coming!" were so sweet. I love our little preschool group we have going - we only meet a couple times a month, but it provides an hour or so that is dedicated to our littlest learners, something most of us homeschooling moms struggle with a bit, as so many of our activities and responsibilities revolve around our older kids. We painted paper plate wreaths, played with peppermint scented playdough (I felt so crafty making my own playdough!), listened to stories and played "freeze dance" to "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." So fun.

Our friends said goodbye, and we had some lunch, followed by a chance for the kids to finish the movie they'd started watching last night. Disney movies on Netflix for the win! When that was done, we snuggled in together on the couch for a reading of the original story of Cinderella. We talked about how it was different from the movie (although that wasn't what they'd just watched, we did watch the Disney Cinderella not too long ago), and we were all interested to know her name in the Grimm's version is Isabella. I'd always thought it was just "Ella" and they tacked on the "cinder" to make Cinderella. My kids pointed out the lack of talking mice, and how the prince himself comes to try on her slipper, and recognizes her before he even puts the slipper on her foot. They loved how it ended, with Cinderella telling her jealous stepsisters that they are welcome to come visit her in the palace anytime, that there will always be a bed ready - the hearthstone next to the cinders.

We've been working on a fairy tale "book" that includes an art project for each story we read. I had the rather brilliant idea, if I do say so myself, to have the boys make pumpkin carriages out of some of our Halloween pumpkins (considering we had about 6 of them). Of course, I had that thought back in October and somehow it is now mid-December... Hmmmm, not sure how that happened. Luckily, we still had a couple pumpkins that were still intact.

The boys made these crazy, wonderful "mixed-media" pumpkins. I set out a random assortment of supplies and told them to make carriages, however they wanted. I just love what they came up with - they worked on them for nearly an hour, intently problem solving to find the best way to make wheels and windows, and my oldest even added horses and reigns, as well as a little drawing of Cinderella inside the carriage through one of the windows. My younger son's randomness shined through, with two "windows" including lots of foam stickers and a "cover" for the stem that didn't seem to have a real purpose, but it was the first thing he made. They were both very happy with their creations.

 

David, my recently-turned-8-year-old, has been wanting to make a sling shot for a while, and since it was not raining today (a rare occurrence this time of year around here), we decided a walk in the woods to hunt for a good stick was in order. Both boys found sticks, and we did our best to craft a couple of sling shots out of them, along with some elastic I'd saved (glad I saved it!), and electrical tape. They had a lot of fun trying them out in the backyard. It took more skill than I realized - I couldn't get a rock to go more than a few feet, but David hurled a few of them across the yard.

We finished up our day with playtime, dinner and a LOT of reading aloud. I'm literally a bit hoarse from reading so many books, but it was precious time and I'm more than happy to sacrifice my voice for it.

A good day, worth remembering.

The Nutcracker

I've always loved the Nutcracker Ballet. I've been to see the Pacific Northwest Ballet's production of the Nutcracker several times, and it is so wonderful. The music is beautiful, and the expressiveness of the story played out in dance so lovely. The sets and costumes were designed by the amazing Maurice Sendak (of Where the Wild Things Are fame), giving the entire production an air of whimsy and magic that I have always loved.

Since we began having children, we've talked about how great it would be to take them to see the Nutcracker someday. My husband loves it too (and I feel ridiculously lucky to have a husband who enjoys the ballet), so it was something we've looked forward to for a long time.

Today we took all three of our kids to see it and it was just as magical as I'd hoped it would be.

My boys sat on the edges of their seats as the mice fought the toy soldiers. The cannon shot took them both by surprise. The giant mouse king was fascinating as ever and even they gasped a little when they saw the Nutcracker had changed into a prince. My daughter loved the character Clara, both as a girl and as the "ballet princess," as she called her. The ooh'ed and the snowflake dancers, and ahh'd at the sugar plumb fairies.

It was such a treat to sit with my kids and share something with them that I hold dear - and it actually played out as well as it could have. You know how it is with kids and expectations; they have a way of crushing your tightly held dreams with their chaotic reality. Yes, we had a couple stressful moments (that bell ringing to warn you intermission is winding down while you're still in the bathroom with a five year old who insists on taking 10 minutes to go "big potty" can definitely make the blood pressure rise a bit). But overall, they were so well behaved, they watched with rapt attention, and loved it.

We wound down the day by having dinner and dessert backwards (courtesy of my three year old who needed a potty stop and the closest bathroom happened to be at a Dairy Queen), and later watched Charlie Brown Christmas snuggled on the couch together.

Life with kids isn't all fun and games, but sometimes things fall into place just how you imagined. Today was one of those magical days.

Being open to life isn't only what you think

A few weeks ago, I was at mass with my three kids. Daddy couldn't be with us, so I was braving the pews with my young children alone (they are 7, 5 and 3). This isn't usually a big deal. My kids aren't perfect (naturally), but they are pretty well behaved. They're used to mass, they know what is expected, and most of the time, they are just fine.

Not that Sunday.

My boys asked to sit in the front row, but that was clearly a mistake. Often the front row affords them an unobstructed view of the altar and the priest and they wind up watching what is happening a little more - and squirming and making noise a little less. That day it simply meant the whole parish had an unobstructed view of my kids being monkeys.

