Poetry Friday: Our *Last* First Day of School

Although Ramona started French class as an early-enrollment student at the college a couple of weeks ago, I have always waited to "officially" start our homeschool after Labor Day and this year is no different.

Well, one thing is different.

Today is the last first-day-of-school for Ramona and me. My last first-day-of-homeschooling forever. She's a senior this year. (Whaaaat?) We have thoughts and plans and aspirations for this year, of course. And we'll tackle them fiercely, knowing all the while that we have no idea what this year actually holds.

Have we ever known what a year holds, before that year takes hold of us? Not really. Life has an annoying funhouse quality, with unexpected twists and surprises around heretofore unseen and unconsidered corners. I love the way this poem by Henrietta Cordelia Ray captures the breathless, naive, but utterly lovable optimism of being human while acknowledging the as-yet unknown shadows and gloom that will inevitably color and shape every life. And yet we soldier on and continue to "climb the slopes of life with throbbing heart."

Here's to a school year propelled by an eager pulse, rich song, and eyes wide-stretched. We cannot repine, Henrietta. No, we cannot repine.

Aspiration
Henrietta Cordelia Ray

We climb the slopes of life with throbbing heart,
And eager pulse, like children toward a star.
Sweet siren music cometh from afar,
To lure us on meanwhile. Responsive start
The nightingales to richer song than Art
Can ever teach. No passing shadows mar
Awhile the dewy skies; no inner jar
Of conflict bids us with our quest to part.
We see adown the distance, rainbow-arched,
What melting aisles of liquid light and bloom!
We hasten, tremulous, with lips all parched,
And eyes wide-stretched, nor dream of coming gloom.
Enough that something held almost divine
Within us ever stirs. Can we repine?

~~~~~~~~~~

Sylvia Vardell has the round-up this week at Poetry for Children.

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(Photo courtesy of Barbara A. Lane at Pixabay.) 

Nine Worries About Unschoolish Ways That I Needn't Have Worried About

I wrote this five years ago, when Anne-with-an-e was in college, and Betsy was on the brink of graduating high school. Now? Anne-with-an-e adores her job as a librarian, Betsy is student teaching (and interviewing for elementary school jobs), and I have one year of homeschooling left (really?!) with Ramona.

I've revisited these questions, worries, and concerns over the last year or two, and I can still say this:

Stop worrying. Keep loving your kids and giving them the best of you. All that love, concern, work, and effort you pour out for them will not be for naught.

~~~~~~~~~~

Now that I have a daughter in college and a high school senior who has taken early enrollment/college credit classes (both girls did), I've seen some of the fruits of our relaxed homeschooling. I look back and recall the worries I had over the years, the ways in which I questioned myself, and wondered if what I was doing would work out.

So, here are some of the questions I used to panic wonder about, and the answers I've observed:

1. Will they ever learn how to adhere to an outside schedule if I don't impose a rigid schedule on them while they're growing up? 

Yes, they will. They learn this: you do what you need to do when you need to do it. Doing it sooner than you have to doesn't teach you to do it any more efficiently. Having a rigid schedule as a child doesn't necessarily translate into efficiency in adulthood, and sometimes it translates into burnout.

2. Will they ever learn how to get up early and get out the door to a class/a job, if I let them sleep in through all their school years? 

Yes, they will. They learn that it is not "years of getting up early" that teaches you how to get up early. It is "an alarm clock" that teaches you how to get up early. Whenever you have to get up early, all you need do is set an alarm clock. No training necessary.

3. Will they ever learn how to read/learn from textbooks if I use real and living books for their home education? 

Yes. They will sometimes find them boring (and I have sometimes used textbooks in our homeschool, so — Hey! Good for them? — they've already been exposed to the boredom) but they will know how to read, comprehend, and use these schoolish tools. They may not like them as much as the vibrant books they mainly grew up with, but they will be fully capable of using them.

On the other hand, they will sometimes love their textbooks. Anne-with-an-e loved her World Geography and Microbiology classes/textbooks and was thrilled to be hired as a tutor in both subjects.

4. If I allow them to pursue their own interests in their formative years, will they ever learn the self-discipline necessary to succeed in college classes? Will they know how to meet deadlines and finish assignments? 

Yes, because they have been taught and they understand basic concepts such as time management, goal setting, and doing what is necessary to achieve the desired result. These concepts can be taught in myriad ways as our children grow up and such concepts are easily applied to college classes. Trust your kids to use their brains.

5. Will they learn how to take a test? 

Yes. (See #1 ... i.e., "they will do what they need to do when they need to do it.") Also? It doesn't take that much practice to learn how to take a test. And you will learn that ACT scores and college grades show exactly what you always suspected: they excel precisely where you thought they'd excel, and they are weak precisely where you thought they were weak. Your suspicions (that you know your children very well) will prove to be true.

6. Will they know how to act in a classroom? 

Yes. They will understand the difference between sprawling on the couch at home and sitting at a desk in school. My daughters have never confused the two locations.

(I also taught them how to eat in public, sneeze in public, and find public restrooms. Problems solved.)

7. Will they learn how to tackle unpleasant assignments? 

Oh, yes. Family life is excellent preparation for general ed classes.

8. Will they resent me for hiding the truth from them -- that learning can sometimes be dull? 

No. They are thankful for years of a lively education, for all those days that we ate popcorn for lunch, read Little Women and Little House, Harry Potter, and The Secret Garden together, discussed The Hunger Games at two in the morning, learned about history, science, and literature from life and marvelous books and experiments in the kitchen and discussions over dinner and museums and walks at the lake. They will look up from a history paper they are writing, and sigh, and say, "I'm so grateful to Samantha. I learned a lot about the progressive era from her."

