{an acorn sprouting}
Homeschooling in Review
School is FINISHED. Actually, it’s been finished. Adam penciled in his final tests on April 24, nearly two weeks ago, and summer began with a whirl of activity and way cooler weather than should be associated with the end of school. It would be impossible for me to describe just how glad I am to be finished with school. Some days I still feel a little shell-shocked, shaking my head in awe that we actually accomplished mission nearly impossible. Would I choose to homeschool? Nev … oops, I said I’m not going to make any more never statements because too many of them have come to pass in the last year. And actually, yes, depending on the circumstance, I might choose it as the lesser of two evils. Say, for example, we lived in a tiny community with a teeny tiny private school and a seventeen year old teacher trying to take care of seven scattered grades and the kids had serious behavior issues. And I guess technically, I am currently choosing to homeschool. Although the other option is public school and that’s not happening in this community. Last September the boys and I were doing art out at the lake and two busses full of middle school kids were also there. One of the adults with the group was walking around in something not much bigger than a bikini top and too-short shorts and a group of kids fifteen feet away was discussing where they’d lost their virginity. If homeschooling is called being over-protective, I’m actually fine with being stereotyped.
Oddly, I’m almost looking forward to school next year now that I have a little bit of an idea of what to do the same and what to do differently. The first year must be the hardest, even if your child isn’t in first grade. It was a huge learning curve for all of us. The first few weeks I heard a lot about how the books at school were so much better and the way they did things at school were so much better and this wasn’t the right way to do this. Meanwhile, I was suddenly faced with giving up hours of my day, five days a week, and feeling completely depleted at the end of so many days, yet simultaneously feeling as though I hadn’t done a thing. Homeschooling takes parenting to a level of unprecedented intensity. It was completely up to me to teach not only the lessons but also to teach good work ethics (still working on it), self-motivation (epic fail), help to study for tests, co-ordinate all activities, study ahead for lessons, help with catch up work before, on, and after trips, and still be the mom. Perhaps what I like most about being finished is not even so much the more flexible, relaxed schedule (although that is heavenly), but the ability to just be mom. I am once again absolutely loving being with the boys instead of almost constantly feeling as though I want to run away for a break. Somewhere. Someway. Somehow.
Yesterday we biked fifteen miles on the Allegany Passage. We stopped to read the signs along the route which led to learning about the brush tunnel and a cave that housed skeletal parts of at least twenty-eight animals discovered when the railroad was built. Many of the animals are now extinct and they even found skeletal parts of a crocodile high in that mountain cave. Noah and the Flood, anyone? We saw an unusual red flower to look up later, but mostly, we let the rush of air liberate our minds and refresh our stale spirits. I listened to little boy talk, steered the conversation when needed, and watched Adam’s competitive drive surface when a boy just about his age passed us on the bike path. Today we read Charlottes Web and discussed what the word “spry” means. Liam learned how to fold laundry neatly and Adam had a little tutorial about which cycle on the washer to use when washing towels. I refereed when fights broke out and smiled when they grew consumed with a giggling fit. I love being a mom. I’m just not cut out to be a teacher. Adam, on the other hand, has decided he wants to homeschool even when we move back to Virginia.
To be honest, there are some pretty cool things that go along with homeschooling. I liked reviewing Math and racing Adam on flash cards. It was interesting reading stories about frontier life in America and making cotton balls with seeds one day and then discovering how hard it was to clean cotton by hand the next. I loved that Adam and Liam didn’t take thirty minutes a day adjusting to being together when Adam got home from school. It is true that I longed for a break more days than not, but not once did I miss having him gone eight hours a day nine months out of the year. While we stayed fairly structured, I loved that if we were on a trip and got home late, we could start school at 10:30 the next morning after sleeping in and unpacking all the suitcases. It was nice not to have to decide between pulling Adam out of school or listening to him miss out when fun things happened at camp like making apple butter over an open fire or the Woodsmanship Festival. Best of all, I liked having a lot more say about curriculum choices and having time to pursue extracurricular activities like piano and art.