I did my best to keep them calm and quiet. I'm certain it was clear to anyone watching that I was struggling with my kids, but I wasn't letting them run rampant by any stretch of the imagination. And really, they weren't that bad. They were squirrely, and talking too much, and my oldest son kept making my 3 year old daughter laugh. But I've seen worse.

We'd almost made it through the entire mass. I had successfully navigated potty trips, discarded shoes, attempts to twirl, tickle, and drop things, and had hustled us back to our seats after receiving Communion. Then, as I held my daughter in my lap, insisting my other two keep to their seats, someone came up to me (an usher, I believe), knelt down and quickly said, "Could you please move to the back of the church? Your kids are distracting people."

<Insert me with my jaw on the floor here.>

He walked away quickly, not even giving me a chance to respond. I was floored. Absolutely floored. Communion was nearly over (which means mass was nearly over), and my kids were seated. Yes, we'd had a challenging time that morning, but it wasn't as if I'd had screaming and crying children and I did nothing. The worst thing they did was giggle loudly a lot.

Tears sprang to my eyes and I gathered up my kids and all our stuff and high tailed it to the parking lot. I just wanted out of there. I was so hurt and humiliated. I felt as if everyone in church must have been watching me, judging me. I felt betrayed and unwelcome.

In all the time we've attended mass at this parish, we have never been made to feel unwelcome or that our kids were a problem. We love our parish, and most of the time the atmosphere is very welcoming to families with children of all ages.

I was horrified that day, and also surprised that the comment hurt me so deeply. And then I got to thinking; what if it hadn't been me? What if it hadn't been someone who is a solid member of the parish community? What if it had been someone new? Perhaps someone who had been away from the church for a while? Someone who felt like I did when my first son was a baby, that taking kids to church just wasn't worth the hassle? I remember feeling that way very well. And if someone had asked me to move to the back of the church in those days - I never would have gone back.

As Catholics, we are called to be open to life. I'd wager most people assume that only applies to married couples. I say, it applies to each and every one of us. We have to be open to life, not just as families, but as faith communities. We cannot ask parents to be open to new life, and then shun them or shame them when they bring those new lives into our midst at mass. We have to embrace them, support them, love them all the more because they are bringing up the next generation of Catholics. If we drive them all away because someone doesn't like crying babies at mass, where will our church be in 10 years? In 20 years?

Being open to life means we must embrace the young families at our parishes. We must welcome them, smile at them knowingly when their babies cry and their toddlers throw a fit. We must help them pick up their spilt cheerios and offer scraps of drawing paper and pens to help distract their little ones. At the very least, we must not cast our eyes askance at them when their children act up. Children will be children, and I remember well how difficult mass can be when you are young. No, kids can't sit still; they can't always be quiet. They will be disruptive sometimes, but life with children is disruptive and messy and chaotic and wonderful. These children who are crying and squirming and interrupting - these children are the future of our church and their mothers and fathers are in desperate need of our loving support.

So if you see a mother at church, struggling to contain her young ones, consider offering to help or at least offering her a warm smile. She's probably doing the best she can, and I think we should praise God that she is there at all.

Kids and Creativity

I'm a big fan of the blog Deep Space Sparkle. This lovely blog is run by an elementary school art teacher, Patty. She shares wonderful art projects, including how to's, supply lists and even pictures of the art her students produce. Her love of art and her passion teaching her students is evident, and her art lessons are so much fun and easy to implement, even at home. Love it!

She recently wrote a post about "open ended art" in response to a critique someone wrote about her blog. An art education student wrote a review of her site and in it, this person called her projects "cookie cutter" and said there was a lack of open ended art projects on her site. She wrote a very gracious response to the critique (and not everything this art student had to say about Deep Space Sparkle was negative), but the topic got me thinking as well. Should we be teaching art in a specific way, with a singular end product in mind? Or should we be teaching kids to do art their own way, keeping it open ended so their creativity can flow?

It reminded me of something I read with regard to teaching language arts and writing - I can't recall where I read this particular nugget, but it has stuck with me. Paraphrased, the person said, "We expect children to be creative, but we don't give them anything to be creative with." In this context, they were talking about exposure to great literature and using copywork of great writing to expose kids to how language can be used.

I think the same thing applies to art. We want kids to be creative, but until they've been exposed to the masters, to great paintings, sculpture and other works of art; and until they've been taught how to use watercolors versus acrylics and oil pastels, crayons and colored pencils, how can they really BE creative? Art instruction, both in technique and in art history, gives students the tools to unlock endless possibilities! How else would they know that if you draw with oil pastel and then watercolor over it, the oil pastel will resist the paint? How else would they know how to draw a vanishing point or learn about perspective and form?

I love the idea of creative kids, but without feeding their imaginations with great stuff, they don't have much creative with. Great books, art, music, and even instruction in technique, is all important to unleashing their creativity; giving them tools to be creative with. And then, the sky is the limit.

On busyness and filling our time

Life with kids is busy.

Whether they work outside the home, stay home full time, or some combination; whether they drive carpool to school, put kids on a bus, or homeschool - parents are busy. From morning till night, parents live in a crazy world of preparing meals, dressing, correcting, loving, reading, playing, watching and otherwise being with their kids.

