I couldn't wait to go to kindergarten. The first day of school felt like a holiday to me (up until high school-ish), because I so dearly loved to learn. I was an early and avid reader and school was the place where I got new books and new things to think on. So, when Jane started preschool, I was totally unprepared for the sobs that came with it. Everyday, she would cry and say she didn't want to go for different reasons. She is also an early and avid reader (earlier than me), and was reading before she started preschool, and reading novels (Magic Treehouse) before the year ended. But she also yearns to learn.
We went ahead with the kindergarten testing in the spring, and talked to a family friend who is also one of the local elementary school principals. Advancing a grade was not possible, even though she met all the readiness requirements for first grade. Grades can't be skipped until second grade or something. We got the impression that that there would be little her teacher could/would do to supplement her and so she would be very bored. She's also young for the grade, mid-August birthday, and so, since she was sobbing at the idea of going back to school, we looked into other options.
We started into looking at the K-12 program and a few like it. These are basically public schools online. The parent works as a kind of learning coach and there is a teacher you check in with and homework and lessons all delivered via a computer. The program in Idaho seemed very flexible and that Jane would be able to move up as she mastered skills and content.
And then we moved to Kansas.
We continued working on our enrollment online, though, and as we jumped all the paperwork hoops, we got a different picture of the Kansas K-12 program. It is the opposite of flexible. So we bowed out. And decided, since Kansas doesn't require children to be in school until they are 7, that we'd keep her at home for a while and see. Maybe we'd put her in at Christmas, maybe she'd be more socially eager and emotionally ready by then.
In the meantime, I was now a homeschooler. Education is like my number one hobby. My husband jokes that I don't really know how to have fun. Where other people have fun playing a game, or skiing, or swimming, or whatever, I enjoy learning something new. Much rather read a good book than go to an amusement park. So taking on the responsibility of my daughter's education had me hitting the books again.
And this is the new universe that I live in now. I opened the door, and I don't know if I can go back. But I'm not exactly sure that I can do what is required in this new paradigm. And it's pretty scary sometimes, the weight of what this means for my life is pretty heavy and honestly, I often wish I hadn't opened the door in the first place.
I have decided to share, in a series of posts, what I see on this side of the door, here on this blog. I considered starting a new one to share all about it, but then I'd have to come up with a clever name, and I'm fresh out of clever. I'm too busy thinking-nay, wrestling, with all these ideas, ideas I will try and share here. I want to share the why of what I'm considering as school for my children. And I'm looking for help in the how. That means I'm still trying to figure out how to implement the things I'm learning and theorizing about. So feel free to comment, share, connect me with people you know who are like-minded or are actually doing the thing I'm trying to do.
But that means there is homework. So, if you haven't seen this already, watch it. I'll be back in the next post with a summary of what I thought of it and I how I want to try to do something with it.
When I Grow Up
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I feel new.
Tonight we went around to visit our neighbors. We've been here in our pretty standard American suburb (houses 10 feet apart, small but not teeny fenced back yards) neighborhood for almost 8 months and I still don't really know my neighbors. We had a little bit of meeting when we needed to borrow tools to take out a hedge last fall. And I had great intentions of going caroling to everyone at Christmas (we got the flu instead). And there is the casual waving when shoveling walks in the winter and checking the mail here and there, but it wasn't enough to really get to know them.
And that's the funny thing about living in such close quarters. I can't decide if it's the introvert in me or the country girl, but living so close and being able to see so much of everybody's business without even trying to, I feel like I should make an effort to not look. And it's more than just ignoring the shouting spouses kitty-corner when I'm taking out the trash. I feel the need to put up blinders, especially in the backyard.
Anyhow, we were going to take stuff around on Valentine's day, and SOMETHING got in the way of that too. Third time was the charm with Easter. So I made two batches of sourdough white bread (6 loaves), let the girls decorate some white paper bags and we took them around tonight. Two houses we just briefly introduced ourselves at the door to an adult, the third house was a cute 5 year old kid who told us right away we couldn't come in because the house was "trashed" and her parents where in the bathroom. But our last two stops were delightful. In particular, the last house that wasn't initially on the list but Jane insisted we stop turned out to be really neat.