Probably one of the biggest things that changed as education became almost solely my responsibility is that I began to view it more holistically. I’ve never been a teacher, so more than likely they’ve been doing this all along and I never realized it. Instead of only thinking about the subject matter that Adam needs to cover through twelfth grade, I’ve been praying more for direction to teach him in a way that makes it easier to do the work God calls him to as an adult. I want him to have a good grasp on all the fundamentals, but I also want him to be able to pursue areas where he is naturally more gifted. Not at all in a way that boxes him in or that steers him toward an end result, but in a way that allows him to capitalize on his strengths. So much of this happens naturally in our children, we just need to be aware of it so that adequate resources are available to them. I try to stay very quiet about this fact since Adam is pretty much convinced he could quit Math for life since he’s planning to either be a roofer or own a ranch. A little story lesson about buying a horse for $100, paying $25 / bag for 20 bags of feed, paying himself wages to live and whether or not re-selling the horse for $150 six months later would be a profit was all it took to convince him that at least a little more Math may be necessary.
Some of the things I consider downsides to homeschooling are things I can’t replicate. Things like healthy competition and the natural enthusiasm for school that comes from doing things with your friends. Group games are next to impossible with two kids and oral book reports don’t teach you as much about public speaking when you’re talking to your family. End of the year programs that require singing and reciting in front of a large audience, the feeling of independence fostered by the simple act of leaving home and being completely responsible for yourself every day …. but perhaps the biggest of all is not being taught by a plethora of teachers who each have unique abilities, talents, and love for different subjects that overlap gaps made by one another. I hear adults say, “I’ve always tried to keep my handwriting neat because my fourth-grade teacher drilled it into us,” or “My seventh grade teacher inspired me to love algebra as much as she did.” Here there is only me, myself, and I with my love of Science and Literature and who is going to stop us from having a school that rumbles and jumps like a washer carrying an unbalanced load? If you’re a home-schooling parent, I’d love to hear how you compensate.
Also, if you don’t use My Father’s World for History, I’d love to hear what you use! The children’s sections of the libraries close to me are not exactly stellar and it’s hard to fill gaps with great reading material. Because of that, I am looking for a complete History program, preferably with a full-color textbook. Any suggestions? Oh yes, and I’d love to hear how independent your third and fourth graders are with their work and how you motivate your children to stick with their work instead of messing around? I’ll happily store all the tips you can give me. Meanwhile, I’m going to shelve thoughts of school along with the textbooks and {live} this summer.
Weather
The Unsung Heroes
Cruising down I81 I watch the trees glide by my windows like so many train cars across the prairie. Sunlight streaks through the clouds in that late afternoon lazy way that Adam once told me means light is shining down from heaven. Snippets of David’s phone conversation with a once prospective cabinetry client who declined cabinets but likes the friendship filter through the memories of today that swirl around my head.
We’ve just come from three different in home meetings with parents of boys at camp. Their stories are all so different, yet so much the same. I listen, and my heart lurches with so much emotion.
There are so many reasons why a boy comes to camp. Sometimes he’s dealing with rejection issues from an adoption. Sometimes he’s out of control with anger issues and is no longer physically safe to be with his family. Sometimes he’s stealing and lying, vandalizing property, or running away from home. Sometimes he’s been sexually abused and sometimes he’s the abuser. Sometimes he’s had a physically or emotionally abusive parent.
Is it the boy’s fault he’s landed here? Not really, unless you count the fact that he chose to act out in inappropriate ways. But seriously, they’re just kids. They need to be shown a different way, not blamed. Is it the parent’s fault? Sometimes, but not always. In the case of abuse from a parent, then yes. Other times, maybe or maybe not. Different people respond differently to environmental stress. Just as we have certain genetic predispositions that may make us more susceptible to cancer or diabetes or schizophrenia, we are also genetically programmed differently in our behavioral responses. Sometimes, because of life situations, two kids from the same family end up at camp at the same time. More often than not it’s just one kid and the others are doing fine. I hear parents say, “He’s just always been different. The other kids have their issues now and then, but they’ve never been out of control like this ….” Why is that? Why does a kid not thrive when everyone else in the family is doing fine?
Sometimes there are a few things that need to be changed in a boy’s home. Sometimes the boys come from stellar families with no more stressors or issues than that always-have-it-together family you see at church on Sunday. And sometimes they come from utter chaos.