During my oldest son's kindergarten year, when I was staunchly trying to avoid the little voice in my head that was trying to get me to think about homeschooling, one of my main fears and objections (when I would allow myself to consider the possibility), was that I was too busy to homeschool. How could I possibly fit it in? It would be so much work!

In fact, that's one of the things people often say to me when the subject comes up. "I could never homeschool! I don't have time! I don't know how you do it!" That, along with "I don't have the patience," probably tops the list of responses I get when I mention I homeschool.

I was thinking about that today - about how concerned I was about the busyness of homeschooling. But the truth is, I don't know that I'd feel any less busy if my kids were attending school. Granted, maybe if you added up the time I spend doing things all day, every day, there would be less to do if I wasn't homeschooling. But in terms of how I feel about it? I don't know that I'd feel some overabundance of time if I wasn't homeschooling.

Granted, my life feels crazy busy a lot of the time. But if I was sending the kids to traditional school, there would be early mornings to get everyone up and dressed, lunches to be made, and kids to hurry off to school. My daughter would still be home with me, and there would still be errands to run, things to do at home, and a child to entertain. This year, with a kinder and a 2nd grader, school pick up would be at two different times. Then afternoons full of homework and trying to fit in any other activities or interests. Dinner, a little time after, and the bedtime routine would follow.

I bet I'd collapse into bed just as tired as I am now.

I think very often, we let our tasks fill up the space we have. If we have 5 things to do, it could take all day, even if we're capable of accomplishing 10. But when we have those 10 things to do, we make it happen (or sometimes not - case in point, laundry in this house). After a while with more to accomplish in a day, you grow accustomed to it, and it becomes the new normal. Sort of like once you've had several children, you wonder what was so hard about parenting one. But parenting one child did seem to take up all the time in the day, yet people manage to add one, two, three, four, or more to their families. We fill the time we have.

Just some random musings today I guess.

"Because I said so!"

Have you ever found yourself, usually in a moment of frustration with your kids, echoing the words of your own parents? Whether it be "First name, middle name!" or "Because I said so!" or perhaps, "There are starving people in the world who would be happy to have that dinner!".... it probably makes you cringe, at least a little. Maybe a lot.

But sometimes they just give you good ideas.

When I was a kid, probably around 10 years old, my younger brother and I were with my dad (divorced parents, we lived with Dad on weekends). We tended to bicker quite a bit and at some point, my dad had had enough. He tape recorded us fighting and then made us listen to it. I still remember it, all these years later. It was so horrifying, to hear my awful little voice whining at my brother over absolutely nothing. I hated it so much, I remember begging him to turn it off. I'm sure it didn't stop us from fighting forever, but I bet the rest of our weekend was darn right peaceful.

Tonight my oldest son was gearing up for a little bedtime dramatics. He was completely fine until the second I was closing the door, when suddenly out of nowhere, he had a "weird feeling in his throat." Oh boy. We've been through this particular "situation" a couple of times in the last few months. Weird feeling in throat leads to overly dramatic freak out session wherein child believes he has either been poisoned, has some sort of inexplicable disorder in which he will not be able to continue breathing once he falls asleep, despite the fact that he has always been completely healthy, or some other equally ridiculous concoction. The poor kid has just the right personality/temperament/physiology combination for these kinds of bedtime hysterics (and I mean hysterics - the first time he pulled the "weird throat thing" it took forever to calm him down). He's a worrier by nature, and coupled with being rather bright and inquisitive along with extraordinarily sensitive to being even the least bit sleep deprived.. it's a recipe for nighttime meltdowns. (Not that this is typical behavior, really - but he tends to be the boy who cried "something is wrong with me!" so we're pretty well versed in his brand of drama.)

Tonight I tried to convince him that he was fine (since the other time he's had a "weird feeling in his throat" he's been completely fine physically), but he was headed down the too-upset-to-reason-with road on a fast track to meltdown-city. He followed me out when I attempted to just leave the room (to say I was highly frustrated would be an understatement), and despite my ordering him back to bed, he stood there half-crying and looking at me like I was supposed to wave a magic wand and make him feel better. That, or let him get up and hang out until he feels better. (Sorry buddy, ain't happenin').

Then it occurred to me - the camera. I quickly grabbed my little point and shoot, clicked it to "video" and before I could point it at him, he'd bolted, attempting to hide in his closet. I followed him in, recording, and by the time his brother had dug him out from behind a blanket, we were all laughing. I didn't wind up recording any whining or whimpering or random questions about whether something might be in his throat that will inexplicably grow during the night, rendering him unable to speak in the morning. But the very thought of me recording him in a state of upset was enough for him to decide to let it go and calm down. As I left the room for the second time, he gave me a little shrug and smile that said, "Yeah, I know."

Thinking back on my Dad's trick, all I have to say is - well played Dad, well played.

How we wound up a homeschooling family

After having a few conversations recently about our choice to homeschool, I have been thinking about the road that led to our decision. I've posted bits and pieces of our homeschooling journey here, and although I didn't start this blog with the intent of focusing on homeschooling (I wasn't doing it at the time), I decided to go ahead and write "that post" - the one that explains why on earth we're doing this and how we got here.

