I don't have to have it all figured out. My keys may be hidden right now. But God knows where they are.
Showing posts with label Homeschooling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Homeschooling. Show all posts
Friday, January 18, 2013
YOU MUST CHILL.
When I start freaking out about educating my child, I try to think about God grabbing me and having this conversation with me:
I don't have to have it all figured out. My keys may be hidden right now. But God knows where they are.
I don't have to have it all figured out. My keys may be hidden right now. But God knows where they are.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Week 2: Crazy Huge History Timeline
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| The Adams SynChronological Map of History |
When I ordered this timeline, I was expecting it to be about 1/4 of this size. Great Googly Moogly.
But it is amazing. Look at those colors! Look at all that information! I feel faint. One of the things that got me excited about homeschooling to begin with, was getting to teach history. I loooooooooooove history. Well... that's sorta weird to say, since so many awful events have occurred throughout history. I guess I looooooooooooove learning about history.
I was an Art major in college, and I almost minored in Art History. Oh Art History, I love you so. You little minx, you. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew I was already bound to be unemployable with that Art major hanging over me, and adding Art History would have just pushed me over the edge. Instead, I minored in the the vague Communications, where I took courses like "The Vietnam War Throughout Film" and "The History of Animation." You know, so much more practical. Eye roll. Whatever. At least I didn't minor in Dramatic Set Design.
Anyway, back to my hot and heavy love affair with history. Smoochie smooch. Ironically, my passion was once nearly quenched when I was 20 years old and studying abroad in Florence, Italy, of all places. First of all, in Italy, the art itself can almost send you into sensory overload. Sometimes, it is just too. much. You just want to turn it off and watch a coat rack for awhile. But even their coat racks are beautiful, so you can't. That was a small part of my problem.
But the real problem--the ghastly monster who almost destroyed my love of both art and history--was named Helen. At my art school, the only professor of Art History was a certifiable OCD nutjob. I've blocked her last name from my memory, but her first name is stuck in there forever... Helen Helen Helllllllllllllen. Helen, an American expat in Italy, had been at that school for many many years, and it pains me to think of how many art lovers this woman probably destroyed over time. In class, we flipped through art slides at lightening speed, unable to keep up with the dry and boring facts that Helen flatly rattled off. On field trips, we literally ran from church to cathedral to museum, barely glancing at monumental works of art, while a trail of spewed facts jabbed into our skulls. As students, we were constantly scolded for drifting off, not "appreciating" the art enough or trying to listen to other tour guides. Some students took to sneaking off to drink wine in small Italian villages we visited. I finally tucked headphones inside my cap, listening to old "Police" songs in an attempt to drown out the pratterings of Helen. I will forever think of angrily staring at Renaissance paintings in freezing cold churches when I hear "Don't Stand So Close To Me." When I was actually reprimanded for spending too much time in "awe" in the Sistine Chapel (approximately 15 minutes), I almost snapped. I went and hid behind some scaffolding to keep from having a professor verbal smackdown in the middle of the Vatican. I look back and cannot believe that, because of one mentally ill teacher, my love of Art History was almost ruined.
But no, Helen, did not ultimately kill my joy. It took awhile to recover... but I think I am ready to jump back in and study some great art and some fascinating history.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
The Reading of the Books
I think I have read every homeschooling book at our library in the past four months.
Prior to this school year, my homeschool book list consisted of one reading of The Well-Trained Mind by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer, which I read the summer before Anna started kindergarten. It resulted in poor little Ellen mentally hyperventilating. Maybe physically, too. Can't remember. All I remember is agreeing with most of what was in the book, thinking "Why in the blazes am I even considering something like this?" and returning it with great speed to my friend, Emily (who did end up classically homeschooling her twins.)
Now?
I am definitely in a different place. I have been devouring books about homeschooling and education. I want to underline underline underline (but I won't, because hey, I am a good little library patron.) I disagree with some stuff, of course. But I find myself saying, "yes yes YES" more often than naught.
I think the difference is dealing with the current public school system for 2 1/2 years. (Again, I want to say that my issues are not with the teachers. Anna's teachers have been devoted, caring and bright. It's the system which lacks my fondness.) But that is probably another very long blog post.
