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.) 

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.

And Then There's Math

I watched this TED talk awhile back, and then a friend of mine recently reminded me of it and I watched it again. I love this guy because he sums up my philosophy about how to approach math in our homeschool.

End of the School Year: The Exit Interview

No, it's not the kind of exit interview that means I'm leaving the job. It's more accurately an "end of year survey" but I couldn't resist basing it on real questions that might be used in an exit interview in the workplace. With that in mind, let's take a look at how this school year went:


What is your primary reason for leaving this school year?

Duh! It's May.

Did anything trigger your decision to end the school year?

Duh! It's May. I'm tired.

What was most satisfying about your job this year?

Read alouds with Ramona are always right up there at the top of the list.

Watching Ramona's artistic talents and interests grow this year. Big perk, lots of fun.

Seeing my second daughter finish high school at home (and in the community, and in church, and in classes at the college -- because homeschooling, despite some popular misconceptions, is never just about home), seeing her make decisions about her future, receive scholarships, make plans...hugely gratifying.

It is immensely satisfying to not only love my daughters, but to also like them so much, and admire their choices.

What was least satisfying about your job?

There was math involved.

Did your job duties turn out to be as you expected?

Having previously gotten a daughter through high school at home, I knew I could handle Betsy's senior year, however, every child is different, and the homeschool must be tailored to the student. But, Betsy's final year of homeschooling went swimmingly, mostly thanks to Betsy being an awesome person.

Did you receive enough training to do your job effectively?

My past duties in life taught me that I can overcome any obstacle. Converting from atheism to mere Christianity to Catholicism? That was hard. Deciding to become a parent? I never envisioned "mother" on my resume, so that was a challenge, too, yet here I am. Handling pregnancy, labor, and delivery? Umm, yeah, with that training alone, I was prepped for anything. Homeschooling was guaranteed to be, if not a snap, at least something with a learning curve that I could face.

Did you receive adequate support to do your job?

Did you say "Atticus support"?

Oh, yes! Loads of it. Especially his weekend cooking and his chocolate cakes. These things make my job so much easier.

Did you receive sufficient feedback about your performance between merit reviews?

Merit reviews? I'm a mom. What planet do you live on?

Were you satisfied with this company's merit review process?

See snark, above. "This company" (i.e., the world at large) could stand to beef up its appraisal of the stay-at-home mom thing.

Did this company help you to fulfill your career goals?

Goals this year included:

Read great books. Check.
Spend time with my daughters. Check.
Prioritize Atticus and our family time over just about everything else. Check.
Spend time on math, even though we all hate it. Check.
Write a novel at the same time Betsy does. Check.
Lead a writing group for Betsy and friends. Check.
Meet with other homeschooling moms for support. Check.
Read more great books. Check.

Do you have any tips to help us find your replacement?

I have her lined up already! "Teacher" has left the building (i.e., math books have been hidden for three months) and "Mom" is reporting for duty.

Soon, "Atticus Cooks All Summer Long" will be reporting for duty as well. "Mom" will be doing a happy dance when no one is looking.

What would you improve to make our workplace better?

Honestly, the pay for a homeschooling mom could be better. Now that I think of it, I don't recall receiving a single paycheck or tax incentive. I do, however, appreciate the public library beyond all ken. Also, if coffee would learn to make itself, I'd really like that. If Atticus could quit his job, stay home and cook, that'd be great, too.

And if my kids would stop growing up, I'd be guaranteed job security as a teacher until I die. As it is, my workload will be drastically cut next year, with just one soon-to-be-twelve-year-old in our homeschool. That will be simultaneously an improvement, in terms of time management, and a heartache in terms of facing reality.

Were you happy with your pay, benefits and other incentives?

As mentioned above, the pay stinks, but the fringes are excellent: close relationships with my daughters, a flexible schedule, and never having to go to the grocery store on a Saturday.

What was the quality of the supervision you received?

God is kind of in charge of this homeschool, and I'd have to say that His leadership was excellent. I sometimes wish He would yell at me, though, so I'd have a clearer picture of His expectations, but that doesn't seem to be the kind of boss He is. Overall, His quiet management style suits me. He doesn't micromanage, and yet He always seems in control. Wish I could pull that off.

Based on your experience with us, what do you think it takes to succeed at this company?

An ability to laugh. At everything. And everyone.

Did any company policies or procedures (or any other obstacles) make your job more difficult?

Could you drop the company policy on having to cover math? That one makes my staff cranky.

