We had our first homestudy visit the other night. It was a little nerve racking, like a first date but without anyone buying me food. I spent the day cleaning and taking Jack's temperature (he had a bit of a fever all day.) Twenty minutes before the scheduled time I received a phone call from the case worker:
Her: "I'm earlier than expected. Is that ok?"
Me: "Sure, no problem."
This was said nonchalantly, almost breezily. Then I hung up the phone and sprinted to the bedroom, causing Kate mild alarm. I had planned on using the last twenty minutes to make myself look presentable. It's my good fortune that I was already wearing nice clothes. And by nice I mean non-pajama.
I had a small crisis - to put on makeup or straighten my hair? I usually only wear makeup two days a week, the day I work and Sunday (if I work on a Sunday, well then, my make up time is cut in half.) Or for a special occasion, like buy one get one free with coupons at Publix. Of course, it seems to do me little good. I had a coworker tell me that I'd look really pretty with some makeup. After a beat, I narrowed my eyelinered eyes and said "I am." I'm not good at applying makeup and generally go very light because I'm terrified of looking like a raccoon. On a corner.
So I decided to straighten my hair instead, periodically calling out last minute advice to the kids like "If she speaks to you, answer politely" and "Please don't talk about your colon, Jack."
The bright spot to her coming early was that we were just finishing up dinner. It was baked eggplant and steamed broccoli. If she saw it, it would save me the trouble of having to prompt the children to talk about their vegetable-laden meal. "What's that on your shirt, Kate?" "Oh, that's just the organic broccoli mom. No pesticides for kids in this family!"
She was very kind and sweet and even though she told us not to worry if she scribbled notes, I still did. Before bed I laid awake imagining her notes:
'What's that smell? Diapers? Socks? The acrid stench of fear?
Or:
'Is this a joke, Susan? Because it's not funny. These people can't be trusted with an electric can opener. I'm so getting you back for this on Monday.'
During the interview, she asked us how we handled conflict. In his answer, Matt said something to the effect of us both agreeing that he's the head of the house, even though we tend to decide things together. I told him later that it's a good thing I wasn't drinking anything at the time, I might have choked. He wagged a finger at me and sternly declared "I make the rules here." Then I had to rush over and hug him because he knows that whenever he tries to be authoritative, it's so adorable I can hardly stand it.
After the interview we gave a tour of the house and oh my goodness hooray for nightfall.
It was the best cleaning I could do with a toddler and a 7 year old who looked up at me with soulful sad eyes whenever I even hinted at cleaning. "But mother, my rheum..." Not to be left out, Kate would quickly stop her joyous jumping whenever I looked her way. "I'm starting to have a sickness."
There was a little apprehension of the tour, like maybe I had completely overlooked an entire room or there would a line of roaches somewhere. Most of it was presentable, though.
"This is our meditation room and this is the foyer where we discuss our hopes and dreams and NO, DON'T OPEN THE CLOSET!"
The whole thing was actually a very pleasant experience. We got to hear all about our case worker's current adoption from Haiti and the mission work she does and hopes to expand someday. Amazing, encouraging stuff. We talked excitedly after she left of everything that is and could be.
At the end of the night, we were one step closer to our little girl. And thank God for His grace and goodness that stretches farther than we could see or imagine.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Setter of Low Standards
In regards to my last post, learning to sew is on my list of things to do. I hate the term 'bucket list' because, well, it's dumb. But I suppose it is a bucket list. Along with learning a foreign language, playing the guitar, and getting rid of that fat where your arm meets your torso. I have yet to check any of them off.
My mom knows how to sew. Or at least, she did. Whenever I was pregnant, I heard about how she sewed her own maternity clothes, none of this running out to Old Navy for a top (like the wimp I apparently was). I've seen pictures of her in those clothes, what flattering smocks they were! Enormous bows sewn jauntily onto the front - for the carefree mother-to-be. Permed hair and curled bangs proudly standing a good foot off of the head. Of course, I was also told that she sewed clothes for us and our dolls. "Don't you remember?" she asks, an unspoken 'all the sacrifices I made for you' added to the end of the sentence. "I used to make homemade doughnuts," she'll say, passing a box of store bought eclairs. Apparently there was also homemade applesauce, spaghetti sauce, jams, cinnamon rolls, and other such culinary delights. I have no memory of this. "Remember when we took you guys to the Baseball Hall of Fame?" No. "Remember Niagara Falls?" Not really. "Disney World?" No. "Surely you remember the time we went to England and you stayed up all night with the Queen, giggling and trying on tiaras. Then you were so tired the next day you slept on the plane to Tahiti and missed riding the dolphins." No, can't say that I do. Then I ask why none of these trips and hand-sewn clothes and homemade food was there when I was old enough to remember it. The answer is: We were too tired. Which makes me realize that perhaps their standards for early childhood happiness were simply too high.
We set ours pretty low. Then it's easy to reach. This year I instituted a policy that the kids could pick out a box of cereal for their birthdays. Any cereal they want. It was like they won the lottery. They each spent about 20 minutes in the cereal aisle, cautiously running fingers over Cookie Crisp and Apple Jacks (Katie called them 'Jacker Backs,' a nickname Matt has for Jack). They know the cereal rule is 6 grams of sugar or less per serving so they were heady with lawlessness. They eagerly clutched boxes of never-before-tasted goodness, eyes shining with joy, little feet pattering in anticipation. Even my speech about generic vs brand and cost per ounce did little to dampen the mood. Jack had a personal code of ethics crisis and debated whether to get the cookie cereal he's desired for months or to go with a healthier (albeit blander) cereal. In the end, the lure of eating miniature cookies for breakfast was too strong. I don't think he regretted it.
Or I'll take them to the dollar store and say magnanimously "You can pick out any three things you want." "Any three?" they squeal, hardly able to believe this landslide of good luck. "Oh, mother, you're the best, the very best!"