I never thought I'd be a homeschooler. I have said it before and I will probably still be saying it years from now. When my oldest son, David was little, I found him a sweet little preschool and he started there when he was 3. He went there for two years, and we signed up our next son to attend and registered David for kindergarten at our local public school. I definitely had reservations back then, but no serious inkling that homeschooling was an option.

Let me get this out of the way right off the bat: I am not anti-school. I am not anti-teacher. I have great respect for what they do and I know there are lots of great teachers out there. We need schools, public and private and we need good teachers.

But I did have doubts. Although kindergarten was fine for my son, and he had what I would consider a very good teacher, there was something nagging at me. He was such a curious, question-asking, passionate-about-learning kid. He loved school, except he kept asking why he had to spend all this time on things he already knew. He knew how to read fairly well, but he was still stuck reciting "A says a, ant on an apple, a, a, a," every day. He wanted to learn about science and animals, but the closest they got was a "sink and float" unit. Math was making patterns and sorting and bending wikki stix into number shapes. He liked being around other kids (he's the definition of an extrovert - if he is never alone again in his life, he'll be thrilled), his teacher adored him, he rarely got in trouble and he excelled at everything. Sounds great, right? But that spark, that excitement, that passion he had - I could see it starting to fade. He was losing his sense that school meant the joy of learning; it was beginning to mean "doing a bunch of stuff until I get to go home."

As the school year turned into summer, I pondered and worried. I wondered if private school would be better. They're supposed to be better, right? I thought maybe we could find a way to send him to Catholic school, although I knew we couldn't afford it and the location is anything but convenient. These swirls of doubt stirred in my mind and wouldn't go away. I tried to banish these thoughts, tell myself it was "good enough." I was involved in his education, after all. I was in his classroom regularly and we'd read books at home and do all the right things.

I did manage to do one thing right in the midst of my concern. Around the middle of his kindergarten year, I started to pray about it. I prayed that God would guide me to the right decision. At the time, I was certainly not thinking homeschool. But I prayed that God would help us understand the best course for our family with regards to our kids' education. I just wasn't expecting the answer.

It started with a blog post. I was poking around House Unseen, Life Unscripted, and I came across her post about secretly (or maybe it was not-so-secretly) wishing she could homeschool (she does now, by the way, and if I had more time and/or energy, I'd be super sweet and find that post, but I'm not, so oh well). I read her reasons for thinking about homeschooling, and I thought.. yeah. I get that. I feel it too.

Then homeschooling seemed to be everywhere around me. I have a close friend who homeschools and I poked around her blog. Someone posted a random article that linked to something else, that led me to read about homeschooling. I kept seeing things about homeschooling popping up here and there and it seemed like the idea just wouldn't leave me alone. At the time, I was firmly in the "I think homeschooling is great for other people, but certainly not for me," camp. I didn't think it was bad (although I did have some common misconceptions about the whole "socialization" thing), but I was quite sure I could never manage to do it.

Then it happened. I read another post by Dwija of House Unseen, and it was all about their final decision to homeschool (again, I'd link the post, but I am too lazy to find it right now). What I remember about it is the whole family went around and sort of voted, or chimed in - and they were all in favor. Then I seem to recall her describing a lot of hugging and excitement at the new direction their family was choosing.

And you know what? I was jealous.

I realized I was totally envious of this family that had decided to keep their kids home. Why on earth should I be envious? I had already told myself, and in a round about way told God, that homeschooling was not an option. I mean, it's nice and all, but there's no way. It would be so much work! I have three whole kids! How would I ever figure out what, or how, to teach them? When would I do it? When would I get other things done? How? Why? Wait! Nooooooooooooooo!

Then I got my head out of my, well, you know, and I started thinking straight. I did what I do best, and I researched the heck out of it. I bookmarked. I took notes. I made spreadsheets. I made lists. And a strange thing happened. The more I read, the more I researched, the more I looked - the more excited I got. It was like opening an plain, old, worn looking book; something I was almost too skeptical to give a chance. But as the book opened and the pages turned, I had to blink in surprise because the pages glowed with light. This whole new world was illuminated before me and the more I read, the more I loved what I was learning.

I did all this without a word to anyone, and only the tiniest whisper to God. If I said it aloud, I might actually, you know, do it. And that was way too scary. But first grade was rapidly approaching and I knew I had to figure out what I was going to do, and soon. I spent some time making yet another list - this one a simple list of pros and cons. When I finished, my list of pros was pretty long, and my list of cons was pretty short - and many of those had little question marks next to them. I wasn't too sure they would be cons at all.

At this point, I came clean to my husband. He was understandably surprised, but mostly wanted to know my reasoning. I told him all about what I'd learned, what my reasons were, and showed him my list. He was open to the idea, but a little leery of jumping in right away. School was just a couple of weeks away. He was worried I was getting ahead of myself and didn't want to make a big decision too quickly (which is funny, now that I think back on it because he is the spontaneous one and I'm always the one urging caution and taking my time.)