Also? Without even trying — believe me — you will give your kids lots of opportunities to be bored by things they have to learn. (Math, cleaning the house, scooping up the dog poop in the backyard.) You've got this.

9. Will I ruin them? 

We all run that risk, whether our kids are in school, out of school, homeschooled with curriculum, or homeschooled without it.

But my guess — if you love your kids more than your own life, which I'm betting you do —  is that the answer to that question is, "No. A thousand times no."

What Our Writing Group Is Doing These Days

Way back when Anne-with-an-e was a sophomore in high school and Betsy was in 8th grade, we started a weekly writing group with two of the girls' friends.

The rules we established and stuck to for our no-pressure group:

1. The girls could bring anything they wanted: a story, a novel in progress, an essay written for a school assignment, a book review...anything. It could be a first draft or something they'd polished.

2. After each reading, the first reaction from listeners must be positive and encouraging: what they liked about the piece, a description, an intriguing character or plot development they admired. Then we could move on to other constructive criticism, ask questions, or share ideas.

3. When we finished the discussion, the girls headed off for lunch while I re-read the papers and offered ideas via my trusty red pen.

4. The last rule: Don't Be Afraid of the Red Pen. I assured the girls the red pen was their friend.

The most important thing for young writers to understand is that rough drafts are called rough for a reason. I don't want my suggestions and corrections to discourage them, so I stressed that edits don't mean, "Wow, you're a bad writer! Look at all the marks I had to make!" I wanted them to understand that the better the writing, the more they would see my red pen (because as their writing improved they were giving me more to work with.) If I taught them only one thing about writing, I wanted it to be that the real work of writing is in the revision. I told them I became a real writer the day I realized a great editor was my friend and biggest asset.

Our writing group became the highlight of our week. The girls shared silly stories, serious stuff, novels (completed and abandoned), essays, history reports, and stories composed entirely of inside jokes. Some weeks we dug around for a writing prompt and the girls all wrote stories for the following week based on that prompt. Sometimes we went out for hot chocolate, because all writers need to hit the coffee house now and then.

These days, our little writing group is made up of Ramona, another 14 year old, and a twelve year old. The basic rules are the same, and hopefully the kindliness of the red pen is still understood. We've also added a couple of things to our weekly itinerary.

After the girls share the stories they've brought, we do a freewrite. I usually use Julie Bogart's prompts from her Friday Freewrite.

When I first introduced freewriting to Ramona's group, they wrote for only two minutes. Completely unintimidating, and they were excited to do it. I told them that the only rule about what they wrote was that they had to keep writing until the timer went off. (Julie thoroughly explains the process of a freewrite here.) Kids love having permission to write stuff like, "I can't think of anything to write...I am blank...Ramona is laughing while she's writing...I am hungry." After a few freewrites, we extended the time to 6-10 minutes, depending on the prompt.

Last week, I pulled a random prompt from a different site instead of using one of Julie's. The prompt was, "The happiest moment of my life." I always do the freewrite along with the girls, and when we finished, I told them, "I don't know about you, but this was the most boring freewrite I've ever done. The last thing I wrote before the timer went off was, 'This is so stupid.'" The girls thought that was hilarious and it prompted good discussion about writing in general, zeroing in on concrete details, and trying to write about broad, bland topics.

The girls' favorite freewrite from last semester was this one from Brave Writer:

I slowly opened my eyes.  Moonlight streaked across my blanket. I turned over and hoped to drift back to sleep. But…what was that sound? Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Was it coming from under my bed?! I…

We came up with such fun stories. Mine was about finding a trap door under the bed, and descending the stairs to ... I don't know where yet, but now I want to write that story.

The other new thing we added this year was at the girls' suggestion. One of Ramona's friends suggested the girls write and bring a haiku every week. I thought rather than having one more thing to bring to the group, it might be fun to write the haiku while we were together. So now we each write a haiku that pulls together details from each of the stories the girls brought that week.

~~~~~

Final writing group note:

Last week, one of the girls brought a story about zebras. Then we all wondered what a herd of zebras is called, so, we looked it up.

A dazzle of zebras.

Made my day.

But then, writing group always makes my day.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

I like ice in my coffee in July, not on my road in January. But on the road is where the ice is today. School and work were canceled for everyone, but Atticus isn't exactly enjoying his day off. He was hit with a stomach bug last night.

Bleh.

And it's only been six days since I last complained that it's not spring yet.

Six days closer to spring? Yeah, we'll go with that.

~~~~~

I recently read The Highly Sensitive Person, by Elaine Aron. As Anne Bogel pointed out, the only (and ironic) problem with this book is that some of the case studies mentioned will bother a highly sensitive person. Still, worth the read if you can get through the stories of abuse and are interested in finding out more about yourself, HSPs in general, or your HSP child. 

After reading that, I couldn't decide what I was in the mood to read. I wandered around the house, perused bookshelves, started at least three different books (I'm in the mood for World War II drama! No, wait, I'm not at all. I may never be again. Tiny, Beautiful Things? No. Wait. More abuse. What else? A good bio? No! I don't know! What do I want to read? What do I need to read?) 

Suddenly, I spotted Anne's House of Dreams. 