I can't remember the last time I had such an easy conversation with someone. We equally shared, laughed, connected, and just had a ball! Eric and I made real friends tonight!
Which brings me back to feeling new. These days when I talk to people, and since we are still new here it's a lot of people that I don't know or they don't know me well, etc, I am very aware of how I might be perceived. This isn't new, but in the last few years, SO many of the things I do and am passionate about ARE new. And very different. For example, I have no chairs or couches in my house. That's a specific health choice I have made. I brew stuff in my closets--stuff with names that most people don't know how to pronounce. I make nearly everything from scratch. I homeschool, for now. And then there is my herbal knowledge and crafting that needs its own closet.
And then there are more normal things that are just so new to me: I'm a budding entrepreneur. I have a business. And I'm working on another. I'm figuring out this gardening thing (I planted 6 berry plants, 4 2 tomatoes, 4 peppers, 12 strawberry plants, 4 roses, 6 tulips, and a peony this week). I'm learning to build stuff. And I'm trying to own my "graphic designer" stuff that I do.
So there are all these things that I do right now that I love and am so passionate about, but they all seem so new that they don't quite feel like "me" yet and so it still feels a bit strange when I talk about them to people that don't already know me and all the cray-cray I got going on over here. I guess it's just all part of growing up, but I just wonder when will I grow up? Like, how nutty am I going to be in two more years?? How much more of this madness can Eric take? ;-)
Tonight we went around to visit our neighbors. We've been here in our pretty standard American suburb (houses 10 feet apart, small but not teeny fenced back yards) neighborhood for almost 8 months and I still don't really know my neighbors. We had a little bit of meeting when we needed to borrow tools to take out a hedge last fall. And I had great intentions of going caroling to everyone at Christmas (we got the flu instead). And there is the casual waving when shoveling walks in the winter and checking the mail here and there, but it wasn't enough to really get to know them.
And that's the funny thing about living in such close quarters. I can't decide if it's the introvert in me or the country girl, but living so close and being able to see so much of everybody's business without even trying to, I feel like I should make an effort to not look. And it's more than just ignoring the shouting spouses kitty-corner when I'm taking out the trash. I feel the need to put up blinders, especially in the backyard.
Anyhow, we were going to take stuff around on Valentine's day, and SOMETHING got in the way of that too. Third time was the charm with Easter. So I made two batches of sourdough white bread (6 loaves), let the girls decorate some white paper bags and we took them around tonight. Two houses we just briefly introduced ourselves at the door to an adult, the third house was a cute 5 year old kid who told us right away we couldn't come in because the house was "trashed" and her parents where in the bathroom. But our last two stops were delightful. In particular, the last house that wasn't initially on the list but Jane insisted we stop turned out to be really neat.
I can't remember the last time I had such an easy conversation with someone. We equally shared, laughed, connected, and just had a ball! Eric and I made real friends tonight!
Which brings me back to feeling new. These days when I talk to people, and since we are still new here it's a lot of people that I don't know or they don't know me well, etc, I am very aware of how I might be perceived. This isn't new, but in the last few years, SO many of the things I do and am passionate about ARE new. And very different. For example, I have no chairs or couches in my house. That's a specific health choice I have made. I brew stuff in my closets--stuff with names that most people don't know how to pronounce. I make nearly everything from scratch. I homeschool, for now. And then there is my herbal knowledge and crafting that needs its own closet.
And then there are more normal things that are just so new to me: I'm a budding entrepreneur. I have a business. And I'm working on another. I'm figuring out this gardening thing (I planted 6 berry plants, 4 2 tomatoes, 4 peppers, 12 strawberry plants, 4 roses, 6 tulips, and a peony this week). I'm learning to build stuff. And I'm trying to own my "graphic designer" stuff that I do.
So there are all these things that I do right now that I love and am so passionate about, but they all seem so new that they don't quite feel like "me" yet and so it still feels a bit strange when I talk about them to people that don't already know me and all the cray-cray I got going on over here. I guess it's just all part of growing up, but I just wonder when will I grow up? Like, how nutty am I going to be in two more years?? How much more of this madness can Eric take? ;-)
My Inner Songwriter
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I took a songwriting class once (like my last year of college). It made me wish I hadn't been such a silly-pants and shied away from music for so much of my life (because if it's hard, that must mean I'm not good at it, so therefore I shouldn't study it!??! That's what I seriously thought).
