Bad poetry a la dishwashers

Yesterday began with a smoking dishwasher. (smoke,yes)
And a smokin' mad mamma.
I may have, perhaps, hurt some feelings on my evil rampage.
Perhaps.
Which thus led to our suckiest homeschool day on record in the state of California.

belligerence is contagious.

I am determined that it shall not be repeated today.
It will be sunshine and Lollipops even though the forecast says rain.
Such determination is generally met with opposition...
Yet I maintain-sunshine and lollipops!

Because, Dorothy ( whom I virtually stalk), says:
" it's about connection not control"
And I tend to believe her.
And really, my fuming did nothing to limit the smoke pouring from said dishwasher.
It only scorched the heart of one little guy who felt responsible.

Jesus, Jesus grant me grace even for days wrought with smoking dishwashers
If you can stop the sun, then surely you could stop my mouth, yes?
For it is in your Mighty Name I pray. amen
And Amen!

Public Record: These are Joy

-Fairy tales told by 4 year olds.
-Flowers blooming purple and white.
-10 year old girl making paper chains; content
-Pasta bar: Ethan makes buttered noodles drenched in hot sauce and eats it like its the best thing since sliced bread
-a resistant reader wanting to read
-reading to my children

Naming Grace

If you were to only read this blog I think you might get the idea that life has been rough since moving to California. And you would be correct - mostly. But there IS good, and lots of it. Let me name the grace for you:

-Giggling children after dinner. Giggling unto tears!
-Snuggling with children on the couch
-A daughter who is learning to love to read again
-Kids who's favorite TV shows are Myth Busters, How It's Made, and Nova...we're cool like that!
-Homeade lemon meringue pie...beautiful... and made with my daughter
-Kids growing and their sense of humor growing too
-Abby kisses
-Family time
-Gorgeous weather, gorgeous open space, and beauty the stuns me almost every single day
-Abby songs
-full pantry, full tummies...enough
-a husband who is still my best friend
- an encouraging email
-choices
- new friends
-sisters coming for a visit
- Caleb becoming quite a swimmer
- a new day with no mistakes in it

Update in Bullets

-Our (Colorado) house is under contract. This is good. 1 Rent plus 1 mortgage equals yuck! But seeing as one deal has fallen through already; I'll believe in closing the deal when we have a check in hand- a tiny, little, baby, the housing market sucks check. So much for the glory days of of real estate investment.

-The two middle kids are homeschooling. It's mostly great, and mostly efficient. Except for when it is uber crummy. Then I think I would move back to Colorado and live in a cardboard box, just to get my kids in a good school. But good is definitely out-weighing the bad, and we will likely school more kids at home next year. To have this choice is a b

-Eddie has been swimming again. And biking a little, and running a little.

-We have baby calves in the pasture. We're in a little town, minutes from a big big city. We have hills (if no mountains) and a bay. We have all the convinces of city life with the beauty and wildlife of rural living. We have horses and cows, and none of it to manage. I love this. It is crazy unmerited grace in the vortex of ordinary.

- I skoinked my right foot, ankle and knee but good today when I fell down the stairs carrying Abby. It was such a good reminder of what a difference a second an a few inches can make in a life. All is the illusion of control. And Motrin is good. And health insurance is good - though I'm hoping I don't have to use it.

-My dad is in Rwanda. I want to go too. I am happy here, content in these slow child-rearing days. But someday, when the season changes I'll have stamps in my passport too.

Slow is smooth and smooth is quick...

Eddie has a superintendent that was a marine - special forces. The guy has fascinating stories. Fascinating.

Yesterday, he told Eddie about a saying they have in the marines:

"Slow is smooth, and smooth is quick."

Those words have been rolling around in my head, buffing away at some of the jagged edges of half formulated thoughts. Think on it: slow is smooth and smooth is quick. It challenges the motion of our lives, the pace at which we measure our days. We think our motion is movement - productivity even. But maybe we're just gyrating to the rhythms of chaos. Maybe their is nothing quick about frantic.

Part my psychophrenia about education is because my core beliefs are really on the margins of the culture at large, and sometimes living on the margins feels uncomfortable. So, I move towards the mainstream, but I find that that is even more uncomfortable. How do I live with these beliefs, and the reality of their cost to my kids, and our family? How do they flesh out in the world outside of my head, and do I sometimes need to make concessions to reality, even as I hold on to the ideal? Hence, the phychophrenia.

