tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9154829603995054832024-03-20T19:24:21.955-07:00Down-Home Schoolhouse"Wildness is a necessity."Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-48081566431578029342023-12-21T09:03:00.000-08:002023-12-21T09:32:29.788-08:00Can you make no use of your discontent?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaAqZrC2oiRSRsEFh-LN0A1LHUGRWaiw6LNI6B8mb2p6jxHM2OxmEi0WkVNObwYnX0OT19-fD1fd_CMxitGQwQFOq1aMYyZEYhrcfODDV7fBEiVNjg_f7f-k5K3D363pYhApH7Va1j9pxk2lzcCpBdI6O2F6AMmQXjvtMCw0Ncg7d6isEmJOXLzPyulQ/s2016/IMG_1522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaAqZrC2oiRSRsEFh-LN0A1LHUGRWaiw6LNI6B8mb2p6jxHM2OxmEi0WkVNObwYnX0OT19-fD1fd_CMxitGQwQFOq1aMYyZEYhrcfODDV7fBEiVNjg_f7f-k5K3D363pYhApH7Va1j9pxk2lzcCpBdI6O2F6AMmQXjvtMCw0Ncg7d6isEmJOXLzPyulQ/w640-h480/IMG_1522.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>I have on my pink winter socks. My feet are propped up on a coffee table in a room that I didn't even own this time last year. I can look beyond the computer screen and see seven blue and green knit stockings hung beside my fireplace. Seven. There have been several times over the last few years that I wondered if that would ever be. It feels like a Christmas miracle that we're even here together trying to create a place of rest in my hometown amid a chaotic, messy, beautiful life. This year was hard, the year before it was hard, and the holidays can be a difficult reminder of some of the hurts we carry around. Thinking back to last Christmas, I was barely dragging my one hundred pounds out of bed. Barely eating, wasting away but trying to smile for the camera and pretend as we do. I was very depressed and not for the first time in my life. I had decided to come home from Colorado and reground. I needed help and the only place I felt I could turn to was the comfort of Tennessee, my family and friends, and the community I grew up in that maybe, just maybe I could send the kids to public school in. It was a scary thought. Much of my identity was tied up in titles or others over the years. Military spouse. Mrs. Stay at Home Mom. Special Needs Mom. Adoptive Mom. Homeschool Mom. Looking back, I wish I could tell the twenty something year old Kacy so much. Towards the top of that list would be to "know thyself" without letting others, circumstances, or traumas shape my thoughts on who I am. Now, I understand it's the God of the Universe who tells me who I am and I was created in His image. I lack nothing. He doesn't look at me and see my mistakes and shortcomings and He never, ever leaves. I felt forgotten, though in so many ways. This past year has woven in me a kindness and grace towards myself that I've never allowed before. I'm not pretending or hiding anymore. You know us homeschool mamas like teaching Shakespeare, right? Well, I've really been pondering over the last few months the quote from Much Ado About Nothing...</p><p>"...let me be that I am and seek not to alter me. Can you make no use of your discontent? I make all use of it for I use it only."</p><p>There have been so many books, podcasts, prayers, vent sessions, therapy appointments, medicines, and sermons I've consumed on the idea of happiness over the years. But when I read the above - Can you make no use of your discontent- those words stuck. So I've been given a lot of hard. I'm still here. What am I going to do with it? The thought was healing. Freeing. </p><p>This cold Christmas, I'm focused on enduring, creating, loving, living, and worrying less about what wasn't perfect about my life before or now. The picture of Christmas I'm focused on today is the example of Jesus, born into humanity, willing to walk through this scary world bearing all our hardships and sin because of Love. I'm not in relationship with a god who sits on an unreachable throne. I'm in relationship with a God who is approachable, loving, all-knowing, and so much more. He knows me and yet loves me. </p><p>Joy to the world.</p><p>And Heaven and Nature (and Kacy) sing.</p><p>Repeat the sounding joy.</p><p>This year is different. I have a warm and cheery home although still wild and loud. The kids are on break from school- we made it to Christmas which is all I asked of them when I finally decided to enroll them. We did it, kids! Jordan has a job closer to home now and it allows him much more time to be around. We are adjusting to this big family squeezed into a small house that we've transformed room by room and we're trusting Him to do the same with our hearts- opening doors, airing out the hurts in each dark room, and reminding us He is with us in each one. </p><p>Happy Christmas to you all.</p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-18583299431159994382023-08-23T17:29:00.004-07:002023-08-23T17:49:21.416-07:00It's going to be okay-<p> I'm sitting in my wicker chair that I scored for super cheap second hand, the cushions are old but in good shape and I have the perfect writing desk pulled up in my lap from my mother. Today was a hard day. I grow incredibly tired of pretending otherwise. My kids spend their days away from me and they've never really done that. I love it and it's hard. As a (hopefully) recovering people pleaser, it's difficult.</p><p> In the past year, my children have studied the ancestral Pueblo people through books and talks and visiting Mesa Verde National Park, hiking around and viewing the old community sites. They've copied passages from Shakespeare into their writing collections like "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts." They've had slow mornings gathered around fires and feasts viewing and identifying and studying classical art. They've committed scripture to memory like "A friend loves at all times" and "No one is righteous, not even one". They've stargazed in the deserts of Utah and looked at constellations with adults and posed questions I would've never thought of raising my hand to ask. They've carried conversations in outdoor classrooms with adults over the ponderings of Big Foot in the forests of Colorado. They have camped in Wyoming and hiked through the Grand Tetons. They climbed 14ers. They watched elk cross our roads, shoveled snow for physical fitness and learned to be a contributing part of a family, and they welcomed and helped care for a little girl whose culture and upbringing and home was completely foreign to them. They joined in celebrating and appreciating her culture through festivals, foods, art, and love for her. They visited Rocky Mountain National Park, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, and dozens of trails throughout the West. They read books, so many good books. We didn't avoid the hard topics either. We read about the atrocities committed against Native Americans, the Black community, and more. We spent time in museums visiting dinosaur remains and learning about old mining communities. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZnuCsgKBQ1a2J9ku6eC_KzWmfdITrPhH2wt_3Y_K6KUFFK0mU6pAzq_Xo5IfRnrUSTYep3JaPAC0adz5BQoDdFGEuZbr4NUME_6lkXyprL7QZBlb1S3ylm2wBkT4n4WTKLEasrE9xb-SIe3vmP8sss2toEWElBd85e6pNvytK8tdTiup8wGJuok7B7I/s719/177EA1FC-4748-46EB-BC9E-6B726025D341%20(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="719" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZnuCsgKBQ1a2J9ku6eC_KzWmfdITrPhH2wt_3Y_K6KUFFK0mU6pAzq_Xo5IfRnrUSTYep3JaPAC0adz5BQoDdFGEuZbr4NUME_6lkXyprL7QZBlb1S3ylm2wBkT4n4WTKLEasrE9xb-SIe3vmP8sss2toEWElBd85e6pNvytK8tdTiup8wGJuok7B7I/w640-h640/177EA1FC-4748-46EB-BC9E-6B726025D341%20(1).JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>I wouldn't change it for anything. Let me say it louder for myself, I WOULD'T CHANGE ANYTHING.</p><p>But they do not know how to divide decimals. They don't even know to write their last names on their homework or ask to go to the bathroom. They only recently learned a grading system of A, B, C, D, F and they all have taken their first tests in the last three weeks they've joined the public school. Their worlds have completely changed and it's hard not to feel responsible for all of the struggle as of late.</p><p>I know in my heart that I've given them a great gift over these years at home with me. Evidenced tonight as I tried to help one of them study for a quiz tomorrow-</p><p>Him: "Mom, I don't want you to worry. You should know that I don't care if I make an F minus. I'm okay with that."</p><p>LOL</p><p>Gah, I love that kid. Somehow, miraculously, he has the confidence I lack. He is wise for his years (all my boys are) and he can't be bothered by what the rest of the world is doing. He's giving it his best effort and he's comfortable with it. He teaches me every day.</p><p>Our lives have been upturned (again) and I regret nothing. They are learning at their own pace and building relationships in the process. The community I sought is ever present now and I do feel like we're all going to be okay. The bible talks about a royal priesthood...not a royal priest. We live and work together. I'm not lonely on a mountain anymore. I have people who will gladly help. I need it in this season.</p><p>My children have learned vastly different lessons over the years than most kids their age. This period of adjustment is challenging, but it's a blessing to us, too. I appreciate all who help us navigate a new culture of schooling. Thank you for your patience!</p><p>As for me, I will continue to let some control go and give it to God (and their teachers). I can't carry it all and I know my children will rise to the occasion and develop valuable characteristics like personal responsibility, perseverance, hard work, and emotional intelligence. Together. we are all learning just as I purposed to do five years ago. It's going to be okay. </p><p>A year ago, <a href="http://www.downhomeschoolhouse.com/2022/08/go-slay-all-dragons-that-stand-in-your.html" target="_blank">I wrote this</a> - so these yearnings have been brewing for a long time. I felt upset earlier thinking about how I wish I could go back to last August of 2022 and drive on home when I knew. Or how I should have put them in school in January when I eventually did. As the day wore on though I remembered how I would never wish my time away with them. The hard times built us. The hard times are building us.</p><p>Julian of Norwich put it this way-</p><p>"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."</p><p>Clinging to that.</p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-13545953533252228302023-08-12T14:48:00.001-07:002023-08-12T14:50:19.240-07:00How's public school going?<p> How's it going? I've heard this question a lot lately so I thought I'd answer it in writing since I'm snuggled up in bed on this rainy evening with a carton of ice cream. The transition of my five wild and free homeschoolers to public school has been a fun one. Their first full week is done and I'm proud of how they're adjusting. I have really struggled, though. I've spent my last five years with a slowing down mindset. I've taught my children naturally as they were ready. We weren't on a time crunch and we didn't keep up with the Joneses nor did we even know the Joneses. We haven't bothered with tests or grade levels. Our school was our home, not our school, if that makes sense. With the stressors we've faced lately, I found myself wanting help and I'm so glad I have it now. It has just been hard on me to release the reins to someone else. I love them more than anyone could so I knew they were safe with me. It's hard to send five kids off to be taught by someone else the majority of the day and not worry about their wellbeing. I've told them all every day at drop off that the only thing they can control is themselves. Their attitude, their kindness to themselves and others- that's what I care about. No test or grade can define them. If they try and are kind in the midst of hardship, that's all that matters to me. I do mean that and I've loved hearing about their days when they come home from school. They have so many stories and I think they're making many new friends. There have been challenges and there will continue to be as we try to find the right approach and grade level for each child so some gaps can be filled in over time. The school has been so great working with us. I know it's a lot to suddenly have several new students who haven't spent time in a classroom setting so I appreciate the grace we've been shown by the teachers and staff.