We went on a family vacation and although we certainly didn't spend the entire week mulling over the idea, it did give us some good opportunities for both reflection and conversation. I'd prayed about it intensely since I had broached the idea with my husband and felt more strongly about it with each passing day. Finally, after letting it sit for a couple of days, I told my husband I wanted to homeschool and I wanted to start that year. Like, immediately.

This is where his unshakable faith in me is so humbling. He agreed. He was still a little unsure, mostly because the decision felt rushed. He hadn't had the benefit of my previous months of research and pondering. But he agreed. He felt like I had a lot of good reasons, he saw the benefits and decided that if I felt it was the right thing and the right time, then he'd support me.

The final piece of the puzzle was our son. We had brought up the idea to him while on vacation. I asked him if he knew what homeschooling was. He said sure, he knew and mentioned our good friends who homeschool their daughter. Then I told him that we were thinking about whether that might be a good idea for us and asked him if he thought the idea might be ok. He said yes, he liked the idea a lot. At that point, we assured him we were still considering it and not to worry about it.

When we told him we had decided to homeschool, his reaction was priceless. He said, "Yesssss! I was hoping you'd choose homeschool."

Can't get much better than that. We started our homeschool adventure in September of 2011.

Here we are, a little over a year later, and none of us would change our decision. It hasn't always been easy, but I have always moved forward with the clear feeling that the Holy Spirit led us here. I sometimes wonder why, and sometimes wonder how I wound up one of, you know, "those" people. But this lifestyle works so well for our family, I am so grateful I listened to God's call, even when I wasn't sure. My children are thriving, learning, loving and we are enjoying this road God has set us on very much.

First week of school!

Today marks the end of our first week back to school! And we're all still here!

Overall, things have gone well more often than not. There were some wins and some rough spots and I hadn't counted on how tired the change in routine was going to make me. But we're getting back into the groove of having school work to do and I'm sure in a few weeks things will settle into a new normal - at least for a while.

In the win department, we did morning basket every day and that went well. Our morning basket is essentially a time when we all sit together and read. It's how I fit in things like poetry, literature, and even a little music and artist study (or at least, I will over the course of the year), as well as faith formation for my kindergartener. In the past, I've run into quite a bit of resistance from my Mr. Stinky-Pants five year old over sitting with us for morning basket. Miraculously, this year he hasn't complained a bit. He sits with us on the couch, and even helped pick out Bible stories and fairy tales to read. Today I got out our "Can You Hear It?", which is a book accompanied by a CD featuring classical music and gives prompts to listen for (such as, listening for the sound of the birds chirping in Vivaldi's "Spring" or the bee buzzing around in "Flight of the Bumblebee") and we flitted around the room both as birds to Vivaldi and as bumblebees. Those were some good moments.

As predicted, my five year old isn't as eager to jump into school, and therein lies most of my frustration this week. I am trying to find what works best for him - to sit and do several subjects in a row, thereby getting all his core work done; or to have him do one thing, take a break, come back and do another, and so forth. The problem with the first is he often doesn't have the attention span or willingness to sit through handwriting, read a BOB book, and then do a math activity. The downside to the second approach is that once I let him go from the table, it is very, very difficult to round him back up and refocus on schoolwork. This is one of those things that I'll have to work out as I go because he's really unpredictable and hard to pin down. It will take some trial and error (involving a lot of error and a bit of fist clenching on my part) to figure out what will work best for him. He can literally go from asking to do just one more letter in his handwriting book, eagerly practicing his "frog jump capitals," one minute, to slumping in his seat and grunting like a wounded baby animal at any mention of trying to lay out 7 tally sticks the next minute. I knew going into this he would be a challenge in more ways than one, but I'm hopeful that with consistent, but reasonable expectations, he'll come around a bit and I won't have to coax him into doing school work every single day.

My second grader is always eager for learning, but he'd really prefer to spend all his time googling animals and watching Discovery channel documentaries. Alas, I am not really an unschooler, so we do have to work on some other subjects in an organized way. This week we worked mostly on math and some language arts, and a really soft start to our history studies. Next week we'll jump into some science and really dig into history as well. At least, I think we will. I'm already struggling to keep everyone focused for just a couple of subjects. It might take a couple more weeks before we can dive in and go full speed ahead with everything.

We also started a preschool group with a few other families who have little learners. I don't really think my 3-year-old daughter needs a ton of academic stuff, but it will be good to have something fun that is focused on her. So often, she's the little tag along, but this group will be at her level. We had the first group this week and I felt woefully unprepared, but it still went well. We'll meet once or twice a month and do some songs, stories, games, crafts, that sort of thing. I'm excited about it and my boys were excited to have some friends over (older siblings of the 3-year-old set).

All in all, a good week. Now I'm going to go surprise my kids with some celebratory popcorn for dinner. Woo hoo!

Starting again. Letting go.

First day of school, round two, is slated for tomorrow morning. I say round two, because about a month ago I attempted to begin our school year and for a variety of reasons, but decided to wait and start in September.

So here we are again, once more on the eve of a new homeschooling year. For reals this time. I have all these great ideas, wonderful books, projects and supplies. And I know tomorrow won't go the way I planned.