I kinda think it wouldn't be that big of deal if we didn't teach kids to read until they were 8. Especially if they get to listen to stories like Charlotte's Web, and Mrs. Piggle Wiggle and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I'm pretty sure that kids can learn grammar sans worksheet, and that baking cookies and playing store are pretty damn good ways to learn math. I think map reading skills develop best on road trips. I'm pro childhood and long afternoons lived out in pretend worlds. It's slow. It's smooth. And could it be quick? What if slow is the ideal pace of childhood?

What if 1.5 hours of homework for a 4th grader is just dumb? Maybe she should be making friendship bracelets and lemonade?

I was looking at my 5th grade son's language arts review sheet and noticed he was being quizzed on the subjunctive tense. Seriously? I was an English major and I cannot remember what that is - nor do I care. I cannot fathom a world where any 5th grade child would be edified in the knowing. Does this improve his writing? His oral communication? His critical thinking, or appreciation of literature? Will it ever matter? Or is it more drill and kill, and crank the blank? I believe it is the later.

Gyrating to the rhythm of chaos.

What if language is the art of conversation and communication? What if we teach our kids to love the aesthetic of a well written verse, and what if they learn to wield the written word like a powerful tool? What if we, say, didn't do so many worksheets? And, well, spent some more time reading really good books, and writing?What if we honored the fact that a kid spending an afternoon learning HTML to recode his computer game is real learning, and mattered? What if it was more important that a science worksheet?

So public school fits me like a wools sweater two sizes too small. It makes me itchy. I take a deep breath and tell my self it WILL be okay; everyone is doing it . I try to cajole myself, to spin the benefits of sending my kids to the machine that cranks out kids with standardized skills. There IS a part of me that loves tab A, slot B, turn this, punch in that system. Its tidier, and more predictable. And I am not anti phonics, grammar, math or composition. They're important, and sometimes boring to learn. Kid's should still learn them anyway. And sometimes in a really systematic way. But still. Itchy.

Homeschool is messy, and frankly, in certain seasons, totally undoable in our life. Real life is where the ideal meets dirty dishes, flu symptoms, bills, and bad attitudes. And there is friction. Always friction. And I don't have answers . Not always. But...

slow is smooth and smooth is quick

And there must be a way to teach them that honors this truth.

A long time coming...

This post is a long time coming. In fact, I doubt anyone ever reads this anymore because I've been sporadic - at best. But my "hit or miss" posts are chronicle our lives, and someday my kids might care. So, I post. Randomly.

I like California.

I am not such a big fan of typical public schools. Oddly, this surprises me. It shouldn't, but it does. This opinion is an old one, well formed, researched and entrenched. It began before I graduated from college while still in the Department of Education at CU. I did my practicums in middle schools and the Juvenile Justice Center and I saw things. These things disturbed me and kept me up at night. Mostly, I discovered that, while school was okay for lots of kids, many, many others suffered there. Literally, suffered. Anyone who fell outside one standard divination of the bell curve was well and truly marginalized. Gifted. Learning Disabled. Short. Chubby. Physically handicapped. Clutzy. Poor. Doesn't matter what the metric for normalcy is; kids outside of it suffer.

Actually, my own public school experience was kinda sucky. So, maybe my opinions started far before college, and were formed in Kindergarten, when I fell outside the norms. If people had been in to diagnosing ADHD then I might have received the label. But I was ADD before it was trendy, and I was a girl. I was well behaved. I just struggled. I felt stupid through high school, and it wasn't until college that I realized that I was actually smarter than most of my peers. Luckily, I had a really stable home life and my parents made some good moves to help me negotiate the war zone. I survived public schools, and even have a few fond memories. Yet for me, on a very basic pimal level public schools = scary and unsafe.

Now things have changed since I was a kindergartner, and even since I was an undergraduate. Policy has sifted. No Child Left Behind rules the day. Standardized Testing guides the classroom. Now kids on the margins shouldn't fall through the cracks. But they do. Oh, but they do. School isn't a good place to be something other than Standard.

Before, these opinions were largely academic. Here and now it has become deeply personal.

I have a child on the margins, and I watch him suffer.