I know. Now finish your bowl of Fortunate Marshmallow Shapes.
My mom knows how to sew. Or at least, she did. Whenever I was pregnant, I heard about how she sewed her own maternity clothes, none of this running out to Old Navy for a top (like the wimp I apparently was). I've seen pictures of her in those clothes, what flattering smocks they were! Enormous bows sewn jauntily onto the front - for the carefree mother-to-be. Permed hair and curled bangs proudly standing a good foot off of the head. Of course, I was also told that she sewed clothes for us and our dolls. "Don't you remember?" she asks, an unspoken 'all the sacrifices I made for you' added to the end of the sentence. "I used to make homemade doughnuts," she'll say, passing a box of store bought eclairs. Apparently there was also homemade applesauce, spaghetti sauce, jams, cinnamon rolls, and other such culinary delights. I have no memory of this. "Remember when we took you guys to the Baseball Hall of Fame?" No. "Remember Niagara Falls?" Not really. "Disney World?" No. "Surely you remember the time we went to England and you stayed up all night with the Queen, giggling and trying on tiaras. Then you were so tired the next day you slept on the plane to Tahiti and missed riding the dolphins." No, can't say that I do. Then I ask why none of these trips and hand-sewn clothes and homemade food was there when I was old enough to remember it. The answer is: We were too tired. Which makes me realize that perhaps their standards for early childhood happiness were simply too high.
We set ours pretty low. Then it's easy to reach. This year I instituted a policy that the kids could pick out a box of cereal for their birthdays. Any cereal they want. It was like they won the lottery. They each spent about 20 minutes in the cereal aisle, cautiously running fingers over Cookie Crisp and Apple Jacks (Katie called them 'Jacker Backs,' a nickname Matt has for Jack). They know the cereal rule is 6 grams of sugar or less per serving so they were heady with lawlessness. They eagerly clutched boxes of never-before-tasted goodness, eyes shining with joy, little feet pattering in anticipation. Even my speech about generic vs brand and cost per ounce did little to dampen the mood. Jack had a personal code of ethics crisis and debated whether to get the cookie cereal he's desired for months or to go with a healthier (albeit blander) cereal. In the end, the lure of eating miniature cookies for breakfast was too strong. I don't think he regretted it.
Or I'll take them to the dollar store and say magnanimously "You can pick out any three things you want." "Any three?" they squeal, hardly able to believe this landslide of good luck. "Oh, mother, you're the best, the very best!"
I know. Now finish your bowl of Fortunate Marshmallow Shapes.
Friday, August 24, 2012
The Best Button Seamstress Ever
I have a good friend who knows how to sew. Really, I would call her my best friend but that smacks of sleepovers and notes passed in study hall. Dear friend implies that we drink tea together and host fundraisers to end social injustice. Bestie is right out. I can hardly type that word. We do none of the aforementioned things so good friend it is.
She makes really cute purses. If ever I have an occasion to use a clutch, it will be one of hers. They just won't work in my everyday life, though. I'll be in line at CVS: "Oh wait," I'll say, digging into my elegant clutch with the exquisite pleats, "I have a coupon for that Ex-Lax!"
A few months ago, maybe a year (I'm as good with time as I am measurements), I mentioned to my friend that I saw plans for no-sew, DIY, blind treatments for windows. Like a roman shade (Roman?). They were so beautiful, I decided to make them. Someday. A few weeks ago, I walked into her house and there they were, mocking me with their craftiness.
Sure, there's a little irritation that she made them and I haven't yet. But mostly pride. Because they were my idea, after all. She might have done the grunt work but I had the concept, which is actually much more difficult. I imagine a guest over at her house (maybe we're having a party, a fundraiser to save the Mongolian weasel), admiring the shades. I touch the fabric lovingly and say "She made them physically but I made them emotionally." And then I will graciously accept the accolades.
Last week I decided to actually do one of the many plans I have bookmarked on my computer (a lazier Pinterest). One site promised a project for the non-experienced seamstress. So not a seamstress at all, really. Of course, I have a leg up on the rest of the readers. I can reattach a button like nobody's business.
This is what the directions looked like to me:
Get your fabric ready. Measure it to desired length. Now get your sewing machine ready. Make sure the bobbin is in the latent position, minding the thread (make sure it's organic chintz!). Now you simply make a loop stitch on the top, then add in a Wisconsin tie down. Baste down the side (switch your needle to a 3/16) and gather the ends, forming a Windsor knot formation - watch for puckering and reforming! Now you just finish the edges with sateen and there you have it. Easy Peasy! Start to finish before your coffee has cooled!
Obviously, my definition of non-experienced and theirs is very different.
I finally did find a no-sew project, a halter top. Even that I messed up though, cutting too much in some places and not enough in others. Of course, the process was peppered with questions.
Kate: "What are you doing?"
Me: "I'm making a halter top out of a men's t-shirt."
Jack: "That's a waste of a t-shirt."
Me: "Well, not really, since I'll be making a halter top out of it."
Jack: "Why don't you just buy a halter top?"
Me: "Because I can make one out of this t-shirt."
Jack: "It seems like it'd be easier to just buy one already made."
Me: "This is easy (grimace here because I cut too much off)."
Jack: "It doesn't look easy."
After awhile I tried it on and asked the kids how I looked.
Kate: "It should be purple."
Jack: "You look like a man."
Confidence boosted.
She makes really cute purses. If ever I have an occasion to use a clutch, it will be one of hers. They just won't work in my everyday life, though. I'll be in line at CVS: "Oh wait," I'll say, digging into my elegant clutch with the exquisite pleats, "I have a coupon for that Ex-Lax!"