In the meantime, here are a few books that have inspired me:
Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto
Not a homeschool book, I suppose. But I don't see how you couldn't be considering homeschooling after reading this book. I have been dealing with and scratching my head at the public school system for years now (both my own schooling and then my daughter's experience), but I haven't really been able to figure out what the core problem is. Gatto, a 30-year veteran teacher in New York City, finally pinned it for me. Light bulb moment. The deep dark problem with our schools is not anything that curriculum reform and tinkering can possibly fix. The problem with our country is that we have replaced true family and community with false family and community (he calls them "networks") and the public school system is culprit numero uno. In his words, we do not need more school. We need less. Less money thrown at the school, less hours away from home, more time with family, more parents acting unselfishly and pouring into their children and their lifelong learning... since I don't see that happening anytime soon, the search for alternative educational solutions becomes pretty clear.
100 Top Picks by Cathy Duffy
This book helped me gain confidence that I could homeschool. It is a guide to homeschool curriculum, but it is more. She helps you pinpoint your educational philosophy or "bent" (Classical and Charlotte Mason here) so that you can pick out the curriculum that would work best for your family. Then she gives you some fantastic choices for curriculum. It was reading this book that got me excited about what we were actually going to learn. Before I read this book, I was just looking at a boxed Abeka curriculum, thinking, "Oh, I guess this will be fine. We can muddle through it. I guess." For some families, a boxed curriculum is perfect. But I knew that it would not be right for us. I am kinda a rebel at heart and I knew that boxed was gonna make me cranky. This book opened me up to a world of possibilities.
A Year of Learning Dangerously by Quinn Cummings
Quinn Cummings is a former Oscar-nominated child actress turned stay-at-home mom who blogs at The QC Report. After her daughter's Los Angeles-based education was not going so well, she decided to homeschool. The book is her first year journey. They try (or at least explore) online public school (BIG fail), radical unschooling, homeschool playgroups, Christian curriculum fairs, the Gothard movement, homeschool proms and classical education (albeit, very briefly.) I didn't not particularly care for the sections where Quinn "secretly" attends conventions around the country, going so far as to dress like the homeschooling group in question. She attends the conventions under the guise of being genuinely interested in their beliefs, but honestly, she comes across as voyeuristic, creepy and well, like she knows that she is going to try to get a book deal and her "spywork" will make her story more interesting to publishers. But the book is worth a read just to see that other moms freak out and cry in the laundry room (which I highly suspect will happen to me next week.)
A School Like Mine by Unicef
It might seem odd that I would put this on my list, but I happened to check it out of the library when I was beginning my beginning my decision-making process. It had an impact on me. Growing up in the U.S. of A., I was given the impression that our country did schooling best and that was just the way it was. Public school (Maybe private school if you were rich. Or Catholic school if you were Catholic. Other than that, you went to public school K-12.) But as I scanned this fascinating book (which shows how children are educated around the world), it occurred to me that there is no one correct way to educate a child. (I found myself particularly turned off by French schools, a tightly government-controlled system in which the children are in school or doing homework most of the day and cannot even bring their own lunch to school. All religious teaching and symbols are banned from the schools, and parents often send their children into the school system by age 3. Pretty much exactly what Gatto warns the world against.)
The Well-Trained Mind by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer
Okay, I must admit it. I love this book. It is the Classical Education Playbook for the rest of us. What is interesting is, after rereading it, I noticed how eerily the authors' 1973 public school experience ended up echoing my own. For the past 2 1/2 years, I have been scratching my head at my daughter's lessons and the chaotic order in which everything is taught. For instance, my 7-year old daughter sat at the kitchen table in tears because she had to write out a paragraph about some twaddle book with no plot. However, she was never taught handwriting. Nor was she ever taught the mechanics of a sentence. She doesn't know subjects or verbs yet. I realized that she desperately needed learning tools. Enter classical education. Classical education makes sense to me now. It understands how real learning happens. The Well-Trained Mind is a God-send. It tells you exactly what to teach and the why and the how. Now that I have seen what the lack of order creates, this book is a breath of fresh air. I am now a groupie.
And lastly, here are books that I really really wanted to like but left me "meh.":
The Read Aloud Handbook by Jim Trelease
Granted, it's worth a read for the book list in the back. But I was pretty disappointed with the rest of it. So many people rave about this book! I guess it was kinda "Duh" for me. The whole book could be summed up in a sentence: Read to your children because it will turn them into readers and that is a good thing. Well... duh. But I've been reading to Anna since she was one, and my parents read to me, and it is just a given in my mind that you should read to your child. Maybe that's a new concept to some people?