Last year Caleb was a first grader, and a homeschool kid. We home schooled that year out of necessity, not from a place of joy. Basically, I brought the curriculum my kids were using at school home, and we did school at home. (Which, if you are a homeschooler you know, is not the same as homeschool, but that is a post for another day). Anyway, I watched Caleb progress slowly. I kept telling Eddie, "Something is not right here." But Caleb was basically content. By the second semester I knew I needed a shift. I started moving back to true homeschool (or at least true to me homeschool) and I had Caleb evaluated for ADHD. We put him on stimulants and watched his academic performance excellerate rapidly. Unfortuantely, the meds had sidefeffects that were intollerable. Caleb couldn't sleep. His eye began to twitch, which I later discovered was "ticking" and often a precursor to the onset of true Tourettes syndrome. Anyway, we took him off the meds, and hoped that we would find solutions and relief at the Gifted Charter school he would begin as a second grader.

Westgate (the Charter school) is a school based on universal design and employs the best practices of both gifted education and special education in the typical classroom. And, um, there were a lot of quirky kids there. Basically, it was a school for kids on the margins. Quirky was cool, or at least very acceptable. Caleb was doing okay there even without the meds -kinda.

Then we moved, and put Caleb in Public School.

And within a week we saw him flounder, fail, and begin to sink. He developed headaches, stomach aches, nightmares, and serious school anxiety. He was really, really behind and confused. I watch him walk around in a fog. Actually, thinking back, I remember the fog. it's a feeling I haven't had since my own public school days. Phychologists call it disassociating. Basically, I checked out. My body was there, but my mind and heart were elsewhere. School sucked, and though I physically had to be there I could choose to be elsewhere too. On those days I lived my life in 3rd person. I have seen my son do the same, and I remember the pain that was the precursor to the fog. And I am determined, my son will not live a life in 3rd person, he will not be a person of the fog.

So we've looked back into medication. And we've found a med that works for ADHD that is a non-stimulant and doesn't lower the threshold for ticking. For now, Tourettes is held at bay. And the new med is working. We're seeing slow and real progress in Caleb's ability to attend.
We've also had him evaluated by an audiologist and found that he does have a real auditory processing struggle. The sound of school is a challenge for him - it's a jungle of noise. For now, he has no guide book, compass or map through it. The school has been responsive, in their slow and beauracratic way, but they teeter on gray legal area, and they are a machine that will not be deterred. They are a locomotive on the tracks of standardization and policy, and my son might be a casualty.

I am faced with 2 options.

A - Hop on the train, like a ho-bo. And use my influence to direct the choices of the school. But like a train it has mass and inertia that is not easily influenced.

B- Get off the tracks, and help my son without the resources or policies of "THE DISTRICT".

And it's decision time...

A few good reasons to homeschool

-We may (or may not) be a traditional school family as of next fall. It would be a good thing. However, there are some fairly fabulous things about homeschooling. For example:

-If you get a pair of rollerskates for your 9 year old birthday and you want to wear them while doing school....NO PROB! Roll on over.

-If you need an extra 15 hours or so in your life so you can research and then build a space station from Legos, then homeschooling is just your speed.

-If you have a cold and need to sleep in...no worries...stumble on down at 9AM.

-If your the teacher and you have a cold you can (and should) declare it a late start day.

-If you want to do you math in red felt tip marker you probably can.

-You can read science magazines for an hour and half before you fall asleep at night and it counts as school.

-If you need to stop to play with the puppy or you just need a break it can be arranged..

-Your mom just might let you pick your reading material for language, and it just might be the graphic novel version of Nancy Drew.

-Frog and Toad.

-Making cookies for math.

-etc...

Phonics Song 2: It's stuck in my head

The Dumbness of Robinson

Bear with me. This is homeschoolese. It may be so uninteresting to some of you that you should quit now and return another day. That being said...

I'd been investigating a curriculum and philosophy of education called "Robinson", as in The Swiss Family. Basically, it uses classical literature and Saxon Math to teach kids. A typical day of Robinson would be sans sugar, sans TV or screen based media. It would include liberal doses of park your butt and bust out some math. Approximately, 2 hours of that...plus 2 hours of reading..and some writing for good measure. Because, you know, most kids like to wake-up to a bowl of unsweetened oats, then sit down at a desk for 2 hours of uninterrupted math. Of course, parents shouldn't engage this process (except to be the enforcer) because doing 2 hours of excruciatingly boring math by oneself builds character.