Bingo. When you need a palate cleanser, run to Prince Edward Island. 

~~~~~

Last week, when I told Ramona that our break was over and it was time to face the resumption of math, all she could summon in response was a Hamilton quote: "I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory." 

(Not sure what I'll do with myself someday when my daughters aren't around to keep me laughing.) 

Bits and Pieces of Our Days: What We've Been Reading

Ramona and I just finished The Curious World of Calpurnia Tate, Jacqueline Kelly's delightful* sequel to The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate. We did it together as a read-aloud and were both sad to reach the end of our time with the Tate clan. And who needs a science curriculum with books such as these? Love them.

* ETA: Just fyi: It does tackle some serious themes, too, so some of you might want to preview it and/or be ready to discuss those. 

~~~~~

While we're on the subject of science, though, we're working our way through Fruitless Fall together. If you've never fallen hard for honeybees, you need to pick up this book. 

~~~~~

Betsy is doing some reading aloud with Ramona, too. Last night they finished The Son of Neptune, from Rick Riordan's Heroes of Olympus series. 

~~~~~

Her own stuff: Ramona recently finished Andrew Clements' Things Not Seen, which she said was "fun, and interesting, and there was more to it" than she thought there would be. She recommends it. 

Then she moved on to Tanita Davis's A La Carte, which she desperately loved. It left her with a book hangover, drifting and unsure of what she wanted to pick up next. She just wanted more time with Lainey. 

She eventually moved on, though, and is currently reading The Importance of Being Earnest. 

~~~~~

Last month I read The One-in-a-Million Boy, by Monica Wood, and it was lovely and sad and uplifting. Recommend, recommend, recommend. 

I just finished Connie Willis's newest book, Crosstalk. It's basically a romantic comedy, lightweight fun. I think the story could have been told in a shorter book, but I still enjoyed it. I've been told I need to read To Say Nothing of the Dog, so that's on the TBR list for lightweight Willis. I think Doomsday Book (not lightweight) is still my favorite of hers. 

Right now? I'm rereading Madeleine L'Engle's A Circle of Quiet. I adore her Crosswicks journals. 

~~~~~

Final book note: 

Did you know that yesterday was, as my friend Beth at Endless Books calls it, the Literary Day of Days? November 29th is the birthday of Madeleine L'Engle, Louisa May Alcott, and C.S. Lewis. 

Why did I not have this day highlighted on my calendar? Why are there not banners and fireworks? I assure you, next year the Literary Day of Days will be celebrated to the fullest extent allowed by law and bloggery. 

For this year, I will simply rerun this picture of a note I received from Madeleine L'Engle many years ago. (The story behind it is here.) Happy Belated Literary Day of Days! 

Why I Don't Read Much About Homeschooling Anymore

Ramona, when she was three. 

(I originally posted this three years ago):

I have a confession: I don't read much about homeschooling anymore.

Not because there aren't a million inspirational, wise, funny, interesting homeschoolers out there (there are, and you should definitely read them.) And not because there aren't terrific books, and stories, and ideas. They're all over the place.

And it's not because I've got everything figured out. I don't. I have my own blind spots, failures, regrets, worries, selfishness, and pride.

It's just that, well, I've got it figured out.

Not IT. Not "Life in all of its glorious meaning and the perfect way to live, breathe, and homeschool, parent, and exist on a day to day basis without stress or strife, pride, or judgement."

No, no, no. No one has that figured out, people.

The "it" I have figured out is my style. My strengths and weaknesses. My husband's style. My daughters -- their styles, strengths, and weaknesses. We took that stuff and ran with it, knowing the years would go quickly, there would be gaps, standards may have to be lowered, a la Dave Barry, that it will not be perfect, and there would be times I'd think I couldn't do it.

The "it" I know is this: one of the reasons we started homeschooling was to treat our kids as individuals, and individuals don't fit neatly into pre-cut boxes labeled "homeschooler." They will not uniformly love math, grow up to be astronauts, priests, or nuns, get certain scores on ACT tests, or live their faith and their lives so perfectly that they will be mistaken for the Blessed Mother. Not all homeschoolers will love reading, play sports, or even enjoy the company of other homeschoolers (because that depends on what kind of individual that other homeschooler is, right?)

My kids are just individuals. They're just people. Sometimes they're as weird and different and out of the mainstream as their dad and I are; sometimes they flow with the mainstream quite nicely. Sometimes they are helpful and giving beyond belief, sometimes they are selfish. Some days they're blissful and feel blessed, some days they are sad and feel put-upon.

Hey...they're just like me. They fit neatly into the box called "Fallen Human."

And homeschooling is just one way to educate fallen humans. It's a way we love, to be sure. It's a way that I think can work beautifully, despite its challenges, for a lot of people. But I also know it's not for everyone.

It is, however, a way of life that has allowed Atticus and me to stay focused on our main goal in life: relationship.

Our relationship with each other.
Relationship with our kids.
Relationship with God.

To sum it up, I guess the only thing I have figured out is that I love this busy, weird, individual life we're living, and I know that there's not a singly perfect way to live it. I long ago let go of caring what our homeschool looks like to the world. We know it's working out (in that fallen, messy way), and that's what counts the most to us.

Thanks, Atticus, Anne-with-an-e, Betsy Ray, and Ramona, for caring as much about our relationships as I do.

And now? I'm tired, so I'm going to have another cup of coffee. Because I have a huge blind spot when it comes to whether or not I've had too much caffeine.

Shopping My Bookshelves

Time to start thinking about what my year with Ramona will look like. Time to start shopping my own bookshelves. Hmmm...where to begin? Some initial thoughts....

There will definitely be art. 