The Three R's by Ruth Beechick
I suspect that I will come to appreciate this book later. I think that the author wanted to instill confidence for the newbie homeschooler-- "Oh, it's so easy. The three R's. You know how to read. So just follow these simple techniques and blammo, you are teaching your kid." But it had the opposite effect on me. I felt overwhelmed. I need more hand holding, more lists, more planning right now in my journey. Maybe I will be more relaxed to try this method with Noah. Maybe not. I am rather intense.
Prior to this school year, my homeschool book list consisted of one reading of The Well-Trained Mind by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer, which I read the summer before Anna started kindergarten. It resulted in poor little Ellen mentally hyperventilating. Maybe physically, too. Can't remember. All I remember is agreeing with most of what was in the book, thinking "Why in the blazes am I even considering something like this?" and returning it with great speed to my friend, Emily (who did end up classically homeschooling her twins.)
Now?
I am definitely in a different place. I have been devouring books about homeschooling and education. I want to underline underline underline (but I won't, because hey, I am a good little library patron.) I disagree with some stuff, of course. But I find myself saying, "yes yes YES" more often than naught.
I think the difference is dealing with the current public school system for 2 1/2 years. (Again, I want to say that my issues are not with the teachers. Anna's teachers have been devoted, caring and bright. It's the system which lacks my fondness.) But that is probably another very long blog post.
In the meantime, here are a few books that have inspired me:
Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto
Not a homeschool book, I suppose. But I don't see how you couldn't be considering homeschooling after reading this book. I have been dealing with and scratching my head at the public school system for years now (both my own schooling and then my daughter's experience), but I haven't really been able to figure out what the core problem is. Gatto, a 30-year veteran teacher in New York City, finally pinned it for me. Light bulb moment. The deep dark problem with our schools is not anything that curriculum reform and tinkering can possibly fix. The problem with our country is that we have replaced true family and community with false family and community (he calls them "networks") and the public school system is culprit numero uno. In his words, we do not need more school. We need less. Less money thrown at the school, less hours away from home, more time with family, more parents acting unselfishly and pouring into their children and their lifelong learning... since I don't see that happening anytime soon, the search for alternative educational solutions becomes pretty clear.
100 Top Picks by Cathy Duffy
This book helped me gain confidence that I could homeschool. It is a guide to homeschool curriculum, but it is more. She helps you pinpoint your educational philosophy or "bent" (Classical and Charlotte Mason here) so that you can pick out the curriculum that would work best for your family. Then she gives you some fantastic choices for curriculum. It was reading this book that got me excited about what we were actually going to learn. Before I read this book, I was just looking at a boxed Abeka curriculum, thinking, "Oh, I guess this will be fine. We can muddle through it. I guess." For some families, a boxed curriculum is perfect. But I knew that it would not be right for us. I am kinda a rebel at heart and I knew that boxed was gonna make me cranky. This book opened me up to a world of possibilities.
A Year of Learning Dangerously by Quinn Cummings
Quinn Cummings is a former Oscar-nominated child actress turned stay-at-home mom who blogs at The QC Report. After her daughter's Los Angeles-based education was not going so well, she decided to homeschool. The book is her first year journey. They try (or at least explore) online public school (BIG fail), radical unschooling, homeschool playgroups, Christian curriculum fairs, the Gothard movement, homeschool proms and classical education (albeit, very briefly.) I didn't not particularly care for the sections where Quinn "secretly" attends conventions around the country, going so far as to dress like the homeschooling group in question. She attends the conventions under the guise of being genuinely interested in their beliefs, but honestly, she comes across as voyeuristic, creepy and well, like she knows that she is going to try to get a book deal and her "spywork" will make her story more interesting to publishers. But the book is worth a read just to see that other moms freak out and cry in the laundry room (which I highly suspect will happen to me next week.)
A School Like Mine by Unicef
It might seem odd that I would put this on my list, but I happened to check it out of the library when I was beginning my beginning my decision-making process. It had an impact on me. Growing up in the U.S. of A., I was given the impression that our country did schooling best and that was just the way it was. Public school (Maybe private school if you were rich. Or Catholic school if you were Catholic. Other than that, you went to public school K-12.) But as I scanned this fascinating book (which shows how children are educated around the world), it occurred to me that there is no one correct way to educate a child. (I found myself particularly turned off by French schools, a tightly government-controlled system in which the children are in school or doing homework most of the day and cannot even bring their own lunch to school. All religious teaching and symbols are banned from the schools, and parents often send their children into the school system by age 3. Pretty much exactly what Gatto warns the world against.)
and I am gonna include it (oh, the irony)...