A few months ago, maybe a year (I'm as good with time as I am measurements), I mentioned to my friend that I saw plans for no-sew, DIY, blind treatments for windows. Like a roman shade (Roman?). They were so beautiful, I decided to make them. Someday. A few weeks ago, I walked into her house and there they were, mocking me with their craftiness.
Sure, there's a little irritation that she made them and I haven't yet. But mostly pride. Because they were my idea, after all. She might have done the grunt work but I had the concept, which is actually much more difficult. I imagine a guest over at her house (maybe we're having a party, a fundraiser to save the Mongolian weasel), admiring the shades. I touch the fabric lovingly and say "She made them physically but I made them emotionally." And then I will graciously accept the accolades.
Last week I decided to actually do one of the many plans I have bookmarked on my computer (a lazier Pinterest). One site promised a project for the non-experienced seamstress. So not a seamstress at all, really. Of course, I have a leg up on the rest of the readers. I can reattach a button like nobody's business.
This is what the directions looked like to me:
Get your fabric ready. Measure it to desired length. Now get your sewing machine ready. Make sure the bobbin is in the latent position, minding the thread (make sure it's organic chintz!). Now you simply make a loop stitch on the top, then add in a Wisconsin tie down. Baste down the side (switch your needle to a 3/16) and gather the ends, forming a Windsor knot formation - watch for puckering and reforming! Now you just finish the edges with sateen and there you have it. Easy Peasy! Start to finish before your coffee has cooled!
Obviously, my definition of non-experienced and theirs is very different.
I finally did find a no-sew project, a halter top. Even that I messed up though, cutting too much in some places and not enough in others. Of course, the process was peppered with questions.
Kate: "What are you doing?"
Me: "I'm making a halter top out of a men's t-shirt."
Jack: "That's a waste of a t-shirt."
Me: "Well, not really, since I'll be making a halter top out of it."
Jack: "Why don't you just buy a halter top?"
Me: "Because I can make one out of this t-shirt."
Jack: "It seems like it'd be easier to just buy one already made."
Me: "This is easy (grimace here because I cut too much off)."
Jack: "It doesn't look easy."
After awhile I tried it on and asked the kids how I looked.
Kate: "It should be purple."
Jack: "You look like a man."
Confidence boosted.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Don't Ask Me For Directions
The other night we purchased a bookcase off of Craigslist to go in our homeschooling room. The original plan was for Matt to build a combination of bookcases and a murphy bed. After much consideration and deliberation (he changed his mind), it was decided that we would instead buy bookcases and a sleeper sofa. After a few days of looking, I found a bookcase. It was actually three bookcases that go together. One large middle bookcase and two skinnier side ones. Solid oak, custom made - with a couple oak tables to match.
I was the one who set the whole thing up. On the ad, the man wrote that the bookcases were 98" tall. Instead of thinking about it, I just Googled 98" (Note to self: teach kids to think). It came up as 7 ft. Ceilings are certainly taller than that - it fits! We bought the set, handshakes all around for such good decision making. After we got them, of course, bookcases seem taller than 7ft. I told Matt that the ad said 98." He thought for a moment and said "That's over 8 ft tall." Oh yeah...dividing by 12...right.
We looked at each other (around the formidable bookcases) and began to lift the heaviest one towards the house. For those of you who aren't familiar with our layout, the garage opens to a narrow hallway. Right next to the garage door to the house is the homeschooling door. In other words, it's a sharp corner. The bookcase is solid oak, 98" tall (that's 8 ft, this I now know) and maybe 2.5 ft wide. It's heavy. It's awkward. Our first attempt through the garage was unsuccessful. So we decide to back up and go around the garage through the pool fence and into the side door on the other end of the hallway. Tempting hernias, we huff and puff our way around the house. After a few attempts, it becomes painfully obvious that this bookcase isn't going to fit. Seriously, it's painful. Matt does what any man with woodworking tools and experience does: he saws off a section of the bookcase. Then we fit it in. The other two are close to the ceiling but since they're narrower, they pivot enough to slide into the room.
I tell this long, rather rambling story to illustrate a bigger problem: I have little to no idea how to measure things. How far is London? Could be 500 miles, could be 5,000. Drive to North Carolina? Um, maybe longer than 6 hours but shorter than 20? If the length I'm trying to figure out is anywhere near 5 ft, I imagine myself lying down (or actually do so) and try to work out how many of me would fit. Very scientific, I know.
On one of the tables we bought a screw had been stripped out of the leg. I told Matt I'd run to Ace Hardware and get the next size up while he's at work. Saves him time. I'm ridiculously thoughtful like that. And I had a list of stuff for him to do that evening. Matt made me promise to ask someone, preferably a man, to find me the next size. So I did and later that afternoon Matt called and asked how big the new screw was. I told him the difference between the two was maybe the length of my middle fingernail. I could hear his eyes rolling.
What really gets me is trying to document wound descriptions at work. I shudder to think of my documentation splashed on a large screen for a high profile case, scores of highly educated people reading something like this:
"Pt wound is approximately, oh I don't know, let's say 5 inches wide. Maybe as far from this keyboard I'm typing on to my water bottle. The length is probably as long as my pinky finger. On my right hand, not my left. For some reason, my left pinky finger seems shorter. Maybe it's just the angle. Or the fingernail is shorter. I'm not sure. Anyway, the wound is fairly deep. I could probably fit a couple oreos in it. Not that I would, of course. I would never do that. To oreos, that is."
I make sure to type 'approximately' numerous times so they know that I know that I don't know.
You know?
I was the one who set the whole thing up. On the ad, the man wrote that the bookcases were 98" tall. Instead of thinking about it, I just Googled 98" (Note to self: teach kids to think). It came up as 7 ft. Ceilings are certainly taller than that - it fits! We bought the set, handshakes all around for such good decision making. After we got them, of course, bookcases seem taller than 7ft. I told Matt that the ad said 98." He thought for a moment and said "That's over 8 ft tall." Oh yeah...dividing by 12...right.