Claire Walker Leslie's Keeping a Nature Journal is full of sketching inspiration. Pulling that one off the shelf for sure. I think I'd like to pull Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain out, too. 

~~~~~

This is one of my favorite shelves in the house. Ramona has read most of these, but I think Jane of Lantern Hill is going on the reading list for her. A read-aloud, I think. We haven't yet read the second Calpurnia Tate book! Must remedy! 

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Some Shakespeare this year, of course. Romeo and Juliet?

~~~~~

Is there any Louisa May that Ramona hasn't read yet? Maybe Rose in Bloom. Thinking I'll wait on Cather's My Antonia for a year or two, for fuller appreciation. 

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She's reading Emma with her big sister, so I'm leaving the Austen to them. I think we'll read Dickens this year, though - A Tale of Two Cities. 

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I see some Ray Bradbury here, but where is my copy of Dandelion Wine? I guess I need to check another shelf. That's definitely another read-aloud. Also adding Fruitless Fall to her list, and some of Silent Spring. 

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I see some good stuff here by Mike Aquilina and Peter Kreeft. (Is there any other kind of stuff from those two?) 

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Alan Schreck's Catholic and Christian is like a mini-catechism, and I love it. Will choose some selections for Ramona to read. 

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Oooh, I need to look more closely at some of the goodness on these shelves. 

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Clive Staples! This is Ramona's year for The Screwtape Letters. 

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Here's a small section of our poetry collection. Poetry Friday, anyone? Maybe I'll have Ramona do some of the picks this year. 

~~~~~

Ah, homeschooling books. 

This shelf is for me, when I need a boost.  

~~~~~

Why I'm Adding Little Men to My List of Favorite Homeschooling Books

Although I've loved Little Women for as long as I can remember, I somehow (scandalous!) never got around to reading Little Men and Jo's Boys. I just finished Little Men today and now I have to add all of the following to my quote book:

Two large rooms on the right were evidently schoolrooms, for desks, maps, blackboards, and books were scattered about. An open fire burned on the hearth, and several indolent lads lay on their backs before it, discussing a new cricket-ground, with such animation that their boots waved in the air. A tall youth was practising on the flute in one corner, quite undisturbed by the racket all about him. Two or three others were jumping over the desks, pausing, now and then, to get their breath and laugh at the droll sketches of a little wag who was caricaturing the whole household on a blackboard.

In the room on the left a long supper-table was seen, set forth with great pitchers of new milk, piles of brown and white bread, and perfect stacks of the shiny gingerbread so dear to boyish souls. A flavor of toast was in the air, also suggestions of baked apples, very tantalizing to one hungry little nose and stomach.

The hall, however, presented the most inviting prospect of all, for a brisk game of tag was going on in the upper entry. One landing was devoted to marbles, the other to checkers, while the stairs were occupied by a boy reading, a girl singing a lullaby to her doll, two puppies, a kitten, and a constant succession of small boys sliding down the banisters, to the great detriment of their clothes and danger to their limbs.

~~~

Boys at other schools probably learned more from books, but less of that better wisdom which makes good men. Latin, Greek, and mathematics were all very well, but in Professor Bhaer's opinion, self knowledge, self-help, and self-control were more important, and he tried to teach them carefully. People shook their heads sometimes at his ideas, even while they owned that the boys improved wonderfully in manners and morals. But then, as Mrs. Jo said to Nat, "it was an odd school."

~~~

The class stopped in the middle of 7 times 9, and everyone looked up to see what was going on.
Thinking that a lesson in learning to help one another was better than arithmetic just then, Mr. Bhaer told them about Nat, making such an interesting and touching little story out of it that the good-hearted lads all promised to lend him a hand, and felt quite honored to be called upon to impart their stores of wisdom to the chap who fiddled so capitally. This appeal established the right feeling among them, and Nat had few hindrances to struggle against, for every one was glad to give him a "boost" up the ladder of learning.

~~~

Till he was stronger, much study was not good for him, however, and Mrs. Jo found various amusements in the house for him while others were at their books. But his garden was his best medicine, and he worked away like a beaver, preparing his little farm, sowing his beans, watching eagerly to see them grow, and rejoicing over each green leaf and slender stock that shot up and flourished in the warm spring weather. Never was a garden more faithfully hoed. 

~~~

"Let him be a mechanic if he likes," said Mr. Bhaer. "Give a boy a trade, and he is independent. Work is wholesome, and whatever talent these lads possess, be it for poetry or ploughing, it shall be cultivated and made useful to them if possible."

~~~

"How much the lad knows of these things [the natural world]! How absorbed he is in them! And what a mercy it is just now, for he cares so little for books, it would be hard to amuse him while he is laid up; but the boys can supply him with beetles and stones to any extent, and I am glad to find out this taste of his. It is a good one, and may perhaps prove the making of him. If he should turn out a great naturalist, and Nat a musician, I should have cause to be proud of this year's work," and Mrs. Jo sat smiling over her book as she built castles in the air. 

~~~

"Now, boys, I have arranged it so that you can all go," said Mrs. Bhaer, running back again, much relieved, for she loved to make them happy, and always felt miserable when she had disturbed the serenity of her little sons; for she believed that the small hopes and plans and pleasures of children should be tenderly respected by grown-up people, and never rudely thwarted or ridiculed.

~~~

After the last excitement, peace descended upon Plumfield and reigned unbroken for several weeks....

"It is too good to last," said Mrs. Jo; for years of boy-culture had taught her that such lulls were usually followed by outbreaks of some sort, and when less wise women would have thought that the boys had become confirmed saints, she prepared herself for a sudden eruption of the domestic volcano.