The Well-Trained Mind by Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer
Okay, I must admit it. I love this book. It is the Classical Education Playbook for the rest of us. What is interesting is, after rereading it, I noticed how eerily the authors' 1973 public school experience ended up echoing my own. For the past 2 1/2 years, I have been scratching my head at my daughter's lessons and the chaotic order in which everything is taught. For instance, my 7-year old daughter sat at the kitchen table in tears because she had to write out a paragraph about some twaddle book with no plot. However, she was never taught handwriting. Nor was she ever taught the mechanics of a sentence. She doesn't know subjects or verbs yet. I realized that she desperately needed learning tools. Enter classical education. Classical education makes sense to me now. It understands how real learning happens. The Well-Trained Mind is a God-send. It tells you exactly what to teach and the why and the how. Now that I have seen what the lack of order creates, this book is a breath of fresh air. I am now a groupie.
And lastly, here are books that I really really wanted to like but left me "meh.":
The Read Aloud Handbook by Jim Trelease
Granted, it's worth a read for the book list in the back. But I was pretty disappointed with the rest of it. So many people rave about this book! I guess it was kinda "Duh" for me. The whole book could be summed up in a sentence: Read to your children because it will turn them into readers and that is a good thing. Well... duh. But I've been reading to Anna since she was one, and my parents read to me, and it is just a given in my mind that you should read to your child. Maybe that's a new concept to some people?
The Three R's by Ruth Beechick
I suspect that I will come to appreciate this book later. I think that the author wanted to instill confidence for the newbie homeschooler-- "Oh, it's so easy. The three R's. You know how to read. So just follow these simple techniques and blammo, you are teaching your kid." But it had the opposite effect on me. I felt overwhelmed. I need more hand holding, more lists, more planning right now in my journey. Maybe I will be more relaxed to try this method with Noah. Maybe not. I am rather intense.
Monday, December 3, 2012
It's Official
Today, I walked into the superintendent's office and turned in my Notice of Intent to Homeschool.
It felt good.
It's going to be a challenge but we are doing what we need to do.
It felt good.
It's going to be a challenge but we are doing what we need to do.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Expectations
Since I am still in my pre-homeschool planning phase, I have been trying to keep some of my expectations in check. The thing is, this new homeschool gig is going to be a total "paradigm shift" for me (even though I totally hate that term. It's so trendy Stephen Covey 1990's. But begrudgingly, I will admit that my paradigm is about to be majorly shifted.) I can plan and plan and plan right here and now, but the slushie of reality will hit the fan in January. I keep making these little lists to help myself, mainly just so I have something to look back on in the future to see if we've made any progress whatsoever. Maybe my expectations will be way off. Maybe I will be good at some things that surprise me. Maybe some dreaded issues won't be so bad after all. Or maybe I will be forced to undergo another dadgum paradigm shift in a year.
Stuff I Am Excited About:
Stuff I Am Kinda Neutral About:
Stuff I Am Dreading:
Stuff I Suspect Will Be A Struggle For Me:
I need to remember, if all else fails, to go laminate something.
Stuff I Am Excited About:
- Laminating!
- Lesson planning!
- Organizing!
- Finding learning material!
- Teaching art!
- Read Aloud Books!
- Researching curriculum!
- History!
- Learning new stuff together!
- Laminating some more!
Stuff I Am Kinda Neutral About:
- The actual teaching part
Stuff I Am Dreading:
- Science experiments
- Glitter and paint and glue on my floors
- Piles of laundry and dirty dishes that still need to conquered, in addition to the school stuff
- Trying to teach with a toddler underfoot.
- Meeting the needs of a veeeeeeeery social and active little girl.
- Our first throwdown about Math. It's coming. I know it.
- Writing coercion (she hates to write)
- Cabin fever
- Teaching with PMS (pray for us all, seriously)
Stuff I Suspect Will Be A Struggle For Me:
- Not worrying about whether we are "on track" with public school
- Not worrying about whether she will bomb her SATs ten years from now
- Not worrying about whether I am doing enough and she should be learning Latin and underwater basketweaving
- Setting my expectations of myself (and my home) too high
- Staying on task
- Trying to find a homeschool circle of friends in which to fit my weird little self
- The late afternoon cranky funk
- Grocery shopping
- Asking for help
I need to remember, if all else fails, to go laminate something.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
The Why (and The Why Me) Part I
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| Anna, 2010, first day of Kindergarten |
First off, let me just say that this was not the plan, this homeschooling business. My children were never going to do anything but public school.