David visits parents in their homes to talk with them about what’s going on in their home environment and whether or not there are changes that could be made to help their son return successfully. He teaches parents how to write homevisit plans, keeps them updated on their son’s welfare and teaches them how to resolve conflicts. He helps to uncover the story of what happened before camp, interprets what’s happening now, and helps to prepare and plan for the future.
I love these parents. While they sometimes struggle with feeling like failures, I see their willingness to walk through this process with their kids as nothing short of amazing. If normal family life with its sacrificial giving 24/7 is a gentle, spring rain, some of these families have been through a tornado. These moms are at the end of their rope, but they are also often some of the most humble, honest, transparent women I’ve met. They are laying everything on the line to help their kids be successful.
I hear their stories and think I understand. Yet I know this is one of those vast disconnects where I can empathize and encourage and support, but I have no idea what it really feels like.
These moms have lived with out of control chaos and sometimes with fear for the lives of their children. They’re exhausted beyond anything I’ve experienced because they’ve given everything they’ve got for years and nothing is working.
I sometimes struggle with leaving our boys with a babysitter for one day. These moms drove their child to camp and essentially put him in someone else’s care for a year and a half or longer. It takes the story before to understand why a mom knows it’s the best decision to make for her child. It only takes a mom who loves her child to understand the gut-wrenching agony involved in making that decision.
These moms have walked through emotions you and I can’t relate to and that sometimes leave them feeling somewhat isolated. They may feel relief after dropping off their son just knowing that he’s safe and the other kids are safe and that finally after all these years, someone is offering to help them. And in the same instant, they may feel guilty for feeling relieved when they’ve just dropped off their son for another six weeks. They may feel torn between fear and excitement when he comes home for a visit. They know what it is like to invest every resource they have … not so that their son can graduate summa cum laude, but so that he can make life choices that lead him toward success instead of into prison.
Parenting isn’t about never making mistakes. Parenting is about taking hold of the present to shape the future.
These moms who sometimes feel like broken failures? These moms are some of my heroes.
A year of firsts
A baby’s first year is always touted as being the year exploding with new things and it’s true. But who knew that being four could include so many first experiences? Liam, I guess. In the past year he’s racked up quite a list of impressive firsts, beginning with learning to ride bike just weeks after his fourth birthday. A few weeks later he switched to a smaller bike and ditched the training wheels.
In July it was learning how to swim. Four strokes and he’s out of breath, but definitely swimming. And jumping off rocks and acting like a submarine.
With August came a few loosely structured preschool activities. Learning to write letters and numbers, playing more games of Memory, and learning how to count to twenty without skipping sixteen. Writing letters is easier than counting without skipping.
There was the first time to see the Nutcracker and going Christmas caroling on a tractor-pulled-wagon during a meteor shower.
The first gluten / dairy / egg / soy free cookie tray with choices that looked just as delectable as the one everyone else was oohing over.
There was guitar strumming and more guitar strumming and wishing that your birthday guitar sounded like the big people’s guitars.
There was the first fireman suit and not caring at all that it was three sizes too small and came from Goodwill because it still worked perfectly …
… even to make cookies.
There was a first work trip with Daddy that required a backpack full of entertainment and a favorite blanket.
The first time at the ice rink and first time on ice skates.
And super crazy independence with getting dressed if it meant you got to wear the clothes you wanted to wear. Including a shirt you’ve long outgrown and a belt. Always a belt.
The first game of pick up sticks played with your teddy bear because everyone else was doing school.
And learning how to roller blade in the kitchen while pretending to ice skate play hockey. It took less than an hour for you to learn how to cruise across the kitchen.
A few days later, the weather turned frigid for days and your roller blades gave way to ice skates. This time the skates cooperated all by themselves.
First woodsmanship festival.
First key plunking
First time to bat a ball independently.
First time shaving with the “lil man kit” Grammie got for you and Adam to share.
First trip to the zoo and the sticky sweetness of cotton candy.
First art class
Learning so many new things can be exhausting …
… but it’s what makes the world seem like such a wonderful exciting place. You never know just what adventure might come next.