We looked at each other (around the formidable bookcases) and began to lift the heaviest one towards the house. For those of you who aren't familiar with our layout, the garage opens to a narrow hallway. Right next to the garage door to the house is the homeschooling door. In other words, it's a sharp corner. The bookcase is solid oak, 98" tall (that's 8 ft, this I now know) and maybe 2.5 ft wide. It's heavy. It's awkward. Our first attempt through the garage was unsuccessful. So we decide to back up and go around the garage through the pool fence and into the side door on the other end of the hallway. Tempting hernias, we huff and puff our way around the house. After a few attempts, it becomes painfully obvious that this bookcase isn't going to fit. Seriously, it's painful. Matt does what any man with woodworking tools and experience does: he saws off a section of the bookcase. Then we fit it in. The other two are close to the ceiling but since they're narrower, they pivot enough to slide into the room.
I tell this long, rather rambling story to illustrate a bigger problem: I have little to no idea how to measure things. How far is London? Could be 500 miles, could be 5,000. Drive to North Carolina? Um, maybe longer than 6 hours but shorter than 20? If the length I'm trying to figure out is anywhere near 5 ft, I imagine myself lying down (or actually do so) and try to work out how many of me would fit. Very scientific, I know.
On one of the tables we bought a screw had been stripped out of the leg. I told Matt I'd run to Ace Hardware and get the next size up while he's at work. Saves him time. I'm ridiculously thoughtful like that. And I had a list of stuff for him to do that evening. Matt made me promise to ask someone, preferably a man, to find me the next size. So I did and later that afternoon Matt called and asked how big the new screw was. I told him the difference between the two was maybe the length of my middle fingernail. I could hear his eyes rolling.
What really gets me is trying to document wound descriptions at work. I shudder to think of my documentation splashed on a large screen for a high profile case, scores of highly educated people reading something like this:
"Pt wound is approximately, oh I don't know, let's say 5 inches wide. Maybe as far from this keyboard I'm typing on to my water bottle. The length is probably as long as my pinky finger. On my right hand, not my left. For some reason, my left pinky finger seems shorter. Maybe it's just the angle. Or the fingernail is shorter. I'm not sure. Anyway, the wound is fairly deep. I could probably fit a couple oreos in it. Not that I would, of course. I would never do that. To oreos, that is."
I make sure to type 'approximately' numerous times so they know that I know that I don't know.
You know?
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Things to Think On - August 2012
Things we've watched, things we've read...
- An Open Letter to the Scientific Community - really enjoyed reading this and the thought behind it. Science is overwhelmingly in favor of the Big Bang/Evolution (as it regards to new species development). The odd thing is, there are quite a few inconsistencies as well as unproven ideas that the entire theory hinges on. Science should be a continual quest for truth, even if it goes against the grain of what is universally accepted.
- College for All? - Mike Rowe (Dirty Jobs - a Matt and Jack favorite) is on a quest to bring awareness and respect to the very-much-needed blue collar job sector. Our relentless pursuit of college for everyone is creating a country where MBAs are a dime a dozen and plumbers are in short supply. I know that the prevalent view in our society is that college is absolute, regardless of what career a student desires. When I was in high school, everyone was 'college prep' - there was no question about it. The average college student changes majors 8 times, making me wonder if we aren't pushing something expensive and time-consuming on young people who don't really know what they want to do yet. As a society, we need to place equal importance on all careers, whether it's medicine/law/academia or trades like electricians and plumbing and stop blindly pushing every kid into college.
"In
high schools, the vocational arts have all but vanished. We've elevated the
importance of "higher education" to such a lofty perch, that all
other forms of knowledge are now labeled "alternative."
Millions of parents and kids see apprenticeships and on-the-job training
opportunities as "vocational
consolation prizes," best suited for those not cut out for a
four-year degree. And still, we talk about millions of "shovel ready"
jobs for a society that doesn't encourage people to pick up a shovel."
-Mike Rowe,
speaking to Congress
- Einstein's Big Idea - Jack's favorite new video. It's in two parts so it's long but well done and quite interesting. No surprise, but I knew hardly anything about E=MC2.
- This Awesome Lecrae Cover - we love this guy's music but it's more suited for playing tag. This is a beautiful cover and you can just sip your tea while listening.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Picture Books We Love
Some recent books we've enjoyed:
This book is pretty awesome. Plus, it written by a Frenchman, so it makes me feel all worldly and exotic. I bought it for Noah for his birthday, but the older kids hog it quite a bit. Very original, simple and fun. When Noah gets it, he opens it to the front cover (it has a black background with primary colored dots all over it) and he looks at it and says "Oh!" in a high-pitched baby voice. Sometimes I plant the book in his way so he'll see it and open it.
Few children's books make me laugh out loud (aloud?) but this one does. The illustrations are soft and clean, the story is funny. Katie got this from her Grandma and asked to read it all the time with variations to the title - "Can we read 'Where is my Hat?" or "The Hat" or "Who Has My Hat?"
I got this book from my sister-in-law for my birthday. It does have the word 'jackass' in the end, because the other character is a donkey. So if I read it to the kids (which they ask for often), I just say the word donkey. Words like that can easily be explained by "It means this but it's become a not-so-nice word in our society so we just don't say it." The kids readily accept it when they overhear a word in the grocery store or we read books like Tom Sawyer or something. This is a really cute book and I love the premise of it.
That's all the new books I can think of that we've read recently. Kate's not feeling well this morning so I have movies and books planned instead of school. She lounged around all morning then threw up and promptly feel asleep on the couch. I tend to dismiss their claims of sickness, especially when it coincides with being asked to empty the dishwasher. Throwing up validates it. When I was a kid, my mom told us we had to go to school unless we were throwing up. If we did throw up, she'd say "Don't you feel better now? Get to school."