HOLY CRAP. I was nearly snowed. I almost bought into thinking this is how school should happen. I was, however, saved by the director of a public school. I'm sure she is flagrantly pagan. Yet I had one of those moments (usually saved for church) when I felt that as she spoke God was speaking to me.

REPENT!

Turn. Run. Robinson, and his Swiss Family are not for you!

Lately, homeschool has SUCKED. It's no wonder really. I was sitting my kids down with a pile of worksheets and asking them to be self-motivated and disciplined and complete these worksheets in a timely manner, all with a good attitude. Robinson and his insipid philosophy and wheedled into my thinking and robbed my family of joy.

I am 34.

An adult, by every definition.
I would be grumpy about sitting down for 3 hours to complete a bunch of worksheets.
It would be like doing taxes everyday.
(Not that I would know, because I haven't done my own taxes in well over a decade
- but one could assume it would be similar.)

This Robinson stuff is crappy pedagogy. All the research in adult and childhood learning suggests this an exceptionally bad way to learn. Besides that, it's a joy killer. I got into homeschool because I was disenchanted with this type of "back to basics" education. I knew adults learn best when they:
-are ready to learn
-and can attach learning to their own life and interests
-are given opportunity engage and interact with others in the learning process

I figured that kids learn best that way too. And I was right. The research has my back.

So when we started this homeschool journey we played, and we read amazing literature, and we built, and painted and experimented. It was FUN. And I was a good teacher. Somewhere I got lost, though. Because my kids got older and their school got harder. It's easy to have fun learning to add. It's more difficult to create authentic, experiential learning around long division and multiplying fractions. Add in a regulating challenged baby and the whole thing goes to #$&%. So I started looking into things like Robinson (because if my kids were basically schooling themselves homeschool seemed doable).

But at what cost?

Back to that public school director I was talking about. She founded a charter for gifted and creative learners. Like I said, she's a pagan right out of the Republic of Boulder. Yet, her philosophy of education is far more biblical. Honor the child. Be humble. Smart is good. Kind is better. Allow for differences. Create safe places. Work together. Teach community. Strive for excellence. This world is a place of beauty; let children be in awe of it. Inspire. Encourage. Serve.
She said these thing, she and her Crunchy-Boulderite-Dansko-Wearing self, and I remembered. I remembered what makes me a good teacher, and what makes homeschooling beautiful. I remembered why I started.

Here's the thing: It is quite possible, probable even, that I cannot do home school like I believe homeschool should be done with my particular preschooler. Either she's going to school, or my "biggers" are. And if I'm lucky it's possible they all will. Because if I can get them in, they are gonna go to that school the Pagan started.

Enough with Swiss Family Robinson. We're done. God has spoken. Truly. And through a Boulderite, no less. So I went to the library this weekend. We're reading together again. And baking. And experimenting. It's messy. Not sure if its sustainable. But it IS better.

Robinson Curriculum

I sort of suck as a home schooler. I don't toe the party line very well.
And I flunked out of Campus Crusade in college.
I love Jesus; I love the church, but who are we kidding?
Christians can be so weird. Christian culture is even weirder. Can I get an "amen"?

That being said, I am considering employing some of the pedagogical practices of a dude that I probably wouldn't/couldn't be friends with. He is exactly the type of guy that helped to form the stereo types about Christian homeschooling. His life is Saturday Night Live sketch material.

But his kids rocked the SATs, and his system works. Now, to be honest, I think good genes had a lot to do with those kid's success. They were genetically predisposed to being smarter than your average bear. But the system has merit. It's sound.

It is based on self-teaching, with a strong focus on the 3 Rs. Robinson Curriculum employs a sound math curriculum, fabulous Literature and writing (as the means of learning to write). Parents facilitate a learning environment that is conducive to self-teaching; they set up accountability, then back off. I like that the curriculum teaches kids how to learn, and not only what to learn. I like that it is doable with multiple children. I like the good literature, and solid math. Those are the pros.