It just won't. Tomorrow I will get everyone breakfast, we'll do our morning chores and I'll tell them we're starting our day with morning basket. My five year old will protest and not want to participate. My three year old will want to climb up onto my back as I sit at our table. The boys will argue over who goes first. My seven year old will only want to do art projects. My excitement over our new curricula, our new subjects and all the great things we are going to learn this year won't exactly be shared my the little people I'm supposed to be teaching. It probably won't be smooth, we probably won't get as much done as I would want and things won't go the way I envision.

That's OK.

I am learning that part of homeschooling is letting go. I have to let go of my lofty expectations; let go of the notion that they are as excited as I am for what I've planned. I have to let go of the idea that our days will always be smooth and full of beautiful moments of learning. We'll have those days; we'll have days when I gush about how great homeschooling is for us and how amazing my kids are. And then we'll have days where it feels like herding cats just to get the kids to go upstairs or come out from under their pile of Lego creations.

This year I need to remember to find balance; balance my expectations with reality, my plans with flexibility, my desire for order with what is doable with three little kids. I need to remember that we have many years of learning ahead of us and while we do take a fairly organized and somewhat structured approach to school, there are numerous opportunities for learning throughout our days, throughout the year, and we'll all benefit from that. I need to remember that one of the most important things I can do as a homeschooling mom is nurture my relationships with my children and their relationships with each other. I do want them to get a robust education. And they are still little; we have time.

So tomorrow we begin again; another year in this crazy adventure I find myself in, called homeschooling. I've said it before, and I'll say it again - this isn't the life I once imagined, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

If my boys planned their own curriculum

Today I had a fun conversation with my boys (they are 7 and 5) about what they are interested in learning in the upcoming school year. I asked them two questions - what do you want to learn about this year and what do you want to learn to do this year? They thought for a bit and came up with some fun ideas. A few were silly, some sweet and insightful, but I plan to find a way to incorporate as many as we can (legally... see Grayson's #7).


David, age 7

1. How to bake a cake
2. Learn about different types of metal
3. How engines work
4. How computers work
5. Do new dinosaur art projects that are life-like
6. How to build things with wood and real tools
7. How to be patient and read a whole chapter book
8. How to cook
9. How to sew
10. Photography - how to take nice pictures
11. How to play piano
12. Do parachute experiments (this was after he suggested "learn how to jump out of an airplane, which I had to say no to)
13. Learn about the human body
14. Learn how people make things sharp
15. Learn about moss on trees
16. Learn about all kinds of bugs
17. Learn about cats, especially why they have big ears and why our cat chews on grass
18. Learn how hair grows

Grayson, age 5

1. Art projects using paper towel rolls
2. How to build new lego sets (I think he was just hoping for new toys with this one)
3. How to get money and have a job
4. How to play basketball
5. How to put fossils together
6. How to make cupcakes
7. How to drive a car
8. How to build real toys with wood like a toy car
9. How to use a real camera
10. How leaves fall off of trees and all about trees
11. How pencils are made
12. How to write and read books
13. How to count to 100
14. How to make firewood and build a fire
15. Art project with clay bricks (he had some elaborate ideas with this one, so I think I'll just ask him what supplies he thinks he'll need and let him go to town - I wasn't sure where he was going with it, lol)

I'm so glad I asked for their input. I told them we won't be doing all those things the first day, but I'm going to make a solid effort to refer back to these lists and come up with activities for them. I may revisit this idea again during the school year and see if they have new ideas as well. Granted, we still have our basics to cover, but this just struck me as so sweet and I'm excited about the concept of getting them involved in planning their education, laying the groundwork for a more collaborative effort in the future.

Plans... and changing plans

Sometimes being a planner is a good thing. I like lists. I like research. I like calendars and planners and excel spreadsheets. Of course, being a planner doesn't mean my life is all organized and tidy. I'm actually kind of messy. But when it comes to information, dates, routines - I like to plan.

But sometimes the best laid plans have to be thrown out the window.

Last spring I penned out a rough schedule for our school year. I thought it sounded like a super nifty idea to start school early, in August. It would give us a whole extra month of leeway, I thought. We could take a week off in the fall, for any reason. We could slow down at any time, take day off without guilt or worry. We could start slow, with just a couple of subjects, to get into the flow of things.

Plus, all the cool kids are doing it, the year round school thing. If I had a nickel for every lovely homeschool blog that talked about year round schooling, well, I'd have enough for a diet coke or something. But seriously, I was beginning to feel like "most" homeschoolers do some form of year round, or at least a partially year round schedule.

The year round idea does have appeal. I like the idea of the kids not forgetting all they learned and having to spend weeks catching up. I like the idea that we'd be integrating our learning more fully into our life, so the line between "school" and "life" gets a little more blurry. I like the idea of shedding the traditional school schedule and embracing a schedule that works for our family.

But oh, what was that last one? A schedule that works for our family. Right.

The first week of August rolled around and we did a few days of school. It was ok. But the weather was glorious outside and it just didn't FEEL right. Not that I kept them in, slaving over workbooks all day, while all the other kids got to play outside to their heart's content. We just did a little work in the morning. But even that wasn't working that well. Everything felt... off.