Movies and books and Pooh Bear snuggled on the couch. That's our Tuesday.
This book is pretty awesome. Plus, it written by a Frenchman, so it makes me feel all worldly and exotic. I bought it for Noah for his birthday, but the older kids hog it quite a bit. Very original, simple and fun. When Noah gets it, he opens it to the front cover (it has a black background with primary colored dots all over it) and he looks at it and says "Oh!" in a high-pitched baby voice. Sometimes I plant the book in his way so he'll see it and open it.
Few children's books make me laugh out loud (aloud?) but this one does. The illustrations are soft and clean, the story is funny. Katie got this from her Grandma and asked to read it all the time with variations to the title - "Can we read 'Where is my Hat?" or "The Hat" or "Who Has My Hat?"
I got this book from my sister-in-law for my birthday. It does have the word 'jackass' in the end, because the other character is a donkey. So if I read it to the kids (which they ask for often), I just say the word donkey. Words like that can easily be explained by "It means this but it's become a not-so-nice word in our society so we just don't say it." The kids readily accept it when they overhear a word in the grocery store or we read books like Tom Sawyer or something. This is a really cute book and I love the premise of it.
That's all the new books I can think of that we've read recently. Kate's not feeling well this morning so I have movies and books planned instead of school. She lounged around all morning then threw up and promptly feel asleep on the couch. I tend to dismiss their claims of sickness, especially when it coincides with being asked to empty the dishwasher. Throwing up validates it. When I was a kid, my mom told us we had to go to school unless we were throwing up. If we did throw up, she'd say "Don't you feel better now? Get to school."
Movies and books and Pooh Bear snuggled on the couch. That's our Tuesday.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Why We Homeschool
Homeschooling never entered my mind as a reasonable education alternative before Jack was about 2. My best friend in elementary school was homeschooled and their family was the stereotypical 80's homeschoolers. Ultra-conservative and religious, they eschewed all things secular. TV, public school, music, books - all existed with the purpose of leading their children astray. Halloween was right out.
That was the view I had of homeschooling - extremists on the fringe of society. After we moved to our current town, though, I was dissatisfied with some things about the local school district. Since we don't live in Finland though, there's not a whole lot of other choices. Ether you spend the money and time (driving into the city) on a private school or you homeschool. Matt was the one who suggested it and I totally blew it off at first. I was not going to be one of those people, subjecting my poor kids to such an isolated and low level education. But Matt told me to at least research it, since I do that ad nauseam with most everything. The more I read, the more I liked it. And now I can't imagine not doing it.
Every homeschooling blog I've ever read has a post on why they homeschool. Because I know you were just burning up with desire to know why, I will tell you. In fact, I will list them. It's more schoolish that way.
Time
This is probably the biggest reason. I get time with my kids. My mom has a saying about raising kids - the days are long but the years are short. Every parent who has been a parent for more than a month will nod their head. I try to keep that in mind when the days are an endless cycle of schoolwork and housework, diaper changes and grocery trips. It's like Groundhog Day but with more laundry. And less Bill Murray.
I have time to really know them, to know how they think and what makes them sad and what makes them happy and what makes them worry. Every time they have a question, whether it's about the size of the sun or why people die, I'm here to figure it out with them.
In regards to school, it can take as long or as short as they need. Finished with math in 10 minutes - understand it well? It's done for the day. Move on to something else. Enjoying your math (yes, it happens - I am not making this up), go ahead to the next lesson. And the next if you'd like. There are no bells to follow, no schedule to keep (well, there's a loose one), no waiting on other people to finish up. What's the statistic? Out of every 60 minutes in school, only 10 is actually spent on actual teaching/learning. The rest is lost in class change, roll call, classroom discipline (I know, it's called management), etc. This way we can get lessons done and spend time doing other things. Whether it's swimming or building a fort or making pizza or playing Uno or reading about Mozart, we have the time.
It's like staying home when your kids are little (except homeschooling is like staying at home on steroids). It's tough. It can be a sacrifice of money, of sanity. But I remember what my mom says and store up memories of this time, the enjoyable and the stressful, the mundane and the thrilling because I know it will be over much too soon.
Individualized Education
One of the reasons homeschoolers do so well on tests and such is simply because of the nature of homeschooling. All of it is tailored to suit a family or a child's needs/interests. Homeschoolers do well regardless of the parent's level of education or if the parent is a certified teacher or not. Anytime you have a 1:1 (or possibly two if you have siblings similar in age), it's going to be better.
When Jack was a toddler, I actually had 2 or 3 incidences of public school elementary teachers tell me to homeschool him. My oldest just has unusual interests for a 7 year old and homeschooling allows him the freedom to pursue those. He loves human anatomy (especially the heart) and physics. He's seen just about every open heart surgery to be found on youtube. He can be who he is and do what he loves without fear of being teased for not liking Pokemon or Star Wars or something. Kate would probably do just fine in public school. But there is something to be said for pursuing your passion, whether it is heart surgery or Winnie the Pooh stories. I want my kids to love learning, to figure out who they are, even if it goes against the current of what is popular (on that note, I would be happy if they went against the current in most cases). If a reading program doesn't work, let's figure out what does. Or shelve it for awhile. If they want to learn Greek or sewing or chart constellations, I will happily oblige.
Academics
I would call our homeschool philosophy classical eclectic. I have done quite literally years of research on homeschooling, the whys of it (and why nots) and the different methods and curriculum. One of the best things about homeschooling is the flexibility to choose. I like the classical method (ala Well Trained Mind) and will implement a 4 year history cycle. There are so many, many resources out there. Math can be done with worksheets, textbooks, online courses, dvds, manipulatives or any combination that can be made whenever it's needed. It will be a rigorous curriculum that requires mastery. Classical literature, chronological history, foreign language and logic and debate will be part of daily routine. To be reasonable and thoughtful in pursuit of knowledge is the goal.