~~~

...the boys were charmed with Dan's pleasure, and crowded round him to shake hands and expatiate on the beauties of their gift. In the midst of this pleasant chatter, Dan's eye went to Mrs. Jo, who stood outside the group enjoying the scene with all her heart.

"No, I had nothing to do with it. The boys got it up all themselves," she said, answering the grateful look that seemed to thank her for that happy moment. Dan smiled, and said, in a tone that only she could understand, "It's you all the same."

...He thanked them both with the silent, hearty squeeze he gave the kind hands that had held him up, and led him into the safe refuge of a happy home.

~~~

P.S. Discussing the book on my Facebook page. There are spoilers in the comments, as we're talking about the good, the bad, and the ugly in this book. There were a couple of weird, random things that I didn't like. 

In Which I Confuse Homeschooling and Wine

The delightful, lovely, and very kind Ana Hahn, from Time Flies When You're Having Babies, is doing a blog series -- "How Do They Do It?" -- about homeschooling. When Ana asked if I'd like to participate, I jumped at the chance to talk about one of my favorite things: wine.

No, wait.

I meant to say homeschooling. (Although I do mention wine in Answer #5.)

You can find my Q & A with Ana here.

Thanks, Ana, for running this series, and for such great questions!

And be sure to check out some of her other installments here, here, and here.

FLOURISHing During a Busy Week

It's been a crazy week. I've been out of town a couple of times because we're working on helping my parents find a place to live that is much closer to our family than they've been, well, ever. We're hoping that by next spring or summer, they will settle on a place and be within a two hour drive of us,rather than a two-day road trip. Hurray!

So, it's been a good week, a productive week, but a slow week on the blogging front. So I thought I'd share some alternative reading with you:

Here's the latest issue of Sarah MacKenzie's Flourish.

It's an online magazine/newsletter, and if you're not reading it, you're missing out on some robust encouragement, companionship, ideas, and fun. And this month, I had the fun of contributing an answer to the monthly question: "What does teaching from rest look like in your homeschool?"

Enjoy!

First Week of School

Photo thanks to FreeImages

Yes, we're back at it.

Many moons ago, we decided that the two non-negotiables of the first day of school were Mass and breakfast out. (To my daughters' chagrin, I've always added the somewhat negotiable, "And a little bit of math.")

It used to be so easy to schedule these things. The day after Labor Day = First Day of School. But schedules are more complicated these days. Anne and Betsy wanted to join us for our first day ritual, but their morning schedules made it trickier. Anyway, for a variety of reasons involving Mass schedules, college schedules, yada, yada, we went to Mass on Tuesday evening. Not perfect scheduling, because Anne couldn't join us, but on the plus side, the new priest at our parish made a point of stopping to ask what he can do to support the miscarriage ministry I help with, so that was lovely. On Wednesday morning, all four of us went out to breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, and loads of coffee, tea, or hot chocolate, depending on which Edmisten you are.

On the way home, we cranked up the volume in the car and belted out "Let It Go." Then I had to let go of my college girls so they could go have their lives. Ramona and I dove into some math, read some books, and talked about plans and ideas for the school year.

~~~~~

In other news, I am on the final Harry Potter book with Ramona!

from Facebook:

Sept. 6th: The down side of being the youngest in this family/late to the Harry Potter party: Ramona didn't get the fun of midnight movies, book release parties, winning costume contests, and staying up till the wee hours to rip into the latest release. The upside? One book and movie after another. We finished Half-Blood Prince last night, watched the movie today, and then started reading Deathly Hallows. Anne, Betsy, and I are already talking about creating a final feast for Ramona that will include chocolate frogs, pumpkin pasties, chicken wings or legs (for Ron-style/two-fisted eating), butter beer, and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans.


Sept. 7th: Reading HP & the Deathly Hallows to Ramona today ... my throat hurts from my Mad-Eye Moody voice.

And from Instagram ... Ramona made Luna Lovegood's Spectre Specs.

I will be extremely sad when we finish Deathly Hallows (and not just because of all the deaths I'm going to have to read about aloud...wish me luck.) It will be the end of an era at our house. However, the great relief for all of us will be no longer having to say, "Don't talk about that in front of Ramona! Spoilers!"* 

*Last night, Atticus took Ramona along with him when he had to help run a concession stand at his school. When he introduced her to the students they would be working with, he said, "This is my daughter. She's currently reading the last Harry Potter book, so if anyone talks about Harry Potter, NO SPOILERS."

I love that man. 

Ramona's Summer Art

Lots of good stuff going on, but one thing I want to share is the live Mark Kistler 3-D drawing class that she's taking. The classes are available for free this summer, through the Homeschool Buyers Co-op.*

She's been available for only two intermediate lessons so far and she wants to try the advanced level next time, if we're home at the right time.

Mark Kistler's virtual classroom is here,  and the schedule of classes is here. On this page, you can find Kistler's top 400 recorded lessons that can be used anytime. 

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In other drawing news, Ramona is sorting Disney princesses into Hogwarts houses. So far, Ariel is a Gryffindor and Belle is a Ravenclaw. 

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* Several other free offerings from the co-op can be found here. 

Speaking in Omaha next month at the CHAO Conference!

Along with Suzie Andres and her husband, Tony, I'll be speaking in Omaha in July at "Filled With Joy," a homeschooling conference sponsored by the Catholic Homeschool Association of Omaha (CHAO).

Suzie is the author of Homeschooling With Gentleness and author/editor of A Little Way of Homeschooling: Thirteen Families Discover Catholic Unschooling (to which I contributed a chapter in the "-ish" section. As in, "unschoolish" ... I'm the Planning Unschooler, the Unschoolish One With a Plan...i.e., I don't fit into categories or labels, and I like it that wayish.)