</p><p>If you are praying for us, here are some specific requests-</p><p>*Please pray for Saylor and her confidence as she makes another big change on Monday</p><p>*And pray for my mama heart that I can relax a bit and not worry about them constantly</p><p>Thank you, friends.</p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-45564175085601093582023-07-24T11:29:00.000-07:002023-07-24T11:29:18.310-07:00Saved by the bell<p> Five years. That's how long we've been at this homeschool lifestyle. I remember back in 2018 how wrought with stress and fear I was when I was trying to make the decision to go against the grain and try something new. I've felt the same sort of feelings this year, too as I tried to make decisions about the five students under my roof. Both times I've felt relief when I finally decided- enormous relief. With that being said, I've decided to retire.</p><p>The kids are entering the public school system this year and we are quite excited.</p><p>Looking back on the last five years, I'm flooded with so many good memories-</p><p>- Studying scripture, art, classical music, and literature gathered around our fireplace</p><p>- Hiking around America seeing scenes and talking to locals that many people save up their whole lives to be able to visit</p><p>-Teaching my kids to read and think and discuss</p><p>-Watching as they took ideas and bounced them around in their own heads, molding them and making them their own</p><p>There have been so many benefits that we've enjoyed over the years. I wouldn't change a single thing about my decision to learn alongside my kids at home. It was a great blessing.</p><p>But it wasn't without its challenges. Moving across the country, leaving our support system, and adopting rocked me to my core and I found myself struggling to blend schedules, focus on my individual kids, and carry the burdens of life lest they fall down on them. This past year has been a trial- a long, hard war that isn't resolved and I started imaging what it would be like to have more help with their education. I always said I would take it year by year and assess to see if it was still working for us. I decided it's not working right now and that's okay. I don't feel like I've failed. I feel like I've won because if I'm being honest, I value all the time I've poured into them. I haven't done a lot right in my life, but these kids are my world and I've done the very best I could do with them in our home and school. I've built in storages of hours outside together, hours reading aloud, and so much time for snuggling on the couch when someone was under the weather. Being their mother and teacher has been an honor and a privilege. </p><p>It's difficult to not make a role in my life my entire personality or identity. In the past, I've gone all in with being married to the military, being a special needs mom, a homemaker, a homeschool mama, an adoptive mama. I don't fear reinventing myself. I can do hard things. </p><p>And I think the kids are ready.</p><p>If you see them in the hallways or classrooms, I hope you'll offer up a smile or some encouragement. I pray for lots of grace for all of us during this transition. They don't often have to ask to go to the bathroom or wait for designated eating hours. They've done math problems upside down or swinging from the trees for years and have little experience sitting for long periods of time at a desk. They are thick as thieves together and it will be strange for them not to have their siblings beside them. They aren't used to performance based learning as our studies have mostly been learning by doing or reading and discussing in depth. It's my prayer that each of them will rise to the occasion and demonstrate hard work and kindness during this period of adjustment. As one of my favorite homeschooling mamas wrote, "Our children are not personal projects to prove our competence to outsiders" and I'm going to gently remind myself of that each day. These children are whole persons already and I'm just here to discover who they are becoming and guide them as I can. They are their own people though- independent, wild and free. I hope they have a foundation that reminds them of their great worth and what is really important in life.</p><p>I hear the bell ringing and it's time to go back to school. Saved by the bell!</p><p>We appreciate your prayers.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgIG8CAz6RD0Bueq79T-Qea_VIR1wmc66CoERNIetfklk1GqbOlZpROP88FtmJH126940THNOxBEukM2nq-He_XTAnt6ndAgRocLXRN-3OvwphjDA34FgG70wWWi90hrhNiQnXpo6RAVOLVD8R_AeqIsNQ-Iue6w5NTra0loa8vnGo4RPJZj_3QhklU1Y/s1089/IMG_6872.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="737" data-original-width="1089" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgIG8CAz6RD0Bueq79T-Qea_VIR1wmc66CoERNIetfklk1GqbOlZpROP88FtmJH126940THNOxBEukM2nq-He_XTAnt6ndAgRocLXRN-3OvwphjDA34FgG70wWWi90hrhNiQnXpo6RAVOLVD8R_AeqIsNQ-Iue6w5NTra0loa8vnGo4RPJZj_3QhklU1Y/w400-h271/IMG_6872.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-5020662333983721842022-08-26T08:49:00.004-07:002022-08-26T08:49:57.211-07:00Go Slay All the Dragons That Stand in Your Way<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXf-B3GfGmB48is2B0GDYDAHkFrF5ggcLFHJMlVjVd0qjgFMjCsCFLRZDA5cRuJGIZqI94W7HrPomCMAwo3azS1a-87ZHiOwOV4DTKUxpb-hGWAfnR2oObCiRJmOcMuQdKrT_IDa35W1CiMLIHKXhNlMDr-32ZCZYx4pPvvanM5LTJ5li2f9cZgdPe/s1280/IMG_9446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="674" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXf-B3GfGmB48is2B0GDYDAHkFrF5ggcLFHJMlVjVd0qjgFMjCsCFLRZDA5cRuJGIZqI94W7HrPomCMAwo3azS1a-87ZHiOwOV4DTKUxpb-hGWAfnR2oObCiRJmOcMuQdKrT_IDa35W1CiMLIHKXhNlMDr-32ZCZYx4pPvvanM5LTJ5li2f9cZgdPe/w211-h400/IMG_9446.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>Feels like old times sitting down to a laptop, a cup of coffee, and a chill in the air. I started blogging when we lived in Alaska and I was by myself a lot. The darkness felt constant in the winter with the sun not even fully rising around 10am and horizontally moving a bit before it dipped right back down before 2pm. I've known isolation before. I've known lonely. Jordan was away from our little cabin in the woods a lot in those days. It was just me and some dogs (and the moose that visited our yard weekly). </p><div>Recently, I told some friends that I googled "midlife crisis" and while it's a bit funny, it's also true. A few weeks ago when school was starting up in Tennessee, I was at such a low point that I was trying to determine how fast I could drive home with the kids and enroll them back in their public school they attended years ago. There was a picture that popped up in my memories lately that was of my sister, my best friend, and me plus all our little babies walking into the school to sign the oldest kids in for pre-k. I remember wishing that I could just drop off like all the other students instead of unbuckling my four kids under six and maneuvering across traffic to get them in, but every day I saw my sister, my bestie, my nephews and niece, and a whole host of people who were truly for my children as I walked inside. I had help. I had community. People did life with me. It's hard to re-create that when we move somewhere new. In the military, we had built in community. It's small enough that we almost always knew someone else that was stationed at the same place. If not, we were in similar circumstances with new folks and could jump right into friendships because we all knew the value of time.</div><div><br /></div><div>This mountain we're on now looks beautiful from your point of view because you see what I share. I share the lovely- the pictures of freshly fallen snow, brilliant wildflowers, the Snow White- like yard where deer come up to our deck daily, National Parks people wait their whole lives to be able to see, etc. I don't show when I can't drag myself from the bed because I miss my people. I don't show how the house falls into disarray because I'm trying to balance motherhood, homeschooling, marriage, fitness, attending the largest laundry mountain you've ever seen, and all the other things that I try to manage. The mountain can be isolating, though and sometimes this beautiful gift we've been given to live in the Rockies feels more like a prison. I don't share that because even reading the sentence back in my head feels icky. We GET to do this.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm writing all this out so you know- life isn't perfect for anyone. In the past, people have shared with me that they don't like who I portray online. I can't really help that. I don't pretend to be perfect or have the perfect life, but I do share what I think will make you smile when you see it. It's hard to listen to someone complain all the time and that's not what I want to see or share when I pick up my phone.</div><div>Instead of a midlife crisis that I'm going to try really hard not to have (ha!), I've determined that perhaps I just feel unmotivated. I've always done something every year or been working toward something big every year and I don't have that right now. One year it was- "I'm going to start homeschooling!" Or "I'm going to run a marathon!" And another and another. Then, I was so focused on the adoption. Now that everyone is under one roof, I feel unfocused on something/anything I can do for me and my mental health. I know this is just a stage and it's quite likely I would've been bored in Tennessee right now, too. The beauty of this stage and the value of life-long learning that we're trying to instill in our kids is that we have time right now to learn something new, to explore places we've never been, and develop the mental grit it takes to get through difficult times. The freedom I feel in that grounds me. Whether it's getting through deployments, navigating life with kids who have extra needs, moving for the millionth time, completing an international adoption, or figuring out life with five children- it's going to be okay. Life is still good. Hard but not without hope. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNA8R8_ZzEEO-SeKICAU4zCPRWo1rb_fe8PImfxQWEOx95fFX583upLA4Hfr6aZo1tAchKmJo9pGlikesxW6tmiffm-Zp06lP7aLzC9iZl2qWoTye6BL83N-56KIesyRVUarg62z4kqHJCrHiAt4dUD05olDUtV1YKn69F_ZV3tCy-v5AKbenhpZWL/s2016/IMG_2377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNA8R8_ZzEEO-SeKICAU4zCPRWo1rb_fe8PImfxQWEOx95fFX583upLA4Hfr6aZo1tAchKmJo9pGlikesxW6tmiffm-Zp06lP7aLzC9iZl2qWoTye6BL83N-56KIesyRVUarg62z4kqHJCrHiAt4dUD05olDUtV1YKn69F_ZV3tCy-v5AKbenhpZWL/w480-h640/IMG_2377.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>"Take a few chances, a few worthy romances</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Go swimming in the ocean, on New Year's Day</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Don't listen to the critics</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Stand up and bear witness</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Go slay all the dragons that stand in your way"</i></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(-Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors)</i></div><div><br /></div></div>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-24944227588706277282022-08-02T12:05:00.001-07:002022-08-02T12:05:31.968-07:00Your school choice is not a moral one.<p>The aspen leaves are twinkling as they do with the slight breeze that's blowing my hair and the sun shield I'm sitting underneath. The mountain is warm today. I woke up around seven a.m. having pre arranged the coffee to start with the push of a button, making it easier to head straight to the front porch to enjoy my morning sugar and beans. The baby slept in a bit so after my coffee I decided it was late enough in the morning to go out for a run. I try to avoid early mornings and evenings because of the mountain lions and more recently we've had bear activity so I've stayed closer to home. It was a quick run, but it gave me about twenty minutes to think and what I was thinking about was school choice, of all things.</p><p>I'm not entirely shy about discussing how difficult this transition to Colorado has been for me. My aim is to be positive with the opportunities we've been given, but I told my husband last week that I just want something easy for once. Easy is the comfort of our Tennessee roots to me. Not only did we grow up there, we've spent the last seven and a half years there. I knew what to expect. I knew who I could call on on dark days. I had therapies and doctors in order there. I had a homeschool community.