There's also this requirement to feed the staff constantly. That one makes me cranky. When I took this homeschooling job, I wasn't thinking about how people can be so unreasonable -- wanting dinner every, single night. Dirtying up bathrooms that demand to be cleaned on a regular basis. Generating laundry daily because everyone insists on wearing actual clothes every, single, day.

In other words, if those characters under my supervision didn't have to eat, dress, function, and learn how figure out a mortgage payment, my job would be much easier. Could you work on self-sustaining model of student? (Oh, wait. Then I'd be out of a job.)

Would you consider working again for this company in the future?

Oh, yes. I'll be back in September. Please hold my spot for me.

Would you recommend working for this company to your family and friends?

Highly recommend it. I know it's not for everyone, but it's worked out great for us. Maybe try it out, as an intern first, if you're considering taking the plunge.

How do you generally feel about this company?

My gosh, you ache for approval. You Exit Interviewers really get tiresome. Okay, I'll say it again: this homeschooling stuff is amazing. Great job, I love it. I recommend it to anyone who's up for a challenge and the freedom of a different and interesting lifestyle.

What did you like most about this company?

Will you stop already?

What did you like least about this company?

Stop being so self-centered!

What does your new company offer that this company doesn't?

Ummm ... summertime.

But, as I already told you, I'll be back in the fall.

Chill out.

Did anyone in this company discriminate against you, harass you or cause hostile working conditions?

Let's not revisit that one time with Ramona and math, okay? I'll be back in the fall, despite that incident, and we'll just keep it between us, okay?

Any other comments?

Hello, freedom from math summer. I've missed you.

We Have Different Dreams

Ramona: Do I have to do math today?

Me: Yes.

Ramona: Why?

Me: Because. Plus, you haven't done math since Thursday. 

Ramona: Exactly! I'm livin' the dream!

Anne's Math is Still Wuntherful

Years ago (seven and a half of them, to be exact), I blogged about the way Anne's mind processed math, and then I blogged about it some more. Last night, Anne was doing some math. There was some kind of algebraic thing about Lance Armstrong, and distances, and rates, and speed, and all those other annoying mathy things.

Anne read the problem, looked up at me, and said, "But really. Since Lance Armstrong did steroids, does any of this really apply?"

I love that girl.

School and Unschool and Everything In Between

What we've been doing:

* For Ramona's book club we just finished reading Marie McSwigan's Snow Treasure. It was slow going for her at first, but once we got into the meat of it, she enjoyed it. Here's a link to my quick review from 2006. (That was waaaay back when I read it to my then 10- and 12-year olds, and Ramona was just a pre-schooler. And here's a link to loads of other WWII related reading for younger readers.)

* Ramona has a new pen pal. Snail mail lives! We use this stuff called paper, pen, envelopes, and stamps. If you haven't tried them, you should give it a whirl. It's revolutionary!

* Science for Ramona right now is mostly National Geographic Kids and Kids Discover. These also dovetail nicely into the "social studies" category. Also under the social studies category is being ten years old and living with teenagers ... all kinds of opportunities for viewing those creatures in their natural habitat and discussing their anomalies with your mother.

* Finished reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire to Ramona. (I edit the icky, dark parts late in the book.) All past bloggy-things-Harry are here.

* Dragon Box is still a hit around here.

* Ramona also likes several of the math games she's tried at Sheppard Software.

* Betsy, who's taking a French class at the college, is reading Pride and Prejudice on the Kindle -- in French. She's also re- (re-re-re-) reading a hard copy in English, so if she gets hung up, she just jogs her memory with that. She's surpassed me and the little bit of French I took many years ago. I do still remember how to ask what time it is and the location of the nearest bathroom. Vital stuff.

* Anne-with-an-e loves spring break almost as much as she loves dissecting things in her zoology class.  Or is it that she loves dissecting things almost as much as she loves a leisurely spring break? Either way, she's having a lovely week.

* Lent rolls along. Our Lamb of God is beginning to grow fuzzy. I can be heard occasionally complaining that I really want to have something sweet. Sugar! (Eeek...How spoiled am I? Really!?) I caved one evening, the Saturday night we were out of town for the girls' Winter Ball. I gobbled some regifted chocolates that night. (That is a story too long to go into, but suffice to say that I do a Christmas gift exchange with a friend each year, and I always give him oatmeal cookies, and he always gives me regifted chocolates, and this was the first time we'd seen each other since Christmas. A sad excuse, but the only one I've got.) Back to Lent: we have lots of talks about sacrifice and hardship, hunger and plenty, waste and abundance, sin and repentance. We talk about weakness and chocolate and first world problems.

We got ourselves to confession. We'll plan to get there again soon.