Friday night, July 10, will be "Homeschool Show and Tell" and a used book sale -- more details are here.

On Saturday, July 11, talks will include:

From me:
"A Homeschooling Mom's Prayer Life: It Can Happen"
"A Read-Aloud Legacy: Reading Aloud for All Ages"

from the Andres:

"Increase Your Joy Right Where You Are," Suzie
"Homeschooling Dads," Tony
"Homeschooling With Gentleness," Suzie and Tony

The CHAO conference website is here, along with registration information. The full schedule for the day is here.

I hope I can meet you there!

~~~~~

A quick aside: 

Did you know that if you do a search for a free stock photo of "Omaha, Nebraska" on FreeImages.com, the only results are two photos? One is of the Desert Dome at the Henry Doorly Zoo and the other is of a desert deer: 

This leads me to remind you that even if you can't make it to the CHAO conference, you should make it to the Henry Doorly Zoo sometime in your life. Seriously. It is one of the best zoos ever. An unschooler's dream day.

Tasting Cheeses or Seeking Jesus? (And Other Bits and Pieces of Our Days)

This morning, Ramona told me about a dream she'd been having as I woke her up.

Ramona: "You and I were tasting cheeses for a party -- "

Me: "We were seeking Jesus? For a party?"

Ramona: "No! Tasting cheeses!"

Me: "Oh. Well, okay. I didn't think mine made sense. I mean, He's always there anyway, so you don't really have to seek Him out for a party, but --"

Ramona: "Tasting cheeses." (Shakes head, moves on...)

~~~~~

Random Instances of Instagram:

Ramona said to Betsy, "Your toast looks like the 10 Commandments." 

Anne added, "It's the Toast Commandments." 

Ramona and I were at Hobby Lobby and saw this. 

Someone had written on chalkboard: "Help, my wife won't leave."

Happiness ... Working on a Van Gogh art project with Ramona & Betsy (Betsy's experimenting on us for her Art for Elementary Teachers class) while listening to the Wicked soundtrack.

Ramona's Easter nails. 

~~~~~

Recent Ramona: "If you kissed a stuffed frog, would it turn into a Ken doll?"

~~~~~

Recent field trip: 

Went to a dairy farm. 

Saw a calf born. 

("It's a boy!")

I may live in Nebraska, 

but I've never 

watched a cow 

labor and give birth. 

As my friend said 

that day, 

"I think we can check 

'biology' 

off the list 

for the whole year." 

Covering Subjects in a Non-Traditional Way (Part the Third): Percy Jackson Read Aloud

Part 1 is here.
Part 2 is here.

When I talk about teaching subjects in non-traditional ways, what I mean is that most of our curriculum is talking.

A recent example is the read-aloud Ramona and I just finished, Rick Riordan's The Lightning Thief. 

Topics discussed (if you haven't read the book, skip this post to avoid spoilers!)

• Greek mythology, obviously, and we'll delve further into this 
• ADHD
• Dyslexia
• Talents that don't translate to a classroom setting
• Greek currency
• Dreams and their meaning
• St. Louis arch
• Sisyphean tasks
• Why Riordan chose Los Angeles as the entrance to the Underworld (side discussion: Stephen King/Las Vegas as headquarters for the demonic Walking Man)
• Ethical situations/choices: Percy's mom, Sally (staying in an abusive relationship in order to protect Percy?!), Sally's decision to use a weapon (of sorts) on her husband, Gabe
• Comparisons: afterlife/Underworld vs. our beliefs in heaven, hell, purgatory
• Vocabulary: I point out new words, show Ramona the visual on spelling, etc., stop to define a word, if necessary 

That's a quick summary of the practical application. All of the above can be categorized under various subjects, from history and social studies, to literature and language arts, to faith. Reading aloud -- and talking, talking, talking! -- teaches so much. And inspires great jokes:

Near the end of the book (again, avert your eyes if you haven't read it and don't want spoilers!), Percy has to make an end-of-summer decision. Should he stay at Camp Half Blood all year and continue learning to fight monsters? Or should he go back to New York City for 7th grade?

Ramona's response: "Maybe 7th grade is the monster."

More fodder for discussion!

Covering Subjects in a Non-Traditional Way: Part the Second

Image Chef

The original question was:

"Where can one find examples of how common, daily activities with kids fit into 'subjects'?"

So, let's start with the activities, rather than starting with the subjects, and we'll start with very young children, because we all have to start somewhere.

A few everyday activities and their relevance to education (and life):

Breakfast (home ec, nutrition, health)
Reading to the kids over breakfast (reading, reading comprehension, faith [if you read Bible stories or other faith related books], history [if you read historical works], English [hey, it's a book!], vocabulary)
Morning routine (personal hygiene = health ... threats about what will happen if we don't wash and brush teeth = science)
Morning chores (citizenship, faith and self-discipline as those relate to family cooperation)
Daily Mass (faith, history, recess if you go for donuts afterward)
Make cookies (math while measuring, home ec, science, kitchen chemistry)
Make lunch (home ec again ... lots of home ec)
Break up a fight among siblings (explaining interpersonal communications = psychology ... repentance and forgiveness = faith ... learning to get along = management and human resources skills)
Trip to the post office (social studies, community study, citizenship, how government works, art ... yes, art! Aren't you going to examine all those stamp designs?)
Drive home (point stuff out -- geography of your town)
Watch an episode of Magic School Bus (science)
Take a nap (health)
Wake up from nap (science: explain the necessity and importance of sleep, explain the difference between night mommies owls and insane morning people.)
Take a walk (a nature walk! Science! Charlotte Mason is so happy with you right now!)
Tell children to play while you check email (play is serious business, people!)
Check email some more or call your best friend (hey, your sanity is important ... explain to children that social contact is vital. This is psychology and sociology.)
Start dinner (home ec! Again! Lots of home ec!)