Light
So thrilled to have a day of SUNSHINE!
Before & After
I’ve been meaning to post before and after pictures of the house we live in at camp. Most of the hold up has been waiting on a sunny day because we all know pictures look a thousand times better with lots of light. Rooms look larger and cleaner and happier, too. Sunny days are rare in winter in western Maryland and sunny days that jibe with house cleaned up days are worth a gold mine. Yesterday we finished up with school in record time and the boys helped put things away before we headed out to the library so I hurried through the house and snapped a few photos. Here is your little virtual tour …. although visiting in person would be at least thirteen times better because then we could have a cup of coffee or a glass of tea. First, in case you don’t remember, here is what the house looked like when camp acquired it. It should be pretty self-explanatory.
The day after the contract was signed, we headed to the house and started hauling stuff out. A few guys showed up to help carry out the furniture and at the end of the day we’d taken down all the window treatments and hardware and patched lots and lots and lots of little holes in the drywall. David started putting up trim in all the places that just never got finished. The perfectionist finish carpenter in him went into hibernation otherwise I suspect some of the rooms would have gotten re-worked. You know, the man who trims corners so tightly they almost don’t need caulk staring at the half inch gap between where the baseboard ends and the door frame begins … that kind of thing.
You learn something new every time you do a house project and my learning curve this time was deciding on the correct shade of grey. Seriously. Twenty years from now I bet they’ll send you home with an app that shines colors on the entire wall so you can see what it would really look like instead of guessing from a two inch color sample. I was a little horrified at how blue it looked when I first painted it, but now that I’ve lived with it a few months, I don’t think about it as much. I think the blue grey carpet makes the walls look more blue than they really are. Hey, at least it’s not green-grey or lavenderish-grey.
And now, here’s a little virtual tour of the house with as far as we’ve gotten. We haven’t done a thing to the kitchen except a friend and I yanked the one cabinet out and shoved it to the other side of the frig to make it at least a little more efficient. I love how the cabinets look from a distance. I love that they are white and I like the simplistic lines. It looks even dreamier on pictures with all the gorgeous light coming through the windows. But, it is seriously inefficient. Think Lowes plastic (whatever that stuff is they use instead of wood) with shelves inside that aren’t as wide as they should be and at least one replaced with a six inch wide piece of plywood. Some of the cabinets aren’t even attached to the wall and most of the countertop could just be picked up off the cabinets. Maybe that’s why they aren’t level? I learned quickly to never lay an egg on the counter because it will roll off and go crashing onto the floor!
There are a couple of things though that are absolute God-sends. The closet in the dining room acts like my pantry and helps to compensate for the deception of the cabinet’s capabilities. There is another large closet right inside the front doors that is stashed full of table boards, the vacuum, extra folding chairs, shoes, muddy boots and coats. I look at that closet sometimes and want to whisper words of endearment for whoever put it there. The windows!!! Seriously, for being one of those small, typical ranch houses, this house has an amazing amount of natural light. If you have heard me talk about the grip SAD gets on me every winter, you’ll understand why this is such a big deal. I don’t even want to think about what it would be like if we were still in the basement apartment.
Our bedroom is pretty tight and both bathrooms are super tiny, but it has space in the rooms we most need it. The boys’ room is graciously large and easily houses their toys. Which is good since I have no idea where else we’d put them. The dining room is too little to have a table full of guests (I miss entertaining like that), but the living room is big enough to set up homeschooling stuff on one end of it and we have hosted 16-17 people somewhat regularly. So far they’ve all been gracious about crowding around in the living room with their plates of food and lack of personal space and we’ve had lots of fun anyway. I’ll know it’s time to get worried when they start boycotting invitations. 🙂 The one thing I really still wish to unpack is our books. Maybe someday Ikea will come up with a way to suspend bookshelves from the ceiling that can be raised and lowered. Oh, and the wall above the sofa is still bare because I can’t decide what to hang on it. I’m all ears for suggestions. Help a girl out, pretty please?
And that’s about it. If you’re ever close by, stop in and say hi or better yet, stay for dinner!
Happy Spring
My friend, Vonnie, posted this quote on her facebook page today and it was the first thing that made me smile about our very windy forty-four degree weather with it’s forecast of snow {again} tonight.