* We've started doing Night Prayer with the girls. I've used iBreviary for myself for some time now, and love it. Atticus and I also use it for Morning Prayer, and now Ramona is enjoying taking charge of scrolling us through the Liturgy of the Hours before bedtime. It's loverly.

Our plans this year: Math

I have one hyphenated word for you:

Math-U-See.

It's our newest discovery in the world of numbers, and I wish I'd started it a long time ago. I switched to it just last spring, so we don't have a lot of experience with it under our belts, but I've seen some light bulbs going on, I'm making sure foundational knowledge is there (and growing), and the kids love Steve Demme.

I think I love him, too.

Understand, please, that we've never really found math to be wunth-erful here. We're more interested in words about math than in the math itself. I love to listen to mathematicians wax poetic on how sublime is the math they revere. Really, I can appreciate that, and I never meant to create such enmity in my children toward this whole, beautiful system that God dreamed up. But, alas, it seems to be the natural order of things, given the Karen/Atticus combination of genes. Atticus, though I know him to be one of the most brilliant people I've ever met, says he was a dolt in math. (I still think he's exaggerating, describing interest-level as ability.) I did fine -- even managed A's -- for as long as math was required. But, as soon as High School Requirements said, "No more math is required of you," I dropped it instantly. I simply did. Not. Care. Anne and Betsy seem to have picked up on that.

Note my categories, over there to your right ... I have four posts labeled "Math" and one of them is a complete rerun. (Now I have five posts on math, and two of them include reruns. So, really, I have only three original posts on math. Wait, did I do that math correctly?)

We could (and may) go on forever reading great, fun little books like Math Curse and The Grapes of Math or the Sir Cumference books, but, for us, those are all about the clever wordplay and the fun with language.

It's usually not about the numbers.

Which is probably one of the things we love about Steve Demme -- he likes wordplay, too. To the groan-th degree, at times, but kids love that. And I love that they love that.

I can thank Melissa Wiley and her enthusiastic endorsements for the nudge I needed to look into this program. (Oops -- I missed one ... here's another. I do believe Steve Demme is a demi-god in the Lilting Bonny Glen House. But, u-can-see why.)

Enough. All good things -- except numbers -- come to an end and so must this post. This turned into a lot more than just one hypenated word, eh?

Oh, just one more thing ... Ramona's math? Well, we'll measure and bake, count hugs and kisses, play games, read books and just live. That's what Kindergarten math should be, I think.

And, it'll be wunth-er-ful.

Nothing to say

I am brain dead this morning, and therefore, have nothing to say. So, I decided to look back at last January, and see what I had to say on this day last year. Apparently, I was brain dead last year as well. What is it about January 30th?

I was in the midst of a major attitude about Anne-with-an-e's math, and was wondering when she would ever use the multiplication of fractions in real life.

This is what I said a year ago:

Today, at the Real Learning discussion boards, I posted this complaint, er ... question:

I'm looking for some real life applications for my daughter for multiplying fractions ... something she can grasp, something beyond the very unreal examples in math books.

Here's how my daughter and I would both respond to the following problem in her math book:

"Larry ordered 3/8 of a pizza. He gave Pat 1/3 of his pizza. How much of a pizza did Pat get?"

She and I would both say this sort of thing:

"Do you think Pat is a guy? Or his wife? And why would someone order 3/8 of a pizza? That's ridiculous. I might order by the slice, but never in fractions. Pat must be a guy friend, because Larry certainly would give his own wife more than 1/3 of 3/8 of a pizza. Are you hungry? Let's get something to eat. Then maybe we could write a story about a hungry mother and daughter who abandon math, join forces to open a pizzeria and hire people to do all the stuff that makes them lapse slowly into comas ... i.e., the measuring, the math ...."

... I do think doubling or tripling is easy for her to see, but what we're missing is when will one use things like this:

1/3 x 3/8
3/4 x 2/3
4/21 x 7/9

and the countless other examples in any math book? What's the point of these? Who uses them?

... When in real life do we do this? When in life do I do this? Or shall we chalk it up to "needed to move on and pass SATs down the road ...."

As you can see, we're big on the living books, literature, history, and oohing and aahhing over science that involves life forms, but the math? Not so much.

The only things I've been able to figure out in answer to my question:

I can think of instances in which we'd need to divide a fraction, and since in the universe of math we divide by inverting and multiplying, we just have to know how to do the pluttification before we can do the division.

Anyone? Anyone?

Several anyones, notably and kindly, Liz, Ron R. and the girls' sweet Aunt Nancy (all of whom probably roll their eyes at me, and assume the tone of one talking to a six-year-old: "Now, Karen, dear, just think about it ....") pointed out that there are a few connections to real life (though I must confess I still find them to be mostly tortured connections.) My friend Tim made me laugh out loud with his comment about just turning up his iPod.