You get the the idea. This is the easy stuff. When they're little, you really don't have to worry about record-keeping the subjects but do it if it makes you feel better, as it often made me feel better, or if you need to report on your schooling in your state. And do it for practice, for later days.

And as they get older, the connections, the overlap of subjects, the science of relations becomes clearer in so much of what we do with our children, and in what they do on their own.

More to come.

Homeschooling: Covering "Subjects" in a Non-Traditional Way

In a Facebook group for homeschoolers, the question arose: "Where can one find examples of how common, daily activities with kids fit into 'subjects'?"

I want to put together a post that goes into a lot more detail, but in the meantime, I was reminded of this old post from years ago:

From today's Charlotte Mason excerpt, found at AmyAble's new blog, A Full Life: The Works of Charlotte Mason

"One thesis, which is, perhaps, new, that Education is the Science of Relations, appears to me to solve the question of curricula, as showing that the object of education is to put a child in living touch as much as may be of the life of Nature and of thought. Add to this one or two keys to self knowledge, and the educated youth goes forth with some idea of self management, with some pursuits, and many vital interests."

One of the first things that attracted me to Charlotte Mason's ideas was this "Science of Relations" business. It matched up so perfectly with my (admittedly limited at the time) observations about how my own child learned. Anne was constantly making connections about things in her world, in our world.

Reading a book about ducks would lead to talking about baby ducks, which would lead to talking about baby people, which in turn led to playing with our own baby person, her little sister, and that led to counting said person's fingers and toes. Amidst satisfied giggles from baby-person-Betsy, Anne would ask about how God made babies, and how did God make dirt, for that matter? And did God have sisters? And speaking of dirt, could we go outside and play in some?

I could have said, "Now, now, hold your horses. One thing at a time. We can either talk about science (ducks and human reproduction), or math (counting those scrumptious little toes), or about theology, or we can go do P.E., but we can't jumble it all up like that. One subject at a time, please."

No, no, no. Anne didn't break the world into "subjects" ... that would have been absurd. All the "subjects" are connected. So, why should I attempt to divide the whole world into subjects? Learning seemed to happen more quickly, more completely, and in a more integrated way when I allowed the Science of Relations to influence our "studies."

One might argue that it's all well and good for a toddler to follow connections in an If You Give a Mouse a Cookie sort of way, (and, of course, one of the reasons I love Laura Numeroff's books is that she understands how children's minds work) but continuing to do so as they get older will just lead to ADD. Hmmm. Maybe. But, my personal experience has been that following connections and looking for the ways in which the "subjects" are interconnected has paved the way for a greater appreciation for what a real education is. For example, when we read about Archimedes were we covering history or math or science?

The kids, ahem, didn't really care which category it fell into.

I remember the first time another child asked my kids what their favorite subject was. Anne and Betsy were about 8 and 6 years old, and they looked at the child as if she were a Klingon. "What do you mean?" they asked.

I explained the whole school-and-subjects thing. I told them that since they loved books of historical fiction, they could honestly say that two of their favorite subjects were "reading" and "history." Or, because they loved to draw and paint, they could say "art." Or, because they loved to swim and ride horses, they could say, "P.E." But, really, I assured them it isn't important to break it all down into subjects. It can be helpful, especially where the Dewey decimal system is concerned (and that led to another discussion) but it wasn't necessary.

So. That's my take on today's bite-sized chunk of Charlotte Mason.

Be a rebel. Don't do subjects.

More to come soon.

~~~~~

Part 2 is here.

Homeschooling Just One

That's what I'm doing this year for the first time ever.

Yeah, sure, in a way I had just one "student" when we first started homeschooling. Anne-with-an-e was seven years old, Betsy just four. Anne was (I'm sorry, sweetie) my experimental student. I tried out different methods on her, tinkered with ideas, approaches, math curricula.  But Betsy was always there, soaking in the atmosphere, listening to the books, playing with the manipulatives, eating the cookies. I never felt that I was homeschooling only one daughter -- we were living a homeschooling life together.

But, now that my older daughters are out in the world, taking classes from other people, I am finally, truly, homeschooling just one child. Anne and Betsy don't need me, which is really great in its way. There's real fulfillment in knowing that my daughters were well prepared for the stage of life they're living now. And, there's relief in knowing that their academic work is their business. (I couldn't answer a Chemistry question if you paid me in chocolate and coffee. Truly, Anne's Chemistry homework is a mystery to me on a par with the Trinity. Intricacies unseen, combinations that produce whole new entities ... it boggles my mind. If it isn't explained on a Jesse Pinkman level, I don't understand it.)

And that leads me to the present, in which I am homeschooling only one daughter. Over the summer, I wondered about how this year would proceed: What would it be like for the two of us to be on our own? Would we get bored with each other? Would we feel as if we were rattling around the house, waiting for others to join us? Or would we dig in, full of anticipation and excitement, ready to tackle hundreds of projects and take on every academic challenge?

The answer is (as it always seems to for me) in the middle. Yes, we miss Anne and Betsy, but Ramona and I have settled into The New Normal and we are loving it. There's a delightful balance to our days. There are outside activities (a weekly art class, another monthly art class, piano lessons, choir), as well as group activities that we both participate in (her writing group, swimming weekly with other homeschoolers.) And then there are the treasured days when we don't have to leave the house -- we tackle math, read aloud, read aloud, read aloud, write, read poetry, participate in NaNoWriMo, watch Food Network together, make carrot cake, learn about extracting DNA from saliva (hmmm, was it deliberate that I followed up the food references to the saliva reference?), create art, and crafts, and minions.

Sometimes we can even plan activities or outings that work with Anne and Betsy's schedules as we did last Friday when we made a last-minute plan to see Big Hero 6 together (review from Ramona coming soon), or getting to daily Mass together.

Yes, I'm homeschooling just one. But it's a rich, full life.

And we love it.

Ramona, at the end of summer. 

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

Whither has October fled?  It's gone missing and I'm left wondering if one of my favorite months met all her obligations before she took off for a year's sabbatical.

At least one obligation was clearly fulfilled -- October brought us, as it has for twenty-one marvel-filled years now, the birthday of Anne-with-an-e.

I'd never before bought a daughter a margarita for her birthday, but I can no longer make that claim. And she likes my favorite red wine, too. Yes, I am a good homeschooler indeed. I know how to teach all the important stuff.