“The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month.” Henry Van Dyke
Some years you have to resort to buying spring at Walmart.
Happy first day of spring everyone!
Boys and their Toys
…….. One day there was a boy who made matches for himself out of kindling. He took them upstairs and collected a candle, a bowl of water, a lighter, a piece of paper, and “safety gloves.” With great concentration he lit the match, blew out the fire, and dipped it into a bowl of water. He lit it again, blew it out, and used the charred end to write on the paper just like you would with a pencil and he was very pleased with himself. His little brother watched each step with great fascination and a good deal of admiration. He asked if he could have a turn, too. So, the boy handed him a match, helped him light it, and coached him through the steps as needed. The younger brother was very pleased with himself. Meanwhile, their mother watched without saying a word and she was very surprised at herself …………….
Remembering February
Morbid title aside, we had so much fun in February. I am completely delighted that the calendar says March and equally horrified at the continuing freezing temperatures and predictions for snow storms. HELLO, SPRING??????? Anybody home????????????????? Seriously. Get out of hibernation, please.
Winter flew this year. Maybe it was because I was so crazy busy with school and camp activities. Maybe it’s because I’m older {rolls eyes} and the proverbial time flying phenomenon has come to pass. Maybe it was because camp’s schedule is always broken up into six week sections and so I never looked at the entire winter at once. Whatever it was, the speeding has stopped and I am completely done. Done with winter, with cold, with coats. Done with the smell of wood smoke and the near-constant grey skies. Done with drab landscapes and early nighttime. Done. Just DONE. I’ve given up on spring coming. Somehow it’s a thousand times worse to see March and feel cold simultaneously.
But like I said, February was a fun month.
February was Valentines Day mostly celebrated with little people. Parties at our house are all-boy and it was so much fun to decorate with pink for a change. Considering the fact that they demanded BB gun ketchup art instead of smiley faces on their hamburgers today, the phrase, “the boys loved Valentines Day,” should be duly noted.
They happily gobbled down heart shaped pancakes with chocolate chips and strawberries and maple syrup and a dollop of whipped cream.
In a rare moment of loveliness, David managed to come home for lunch after being on the road for nearly fifteen hours the day prior. Oh the perks of working close to home.
We nibbled on nachos and drank iced tea. Smiled at the pink cupcakes with real strawberries in and on them. But my favorite moment was teaching the boys about chocolate fondue thanks to a darling little fondue pot my mom gave me a few years ago. Their eyes sparkled and their strawberries shoveled up melted chocolate like bull dozers. Their mouths bulged with berries and cupcakes and the place in my heart that felt so bereft on Valentines Day two years ago, as I headed toward the hospital for a D&C, filled with a sense of healing. Life is not what we dream, but life is so rich and full because God is so good. We don’t always get to celebrate special days and events the way we’d like to; but when we do, celebrating feels like the best gift in the world.
I told the boys they had to take a little rest in the afternoon since David and I were headed out for a dinner date and bedtime was going to be late. They snuggled into the covers with a bit of resistance and in an effort to get them to think calm, happy thoughts instead of only battle-the-idea-of-naps thoughts I asked, “What is your favorite thing of all the special things today?” Hands down, I knew it would be the chocolate fondue. But nope, Liam said it for both of them. “Going to a babysitters tonight!”
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My friend, Anita, and I spent three happy days together, hopping from topic to topic even faster than we restaurant hopped which is saying a lot considering the fact that we hit Starbucks, McAlisters Deli, Sweet Frog and Panera Bread in less than thirty-six hours. Don’t judge. We haven’t seen each other except via skype for four years and I had to introduce her to all my favorites. I moved to Virginia when I was twelve and Anita was sixteen. She was everything I wanted to be … pretty, sparkly, fluent with words, and full of laughter. She made friends easily and quickly became not only my friend, but also my mentor. I remember the first time I had the nerve to ask her to critique an English assignment. The rest, as they say, is history. Her dad hired me to work at their family owned candy shop one day a week so that someone would know the ropes should they ever want to go on vacation. I couldn’t believe they were paying me to eat chocolate and hang out with Anita. I probably should have been paying them. When I was seventeen, it was Anita who was moving. Her family relocated to Ireland as missionaries …. permanently.