Rage Against the Machine (or Stick it to the Man)
I can't decide which phrase I like best for this. I simply don't like the public school bureaucracy. When we lived in Kodiak, I taught preschool and really enjoyed it. I was (and am) fascinated with education. But not the system of it, the process of it. I love how people learn and process information. I got my AA and began my Bachelor's for elementary ed. Somewhere along the way, though, I became disenchanted with the whole thing. A big reason was probably that I took my classes with adults who were already teachers and just needed continuing education credits. Most of them loved the teaching kids part but everything else that went along with it burned them out. We spent a lot of time in class debating certain funding issues or government policies or griping about red tape and school district big wigs. The shine was coming off my love of learning. There are lots of fabulous teachers that simply take that stuff in stride and love what they do no matter what or how long they've been doing it. And perhaps I just got a few overly bitter batches of peers. But I remember sitting in class one evening, listening to such a conversation, and thinking "This could be me in 30 years." And it was sobering. Homeschooling, in a lot of ways, is learning plain and simple. Of course, parents can make it like a mini-school and that's ok but for me, I just want them to learn. Simple. Without all the fuss and stress of testing a 5 year old, without the pressure to make the perfect cursive Q over and over for months on end (which I never made after third grade, thank you very much). Education just doesn't need to be bogged down with so much stuff. Here's an article that illustrates some problems with a government run education system:
http://www.schoolchoices.org/roo/harris1.htm
Faith
As you can see from above, I don't really homeschool for religious reasons. Sure, I sometimes bake my own bread and we don't have cable but we're just not that kind of homeschooling family. A lot of people in our area do homeschool for religious reasons and that's ok. But I don't view public school as evil or trying to brainwash my kids. Sure, it makes it easier in some ways as the curriculum goes through me and there's very little peer pressure issues but that's not the big picture. Following God is not as cut and dried as choosing to homeschool or not watching tv or choosing Chronicles of Narnia over Harry Potter (that's its own post). Faith is part of who were are as a family, regardless of how we educate. Homeschooling does give us the opportunity to weave what we believe into everyday life. Every book, every textbook, every video is a chance to discuss the information. Sometimes the views coincide with what we believe, sometimes they don't. We're able to talk about it, to debate, to work through ideas and compare them. In this way, the foundation of our lives is continually reinforced.
Finally, I homeschool for selfish reasons. Not only to I want to be around my kids a lot, I am enjoying this process for my own education. I went to fairly good public schools and learned all the usual things. But there were so many things I was interested in but didn't have the time to spend on them. World War II, the Great Depression, Roman History, Elizabethan England, anorexia, and Japanese samurai are all things I remember learning about on my own, in little chunks of time spent at the school library during breaks. When I got older and was a college student and a married adult, I truly enjoyed just being able to learn on my own. No tests, no time restraint and moving on to the next subject in two weeks, just learning. I've learned so many interesting things in the past 12 years since graduation. I'm all aflutter with anticipation for what can be discovered next. And then next. And on and on.
For a better written list of reasons, here's the link to an article written by homeschooling dad Greg Sherman (he and his wife were public school teachers):
http://www.homeeducator.com/FamilyTimes/articles/10-3article1.htm
That was the view I had of homeschooling - extremists on the fringe of society. After we moved to our current town, though, I was dissatisfied with some things about the local school district. Since we don't live in Finland though, there's not a whole lot of other choices. Ether you spend the money and time (driving into the city) on a private school or you homeschool. Matt was the one who suggested it and I totally blew it off at first. I was not going to be one of those people, subjecting my poor kids to such an isolated and low level education. But Matt told me to at least research it, since I do that ad nauseam with most everything. The more I read, the more I liked it. And now I can't imagine not doing it.
Every homeschooling blog I've ever read has a post on why they homeschool. Because I know you were just burning up with desire to know why, I will tell you. In fact, I will list them. It's more schoolish that way.
Time
This is probably the biggest reason. I get time with my kids. My mom has a saying about raising kids - the days are long but the years are short. Every parent who has been a parent for more than a month will nod their head. I try to keep that in mind when the days are an endless cycle of schoolwork and housework, diaper changes and grocery trips. It's like Groundhog Day but with more laundry. And less Bill Murray.
I have time to really know them, to know how they think and what makes them sad and what makes them happy and what makes them worry. Every time they have a question, whether it's about the size of the sun or why people die, I'm here to figure it out with them.
In regards to school, it can take as long or as short as they need. Finished with math in 10 minutes - understand it well? It's done for the day. Move on to something else. Enjoying your math (yes, it happens - I am not making this up), go ahead to the next lesson. And the next if you'd like. There are no bells to follow, no schedule to keep (well, there's a loose one), no waiting on other people to finish up. What's the statistic? Out of every 60 minutes in school, only 10 is actually spent on actual teaching/learning. The rest is lost in class change, roll call, classroom discipline (I know, it's called management), etc. This way we can get lessons done and spend time doing other things. Whether it's swimming or building a fort or making pizza or playing Uno or reading about Mozart, we have the time.
It's like staying home when your kids are little (except homeschooling is like staying at home on steroids). It's tough. It can be a sacrifice of money, of sanity. But I remember what my mom says and store up memories of this time, the enjoyable and the stressful, the mundane and the thrilling because I know it will be over much too soon.
Individualized Education
One of the reasons homeschoolers do so well on tests and such is simply because of the nature of homeschooling. All of it is tailored to suit a family or a child's needs/interests. Homeschoolers do well regardless of the parent's level of education or if the parent is a certified teacher or not. Anytime you have a 1:1 (or possibly two if you have siblings similar in age), it's going to be better.