Here are the cons:

• The dude makes my husband (who is a right-wing conservative) look like a flaming liberal. In Art Robinson's reality all children in the public schools have been orphaned to a system hell bent on indoctrinating children with socialist bull crap and systematically eroding there sense of right and wrong. (Okay-He didn't say it in those words, particularly the "bull crap" part.)
• The dude suggests that nearly all intervention on a parent's part (as it relates to academics) is detrimental. That is not my experience, nor is it indicative of the best research on how people learn. I've found that sometimes just sitting next to a child who is tackling difficult math gives them the courage to press on. This is often my own experience. And I do not agree that we were meant to live independently; we're made to connect.
• The dude has totally legalistic views on sugar and TV. He probably doesn't dance, or drink, or think women should wear pants. I doubt he would approve of me being on staff at church in the role of director (which I am). He would likely pitch a fit that I wear jeans, to said church, and report to a woman in the role of a pastor. I also drink and dance, and hang with people who do. I've even been known to say "SEX" out loud and in mixed company. This has nothing to do with his curriculum per se ; it just annoys me.
  
• The dude puts high value on the sciences (which is good), but minimizes the language arts. As an English major (from a very liberal college) I kinda like the language arts. A lot.
  

But the curriculum.

It just might be good.

I'll probably use it, or steal from it liberally.

That is if I don't send my kids to public school.

I'd like to write a novel someday

I'd like to write a novel someday. But it sounds like a lot of work.

I am not opposed to work per se, even hard work. But the thing is I've got a bunch of other stuff that needs doin'. Boogers to wipe - for one. Also, I'm the resident guru of 1st, 3rd, and 5th grade math 'round these parts. And it comes with responsibility - who will teach long division if I will not?

"Here am I, send me."

Then there is the laundry. It. Must. Be. Handled.

"Here am I, send me."

And the therapy to attend.

"Here am I, send me."

Dinner doesn't cook itself, now does it?

"Here am I, send me"

Sometimes I can say it with grace, with abandon. "Here am I, send me."

Those words, those 5 one-syllable words, they basically hand over my right to dictate my own life. Self actualization is traded in for servanthood. And the greatest shall be the least. On the good days...

I am happy to be a stay-at-home momma.

Happyish. (For it was never my dream.)

But I'd like to write a novel.

Or go to grad school.

Or travel.

However...

My life is not my own.

So Lord, let me find joy in the ordinary, and the day to day. Get my head out of the clouds and my feet on the ground. Help me to find satisfaction as I wiggle my toes down into the dirt of life. Remind me that the endless dishes, and the mundane tasks have a purpose. Help me to be faithful. Help me to be joyful. Help me to be generous.

I'd like to write a novel some day.

If I don't do it before I die, I'll just write it in heaven.

Busy bags and homeschool tricks

This morning I spent an hour and a half putting together "busy bags". Other people have cuter names for these contraption - but it's all the same. We homeschool moms are working to keep our "littles" busy while we school our "bigs". So we pull out ziploc bags, or shoeboxes and fill them with activities to keep our preschoolers occupied. Play-dough. Lacing Beads. Puzzles. Audio Books. And the trick, the imperative, is that these things do not come out unless mom hands them out. They are not for everyday use. They are special, and must remain novel in order to work.

Of course, these "busy bags" only work when your child is NOT hell-bent on creating havoc. But they do, generally, buy some time to bust out a little algebra. I know good homeschool moms are supposed to like to put together things like these. I don't. Seriously folks, I nearly flunked home economics. But somethings we do out of necessity. And my survival instinct is strong.


The other day an acquaintance from church came over and was uber impressed with my white board, chunked up into neat little boxed for each child outlining the work that needs to get done. She said, "Are you a really organized person?" Yea -NO! I am a person residing in a home with 9 individuals and three very young canines. 6 kids. 3 puppies. 2 dealing with recent trauma. 1 in therapy for her "quirky" little brain. And I homeschool. That white board and any semblance of organization you see is about me makin' it work. And it does work - at least most days.

But least you think I have it all together I must 'fess up. I don't have a solution for this one: a particular 3 year old is completely obsessed with dog food. She love to play with it. She loves to throw it, and eat it. She loves to gag puppies with it. I think its a weird sensory thing combined with ZERO impulse control, and just a smattering of "I'm pissed at the puppy for stealing the show." Looking for a solution here.

Things that don't work:

-Moving the food.
-Screaming and yelling.
-Requiring the offender to pick-up the mess.
-Gentle reminders

Homeschool and Christmas

I tend to blow off the natural rhythms of life, preferring instead to ascribe to the guilt and shame modality of my Baptist heritage. Life SHOULD be full of grace and truth, fun and diligence, training and recovery.