I was devastated. For years, we wrote letters to each other every week. Not just quick little notes, but four big sheets of paper filled on both sides kind of letters. Eventually, we switched to email and then when I was in college, our conversations nearly disappeared. Now we rely on intermittent emails, skype, and the truth that our friendship endures even during periods of silence. Anita is currently in Poland teaching English. Even in the globally connected world we live in today, Poland is far away.
But Anita knows me and I know her. Before she came, a mutual friend we’ve met in the last five years asked Anita, “How are you and Michelle friends? You’re not at all alike.” It’s true. Kind of. And it made me pause. Have you ever wondered what makes some friendships work and other relationships never really take off past the chit chat stage? We’re not really alike. On Monday, as we drove the three hours back to my place from where she’d been staying with family, we stopped to shop. Out of all the stores we shopped, we found ONE thing we both liked. I touched a purse and she said, “That’s a nice purse,” and we both kind of did a double take. “Can you believe we actually liked the same thing?” Nope. I love pink and ruffles and the scent of jasmine. She loves emerald green and big scarves and straight iced coffee. But when it comes to the bigger stuff, we’re both alike. We both hold strong opinions and are fully capable of verbalizing them. Rather than making us butt heads most of the time, it affords us a measure of safety with each other. We are rarely left assuming what the other is thinking. We both like to create … me occasionally, she often. We both like to write and can talk about book sales and the vulnerability of writing honestly knowing the other person completely understands. We’ve walked through dreams come true and dreams deferred and, while our dreams aren’t synonomous, the celebration or grief associated is. We both love chocolate although she’s much quicker to sniff out the stale versions. We both live life passionately and long to live it well, not just putting in so much time. How are we friends? How could we not be friends? After all, anyone who has seen my seventeen year old self and the eight page letters of immaturity generated during that time had better stay a friend. 😉
So we shopped.
And ate.
And the next day at our house we played with fabric and trim to cover cheap journals we’d picked up the day before.
We brainstormed briefly about book covers and got distracted.
Anita taught the boys about zentangles and I declared three days of spring break in school so not even a minute would be lost.
We stayed up late.
Drank coffee and ate chocolate.
And then it was time. Time to drive the three hours back to the airport and say goodbye. Except I never do well at saying goodbyes because I hate them.
I drove home thinking about friendship and how different our lives are. About her jetting off to Poland and me driving back to the middle of nowhere. About marriage and being single. About doing the things God asks of us and believing that He empowers every situation in our lives. About the way it sometimes seems that God arranges circumstances in our lives and work for us to do more for the work it does within us than the work we accomplish outside of us. I miss her. But I’d a thousand times rather miss my friends than to have never known them at all. God is so good to have created us for community and communication.
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February was also the month of our long-awaited and much-anticipated visit from Dennis and Ali and their girls. We loved having them here and Liam especially was just ecstatic because Sky was coming! Most of the time we see Adam’s friends or hang out with kids who are closer to his age. Well, Sky is only a few months older than Liam but I didn’t think much of it because when we go to church he always hangs out with Kadi or Ava. But that Saturday morning he was dancing around the living room singing, “Sky is coming! Sky is coming.” And then he looked at me in all seriousness and said, “I can’t wait til Sky comes. I will even let her play princess.” Let me tell you, this is a flat out honor. Nearly every time we leave church Liam gives us a rundown tinged with disgust and superiority. “Ava just always wants to play princess and she wants me to be the prince and I don’t want to play princess.” Which is really funny because I rarely see them playing princess.
Sky came and shocked his little heart with her tomboyish little self. They spent hours hunting in the field or in the house when it grew dark. Sunday morning we were getting ready to head to chapel instead of church because Dennis was going to talk to the boys. Liam, who normally is beside himself with excitement at getting to go to chapel, groaned loudly. “Can’t someone just stay here with me and Sky so we can keep playing?”
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Happy March, everyone! Cheers to ignoring the forecast that predicts eight to twelve inches of snow by tomorrow night and dreams of robins digging for earthworms in the backyard.