</p><p>It's different here and when I tearily explained to my mom last week, 'I just need some help', she didn't chastise me for homeschooling in the first place OR discourage public schooling. She just listened and said she was supportive in whatever I would choose for our family. That is so incredibly rare to hear. I have a few friends that I can talk to about it and they reiterate that sentiment, too, both public school teachers & parents, private school parents, and fellow homeschooling mamas.</p><p>The thing is, we all bring our personal experiences and opinions to the table and some people feel so strongly one way or another that they can't help but spout off what they think. On the flip side, we can hold so strongly to those convictions, we can begin to think the other side is doing it wrong.</p><p>I'm just here to say that your school choice is not a moral one. </p><p>There are a million different ways to live your life and a million different ways to be a good mother. Your freedom to choose what is best for your child and family is one you should exercise. It's easy for me to look at all the back to school photos posted online today and think that perhaps my children could be missing out on some rite of passage. I'm sure it's equally easy for some of you to see all of our adventures together and your mind will go to all the time you feel you might be missing with having them at school. Let's stop comparing!</p><p>I firmly believe that most of us are doing the best we can and operating from that viewpoint, we're choosing the best route for our own children and their education. As for my family, we take it year by year. We ask ourselves, is this still working? What do the kids prefer? What can we eliminate? What can we add?</p><p>Bad days are okay. You might want to assess the number of bad days you (or your child) is having, but don't dwell on them if there are more good ones than bad. Take notes. You're allowed to not have it all together all the time.</p><p>You're probably a good mom if your kids are being homeschooled. You're probably a good mom if you choose to send them to public school or private school. You are making the best choice for your kids even if it's hard! Give yourself some grace. </p><p>Just like you can't bank on your morality with the clothes you choose to wear, the food you prepare, and the cleanliness of your home- you also can't align yourself with one school of choice and believe you are better for it. You're a good mom when you look at the needs of your children and rise to meet them in whatever capacity they might come in.</p><p>Happy Back-to-School, Mamas! You've got this.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QqUv8XZjn1Lmnnz-3PKeae4VoYCAjva-LfW9OMl8tcTcdBjpid_HBlEtTmUEWj7o0T-0MapENKGcSYhCxfxRoO5eUc_YVK9p_svfsP4zF1lR5ibjNhVM3auyRY1yN36UxsXb86LsAXw-FNzva5T616_FOg0hEFlvyQAFpFaNsgVei9UqiW0JjOzh/s1440/296362164_10102669877656098_1134237523735180311_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QqUv8XZjn1Lmnnz-3PKeae4VoYCAjva-LfW9OMl8tcTcdBjpid_HBlEtTmUEWj7o0T-0MapENKGcSYhCxfxRoO5eUc_YVK9p_svfsP4zF1lR5ibjNhVM3auyRY1yN36UxsXb86LsAXw-FNzva5T616_FOg0hEFlvyQAFpFaNsgVei9UqiW0JjOzh/w400-h400/296362164_10102669877656098_1134237523735180311_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-86598557468793820192022-02-13T11:55:00.000-08:002022-02-13T11:55:02.112-08:00Children in a Garden<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjw_S1DJ1QWnM8spHGXBGNCTSB8UM6FDWE46xunpwLENDkhEDVj2chtpRIADzUpek00Y2b5OLrErjH_ejNh2SCPT6PJC69ZDyzTsR6beCtHoSfxX7Z7En1oH9ZOAvJtR6ZZvFwPrG-XQ6fEaD8DGSq0rCghzvJOL5uGJnbxAObtCyNbZhEy-yOd36x=s2016" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgjw_S1DJ1QWnM8spHGXBGNCTSB8UM6FDWE46xunpwLENDkhEDVj2chtpRIADzUpek00Y2b5OLrErjH_ejNh2SCPT6PJC69ZDyzTsR6beCtHoSfxX7Z7En1oH9ZOAvJtR6ZZvFwPrG-XQ6fEaD8DGSq0rCghzvJOL5uGJnbxAObtCyNbZhEy-yOd36x=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div>Yesterday. the seven of us got tickets to the Denver Art Museum to see the Whistler to Cassatt exhibit. The kids and I have studied Mary Cassatt for years and it was profound to encounter these works of art in person together. How magnificent to see something so beautiful that has withstood the test of time!<p></p><p>The piece above is entitled Children in a Garden (The Nurse). As we were meandering through the rooms of art, Jordan stopped at this one and said, "This reminds me of you." I looked at the woman and I looked at me, standing there with a baby in my arms and four children gathered around me as I pushed an empty stroller and reminded everyone to please whisper when they have something to add. </p><p>I didn't want to see myself in this frumpy woman at first. </p><p>You see, Mary Cassatt's later work largely focused on finding beauty in every day scenes, some that many found mundane. During her Impressionist days, she painted what was considered more sophisticated scenes like the opera. In her later art, she looked for women to paint who were considered plain and sometimes even unattractive. She sought out the beauty of the ordinary and painted them with grace.</p><p>Being compared to a subject in Mary Cassatt's collection initially wasn't the best compliment just a few days before Valentine's Day! But as I walked around admiring the works of a woman who was going against the grain of popular art and using her brush strokes to highlight a mostly unseen group of ordinary women (like me!), I found the love behind Jordan's sentiment. Here, is a woman, tending to children outside. I see her knitting or mending perhaps. She's making an effort to take care of the people and responsibilities she's entrusted with yet she's taking time to enjoy the colors around her and prioritizing curiosity, rest, play, and time out of doors for the children, too.</p><p>The comparison is a sweet reminder that I don't have to be polished. I don't need to be peoples' cup of tea. There's something lovely in this quiet life here at home with my family. Beauty in the ordinary.</p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-45783723039952963412022-02-10T20:56:00.000-08:002022-02-10T20:56:46.724-08:00I hope you dance<p>Have you ever seen those little images people share with small children, arms outstretched to the sky with a joyful smile on their face even though it's raining? It probably says something like "I hope you dance" or "Always take time to dance in the rain." Sometimes they're cheesy and sweet, but people post them with abandon. I wonder if they believe those words.</p><p> An unpopular opinion I hold is that it's okay to romanticize your life from time to time. Smile if you can.</p><p>You're knee deep in diapers and snot, but you know you want to remember those toothless little grins or funny way they pronounce a word so you open up your camera and start recording, pushing the trash bag out of the frame and adding a sappy song for extra effect. I'm not mad about it.</p><p>Say you plan a huge family trip, but everyone is fighting on the way there and then you get burnt. It's not at all relaxing and there's more drama than anything, but what you want to remember is that one moment on the beach when the wind was in your hair, the kids were giggling, and you felt like God Himself was walking along side you as your family played in the crashing waves and took the best keepsake photo that you'll display for years and years.</p><p>Maybe you're headed to church for the first time in a long time and you're flustered about how the kids are dressed, if their faces are clean, and how long it took you to find your bible, but when you get home your mood has changed and you share what you learned the hour you were away. That's okay.</p><p>There's a difference between people who want to portray their lives as perfect and those who want to pick out something positive from their week. There's a distinction there that I think is often missed. We are on social media for connection and friendship. I feel excited when my friends are excited. I look at your posts and if it's a good day for you, I'm happy for you. </p><p>Unfortunately, that's not always the go-to for a lot of people. Go check out various threads of opinions and comments where someone posted something happy, someone else chimes in something hateful, correcting, combative, whatever and suddenly something that was supposed to be just nice or funny or lighthearted is now full-on debate. Ugh.</p><p>Some of my undergraduate work that piqued my interests fifteen years ago was how the Internet with its images and media was changing the way we thought about ourselves and others. For fifteen years, I've either researched, wrote, or gathered up experiences about this very topic and I don't like what I see. Oh, but here I am still plugging away at it, a true millennial.</p><p>This brings me to another unpopular opinion I have: If you (or your child!) isn't capable of understanding that every sentence read from social media isn't the whole truth then you (or your child!) is not ready for this medium. There's a lot of information and misinformation all over the Internet and when common sense, critical thinking, and emotional intelligence aren't developed there will be a lot of hurt feelings, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, and offenses taken.</p><p>Why am I sharing all this on my homeschooling page? It's something I'm passionate about and I want my kids to learn as we share our days here at home. It's why they probably won't have access to any of this for years to come. They aren't ready. If so and so can't read between the lines of my posts and see a person with struggles like everyone else then my children surely can't either. The Internet is gray. Black and white is easier to your listening ear (or reading eyes), though. It's our nature to want to group someone quickly to decide what social rules or beliefs should be assigned to them and in turn how we should feel about them. I'm asking that you pause and hold off on those judgments.</p><p>I hope you have friends in real life who you can get to know deeply and want to know you deeply, too. I hope you talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly with them. But for those of your "friends" who you see as you scroll, I hope you give them grace. I hope you encourage. I hope you "like". And for the love, please take time to laugh or dance or whatever other cheesy quote that pops into your mind. Life is far too short to lose friends over something you read on their social media page.</p><p>And for those of you who feel like you're drowning most days, post those happy moments anyway. I'll be happy with you.</p><p>Maybe your children can still show you the unbound way they float about in the rain and the mud and laugh and dance despite it all. If it's not too late, I hope you dance, too.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-88866603635801799402021-10-21T11:01:00.001-07:002021-10-21T11:01:15.095-07:00Nobody's Darling<p> As the bacon sizzles in the oven and the eggs and waffles I've prepared begin to cool, I pause in the chaos of the morning and realize that I am living all that I want. The children are game-schooling near me and while the laughter and excited screaming will wake the dead, I have a peace that can only come from God. Bach's Mass in B Minor is playing above the children and I can't explain it, but it's therapy to me. I'm watching as my five year old, with her "super bedhead" as she calls it, raises her arms out and floats about the room to the music. The morning outside is overcast, but the aspens are still yellow through our large front windows and I know if I walk outside I'll need a sweater. We feel so cozy here, just us. Our family of six is awaiting news today that we are now seven and we just can't wait to add her to our nest up on this mountain.