And so, where does all this reminiscing leave me?

With no computer time left.

Days of Math

I just saw this math calendar, by Theoni Pappas.

Isn't it beautiful?

Remind me to use the plain cup next time

During math yesterday, Anne-with-an-e was enjoying peppermint tea in the Tess cup. The Tess cup is one of my favorite little coffee cups, a gift from a friend to Atticus long ago: it's a cream colored affair with black script, showing a reproduction of Hardy's first few lines from a first draft of Tess of the D'Urbervilles, complete with cross-outs, margin notes and the like.

As we were doing the math (or, more accurately, as I was expecting Anne to continue the math) she got a bit distracted.

"Doesn't Daddy teach Tess?" she asked.

"Yes, he does. Usually." (I didn't add that my sweet, thoughtful husband has sometimes abandoned the teaching of this novel when there's a pregnant teen in his class, out of sensitivity to her and the paths down which the discussion might wander.)

"And why are so many things crossed out?" Anne asked.

"Well, it's a rough draft," I replied, equally distracted and now clearly as ready as Anne to direct my attention to Thomas Hardy and the writing process. "You know how rough drafts are. They're ... um, rough. You write it, you cross it out, you start again."

"I don't have to cross that many things out of my rough drafts," touted Anne, firm in her conviction that her writing must be superior to Hardy's. "I didn't cross out much of anything in my last story."

I, too, was now thoroughly distracted and thoroughly immersed in the conversation. Isn't this so much more interesting than numbers on a page?

"Well, your story is flowing, true, but you might have some crossing out to do when you go back and reread it. And then, you know Tess is a novel ... it'd take quite a few more drafts to get a novel down."

She nodded, and sipped while I got up and poured myself another cup of coffee and suddenly remembered that we'd come to the kitchen table with a purpose other than discussing writing and literature. "Hey, aren't we supposed to be doing this division stuff?"

"Oh, yeah," said Anne, shaking herself. "But I really do like this cup."

Yeah, Sweetie. So do I.

Math with Anne ...

... in which We Discover How Our Weaknesses Become Our Strengths.

Anne-with-an-e had a math challenge this morning which involved writing the reciprocal of the number five before she could do anything else.

"Look, Mom," she said, with a smile on her face, "what do you think?"

She had written an upside down, backwards five.

I laughed and of course had to tell her that I find her delightfully creative. (I also told her to finish the challenge.) This is the same brain that looks at the fraction 5/1 and says, "Five wunths ... A wunth. I wonder what a wunth looks like. Doesn't it sound like a Dr. Seuss character?"

This beautiful, exasperating, enchanting thing that is Anne's mind will allow her to do whatever it is that God will call her to do someday. It will not, most likely, be a thing of linear learning and math problems, but it will be something that is resplendent in its own Anne-way.

It will be wunth-erful.

Multiply, Schmultiply

Today, on a homeschooling discussion board, I posted this complaint, er ... question:

I'm looking for some real life applications for my daughter for multiplying fractions ... something she can grasp, something beyond the very unreal examples in math books.

Here's how my daughter and I would both respond to the following problem in her math book:

"Larry ordered 3/8 of a pizza. He gave Pat 1/3 of his pizza. How much of a pizza did Pat get?"

She and I would both say this sort of thing:

"Do you think Pat is a guy? Or his wife? And why would someone order 3/8 of a pizza? That's ridiculous. I might order by the slice, but never in fractions. Pat must be a guy friend, because Larry certainly would give his own wife more than 1/3 of 3/8 of a pizza. Are you hungry? Let's get something to eat. Then maybe we could write a story about a hungry mother and daughter who abandon math, join forces to open a pizzeria and hire people to do all the stuff that makes them lapse slowly into comas ... i.e., the measuring, the math ...."

... I do think doubling or tripling is easy for her to see, but what we're missing is when will one use things like this:

1/3 x 3/8
3/4 x 2/3
4/21 x 7/9

and the countless other examples in any math book? What's the point of these? Who uses them?

... When in real life do we do this? When in life do I do this? Or shall we chalk it up to "needed to move on and pass SATs down the road ...."


As you can see, we're big on the living books, literature, history, and oohing and aahhing over science that involves life forms, but the math? Not so much.

The only things I've been able to figure out in answer to my question:

I can think of instances in which we'd need to divide a fraction, and since in the universe of math we divide by inverting and multiplying, we just have to know how to do the pluttification before we can do the division.

Anyone? Anyone?