But I am, apparently, above that nonsense. I work, work, work then fall flat on my face in exhaustion. Looking back I can see patterned played out over and over again.

This is how it looks as it applies to homeschool:

By December we are ready for a break in the routine, plus the holiday season brings with it lots of other commitments. One would think that, I would adjust accordingly. Homeschooling provides that kind of flexibility. NOPE. Traditionally, I hunker down and bust out some school, making every one in my path as miserable about education as I am. Then mid-December, my determination fizzles and I say "screw-it" . I then embrace Christmastime in all its cookie making gluttony. Novice homeschoolers take note:

THIS IS DUMB!

DON'T DO IT!

IT IS NOT SMART!

Plan for Christmastime. Enjoy it. Live up the beauty of homeschool. And for goodness sakes, be okay with taking some time off. This would be much smarter. And this is what I am doing this year.

We're making a recipe book of Christmas goodies and calling it handwriting.
We're gonna read "A Family Under the Bridge" and call it Language.
We're gonna double a candy recipe and calculate the cost of ingredients, and that will be Math.
We will probably read some of Luke, which will of course, be Bible.
Maybe we will make some ornaments: ART.
We're gonna make some cookies, and candies, and that will be science. Because there really is a science to cookie and candy making.
Then were gonna go shopping in the World Vision Catalog and buy us a some ducks and a goat, so that a family escape abject poverty. Maybe that's social studies, but even if it's not were doing it.

There are some beautiful things about homeschool. This December I'm determined to relish them.

Barking more than the puppy!

This morning I thought I would blog about why I love homeschooling. It would have been a lovely post about deliciously homeade buckwheat pancakes and lattes, and lazy snowy mornings...

it would have been a post like that...

except...

There is a ten year old learning to write research papers, and that apparently requires a fair amount of pissing and moaning.

There is an 8 year old who does not want to learn 6x8, or 6 time anything for that matter. It makes long division an extremely LOOONNNGGG and excruciation process for anyone in the vicinity.

There is a 7 year old who doesn't feel well - and inherited his mother's tendency to get emotional when hungry, tired or sick.

There is a 3 year old who does not enjoy her schedule being thrown off by such silly things as buckwheat pancakes and lattes.

There is a 12 week old puppy who doesn't like to be drug around by her front leg by a preschooler wearing a fairy costume. Imagine that!

There is a thirty something woman who is trying to model long-suffering and tolerance, but in actuality might have been barking more than the puppy.

SO...

We are declaring an extended recess/PE. The big kids are going outside to build a snowman in 3/4 inch of snow. And peanut put herself down for a nap.

See there are some good things about homeschooling after all...

confessions of a homeschool drop-out, a note to homeschoolers

To be a good homeschooler you have to believe in what you're doing. You have to believe the choices you're making are the absolute best for your kids. Homeschooling is hard and requires great sacrifice so if you didn't believe in it you'd quit.

I quit.

Truth be told sometimes I feel nostalgic for the good ol' days of homeschooling. And there were some - good days, that is. But all and all I knew, I KNEW, that homeschooling was no longer the best choice for my family.

Sending my kids to school has not been without cost (tuition for a private school AIN'T cheap folks). But for us it has been a good fit. So to all you homeschoolers out there here are some good reasons to quit, or at least not judge those of us who have chosen differently.

-I was going "head to head" with my daughter daily. It was exhausting - for both of us. Delegating the role of "primary teacher" to someone else has allowed me to step into the role of coach. I am able to walk with my daughter through her struggles and sidestep much of the direct conflict. It's good for our relationship.

-My daughter thrives on predictability. I was unable to provide her the structure she needed to learn the best when I was also trying to manage a toddler.

-It has been a wonderful, wonderful thing to have other godly adults (namely, my kid's teachers) speaking into their lives. They reinforce the truth that we are teaching at home.

-Homeschooling was, partly, a control freak thing for me. I like to be in control of what my kids are learning, how they are learning it, and when they are learning it. It's been good for me to let go of some of that control. Truthfully, I still THINK that some of my ways are better. But God is using other methods, and other people to educate my kids. And sometimes they are doing a much better job than I could. (Homeschoolers - wonder of wonders my kids can SPELL NOW!)