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgw707o5aovJLVjP8YztP3B_KD9wFLYIplQ0cralz5GhlXh1uK8o2372rVslzg7UBzPYg2FHPID8Y31k65IrgNMBUGGL8QWjEoFnEWfaMV5lz-r_wNKsteAM2qMYj5RnLN44yRwJ06L0HeAPwKCo4h0mn6qgrL5kMi5LsVkHFM29VhQjH2BgkMnNIF3=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgw707o5aovJLVjP8YztP3B_KD9wFLYIplQ0cralz5GhlXh1uK8o2372rVslzg7UBzPYg2FHPID8Y31k65IrgNMBUGGL8QWjEoFnEWfaMV5lz-r_wNKsteAM2qMYj5RnLN44yRwJ06L0HeAPwKCo4h0mn6qgrL5kMi5LsVkHFM29VhQjH2BgkMnNIF3=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p>Last month I attended the Wild + Free conference again and it didn't disappoint. Every year I leave feeling refreshed and ready to begin a new school year with my gaggle of students. It helps me remember what we're aiming for and that it's okay to march to the beat of a different drum. <a href="https://heritagemom.com/" target="_blank">Heritage Mom Blog's Amber</a> spoke to my heart so much with her talk about belonging. I could relate with her in that I'm a walking contradiction. Just before I turned on Bach, I saw the last few artists I listened to included Run-DMC, Tyler Childers, ZZ Top, Josh Baldwin, The Pirates Charles, and Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors. I like to workout, but I adore really bad, unhealthy, and delicious foods. I talk about limited screen time, but on vacation we binge and those rules go out the window. We listen to classic literature in the car and we also have to grab the volume dial and turn down our music at some inappropriate parts lest the kids hear it and repeat it at the worst possible time. I believe in God, but not always the actions of the church. Amber talked about how she's allowed to like what she likes, promote what she cares about, and have differing views so much so that no one can seem to fit her in any type of box. She said she is nobody's darling. I felt much freedom in that statement. Lately, people have criticized everything I do or don't do. In the last few years of this pandemic, I've decided to let people keep any image of me they've created in their minds. I do not possess time to care about what others say or think about me. It has nothing to do with me. I'm nobody's darling, either.</p><p>Isn't homeschool that way, too? I know there are so many different ways of learning. The trick in schooling and in being a kind human is not to compare. Don't dwell in jealousy. Celebrate the differences and achievements of others. Just because I choose to live a certain way doesn't mean I think it's the only way. Just because you live a certain way doesn't mean I want that, too. This house on the hill, tucked away in the pines, is walking in the freedom of an alternate path- one that God himself orchestrated. The bible verse we're committing to memory this week is:</p><p></p><blockquote>"You are the salt of the earth." Matthew 5:13a</blockquote><p></p><p>And we intend to teach the children to be the flavor when the world is bland. We want them to preserve (as salt did) the characteristics of a life walking with Jesus. We wear what we want, listen to what we love, and collect experiences we are interested in. All of that weaves together into a culture all our own. In heaven I imagine people from all parts of the world, many skin tones, music lovers, writers, builders, conservatives, democrats, and all manner of people who follow God. The unique characteristics He placed in our hearts will only add to the flavor of eternity. We are HIS. We don't have to be anyone else's.</p><p><br /></p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-28250686564578122462021-06-21T21:09:00.001-07:002021-06-21T21:09:35.967-07:00What Makes You Fragile?<p>My mama, the woman I inherited my love of writing from, gave me a book last year that is called "400 Writing Prompts". There are small thoughts or questions typed on every page and there's not a single thing written in it in response. I do pick it up often and flip through the questions and come here or there (microsoft word) and answer them. </p><p>I've been writing a book lately. It seems that I start one every year and before too awful long, I capitulate and it begins to gather dust in the wastebasket of my home screen. I've started so many and finished none. It's too scary. I want to write something important because if not, I'm not sure what the point is. In the past this has meant that I must write something true, but lately I've started to remember how much fiction can mean to a reader, as well. </p><p>Just today, the kids and I were reading Heidi by Johanna Spyri and I marveled with how well she had my children thinking of talking to God and how big truths like "He is always listening" can help them to navigate any problem that might arise. One of the kids said, "Heidi misses her grandfather and she's trying to be strong." And you know that I almost lost it right there. We, too, are far away from home and <i>the people who make it home</i> and while some days we learn to read just like Heidi and there is much that is exciting, we also gaze on fields of green and cows grazing and wonder just how our people are.</p><p>The prompt I found today was this: What makes you fragile? What makes me fragile? It's them.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iJ6VEbD7iJQ/YNFgzoLqRkI/AAAAAAAAIA0/0qN6cim6VUsdq4SYDPcqTKyZhU6dB-OfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s960/191308573_10102381814392188_2843139279964287407_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="672" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iJ6VEbD7iJQ/YNFgzoLqRkI/AAAAAAAAIA0/0qN6cim6VUsdq4SYDPcqTKyZhU6dB-OfgCLcBGAsYHQ/w280-h400/191308573_10102381814392188_2843139279964287407_n.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I'm the Tennessee girl who moved to Alaska knowing no one and started a life. I'm the one who loves a haunted hotel and the idea of the unknown. I'd jump off any height, buckle into any roller coaster, and flirt with disaster at every turn. I'm the girl who decided to homeschool my kids when it went against basically everything I knew. I'm the woman who finished Master's classes in the delivery room at an Army hospital. It was me who stood in waiting rooms trusting my perfect boy in the hands of literal strangers as he struggled with infection after infection. My point is that I am brave. I was. Or I am.</p><p>My fragility comes when my kids are involved. I suddenly care so much more of my life because they're involved. Now, I find myself near panic attacks driving in a new city. I have to bite my lip to ensure I won't tell them to be careful on our weekly hikes. The thought of sending them down a snowy mountain on skis is akin to the fiery crash cartoons us eighties babies grew up with. I can't. I worry if they get too far ahead on their bikes when I'm running. Everything I do apart from them reminds me that one misstep and it could leave them without a mom. These are the thoughts that run through my head each time I do anything that strays from our norm.</p><p>But what makes me fragile is what makes me strong, too. </p><p>I am the woman who juggled two babies under two while my husband served in the military. I am the one who fought for my second born when no one seemed to understand my God-given instinct that he needed help. I am the one who had three boys under three and battled depression and anxiety all the while. It was me who stood up every time and kept moving. I ran a freakin' marathon (or four) just to outrun my difficulties. My God propelled me.</p><p>What makes you fragile has the power to strengthen, too.</p><p>"A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor." - Franklin D. Roosevelt</p><p>Whatever you're going through, keep going, friend. You are so much stronger than you realize. I will never discount all the problems that have left me fragile because I know that His power is made perfect in my weakness.</p><p>Amen.</p><p><br /></p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-90659527137341726352021-04-06T19:08:00.004-07:002021-04-06T19:08:56.408-07:00Students Together<p>We've been on a hiatus in more ways than one. For starters, I'm writing for the first time from a wobbly wooden ikea desk nestled against a beautiful backdrop of natural woods and my words aren't coming as freely as they used to. I've wanted to write, but I've felt the daunting task of summing up an incredible experience while also being so very busy to be too much every time I sit to tackle it. From my vantage point, I see six large windows and beyond them layers of pine. I'm sitting in a fairy tale- one that my husband and I have only dreamed about before. The Weigle's are out West!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kh6spFpBMbs/YG0UC19FhGI/AAAAAAAAH8k/wXCLVusQ8AgSH9PdFZbDz5XnfQ1d0kJPwCLcBGAsYHQ/s960/158455891_10102317356905508_1749044508383712217_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kh6spFpBMbs/YG0UC19FhGI/AAAAAAAAH8k/wXCLVusQ8AgSH9PdFZbDz5XnfQ1d0kJPwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h400/158455891_10102317356905508_1749044508383712217_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>I've had so many questions about what we're doing and I've found them difficult to answer. We got the opportunity back in November to travel to Colorado and we've been back and forth from here and Tennessee ever since. When we started homeschooling years ago, it was a hope of mine that our kids would get to experience more of the world as we made that choice. I didn't want to plan our adventures around one week in the Spring and one in the Fall. I wanted to be able to drop everything and seize the day if an opportunity arose. In 2020, my husband's job became mostly online and we have decided to take advantage of that when we can and so here we are!</p><p>I could talk about how we were here for that blizzard a few weeks ago. I could talk about how we've hiked around Garden of the Gods. I could tell you about the herds of mule deer who visit our front door daily. We've had fox sightings just outside the window. We celebrated Holi in the shrouds of color in the snow. We've spotted Steller's Jay on the porch and in the trees. We've traversed many miles in pursuit of endorphins. We've shivered in the wind and broke a sweat with snow still on the ground. We are learning that the West is one special place, a place where it was 80 yesterday and 30 and snowing again today.</p><p>Two strange happenings inspired me to write today, though. </p><p>As I looked ambivalently outside at the falling snow today, I was startled by a loud sound I wasn't expecting. Thunder! How peculiar to experience both at once. I guess I didn't know that could happen. As my dad would say, "Ya learn somethin' new every day!"</p><p>Furthermore, the other day I desperately wanted to feel as if I'm still a runner, but the house sits at right around 9,000 ft and running here is very difficult. I hoped to head off this mountain into Denver for a quicker and longer run than I had been accomplishing here. With trepidation (I'm still so uncomfortable in cities), I pulled into a familiar park to run circles around a body of water with massive mountain views in the distance. I had been there once before, but on this day it felt new because before I even got a mile in, I stumbled across a field full of groundhogs. Clearly an outsider here, I paused my watch and started snapping photos because surely I had found something others had not. I looked around as everyone else kept walking like this wasn't the coolest happening of the day. Never have I seen multiple groundhogs together much less glancing up to fifty in my eyesight at least. I unpaused my watch and kept a steady pace expecting them to scatter. Some of them scurried away to another nearby hole while others looked at me unfazed. Meanwhile, the people of Colorado were also unfazed by this surprising (to me) community of rodents.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CYZkA34WsIA/YG0PAisc8AI/AAAAAAAAH8c/E3DpvEct1b8uPIJQGSgUyb_dCBj3SO4JQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1280/groundhog.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="779" data-original-width="1280" height="244" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CYZkA34WsIA/YG0PAisc8AI/AAAAAAAAH8c/E3DpvEct1b8uPIJQGSgUyb_dCBj3SO4JQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h244/groundhog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>That was a first.</p><p>Here's to many more!</p><p>The kids and I are students together in a new place and I don't want to waste one moment of it.</p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-78333286355357738232020-11-19T13:29:00.004-08:002020-11-19T13:31:44.408-08:00Festival of Light<p> The past few weeks have been doozies. From the election to the pandemic to the big changes coming our way as a family, my head has been spinning with information and sometimes fear. The Hindu holiday of Diwali came at just the right time. Why would a Christian family celebrate Diwali, you might ask? Well, we are intimately tied to India through our adoption and our homeschool seeks out opportunities to learn about other cultures and customs all the time. We Americanized it inadvertently, of course, with our attire and my lack of Indian food and the whole Hindu integration, but we had fun and the kids learned a lot, I think.