I remembered my well thought-out plans. After all, it had sounded good last spring for a reason; probably a bunch of reasons. But the gap between how it sounded back in May and how it felt to live it in August was pretty large.

I held out for another week, trying to integrate some school time into our days. But it just wasn't working. We had other things going on, or our best friends' kids were outside playing by 9 a.m. and it felt crazy to keep them in to "do school".

So I admitted to myself that this probably wasn't going to work the way I thought. Now feels like summer and September feels like the time for school. Maybe we won't always run by the traditional school calendar, maybe we will, I don't know. I'll worry about next year when it comes around, but for now, we're bagging "formal" school time and just getting dirty outside. After all, we do live in the Pacific Northwest, and we're in the absolute best time of year weather-wise. Another month and a half, and it's going to cloud up and rain for about 9 months. We may as well embrace this lifestyle we've chosen and create a schedule that works for our family. For now that means the shiny new school books and projects I have planned will wait just a little longer; and that's ok by me.

Working together

In the past I've written about getting my kids involved in doing chores around the house. Thrilling topic, I know. But I'm having a bit of success at this and if for no other reason than to record my progress to refer to if (when?) I fall of the wagon on this, here's what's working for us at the moment.

Do chores in the morning.
I have a window of motivation that lasts through about lunchtime. Not that I do nothing all afternoon; far from it. But mornings are good for getting things done. Last year, mornings were all about school. I felt like I couldn't cram in anything else in the pre-lunch hours, but that meant I was trying to do housework in the afternoons and wound up procrastinating a lot. And forget getting the kids to do any of it. I often feel like I'm herding cats, and that doesn't just apply to those times I'm trying to round them up as we walk to the car and they want to go in three different directions. At home, there's a rhythm to the day that tends to break apart into a mess of free-play-don't-try-to-make-us-do-anything-according-to-your-schedule time in the afternoon. Trying to bring everyone back together to be productive, whether for schoolwork or chores, is difficult in the afternoon.

All that is a long way of saying, we're doing chores in the morning, even before we do school. They already are in the habit of helping me unload the dishwasher after breakfast. Now we've added one "job" to do each day, and we get it done after the kitchen is tidied up, before we start school.

Do chores together.
I can't claim credit for this idea. I read it somewhere, and I wish I could remember where. I think it was a blog post someone pinned on Pinterest. (See, further proof that Pinterest is most definitely not a waste of time). Instead of assigning chores for the kids to do while I do something else, we're focusing on one thing or area and working on it together. Monday is vacuum the downstairs day, so one of us runs the vacuum while the others pick things up and move chairs, that kind of thing. The boys fight over who gets to vacuum first. Tuesday is bathroom day, so we all squeeze into the upstairs bathroom; they wipe down the mirror, sink, counter, and floor while I clean the toilet. Working together makes a huge difference. They're actually excited to help me and they want to do a good job.

Be consistent.
We've only been trying out this new "system" for a couple of weeks, but I was amazed at how quickly they adapted. The biggest killer of this is honestly going to be me, not them. I need to make sure that I don't start foregoing our chore time because I don't really feel like cleaning the kitchen floor that day. I've had a couple of days when I was very tempted to tell them, "Nevermind, let's just go read!" But doing our one daily job doesn't take very long at all and once it's done, it's done and we all feel good for having accomplished something. Plus, I know myself. I'm lazy and if I get off track on something like this, I have a hard time pulling myself back up and starting again.

Forget perfection.
Ok, this one was super easy for me. My house is cleaner than it usually is because of them helping, even though they don't do as thorough of a job as an adult would. Things are getting cleaned on a much more regular basis, so I can easily overlook the fact that they missed a huge streak on the window or that only half the floor got mopped. I can let my daughter walk around with a spray bottle full of water and a rag, spraying and wiping anything and everything. It's fine. They're doing a good job and it doesn't have to be perfect.

I feel good about this new addition to our routine. And the crazy thing is, they do too. Not that they don't complain sometimes, my oldest especially. Actually, only the oldest has complained, now that I think about it. My five year old asks every morning what our job of the day is. I had to buy two more swiffer dusters because they were fighting over the one I had (using a plain old rag is so not as fun) and we're going through an awful lot of windex. Time to head back to Pinterest and look at all those natural cleaning posts I pinned and then they can go to town spraying everything with some combination of vinegar, water and, well, who knows... But I'll make my Pinterest time worthwhile once again!

Not raising helpless monkeys - hopefully

I have really good intentions when it comes to teaching my kids to help around the house. I want them to grow up to be self-sufficient humans whose future spouses won't curse my name for doing everything for them and never teaching them to take care of themselves. When I read blog posts or articles about why kids should help around the house, I totally agree with everything they say!

But I'm not very good at making it happen in my home.

The root of the problem is me. I'm lazy and rather adept at procrastination. These are not my best qualities and certainly something I need to work on, for the sake of my own sanity as well as the upbringing of my children and comfort of my family. But there it is. I'm not great at keeping the house cleaned, being organized and minimizing clutter. I have the best of intentions, but without some action, intentions aren't worth much.