When Jack was a toddler, I actually had 2 or 3 incidences of public school elementary teachers tell me to homeschool him. My oldest just has unusual interests for a 7 year old and homeschooling allows him the freedom to pursue those. He loves human anatomy (especially the heart) and physics. He's seen just about every open heart surgery to be found on youtube. He can be who he is and do what he loves without fear of being teased for not liking Pokemon or Star Wars or something. Kate would probably do just fine in public school. But there is something to be said for pursuing your passion, whether it is heart surgery or Winnie the Pooh stories. I want my kids to love learning, to figure out who they are, even if it goes against the current of what is popular (on that note, I would be happy if they went against the current in most cases). If a reading program doesn't work, let's figure out what does. Or shelve it for awhile. If they want to learn Greek or sewing or chart constellations, I will happily oblige.
Academics
I would call our homeschool philosophy classical eclectic. I have done quite literally years of research on homeschooling, the whys of it (and why nots) and the different methods and curriculum. One of the best things about homeschooling is the flexibility to choose. I like the classical method (ala Well Trained Mind) and will implement a 4 year history cycle. There are so many, many resources out there. Math can be done with worksheets, textbooks, online courses, dvds, manipulatives or any combination that can be made whenever it's needed. It will be a rigorous curriculum that requires mastery. Classical literature, chronological history, foreign language and logic and debate will be part of daily routine. To be reasonable and thoughtful in pursuit of knowledge is the goal.
Rage Against the Machine (or Stick it to the Man)
I can't decide which phrase I like best for this. I simply don't like the public school bureaucracy. When we lived in Kodiak, I taught preschool and really enjoyed it. I was (and am) fascinated with education. But not the system of it, the process of it. I love how people learn and process information. I got my AA and began my Bachelor's for elementary ed. Somewhere along the way, though, I became disenchanted with the whole thing. A big reason was probably that I took my classes with adults who were already teachers and just needed continuing education credits. Most of them loved the teaching kids part but everything else that went along with it burned them out. We spent a lot of time in class debating certain funding issues or government policies or griping about red tape and school district big wigs. The shine was coming off my love of learning. There are lots of fabulous teachers that simply take that stuff in stride and love what they do no matter what or how long they've been doing it. And perhaps I just got a few overly bitter batches of peers. But I remember sitting in class one evening, listening to such a conversation, and thinking "This could be me in 30 years." And it was sobering. Homeschooling, in a lot of ways, is learning plain and simple. Of course, parents can make it like a mini-school and that's ok but for me, I just want them to learn. Simple. Without all the fuss and stress of testing a 5 year old, without the pressure to make the perfect cursive Q over and over for months on end (which I never made after third grade, thank you very much). Education just doesn't need to be bogged down with so much stuff. Here's an article that illustrates some problems with a government run education system:
http://www.schoolchoices.org/roo/harris1.htm
Faith
As you can see from above, I don't really homeschool for religious reasons. Sure, I sometimes bake my own bread and we don't have cable but we're just not that kind of homeschooling family. A lot of people in our area do homeschool for religious reasons and that's ok. But I don't view public school as evil or trying to brainwash my kids. Sure, it makes it easier in some ways as the curriculum goes through me and there's very little peer pressure issues but that's not the big picture. Following God is not as cut and dried as choosing to homeschool or not watching tv or choosing Chronicles of Narnia over Harry Potter (that's its own post). Faith is part of who were are as a family, regardless of how we educate. Homeschooling does give us the opportunity to weave what we believe into everyday life. Every book, every textbook, every video is a chance to discuss the information. Sometimes the views coincide with what we believe, sometimes they don't. We're able to talk about it, to debate, to work through ideas and compare them. In this way, the foundation of our lives is continually reinforced.
Finally, I homeschool for selfish reasons. Not only to I want to be around my kids a lot, I am enjoying this process for my own education. I went to fairly good public schools and learned all the usual things. But there were so many things I was interested in but didn't have the time to spend on them. World War II, the Great Depression, Roman History, Elizabethan England, anorexia, and Japanese samurai are all things I remember learning about on my own, in little chunks of time spent at the school library during breaks. When I got older and was a college student and a married adult, I truly enjoyed just being able to learn on my own. No tests, no time restraint and moving on to the next subject in two weeks, just learning. I've learned so many interesting things in the past 12 years since graduation. I'm all aflutter with anticipation for what can be discovered next. And then next. And on and on.
For a better written list of reasons, here's the link to an article written by homeschooling dad Greg Sherman (he and his wife were public school teachers):
http://www.homeeducator.com/FamilyTimes/articles/10-3article1.htm
Monday, August 6, 2012
Confessions of a Bibliophile
I have a vivid memory of an incident that happened in my 7th grade math class. For the first couple months of class, I would hide whatever book I was reading behind my textbook. Clever, I know. The math teacher (I don't remember her name only that she also coached track and didn't wear the same outfit twice that year) got exasperated with me and finally said (quite loudly and in front of the class) "School is not the place for reading!"
I've always been a reader. From what I could tell, I was taught using the look-say method that has since been canned in place of phonics. I say this because I remember being taught the Dick and Jane books in kindergarten. I don't really remember learning to read or practicing. When I was in 5th or 6th grade, the school tested everyone's reading ability and I was told that mine was at a college level. Immediately my respect for college students dropped because I read a lot of Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary, Goosebumps and Sweet Valley High and if that was college reading then something was terribly wrong with American college kids.
All through upper elementary and middle school, I got chastised quite a bit for reading in class, reading while walking in the hallway to class and during lunch. And then in high school, teachers just stopped caring about that. One told me "As long as you get good grades, I don't care what you do." Ok then. Read To Kill A Mockingbird during a lecture in American Government? Yes, thank you, I believe I will.
These days I still love to read but it is, of course, hampered by other things. Pesky things like laundry, cooking, and the raising of small humans to adulthood.
I have so many books that are on my list to be read. Stacks of them.