-My son is an extrovert. He needs to be with people, lots of them, for lots of time. It's how he's wired. Homeschooling doesn't necessarily equal poorly socialized kids - not at all. BUT I was unable to meet one of my son's legitimate needs at home. He is happier now.

-Peer pressure combats laziness - we had laziness issues homeschooling. Competition can be good.

-I am a parent to an absent minded kid - a genetic trait he, unfortunately, inherited from me. School has required him to step it up or deal with the consequences. Believe it or not, the kid can and does remember to do his homework, and turn it in. (Most of the time!)

-Even at a small Christian school we run into "people issues". Kids tease. Girls are catty. People get their feelings hurt. My kids are not insulated from those struggles like they were when we were homeschooling. That's a con. It's so painful for me, as a mom, to watch my kids struggle with these things. But it does give me ample chance to coach them through difficult people issues in the relative safety of their home and with their Christian teachers. (This is not to say that I would ever, ever put up with bullying. But that's not what's going on - it's just kid stuff)

-I am emotionally healthier. Eddie and I are ultimately accountable to God for how we parent, but we can delegate. Delegating is good. I DO NOT HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF. I am a better mom to my kids when I am not also their teacher.

- Homeschooling rocks, in principle. In reality, it is imperfect. If you homeschool, and you're honest, you know that. For us too many balls were being dropped, and too many needs going unmet. God provided us CCA as a resource to help us as a family. It is clearly where he wants us for this season.

-Who knows, someday we may even send our kids into the trenches of public school. I know parents, parents I admire, who have deliberately chosen public schools for their kids. They didn't choose it because it was easiest; they thought it was the best choice for their family. And it was.

PS - guess what I miss most about homeschooling? Sonlight. I LOVE their literature and their approach. My kids do too! Ironically, CHEC (an organization with whom I take issues) has not allowed Sonlight to be a part of their confrence. May I just express my outrage: OUTRAGE. Don't even get me started on that one....

I don't get it God!

Once, many moons ago, we were considered as potential parents for a sibling group. Two babies, in fact, needed a home. One would be 1o months old and the other would be a brand new one, straight from the hospital. We were overwhelmed at the idea of going from a family with three children to a family with five children. We prayed, and we prayed, and over the course of a few days decided that if these were the children that God had for us, then we would joyfully accept them into our home.

Ultimately, they were placed with another family. This was a good thing; it was the path that led us to our daughter. But, still, I was devastated by the loss. Which made no sense, I know it. But there it is. To this day I cannot understand why God led us through the process of opening our hearts to two children who would never be our own.

Wednesday felt a little like that. I was busy filling out enrollment papers for our kids to start school in December. When, it finally dawned on me that the one job that I'd found that would work with our families schedule (sort of) would actually cost us money by the time I paid childcare. And then I found out that the freelance job I was planning on was going to get nixed due to budget cutbacks.

We were excited about school for our kids. We'd prayed about it. We felt peace. And then the money to pay for tuition evaporated. And like that, our plans changed.

So now the plan is to continue to homeschool the kids, and squeeze our budget to hire a babysitter a couple mornings a weeks to watch the baby. Because homeschooling 3 while caring for a toddler is kinda beyond me. This feels okay. Good actually. But I don't get it. I cannot even begin to tell you the emotional energy and time I put into finding this school for the kids. It seems like such a waste.

Sometimes, more times than children's books and Disney movies let on, life doesn't make sense. The bad guy doesn't always wear a black hat, and the hero isn't always riding a white stallion. Sometimes going around in circles is the shortest distance between two points. And that make no sense to me.

But only told you about half of my Wednesday.

There is another part of the story. Scroll back to 8 AM Wednesday morning with me. Picture me with messy hair and a bathrobe helping the kids do their chores. Picture me frazzled and freaking out about how to pay for school. Right about then is when my daughter handed me a white scrap of paper off her bedroom floor. She said, "Mom, I want you to have this." Sure. Whatever. I stuffed it in the pocket of my fluffy white bathrobe. When I pulled it out to read later I discovered it was the verse my daughter had been learning at church. It read, "God is my shepherd. He gives me everything I need."

I wasn't aware that God used 6 year old couriers to deliver His messages. Apparently, He does. Because that little scrap of paper was a message from God to me. Personal, and appropriate. This is what he said,

"Chill - I know - I care - I'll take care of you. "

And at the end of the day, after tuition money evaporated, I still didn't understand. There was no "Ahh..Haaa". But somehow, in the mess of it all, God will give me everything I need. I know because he told me...via a 6 year old courier service.