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IZ53kkYgBW8/X7bi2np0B2I/AAAAAAAAH4E/eHDdN72EAJcuTBoCTd0FJB20ioo3TL7lwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1280/17CA8707-F9B6-47DB-84CE-AB006B0AFBD5%2B%25281%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IZ53kkYgBW8/X7bi2np0B2I/AAAAAAAAH4E/eHDdN72EAJcuTBoCTd0FJB20ioo3TL7lwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/17CA8707-F9B6-47DB-84CE-AB006B0AFBD5%2B%25281%2529.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>What is Diwali? Well, it first caught my eye when I noticed that in preparation for the holiday, the whole entire house gets cleaned by its inhabitants! We celebrated with a family-wide cleaning spree which always calms me. I tidied up the upstairs while the kids tackled the monumental mess downstairs. The purpose of the first day of cleaning is to have mental clarity and peace to celebrate the five days of Diwali.</p><p>It's customary for shopping to be done for the holiday, too. We did purchase new clothes. In our case, we wore our <a href="https://www.bonfire.com/weigle-family-adoption-tee/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=campaign_page&utm_campaign=weigle-family-adoption-tee&utm_content=default&fbclid=IwAR0k8RmyKn-3PeKgRBAyUmzIYJO7rdk_RqG1cdWijT9xUVHsetHb92C75HI">India Adoption Fundraiser</a> tees that recently arrived on our doorstep.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9T3LM4YIdE/X7bjJpsE4QI/AAAAAAAAH4M/DzLJzGxnAyA5xZXDIEOh_hjKoRM9aBT9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1280/67C2E27C-037A-4D60-8A45-99D82B523B57.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f9T3LM4YIdE/X7bjJpsE4QI/AAAAAAAAH4M/DzLJzGxnAyA5xZXDIEOh_hjKoRM9aBT9gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/67C2E27C-037A-4D60-8A45-99D82B523B57.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>On the second day, many people decorate their homes with rangoli. Colorful designs are made at the entryways of homes with colored powders and flowers and light. Well wishes are made to friends and family and sweet treats are had by all.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SECTC-0ZuG4/X7bjS6vby9I/AAAAAAAAH4Q/4plJjBvXomAsP1m5e1CwpcTILJ8KGqKpACLcBGAsYHQ/s2016/IMG_6482%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SECTC-0ZuG4/X7bjS6vby9I/AAAAAAAAH4Q/4plJjBvXomAsP1m5e1CwpcTILJ8KGqKpACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_6482%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ltX_sgBLZ-8/X7bjp00hrTI/AAAAAAAAH4g/sA8nbgQbxwcv08YF39ZjHKE-rcWu8i8tgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2016/IMG_6480.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ltX_sgBLZ-8/X7bjp00hrTI/AAAAAAAAH4g/sA8nbgQbxwcv08YF39ZjHKE-rcWu8i8tgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_6480.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>The third day is marked with family gatherings, food, prayers, and fireworks.</p><p>On the fourth day, gifts and well wishes are given to friends and relatives.</p><p>On the final day, siblings visit one another and exchange gifts.</p><p>From my understanding and application, Diwali is about embracing light and goodness over darkness. What a great notion to teach my children. I think perhaps God is showing me something through all of this waiting. As I imagine what it must be like to be in India right now celebrating with more lights and colors than I've ever seen, I can imagine that the government there needs a break, too. It reminds me to relax and continue waiting patiently with this adoption. I want to celebrate the children I have here and the one God is orchestrating to join our family one day. The blending of lives is humbling, incredibly humbling...and it's our pleasure to be free to learn about the country where our future family member resides.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dosniGVZJVI/X7bjhtpsiII/AAAAAAAAH4Y/gGqJZeyDGj4nYpSScc5RB-2lfX-55mV0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2016/IMG_6467%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dosniGVZJVI/X7bjhtpsiII/AAAAAAAAH4Y/gGqJZeyDGj4nYpSScc5RB-2lfX-55mV0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_6467%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Happy Diwali to you and yours.</p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-48171166833446536192020-10-24T21:19:00.004-07:002020-10-24T21:29:59.164-07:00How The Light Gets In <p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N62D2wUNLu8/X5T7Vy1oM3I/AAAAAAAAH2s/Do2wBFPTM3cxIMcSNsdlVUZCEw-g82AtgCLcBGAsYHQ/s960/122722825_10158961166748383_93308179700478934_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N62D2wUNLu8/X5T7Vy1oM3I/AAAAAAAAH2s/Do2wBFPTM3cxIMcSNsdlVUZCEw-g82AtgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/122722825_10158961166748383_93308179700478934_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 14px;"><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;">"Ring the bells that still can ring</div></span><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Forget your perfect offering</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">There is a crack in everything</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">That's how the light gets in."</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Every September I look forward to the wild + free homeschooling conference that always seems to breathe new life into my intentions for our learning atmosphere here in our home. It's the perfect start to another school year in our rogue educational experiment. This year was different and as much as we hoped our way of life would just go back to normal, it did not. The conference, among so many other events and activities, was cancelled. Thankfully, it morphed into a simulcast that we could still enjoy a month or so later. With so much loss and hardship this year, it was life-giving for me to be able to have this one day with fellow mamas to soak in ideas, philosophies, and encouragement from veteran homeschooling parents.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">I'm looking back over my notes now and while each speaker talked about different topics, my main take away emerged clearly from my notebook: </span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">This schooling my kids at home can be done and I'm equipped to do it.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">I think I get that from the conference every year, but after ten months of 2020, I needed the reminder. This year has been difficult for many of us in a plethora of ways, but each of us can probably label a fire or two we've figuratively walked through. Mine came in the form of spiritual obedience, a devastating diagnosis, and people exiting my life and pushing me away in rejection, criticizing my motivation to adopt and motherhood in general. Brutal. On top of all the personal reasons this time has been trying, the world was navigating a global pandemic and I was supposed to be used to teaching my children from home anyway. Some days were so so heavy.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">During her latest talk Elsie ludicello says to remember those days. Evaluate the hard and the mundane. Greta Eskridge put it this way: Look for the good and pivot! She said that these times allow us opportunities to "practice grace under pressure." Finally, Ainsley reminded us that calm seas never made a skilled sailor. So when I look back over the fiery furnaces of my life, I can see where I've been refined instead of consumed. Years ago, I became a mom of a special needs child. It was the hardest year of my life as we dealt with surgeries, infections, therapies, and three children under three years old. Our home looked mostly like survival then. There were no family read alouds or historical art studies or morning time scenes. It was cartoons and goldfish and tears and prayers. But my kids were able to see the testimony of their mother as I got up, dried my tears, and tried again every day. I have had days like that this year as I've let people speak into me some things that are just not true. I felt each statement in the way a type 9 would and they cut me to my core. In the same breath, I know these statements weren't about me. Not really. I was just the punching bag. It's okay. Richele Baburina said when fear comes in to keep calm, ask for its credentials, and wish it well on its way out. The bottom line is that no one gets to tell you who you are, what your intentions are, or what you're capable of. Perhaps it's overly Pollyanna of me, but I truly believe the majority of us are trying our very best. Motherhood is the hardest role I've ever had, but it doesn't mean I don't wholeheartedly appreciate that I've been able to do it. It's okay if mothering your children comes at the cost of friendships or job opportunities or whatever. It's the constant laying down of your life for them that honors them and God and that looks different for each person.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">Last year at the conference Toni Weber said this, "Stop checking the rear-view mirror." She went on to say we need to simply show up and do the best we can. God will fill in the cracks. One of the very first bible verses I had my kids memorize was, "No one is righteous, not even one." That was strategic because as I saw them struggling with sharing in those early days I wanted them to know our human natures aren't the goal but we will all struggle with them. I wanted them to know that I am also a sinner who will undoubtedly mess up at times, too. No one is perfect. But I know that my children see my reaction to hardship and are learning from me every time. What will they see? They'll see me rise...again....for them...as long as I have breath. That includes seeking a certain way of life and education, but it encompasses so much more, too. This year has been trying, but aren't we being built in it? Refined by the flames not consumed. Thank you, Lord.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">"Ring the bells that still can ring</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">Forget your perfect offering</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">There is a crack in everything</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">That's how the light gets in."</span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Roboto, arial, sans-serif" style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px;">(Leonard Cohen)</span></span></p>Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-53994667032442718822020-08-02T18:33:00.000-07:002020-08-02T18:35:33.370-07:00Raksha Bandhan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Monday, August 3rd, is Raksha Bandhan! It's an Indian holiday for siblings- a day to promise to love and protect each other always. I didn't announce it here, but we hope to adopt from India and have started the long, difficult process. While we wait on our child, we are learning as much as we can about the culture and introducing traditions into our home school and family. This was our first year celebrating this holiday, also referred to as Rakhi. It was perfect for our own morning time rhythms here. </div>
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Traditionally, the girl children present the boy children with a bracelet known as a "rakhi" and the boys give the girl children a gift and sweets called "chum chum" to celebrate.</div>
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I was able to get my hands on some genuine Indian rakhis for my kids to exchange, but I also thought it would be fun to make our own, too. The kids had fun making the bracelets and chose close friends and cousins to give them to. Our chum chum of the day were pumpkin muffins because I wasn't prepared to present Indian food that early in the morning! Perhaps one day.</div>
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The spirit behind this holiday is to promise to show love and support to one another always. What a beautiful sentiment. I think we've found a new tradition in Raksha Bandhan! Below I'll list some resources we used in teaching the children about this special holiday:</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Thread-Love-Kabir-Sehgal/dp/1534404732/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=thread+of+love&qid=1596375498&sr=8-2" target="_blank">Thread of Love</a></div>
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<a href="https://bollyspice.com/mira-royal-detective-celebrates-raksha-bandhan-with-special-episode/?fbclid=IwAR2KPedjldGMilWIuhbHeFrp_tTFjCEtrCvSZ54mtx4cN_-BRlnlvlhvZJY" target="_blank">Mira Celebrates Raksha Bandhan</a></div>