I come from a long line of teachers. (And interestingly, in recent years, I come from a long line of disillusioned, slightly embittered teachers. Another story, though.) My mother and both her sisters were teachers, and both of my grandfathers taught at the university level. (The rest of the aunts and uncles gravitated towards music education, ministry and selling books. We are not a wealthy bunch, we.) I, in fact, left for college expecting to become a high school English teacher, only to get seduced by Mistress Art. In my family, you went to public school, you respected your teachers (even if they stunk), you learned what they taught, you got good grades and then you went off to college.
Homeschooling was not considered. Homeschooling was a radical, ridiculous thing, and we were not radical, ridiculous people. Homeschooling was something that crazy people did, who wanted to go off grid and never have any time to pursue their own personal passions and interests. Homeschooling was just... out of the question.
I started having my public school mental "meltdowns" when Anna went to Kindergarten. She went to an awesome in-home preschool-- the teacher was Reggio Emilia in her approach, which I loved for preschool. Very hands-on, very loving-- I basically wanted to stay and do preschool myself every day when I dropped her off. And I am so very glad she had a year to learn and play and be an age-appropriate kid, because when I first walked into her Kindergarten class, I wanted to cry. When we walked in, she looked up at me and said with distress, "There are no toys." And there weren't. No play kitchen. No art station. No blocks. Nothing like the Kindergarten of my yesteryears.
I was a dutiful public school mom that year. I volunteered my booty off (and frustratingly only met about 3 other moms), examined all of her classwork with interest (which I found to be a great deal of busywork and often found myself wondering, "Couldn't they just play with playdough?"), helped Anna with her much-hated homework (whilst muttering to myself, "Why on earth does a kindergartener need homework?") and I got to know her teacher pretty well. I ended the year rather drained and feeling, "Meh."
The next year was more of the same, but with much less in-school involvement on my part, due to having a much-longed-for newborn at home. Again, I liked her teacher. Anna seemed decently happy. I still found myself constantly questioning the amount of busywork. I was still feeling isolated as a mom-- both to what my daughter was actually doing during the day and with the school system in general. End of school year: more "Meh."
Around this time, some neighborhood girls began treating my daughter poorly. I was already thinking we needed a change, so I decided to switch her from the small town school she was currently in, to a much larger school system with better testing "scores."
Well.
It has been an interesting four months, to say the least. Within a few weeks, I went from the subject of homeschooling constantly being on the cusp of my brain to having it engulf me. I am not going to say that moving Anna to her new school was a disaster and a mistake. It wasn't. Rather, it fully awakened me to some big problems and my unhappiness with public school in general. We might have coasted for a few more years in her previous school, but I believe I would have arrived at this same point... just further off-track from where we want our daughter to be and with possibly more damage to undo.
I don't want to go into great depth (it makes my brain hurt too much at this point) but some of the waterfall of issues leading us to homeschooling are: 1) she really wasn't doing well academically and I had no clue and would STILL not have a clue had I not started digging and questioning and making a nuisance of myself. 2) uncomfortable lack of communication with teacher and school. 3) more and more and more busywork. 4) bullying on playground and bus. 5) more requests for my daughter's time away from family ("Oh, we will catch her up with some early morning computer busywork!" Uh, because the schools dropped the ball in the first place? Sigh.)
... and the biggest reason, I have just seen a change in my daughter. I don't like it. I don't think she is happy (would you be happy getting punched in the nose on the bus?) and I have seen a definite increase in a sour home attitude. I don't want to backtrack for the teen years. I don't want her to get so far away from us spiritually that we don't want her around. I see that so often with kids and it breaks my heart. It has to change now.
The funny thing is that, and you are probably going to roll your eyes here, but my biggest hang-up to pulling the homeschool trigger was... my mom. I was dreading telling her and getting a fretted lecture about ruining my daughter. I love my mom and she is usually right about most things and I value her opinion. I really needed that blessing. But whenever I have brought up homeschooling in the past, I get the raised eyebrow. Amazingly, though, through her own personal series of professional events, as well as my semester-long school recounts and rants, my mother actually finally said to me, "I think you should homeschool." Total God thing. He is good to me, down to the last drop.