I hesitate to share, but...

This one is so, so weird that I hesitate to share it with you. But heck, I've already probably ruined my reputation with that washable marker on the forehead stunt. (For the record red washable marker isn't really washable. Well you can wash it but it does tend to stain the pigment of your children's skin) Remember our backyard olympics...well one of the events required bean bags. I don't have "traditional" bean bags on hand so I fabricated some out of some dried pinto beans and the socks that have mysteriously lost their mate. It worked great.

When clean up time came we apparently missed one of the "bean bags". It got tossed into our vegetable garden. Well, those dried beans you get from the store can sprout. In a sock, even. When I noticed the "bean bag" I went to pick it up and noticed that roots were holding it to the ground.

So, being the good homeschool mom that I am, we cut open the sock only to discover that the beans had sprouted some pretty healthy looking leaves. E dissected a couple of the bean sprouts and did a little research online about the parts of a bean plant. We never really finished our math lesson, but science got an interesting twist yesterday. We even took a little footage of the event.

Yes, we are that nerdy.

You might wonder what we do all day...

You know you're a homeschooler when...

I need to do a Letterman style top 10 list entitled, "You know you're a homeschooler when..." It'd have stuff like: You know you're a homeschooler when your kids take their spelling test in their pajamas. Or maybe, you know you're a homeschooler when you let your kid go to the store wearing plaid shorts, cowboy boots, and a hawaiian shirt littered with "Jesus Loves You" stickers - and he's 13 years old.

I think people who don't homeschool think that us homeschooling moms don't realize our kids are weird. We know. We are keenly aware.

I was talking to another homeschool mom about her first day at her son's football practice. She said all the other boys on the team had buzz cuts, and her son had longish curly hair. She said her son was dressed in Target brand clothes, head to foot. But the other boys were all wearing the same brand of designer shirts and shoes. Her son stuck out like a sore thumb, and she had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, she wanted her son to fit in and be included. On the other hand she really liked that her son was different - totally himself, among the 8 and 9 year old football clones.

That's where the whole socialization question comes in. When people ask how our homeschooled kids will be socialized they are really asking, "Don't you think your kids will end up kinda weird if they aren't in school with other kids?" They aren't really asking if our kids will be able to function as adults and have healthy relationships. Homeschool kids do those things.

But are they weird?
Yeah, kinda.
We know it.
They usually aren't as hip.
They grow up slower, and use bigger words when they talk.
They might even be interested in mechanical engineering or sewing.

And for the most part - we like it that way. Our kids are growing up to be who God made them to be. They are unique; they are individuals. And a little weird is worth it!

Today I hate homeschooling...

I need a place to vent, so here it is, TODAY'S SCHOOL STUNK! This is why it's irritating:
-My kids are supposed to learn a memory verse. This is easy for them, but today they dug in their heals. NOBODY knew the verse, they were creating stupid wrong ways to say the verse. Finally I sweetened the pot, I said, "I've got a peice of candy for the first kid who can say the verse correctly." Amazing how quickly all three of my kids spouted off the verse. They were literally just trying to be annoying - and it worked.
-Bub wanted to hear the same 2 dumb machine books again. He asked the same dumb questions is the same spots. He knows the answer to the questions, because he asked the questions yesterday. I think he likes asking questions he knows the answers to, but for a girl who is low on patience this it aggravating.
-M literally took a bite out of her basal reader - and ate it. She says paper tastes good. Then she pretended to read the words to the book, sounding out the tricky ones and everything. She "reads" the pictures and makes up what she thinks is a plausible story line. Somehow she thinks she will fake me out, like I can't read. Finally I told her, "M, I cannot read with you today, its too annoying." Guess what, she sat down and read the book perfectly.
- E hates copywork. He griped for 20 minutes, flopping on the floor and everything. Apparently he was overcome with a terrible headache, and so tired his hand wouldn't move. After 20 minutes of this he sat down and did his copywork perfectly in approximately 1 minute.

HOW DO THEY KNOW WHAT BUTTONS TO PUSH? THEY LITERALLY TRY TO IRRITATE ME. WHY OH WHY DO I HOMESCHOOL?