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(Note: Please be careful when buying rahkis from certain Indian companies. Some seek to make a joke or mockery of adoption, furthering the damaging stigma. Look for companies who are in support of families no matter how they're pieced together!)</div>
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I used a legitimate one and this was the note on the packaging:</div>
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Find one that supports girls! Little girls...what precious gifts from God.</div>
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<b>Happy Raksha Bandhan!</b></div>
<br />Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-42155874308012847782020-03-16T13:39:00.001-07:002020-03-16T16:21:46.955-07:00Suddenly HomeschoolersEveryone and their sister is out there offering up their two cents on recent events and how you can deal if you are suddenly a homeschool family. This post will just be a drop in the bucket. I haven't read any of theirs and I'm sure they have a plethora of advice and resources that would far exceed my own so if it's that you're seeking then definitely go find those pages for help getting started. My two cents is offered up here only because I thought that I might be the only homeschooler you really know and it might be helpful if I shared how we operate. It's my intent that this post doesn't lack empathy but that I might instead give some of you a sense of peace about the coming days and your ability to handle them.<br />
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<i>You can do this</i>. If I can do it, you certainly can. Teaching your children at home looks a lot like mothering them. Because you care to develop them into the people God has created them to be, you attend to their needs on every level naturally. Don't you? You take them to church, to piano practice, to their sporting events- You care about their health physically, spiritually, and academically. If you can recognize that is true than you can absolutely know with your whole heart that you are capable of teaching them. It may not look like the way that you knew school to be. It's not all desks and workbooks and checklists. It isn't wasted time, though.<br />
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<i>Utilize books, games, and conversation as your teaching tools</i>. You certainly don't have to spend a ton of money to teach them. Take the high expectations you feel and throw them out the window. It's okay to spend time with your kids. They are little scientists already. They naturally are learning. Diving into worthy books can teach them a million lessons. Playing games together as a family is a teaching tool and a bonding tool. Mothers already are teachers. Read to them. Build lego cities. Play barbies. You've been gifted with time and while I know the days seem uncertain, you do get more time with your kids today, this week, this month. I like to look at it as a precious gift even on the hardest days.<br />
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Have you read The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis? In it you'll find a warning that is applicable in this conversation. You must understand the way the book is written to appreciate the quote entirely so I won't leave it word for word here, but it discusses the use of fire extinguishers in a great flood. The lesson is this: Don't pile up all the heavy expectations of keeping up algebra, geography, or whatever you feel weighing on you. A fire extinguisher won't help in this flood so don't go doing more of what might be stressing you or your child out. Flooding them with math when they are struggling isn't the answer and the same is true for you. If all the changes that COVID-19 have brought about stress you out, please know that your children will be okay. They aren't going to forget all they've learned. It's not all on your shoulders. Breathe and know that being with them during this time is enough if that's all you have to offer up right now. It's enough.<br />
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Finally, my other piece of advice is to <i>go outside</i>. If you have the ability to follow the guidelines of social distancing, but can do it out in nature, please do so. You won't regret it.<br />
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<br />Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-66540538296461466852019-09-07T22:07:00.001-07:002019-09-07T22:07:52.408-07:00Reconciliation<div style="text-align: center;">
I was listening to a podcast the other day. The guest speaker seemed slightly abrasive and I was just about to turn it off when she said something that really made me think. At first, I thought nothing of it. Then, as I'm walking to my phone to choose something else to listen to, I paused. Did she just call mothers desperate and clingy for a how-to model of sorts? Yeah, that's offensive. I don't like when any mother tries to tell another one how to feel about motherhood. How does anyone know how another feels? But it got me thinking about who I am and how I've changed through the years. It got me thinking about my story and how perhaps His story is different than mine. How do I reconcile that?</div>
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When I signed in to write today, I perused what I've written thus far in this space. It's sweet to see how this school and our home has evolved. It's a bigger picture, though and I think if you go back through and read it's evident that I know there's much more going on here than a decision to homeschool. It's a story of faith, a story of confidence, of trust, identity.</div>
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I don't want to go into our full story again. I know I've given you pieces of it before. But I've felt the evolution of our school changing in this second year for the better. Last year, I knowingly made all the rookie mistakes. I purchased a ton of curriculum and kept switching back and forth, second guessing myself. I crammed their little brains with information on some days, ignoring the fact that they probably weren't learning anything because of the overwhelming schedule. On other days, I threw my hands up entirely and researched boarding schools. Only kidding. But the point is, I was still letting the crowd tell me how to best parent my children. I valued what the crowd thought. I wanted to present my children with a rich reading life, but I wanted them to read on time at appropriate grade level, too. I wanted them to see math in our every day, but I handed out worksheets that were way above their grade level to make me feel better about their progress. I hoped they'd return to the out of doors and grow to love it, but I worried that they spent too much time playing and not enough time sitting at a desk. I was vacillating between two worlds and it was exhausting.</div>
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I'm learning more every day, too. As I focus my eyes on my Creator, this life here at home is less pressure because I know this is His plan for me. When mine is full of worry and doubt, His is full of trust and promise. I never expected to be a homeschooling parent. Never in a million years. Our society often tells us- Go find yourself! God already knows us. He created me to be a mother and teaching them is simply an extension of that. I'm equipped not because of anything I've done, but because of who God made me to be in this season of our lives. That thought alone has brought so much rest and learning into our school year. Our homeschool doesn't have to look like anyone else's. I don't have a beautifully designed, organized, and sparkling clean home. I don't have boxes and boxes of the newest curriculum either. We don't sport the latest hipster threads in our Instagram feed and I'll likely never be organized. What I do have is a desire to change the heartbeat of our family. I have eager hands. I have an open mind. I believe that children need time and I am humbled that I get to buy some back for us. Most days that feels like a gift I get to open every single morning when my curly headed children filter into the living room and snuggle up beside me as I sip my first cup of coffee and they begin recounting their dreams. Maybe we'll pick up a book to read together. Perhaps we'll have discussions- both serious and silly. But we're together and that's a nice place to be.</div>
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<br />Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-6754372233814733482019-07-10T11:42:00.000-07:002019-07-10T11:42:50.280-07:00School Everywhere<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today was one of those days you just want to pretend never happened. I had to take the kids shopping with me into multiple stores- out of necessity, couldn't be prevented- and I bet those words are enough said for you, but I'll elaborate because I have a point. Poor behaviors from the smallest two left me frazzled and frantic and angry. Why is it so hard to walk upright with shoes on your feet and stay near to your mother? I might as well have been asking them to tight rope across New York City. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I stopped for a treat for the oldest two which I had promised for those who could display good attitudes the whole time and listen (for the love) and in an effort to stay true to my word, Kinley and Abel got cake pops. Mama, Saylor, and Merit did not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Homeschooling is simply another way to live life. It's arguably better or worse, but no matter which side of the fence you're on, you should know that I look at it as a way of living. Not superior, certainly not inferior, simply different. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Charlotte Mason said, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We purpose our days around that, trying to learn from everything. I hadn't planned on having a school day today. Our summer schedule is a lot more relaxed, but we recently started trying to memorize multiplication facts. I attempted to introduce it to them before I pushed the memorization. Truly, I thought they were clueless as they looked on with confused stares. I know they're all young for multiplication so I wasn't concerned. It was more about exposure. That was two days ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On the way home, Kinley started saying thank you over and over and over again. When I asked him why he was so repetitive, he replied, "Hold on, I have to think."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Whew! Sixteen thank yous", he said. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wasn't following.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">"There are four of us. You got each of us four things. Four times four is sixteen. I said their thank yous for them."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We get so caught up in check lists, norms, standardized tests, and what all the other kids are doing and we forget that children have the incredible ability to think outside the box we create for them. Yes, they can probably do the worksheet we put in front of them but let's not forget that they are learning all the time. Math is in art, cooking, sports, shopping, and many other normal activities we do with our children all the time. Sometimes on a rough day, something so simple as that realization is enough to keep me going. God is weaving their stories, their education, their life. I'm just a tool. He is in control.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;">“Take a deep breath, mama. This isn’t as dependent on you as you think it is. Give God your “Here I am. Use me.” Let Him carry the burden.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818;"> (Sarah Mackenzie)</span></span></div>
Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-48321595352240784202019-04-09T19:07:00.001-07:002019-04-09T19:07:51.088-07:00Unsocialized?"Spring Break?", she asked as my four children bounced around excitedly in the grocery check out isle beside me as I paid for our lunch. I looked around at several faces while we were there in the middle of the morning on a school day. I was greeted with smiles from most, a tilt of the eyebrow from a few, and one audible giggle from a lady as she watched my crew with delight.<br />