Later: The Why (and the Why Me) Part II
Sunday, November 11, 2012
"The Experiment"
I am sitting here staring at the form.
Notice of Intent to Home School. That form.
In my state, there is actually not much to it. They pretty much just needed an address and a signature. I was surprised. I don't know what I was expecting, but hey, I just went through a domestic adoption so maybe that's why I was expecting a bit more paperwork where a child was concerned.
It is due to district office by Dec. 12th. The end of the business day. I kind of laughed reading that, picturing some poor woman suddenly realizing at 4:55 p.m. on Dec. 12th that she would like to up-end her life and homeschool, rushing madly to the district office, only to be locked out. "Oh well," she says, "It wasn't meant to be. Tra la la."
I laugh because it feels like I have been making this decision for an eternity. I guess it has only been three months since the question of homeschooling descended upon me like a firestorm at the Hunger Games. (I just tried to think of a better metaphor but the book is sitting right there on my desk and it is all I could come up with.) It's been three months of non-stop thinking and obsessing and questioning and praying and researching and yapping about homeschooling.
But anyone who knows me, know that I have been pondering homeschooling long before that. This may sound ridiculous, but I remember rocking Anna when she was a baby. I began thinking about sending her away to school someday and I started crying. Granted I was breastfeeding and emotional and still probably had some wicked pregnancy hormones racing through my system... but those feelings are still there, deep down. Rocking my daughter and wondering if she really had to leave home for eight hours a day, five days a week, in order to become a properly educated human being... and if that was really necessary in life...
So, here we are... seven years later. We are going to see if it isn't necessary in life, after all. Every time I start freaking out ("Good gracious, Ellen, between homeschooling and keeping the 16 month-old from eating pink Legos and doing freelance art, when are you even going to find time to poop by yourself in peace?"), I take a deep breath and tell myself, "This is an experiment." I don't have to do it all. I don't have to be perfect. We are going to have bad days. My house might be a disaster. I might be a complete failure educating my daughter for the rest of this school year. If I am, I will admit defeat and we will figure out what the tar we should do next.
But... (and here is where I barely dare whisper the possibility)... maybe... we might actually have fun? Maybe I will... actually teach her something neat and interesting and new? Maybe... we will love it? I am not going there yet. It is too scary and fraught with precarious expectations.
Right now, I am settling for...
You wanted me to try this, God. And I'm gonna do it. And I am crazy scared. But let me call it an "experiment" so it won't hurt as bad if I fail, okay? Okay. Loveyoubye. Amen.
Notice of Intent to Home School. That form.
In my state, there is actually not much to it. They pretty much just needed an address and a signature. I was surprised. I don't know what I was expecting, but hey, I just went through a domestic adoption so maybe that's why I was expecting a bit more paperwork where a child was concerned.
It is due to district office by Dec. 12th. The end of the business day. I kind of laughed reading that, picturing some poor woman suddenly realizing at 4:55 p.m. on Dec. 12th that she would like to up-end her life and homeschool, rushing madly to the district office, only to be locked out. "Oh well," she says, "It wasn't meant to be. Tra la la."
I laugh because it feels like I have been making this decision for an eternity. I guess it has only been three months since the question of homeschooling descended upon me like a firestorm at the Hunger Games. (I just tried to think of a better metaphor but the book is sitting right there on my desk and it is all I could come up with.) It's been three months of non-stop thinking and obsessing and questioning and praying and researching and yapping about homeschooling.
 |
| Anna, age 2 |
So, here we are... seven years later. We are going to see if it isn't necessary in life, after all. Every time I start freaking out ("Good gracious, Ellen, between homeschooling and keeping the 16 month-old from eating pink Legos and doing freelance art, when are you even going to find time to poop by yourself in peace?"), I take a deep breath and tell myself, "This is an experiment." I don't have to do it all. I don't have to be perfect. We are going to have bad days. My house might be a disaster. I might be a complete failure educating my daughter for the rest of this school year. If I am, I will admit defeat and we will figure out what the tar we should do next.
But... (and here is where I barely dare whisper the possibility)... maybe... we might actually have fun? Maybe I will... actually teach her something neat and interesting and new? Maybe... we will love it? I am not going there yet. It is too scary and fraught with precarious expectations.
Right now, I am settling for...
You wanted me to try this, God. And I'm gonna do it. And I am crazy scared. But let me call it an "experiment" so it won't hurt as bad if I fail, okay? Okay. Loveyoubye. Amen.
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