I've been asked to lead our congregations choir, which includes choosing music. So, of course, I have been having fun arranging music (because it's basically free, and way fun). I found this website called Noteflight that has a TON of free functionality that I've been able to do a few numbers with. Here is my latest for our Easter performance:
I've been asked to lead our congregations choir, which includes choosing music. So, of course, I have been having fun arranging music (because it's basically free, and way fun). I found this website called Noteflight that has a TON of free functionality that I've been able to do a few numbers with. Here is my latest for our Easter performance:
On Discipline
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It seems like for much of my childhood and post-childhood life I've been told by others, and eventually by myself, that discipline was just making yourself do something you didn't want to- clean your room, do the dishes, be nice, weed the garden, etc. Just suck it up and get 'er done. My mom was pretty life-changingly injured when I was 12 and she had 7 kids and a husband who travelled for work 5 days out of the week for a good portion of that time. And she had no choice, really. I watched her do so many things through so much pain, pain that would stop many other people. And I internalized that as "discipline," this thing you do through gritted-teeth and sheer will-power.
The last few years, really since having kids, I've had some experience with "making" myself do things I wouldn't otherwise, by my single-self, do. I remember clearly during my oldest child's first year of life, laying in bed and hearing her cry out for me and being so tired and knowing that there was no one or no thing in the whole world that could make me get out of bed, except that little girl. On one occasion, I remember turning over to my husband before attending one of her needs and saying, "I wouldn't even do this for you!"
So why did/do I do it? Did the process of growing and birthing a child somehow transform my character into someone that could suck it up when I have to? Or do I want to?
Lately, my five year old has been so consumed by her anti-desires: "But mom, I don't want to," is the logical and final end to her argument on not doing what I have asked. Almost as if not wanting to is the same as not being able to. I have started to tell her that I do things all the time that I "don't want to." And this has caused her to ask a lot of "like what" questions. Today, while finishing a cake, she said "Mom, what are you doing RIGHT NOW that you don't want to do?" with a kind of morbid curiosity.
And I really don't want to give her the example of a mother-martyr, but I also want her to learn the lesson that "wanting" to isn't the sole or primary motivating factor in what we choose to do.
But then, maybe it is. Because, in the end, don't we all do what we ultimately want to do anyway? Except, maybe there are times when the motivation isn't there because we are physically disabled...? It seems, though, it HAS to be more complex than just one or the other. Like there are all these competing wants that have different weights that tip the scales to one or the other...
I don't know, I thought when I began that I was on to something profound. But it's late. That's all I've got. Forgive me, I'm really trying to get back into this blogging thing.
The last few years, really since having kids, I've had some experience with "making" myself do things I wouldn't otherwise, by my single-self, do. I remember clearly during my oldest child's first year of life, laying in bed and hearing her cry out for me and being so tired and knowing that there was no one or no thing in the whole world that could make me get out of bed, except that little girl. On one occasion, I remember turning over to my husband before attending one of her needs and saying, "I wouldn't even do this for you!"
So why did/do I do it? Did the process of growing and birthing a child somehow transform my character into someone that could suck it up when I have to? Or do I want to?
Lately, my five year old has been so consumed by her anti-desires: "But mom, I don't want to," is the logical and final end to her argument on not doing what I have asked. Almost as if not wanting to is the same as not being able to. I have started to tell her that I do things all the time that I "don't want to." And this has caused her to ask a lot of "like what" questions. Today, while finishing a cake, she said "Mom, what are you doing RIGHT NOW that you don't want to do?" with a kind of morbid curiosity.
And I really don't want to give her the example of a mother-martyr, but I also want her to learn the lesson that "wanting" to isn't the sole or primary motivating factor in what we choose to do.
But then, maybe it is. Because, in the end, don't we all do what we ultimately want to do anyway? Except, maybe there are times when the motivation isn't there because we are physically disabled...? It seems, though, it HAS to be more complex than just one or the other. Like there are all these competing wants that have different weights that tip the scales to one or the other...
I don't know, I thought when I began that I was on to something profound. But it's late. That's all I've got. Forgive me, I'm really trying to get back into this blogging thing.
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