"No", I replied simply.<br />
But as I thought back to those kind glances my way, I braved up and said after a few awkward seconds of silence....<br />
"We homeschool."<br />
I had said it. It was there in that space. Out there for judgment- good, bad, or indifferent. I still don't like to say it. I share online about it in almost obnoxious amounts because I've always been a writer at heart. I share my words when I don't have them in person. I connect through them. With each crafted sentence, you get a peek into our lives. In person, though? I don't know. I like to keep to myself.<br />
The gal ringing me up responded sweetly, chatting with my children and saying the phrase I often hear as I leave the walls of my home with four kids in tow: "You've got your hands full!" It doesn't bother me as it does some. I do have my hands full. Whatever ill feeling I expected to have at the mention of our little secret quickly eroded away as my oldest piped up that we go to school everywhere. He smiled as he said it, almost triumphantly. Meanwhile, Abel was telling her how old they all were, but he couldn't leave out me and the ages of all the grandparents. Saylor was talking to her about the hike we were about to go on and Merit was making a case of how he should get a piece of candy from those pesky exit isles.<br />
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Nope. I didn't worry about their socialization today. I think they're doing just fine.<br />
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Perhaps, personal hygiene is an issue to address, though...<br />
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<br />Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-49816201727776297422019-03-31T16:38:00.001-07:002019-03-31T16:38:43.075-07:00A Salute to One Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I should be at the grocery store, stockpiling food to get my four wild and free homeschoolers through the week. We have at least three daily breakfasts, you know. But instead I have perched on my office chair with an afternoon cup of joe, a mind full of jumbled thoughts, and a quiet home in which to write. My husband did this. </div>
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A lot of times, people ask me what his role is in all of this and initially I thought it was very minimal. I take care of the schooling, the character building, the socializing, and everything else that makes a well-rounded home-educated child (Stop laughing). It's a heavy responsibility at times and I could just let the weight of that crumble me, but I don't (for the moment anyway) and it's due in part to Jordan's help. Truth be told, he was very leery when I first broached the subject of learning at home. Now, he's more of an advocate for it than I consider myself to be. He sees the benefits it has afforded our family and he is my biggest encourager. Besides, none of this would be possible without his efforts at work. The kids and I recognize daily that we are truly blessed with the gift of togetherness that we have because I'm able to stay home with them. What does Jordan do in our homeschool? He keeps the teacher afloat!</div>
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We are coming off of back-to-back vacations and while that sounds quite glamorous, it is also a challenge to take kids off of their routines and expect them to be the darling children they're accoustomed to being. That's not to say you shouldn't do it! By all means, travel with your children if you can. We've had a great last ten days, but my husband knows me well and when we returned home he blessed my introverted soul with alone time by leaving with the children and giving me the house to myself to relax. I have napped, bathed, cleaned, and read in silence and it was the greatest gift.</div>
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It has given me time to reflect on this past year. For the first weekend trip, we went to a family favorite- a house nestled in the mountains of Turtletown, Tennessee where my grandfather's people grew up. It's a place to unplug. It's a place to build a fire and stare at it for hours on end if you choose. The light pollution is so much lower there because there are no large cities around and so the majesty of the night sky is striking outside the farmhouse doors. You are free to visit the chickens and grab breakfast eggs each morning. The creek that meanders down the mountain across the property attracts the kids as soon as we arrive there each time. It's a special place. It's also the place that I remember first thinking about homeschooling my kids and started to purpose a certain rhythm for our lives that continues today. I remember the feeling well. It struck me almost exactly a year ago and I felt it revive me when I was there last weekend, reminding me that I'm living a life I want to live, that God purposed for us to live. What a wonderful feeling!</div>
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The spirit of our homeschool was born in that house. I remember being influenced by the wild and free community while I had my kids in public school. I listened to the podcasts, followed the hashtags, and was inspired by the many wonderful authors that I read during this time in my life. Still, the decision to pull my kids from something so normal was scary for me and it wouldn't come to fruition for four more months. It was there, though, that I started to teach my children gently, trying to school them while they were home from public school and throughout the summer when I still hadn't decided to officially do this thing. In that house or outside that house- I should say- we began our rhythms. It was valuing being outside instead of in front of a t.v. It was slow mornings with everyone pitching in with breakfast and keeping the house tidy. It was finding something neat in nature and drawing it, researching it, and recognizing it next time. It was reading aloud with my children gathered around. It was spending hours talking to each other, not staring at a device. When you go there, you just naturally want to do those things. This last weekend was no different and we had the freedom to leave to do it in the middle of the week without having to plan around a Spring Break schedule.</div>
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This post is sort of a salute to our one year of learning together. We've felt calmer with this style of school, less rushed. A year has gone by and I still feel like I'm not totally sure what I'm doing, but I do know that what we're doing right now is working. We're creating a family culture here that is quite different than a lot of folks, but that's okay! I'm happy with our rogue decision and what we're building together at home. </div>
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The shrieks of my kids just rang through the house so it's back to mothering for me! Thanks for checking in with us in this space. I'll share more of our travels soon.</div>
<br />Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-71252410292524337122019-03-12T10:02:00.002-07:002019-03-12T10:02:43.537-07:00The Marathon of Education<div style="text-align: center;">
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A little over a week ago, I was in Napa, California working on a personal goal of mine that had very little to do with homeschooling. I set off without the children or my husband for something for me. At first glance, it seems selfish to the world to leave my children, spend money on a trip, and create memories that don't include them. Like all parents, my life is woven so intricately with theirs. Every day, I'm with them- fretting over long and short vowel lessons, kissing and bandaging boo boos, keeping track of the expensive cochlear implant that allows my six year old to hear, preparing food twenty million times a day, and creating a home that is a safe place from the rest of the world in hopes that they can grow up a bit slower and sturdier. The pressure is often so heavy, yet I know I'm up for the task. I look down and see these hands that accomplish very much. The tasks don't seem grand and certainly aren't valued by many, but they're of utmost importance to some and I consider it a great honor to be able to do what I do.<br />
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So when I hear the comments about homeschooling, about children as a secondary goal, or anything along those lines, the words grate on my heart. It's insulting. Most don't support our decision to learn at home and that's okay. I make a mental note to address those topics directly when my kids wonder why people quiz them on various topics or they overhear someone asking why they can't read yet, why they aren't in school during the day, or joking that we're hardly providing them with an education. While it may be hurtful to hear, these remarks are reminders to fold in on my family of six and to remember what we are building here in our home and "school." Their education is not what they can do, what facts they can rattle off, or how successful they are at some standard set by someone who doesn't know them. They are people. Already. They have vast interests and talents and dislikes. It's not up to me to force likes upon them. It's obvious because math is Chinese to me, but I would never let my kids know it. They ask to do math every day. Children are eager to learn when you find out what they're interested in and what they're ready to learn in their own time. These hands of mine place a feast in front of them daily. We are surrounded by classical art, music, and nature study. We use games, baking, and unmatched socks to practice math concepts. They learn conflict resolution by being with their siblings all day and our togetherness is building conversation skills and so much love. We sit down and read aloud together every single day. We are not building children, but an atmosphere of a love of learning that I hope lasts their whole lives long. My hope for them is not to go out into the world and blend into it. I want them to live in the world, set apart through their identity in Christ- to be the people that God created them to be. Part of my job is to learn who my kids are and aim to teach them individually and accordingly. Yes, it's a huge undertaking and these hands do very much.<br />
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I've got to believe that when my mom held me as baby she didn't look down at me and think, "Yes, this child will have such a clean home when she grows up. My hope for her is that she makes a lot of money. She'll know fractions better than any fourth grader there is and she'll grow up to know the periodic table of elements in her sleep." No, I'd be willing to bet that what she wanted for me was so much more than that and so much less at the very same time.</div>
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These hands, which are sorely lacking some attention to them with their outgrown nail polish and their sticky jelly smudges, are working all the time. I'm spending time with my children and they're learning through love and experience. My thoughts drift back to the hands that helped to shape me in the same ways- my step-dad teaching me to read, my dad helping me learn to drive, my mother endlessly modeling selflessness, the quality time, strategy, and math aid I got when my Mimi played Yahtzee with me as a child gathered around the table my great grandfather made, the delight my Papaw displays when he tells stories of me as a child reminding me that time together has been the greatest blessing. I see my Nen at my slumber parties passing down the incredible gift of storytelling. I see long conversations with my Aunt Karmen and Aunt Alyson about raising children, special needs, and education and I'm reminded how much other people love my little people and me, too. There are countless others.</div>
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There are more important things than knowing all the vowels by three years old. When these children are grown, I want them to be able to feel all the hands that held them. I want them to look back on our time here learning at home and know that their mother cared to show them the beauty in poetry and laundry, in routine and freedom, in school and home. While I was in Napa, I ran a marathon. I feel like learning at home is a marathon, too. I can't set my kids off on a sprint with that distance and expect them to finish strong. We must find a pace that's steady for each of them and not worry about what anyone else is doing. </div>