Exhibit A:
After I took a picture of this stack, I remembered I forgot to add The Elegance of the Hedgehog and then I discovered my copy of Eat, Pray, Love (which I also think of as Eat, Drink, Pray but that is probably in the self-help section. Or possibly memoir.) which for some reason reminded me that I never got around to finishing Atlas Shrugged, a veritable sin in the eyes of my father and sister. This may be 1/3 of the the books I plan on reading. Or 1/10. As you may recall, I never actually paid attention in math class. Most of it didn't make sense. Why were so many people getting on trains and passing each other anyway? The x was always getting lost and I was always dividing things by pi.
And people wonder why math is so unpopular.
My stack of books keeps getting bigger and bigger for one reason.
Exhibit B:
This book right here. I both love it and hate it. I love it because it's well-written, humorous, interesting, thought-provoking and surprising. I hate it because it's taking me so long to get through it. The writing is not laborious, I don't have to keep a dictionary nearby. It's just that some ideas in it are so momentous and new to me that I often have to set down the book and stare off into space, giving my brain time to absorb what I just read. Sometimes I'll read sections of the book aloud. Kate will pay attention for a minute and then go back to coloring or flipping through a book. Matt's eyes glaze over after about 10 seconds (which may be one of three things. Either he doesn't care about that subject. Or he hates me reading long passages out of books anyway - a defense mechanism developed over 11 years of being married to an avid reader who likes to share. Or it's simply the sound of my voice. His brain shuts down after hearing me babble away for awhile. Could be a combination of all 3...). Jack is the only one who likes to join me on my quest to know things. He's on his own quest, this boy after my own heart. In fact, after reading aloud sections to him about atoms and electrons and such, he has told many people what we've discovered. His little buddy over lunch during a playdate. An older gentleman at the bank. My mom. They're all so appreciative, I'm sure. On the surface, the looks they give me seem to be filled with confusion and then boredom. Really, though, I know that those looks say "Great job parenting." Or possibly "You're a fantastic person." And also "You're really pretty."
It's been about 6 weeks and I'm on page 256. Even as I type that, I am filled with shame. Which is ridiculous, really. Where's the race? Who cares how long it takes me to read a book? Why can't I just read for enjoyment and self-betterment? Am I worried that the President of the League of Above-Average Readers is going to deliver a letter, threaten to take away my membership and hand me a first grade reader instead, sneering that such books are more appropriate for people like myself?
Now I'm nervous.
Reading for pleasure is stressing me out.
I've always been a reader. From what I could tell, I was taught using the look-say method that has since been canned in place of phonics. I say this because I remember being taught the Dick and Jane books in kindergarten. I don't really remember learning to read or practicing. When I was in 5th or 6th grade, the school tested everyone's reading ability and I was told that mine was at a college level. Immediately my respect for college students dropped because I read a lot of Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary, Goosebumps and Sweet Valley High and if that was college reading then something was terribly wrong with American college kids.
All through upper elementary and middle school, I got chastised quite a bit for reading in class, reading while walking in the hallway to class and during lunch. And then in high school, teachers just stopped caring about that. One told me "As long as you get good grades, I don't care what you do." Ok then. Read To Kill A Mockingbird during a lecture in American Government? Yes, thank you, I believe I will.
These days I still love to read but it is, of course, hampered by other things. Pesky things like laundry, cooking, and the raising of small humans to adulthood.
I have so many books that are on my list to be read. Stacks of them.
Exhibit A:
After I took a picture of this stack, I remembered I forgot to add The Elegance of the Hedgehog and then I discovered my copy of Eat, Pray, Love (which I also think of as Eat, Drink, Pray but that is probably in the self-help section. Or possibly memoir.) which for some reason reminded me that I never got around to finishing Atlas Shrugged, a veritable sin in the eyes of my father and sister. This may be 1/3 of the the books I plan on reading. Or 1/10. As you may recall, I never actually paid attention in math class. Most of it didn't make sense. Why were so many people getting on trains and passing each other anyway? The x was always getting lost and I was always dividing things by pi.
And people wonder why math is so unpopular.
My stack of books keeps getting bigger and bigger for one reason.
Exhibit B:
This book right here. I both love it and hate it. I love it because it's well-written, humorous, interesting, thought-provoking and surprising. I hate it because it's taking me so long to get through it. The writing is not laborious, I don't have to keep a dictionary nearby. It's just that some ideas in it are so momentous and new to me that I often have to set down the book and stare off into space, giving my brain time to absorb what I just read. Sometimes I'll read sections of the book aloud. Kate will pay attention for a minute and then go back to coloring or flipping through a book. Matt's eyes glaze over after about 10 seconds (which may be one of three things. Either he doesn't care about that subject. Or he hates me reading long passages out of books anyway - a defense mechanism developed over 11 years of being married to an avid reader who likes to share. Or it's simply the sound of my voice. His brain shuts down after hearing me babble away for awhile. Could be a combination of all 3...). Jack is the only one who likes to join me on my quest to know things. He's on his own quest, this boy after my own heart. In fact, after reading aloud sections to him about atoms and electrons and such, he has told many people what we've discovered. His little buddy over lunch during a playdate. An older gentleman at the bank. My mom. They're all so appreciative, I'm sure. On the surface, the looks they give me seem to be filled with confusion and then boredom. Really, though, I know that those looks say "Great job parenting." Or possibly "You're a fantastic person." And also "You're really pretty."
It's been about 6 weeks and I'm on page 256. Even as I type that, I am filled with shame. Which is ridiculous, really. Where's the race? Who cares how long it takes me to read a book? Why can't I just read for enjoyment and self-betterment? Am I worried that the President of the League of Above-Average Readers is going to deliver a letter, threaten to take away my membership and hand me a first grade reader instead, sneering that such books are more appropriate for people like myself?
Now I'm nervous.
Reading for pleasure is stressing me out.
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