~~~~~

Ramona and I are still on World War II. So far we've read The Winged Watchman by Hilda van Stockum, Lois Lowry's Number the Stars, The Little Riders by Margaretha Shemin, and Ian Serraillier's Escape from Warsaw (which I wish still bore its original title, The Silver Sword.)

We read Snow Treasure, which I usually include it in the WWII bundle of books, last year because it was a book club pick. I'll leave it up to her whether or not she wants to reread it this year.

I also have a stack of picture books -- we've read Always Remember Me: How One Family Survived World War II, and in the next week will pick up The Bracelet, So Far from the Sea, and
The Yellow Star: The Legend of King Christian X of Denmark. 

Lots of good geography stuff happening as we read these books, too.

~~~~~

What am I reading these days? The epic and wonderful Kristin Lavransdatter. Granted, I am only one book into the trilogy (I almost typed "three-book trilogy" ... more coffee, anyone?) but I have already dubbed it Wonderful and More.

What am I watching on the laptop these days, while I work out? Gilmore Girls. It is wonderful in a different way, and strangely connected to Kristin.

I Forgot My Cardinal Rule of Homeschooling (Or, The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow)

(photo credit: FreeImages)

Last week, Ramona and I had a Bad Math Day.

Ah, math ups and downs.

It was just one of those days. Her mood plus + my mood + math did not equal relaxed homeschooling.

Those days will happen, I know that. I don't expect a perpetual state of soma-induced happiness simply because I have dubbed our homeschool a relaxed, unschoolish one. We still have goals and deadlines. We're human beings not homeschooling machines, and no matter how many years I've been at this, or how many kids I've graduated (only two, so I'm no expert), we're still learning. We still break down and are in need of repair some days.

So, math was particularly challenging for her that day and in a different mood that would have been fine. But the combination of the challenging math/mood/gloomy weather had us both out of sorts. Crabby.

On a different day, I would have set math aside for awhile (or even for the day.)

On a different day, she would have risen to the challenge despite how hard it felt.

On a different day, under a different combination of circumstances, we would have been on a mountaintop instead of slogging through a mucky valley.

But this wasn't a different day. It was her bad day, and my dogged determination to make her do something that she wasn't up to that day. When I finally realized that my pushing was making it worse, not better, I pulled back. We took a break. She went and got some rest. A hot shower. A new start to the day.

We were both better for it. I left math alone for a day or two. This week, she has flown through the math lessons. This week has been a great one.

I know there are nay-sayers to an approach like mine: "How will they ever learn to do what's hard if they aren't pushed when things are a challenge?"

That's a valid question. I can say this: I homeschooled my older girls in the same way -- taking into account their humanity and mine, our collective needs, the reality that we all have bad days. And so far I haven't ruined them.

I think, too, that this is actually an authentic, adult, real-world way of dealing with certain problems. Obviously, there are things in life that can't be set aside. I don't ignore that, or teach my children to ignore it and through those things, we proceed. Essentials. But who among us hasn't said, "I need a good night's sleep and I'll tackle this tomorrow," when what's at issue is a non-essential (such as the timing of a single math lesson)?

Regarding my older girls, who are now subject to outside deadlines, classroom rules, and externally imposed requirements, I have seen them take on the real world (if we can even call college the real world) with commitment and responsibility, so I'm concluding that my methods did not teach them to set aside every little thing that is asked of them on a bad day, even if they feel like pulling the covers over their heads and going back to sleep. They get the difference between what they feel like doing and what they truly need to do.

I think my relaxed homeschooling approach taught them that freedom and flexibility are marvelous things to grow up with, and that there's plenty of time later in life to deal with the world's essential schedules and requirements. (See #1 through #9 in this post.)

Ah, math.

Math is not our favorite thing around here and because it doesn't come as easily to any of us, it's the one area I tend to really worry about. But I have found, time and again, that the more I worry and push, the uglier the whole thing becomes. When I stick with tried-and-true methods and remember that there's a reason I love relaxed homeschooling, that I can make certain allowances and learning still happens and thrives, we're all better off. Kind of a natural soma, if you will.

O, Brave New Homeschool that has such methods in it!*

~~~~~

*I'm mixing allusions and metaphors. Sorry. It's my way. I consider cohesion in a blog post to be a non-essential.