I decided a while back that the best thing to do is start small. I instituted "morning chores" for my boys (they are now 5 and 7). I'm sure they are capable of doing more than this, and I'm equally sure I could find some supermama of 10 kids who has them all folding their own laundry at 3. Looking at it that way always made me feel overwhelmed and quit before I even started. So babysteps. They each have one "morning chore" - putting away silverware for my oldest, and putting away the "kid" cups and bowls for my younger son. They're expected to do this each morning and for the most part, we've actually done it. It even gets me in gear and the majority of the time I empty the rest of the dishwasher and put away the breakfast dishes, which gives me a nice jump start to the day.

My other goal was to make picking up toys a regular part of the nighttime routine. I've had less success there, and again, it is all ME. Granted, it is like pulling teeth to get my five year old to clean up toys. He will go from happily playing transformers to writhing on the floor because he's "just too tired" to do anything so strenuous as pick up a lego. It isn't always pleasant and like many things with that particular child, I know the payoff will be worth it in the long run, but the process is rather painful. Plus, I tend to look around and think, "Well, it isn't even that bad. We'll just leave it." But if we didn't "just leave it" and picked up the small messes every day, we'd never get to the terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad messes that make my boys groan as soon as I say, "We need to clean up!" The concept of picking up daily instead of waiting for it to really tick me off is something I clearly agree with in my head, and have an unreasonable amount of trouble implementing. Those darn good intentions again.

At this point, I feel like I need to add something more to the mix. I'm awfully tired of the caked toothpaste all over the bathroom and it occurred to me, I ought to make them responsible for cleaning it up. What a concept, right? I know, I'm a little slow. So my next order of business is to come up with a weekly chore list - items that could be done once a week and they could do one thing each day. One of them could be wiping down the bathroom sink and counter. Not so hard. I haven't come up with the entire list yet, but I'm sure I could come up with a few things the boys could do each week that would actually make a bit of a difference in the cleanliness level of our house - dusting, wiping down baseboards, cleaning the sliding glass door. Pretty much anything that involves a spray bottle is a huge hit with them, so as long as I remember to remind them to get their chores done, it should work fairly well. It's just that me-being-lazy thing that gets in the way and conspires to undermine my carefully laid plans.

As for my daughter, well, she's 2. Her time is coming. Just you wait, sister. By the time you're old enough to genuinely help, I'll have this stuff in the bag!

Reflections on our first homeschooling year

Today was our last "official" day of school for the year. Truthfully, this week was rather light on schoolwork. We'd finished most of the really school-y things in the previous couple of weeks and this week there wasn't much left that needed to be done. We finished the last science lesson (magnets!), played some math games, read each day and did a few other odds and ends.

Today actually felt a little anticlimactic. I'm not sure what I expected for a last day in a homeschool. It isn't as if they were saying goodbye for the summer to all their friends and hugging their teacher. Well, I did get plenty of hugs, but it certainly wasn't the same. We went out for pizza at lunchtime, with Daddy no less, so that was a treat. We made them little certificates for completing preschool and first grade; baby sister got a "Sweet Princess Award" so she wouldn't feel left out :). It was a nice day, but we didn't really end with a bang like I sort of hoped.

However, this year has been pretty amazing. We've had our ups and downs, but I'm happy to say far more ups. My son really enjoyed doing school at home and I don't think he has any desire to go back to regular school. My younger son is excited to be a kindergartener now and is already asking me to do "kindergarten work." That's a good sign, considering a few months ago he was insistent that he would not be homeschooling and must go to "real school" like his brother had for kindergarten.

I've spent a lot of time reading and researching and trying new things and I learned a lot about what works and what doesn't in our little school. I bumped up against our limit for the amount of work we can accomplish and I learned a lot about how my kids learn and interact and what sorts of things spark their interest and what things fall flat - and I wouldn't have always been able to predict the outcomes.

I had many days when I beamed with pride at an accomplishment, and many times when my heart felt full to bursting with joy at the sight of their enjoyment of learning. Just this week we explored a beach at low tide which sparked a flurry of art projects and drawings and a stack of books about tide pools, octopuses and other sea creatures from the library - and none of it but the field trip were on the lesson plan. I absolutely delight in their love of learning, and I am learning how to factor that into our experience so that school becomes life and life becomes school. We will still have our lesson time because I do feel there is value in that, but throughout this year the lines between what is school, what is learning, what is fun and what is play have blurred. And that is exactly what I was hoping for.

I still have worries over whether they will have enough chances to make friends, worries about what extracurricular activities are worth the time and energy and what to do with my middle son who has such a tough time with organized, group activities. I worry about little things, details. But already I am casting off the big worries about whether I should be doing this and is this the right decision for our family. I'm sure those doubts will creep up on me at various times, but overall this year of homeschooling has been a wonderful experience and I am beyond glad that we decided to give it a shot. My husband has said he thinks we will look back on this decision as one of the best things we've done as parents. I very much agree with him.

We'll be taking some time off, but still doing some casual learning - reading time, math games, trips to the library, art projects and various field trips are planned for summer. It will be nice to have a more relaxed pace and not have to worry about planning lessons and activities. My plan at this point is to start up again in August, giving us a lot of leeway and ability to take time off next year. We'll see how ready we all feel to jump back in at that point. I'm very much looking forward to next year and excited to see what God and life have in store for us on this journey.