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Our end goals are likely different than everyone else, too. </div>
<br />Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-40796239661777420592019-01-30T06:24:00.002-08:002019-01-30T06:24:28.107-08:00Identity<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I hesitate to write anything like this because every time I do I think it opens a door for an attack, but I'm going to say it- Our homeschool feels right. It's 2019 and the first time I've put thoughts to this blog this year. As I sit in the mid morning air of a freshly stoked fire with my computer on my lap, coffee in hand, and a sweet curly headed mop on my shoulder, I feel the way it's supposed to feel on good days.<br />
There's been a great process for me, a discovery of who I am in all of this. When I think toward all the times I've had to reinvent myself or build an identity I was comfortable in, it was always something big. I graduated college and had a job I hated counseling people with drug and alcohol addictions. It was meant to get my foot in the door so that they would aid me in paying for further schooling, but that didn't work out. I cried every morning on my way to work and every day coming home. The desperate lives of the people I tried to help broke my heart, but also began to harden it so I knew I had to get out of there. I ended up back in school anyway working on my Master's until my next big adventure started.<br />
I welcomed my soldier home from deployment and jumped quite quickly into married life as an Army Wife. I capitalized those words because it felt like a role at the time to me, a large undertaking. It was something I had to learn. As a civilian being thrust into a new world of uniforms, mandatory fun, required military ids for everything, gobs of acronyms I'll never know, and an undying support for all the many boots on the ground that we take for granted every day, I was learning so much from the military community. I couldn't begin to list it all here, but the point is that I was molded yet again by God uniting me to this man that I married and my identity was new and budding.<br />
Then motherhood happened. Whew! Time for an overhaul, I guess. It nearly broke me as I suspect it almost does for many of us. Depression ate at me for years after being pregnant then nursing pregnant then nursing. Obviously I'm hardly out of that so I don't want to pretend like that's something I don't deal with from time to time, but motherhood is like this fire in front of me now. It's refining.<br />
Because of my personality, people view me as someone who goes with the flow, maybe even the crowd. But I'm not. I take chances when I need to take chances. I'm capable of change, eager to learn, and open to what God calls me to do.<br />
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I began to feel the stirring in my life to try homeschooling. It didn't make sense to me. I was the one who could not wait for school to start for the kids, if I could just have the hours of 8-3 to myself- I'd be productive, more connected to my Father, happy. But the invisible hand of God was pushing me in a different direction and in His infinite wisdom He started planting seeds in different areas of my life. It sounded so bizarre to me, against the grain. I don't always jump at against the grain. But scripture after scripture was being spoken into my heart especially ones reminding me that I'm set apart. Our homeschool was founded on that notion. Seeking God is now a huge goal of our school. We thought about what is important and we try to implement it as best we can. My changing identity as mother and teacher is only just beginning. It has been a hard year, but it has been incredibly life-giving, too. I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who sees the desires in our hearts, who equips us with everything we need, and who blesses us beyond measure despite our undeserving hearts.<br />
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For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.</div>
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Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-62510055767193068662018-12-20T12:23:00.000-08:002018-12-20T12:23:09.979-08:00Winterfrost<div style="text-align: center;">
Well, I made it to Christmas Break as my childrens' primary educator. At the end of the summer as I was making this big decision, I remember asking the vice principal of their old school if they could come back in January if this all failed miserably. He laughed and told me that preferably I made it until the end of the school year, but absolutely they'd take them back happily anytime...even if it was going to be a few months down the road. I told myself that I would take an honest assessment of how it was going and how they were doing and adjust the plan accordingly. Because this decision was God-breathed, it's not really about me at all. I want to do what He wants us to do as a family.</div>
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We're officially on Christmas Break. I'm looking at this time as a time of rest, of planning, and getting organized for our next semester here at home. It's a lot of work to homeschool. It takes a lot of time and care to teach my kids. We're in the comfort of our home and with that comes distractions of all sorts- the t.v., the housework, the doorbell. There are many times we are interrupted and I have to try to reign back in the little learners. We are enjoying it, though. I'm going to spend some time thinking about how we can make school better in 2019 and implement new routines or curriculum that we've slacked on. I'm feeling good about what we have done, though! </div>
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We joined a book club this year, but sadly weren't able to make the meeting to discuss the book. Still, it was a great experience to read, craft, talk, and create memories together around this story. I love how my kids are going to recall a story later on in life and remember that their mama read that to them as they scarfed down cookies we had made or while we enjoyed our first fire of the cold season. I like how the stories evolve into conversations to be had and brain synapses to connect. I know I won't regret all the time we spend reading out loud as a family so that is one thing that we will most definitely continue and hopefully increase this next year. </div>
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Here's a brief synopsis of the book in case you might be interested in it for your child(ren):</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">Christmas has come, and with it a sparkling white winterfrost over the countryside. But twelve-year-old Bettina’s parents have been called away unexpectedly, leaving her in charge of the house, the farm, and baby Pia. In all the confusion, Bettina’s family neglects to set out the traditional bowl of Christmas rice pudding for the tiny nisse who are rumored to look after the family and their livestock. No one besides her grandfather ever believed the nisse were real, so what harm could there be in forgetting this silly custom? But when baby Pia disappears during a nap, the magic of the nisse makes itself known. To find her sister and set things right, Bettina must venture into the miniature world of these usually helpful, but sometimes mischievous folk. A delightful winter adventure for lovers of the legendary and miraculous.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Looking out the window today, I'd rather see a blanket of white frost or snow instead of the cold rain pouring out of the clouds, but for now we have our story of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Winterfrost-Michelle-Houts-ebook/dp/B00M8GVDKU/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1545337173&sr=8-1&keywords=winter+frost+michelle+houts" target="_blank">Winterfrost</a> that we can visit in our minds any ole time we want!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Do you have any book recommendations for us?</span></span></div>
Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-53157764504937499062018-11-30T14:36:00.000-08:002018-11-30T14:36:15.014-08:00Tabula Rasa?<div style="text-align: center;">
I've been sitting here staring at the same cup of tea for twenty minutes, gently twirling the string connected to the tea bag, watching the colorful herbs swish around with the movement. I have on my mom jeans and a comfy sweater and I've barely brushed my hair. The weather has been a bit gloomy causing some degree of stir-crazy that can easily become a problem if I let it. I've wondered what to do with this space. Is it a place to document our studies? Perhaps, but if that's the case- what a lousy job it's doing. No, I think it's a place for me to openly discuss the dialogue in my head, both good and bad.</div>
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The last time I wrote here, I was coming off of a high from attending my first ever homeschool conference. I was feeling inspired, capable, and excited. Those feelings come and go throughout the week regularly, rarely ever lasting for a full five day school week. Sometimes, it's a daily change. I'll wake up in the morning feeling like we can handle this task of learning at home and I'll pace the door by afternoon wondering when my husband will get home so I can tell him it's time to send these kids... anywhere really.</div>
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It's strange, but I think that's just motherhood in general. We question our decisions sometimes, always seeking what's best for our children. For the most part, though, our homeschool is going well. The rhythms we're creating here give me hope. It wasn't that long ago that I felt like we were barely surviving, but now so many days I see us thriving. We aren't just making it through the day. We're learning to sew, to write, to be kind, or to help with household chores. We're studying different countries and cultures and creating our own right here in East Tennessee. We do math, geography, music, art, language arts, history, and more but the greatest benefits have been the togetherness and developing camaraderie that I know I'll never look back on and regret.</div>
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My background is in psychology. If you've ever studied Psych, you've probably pondered whether nature or nurture is supreme. You probably were asked about the notion of Tabula Rasa, the idea that individuals are born as blank slates that we can fill up. It wasn't until I became a parent that I realized how vain that all sounds. I can write all I want all over my children but if God wants them to be a computer programmer after I toss out all our technology, He'll accomplish it. If I forget to teach them math and a kid becomes an engineer, it's because that's the role they were supposed to fill all along. These children are people, born with certain personality traits, learning styles, challenges, and talents that were ordained by God. My job as their mother and teacher is to study them and find out what I can do to help them each along individually. Ultimately, God is in control of all of this. I know because He called me to it. He hasn't left me to handle it on my own and on hard days I can cling to that.</div>
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The blank slates I thought I had when they were babies are teaching me more than I ever thought possible. They aren't blank slates at all. This year alone they've reminded me to slow down, to savor, to dream. They've taught me that it's okay to be different. It's okay to be a little wild and to venture away to try something new. As the advent season comes upon us, I hope to take more time to listen to the environment in our home, to read excellent books, to cuddle by the fire when it's cold out, and to remember why we were put on this earth to learn and grow.</div>
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<br />Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-28564485649598897042018-10-02T06:16:00.001-07:002018-10-02T06:16:18.316-07:00Not Yo Mama's Homeschool Conference<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Admittedly, I have never been to another homeschooling conference so I suppose I don't know what it's like, but I can use my imagination. The Wild + Free conference last weekend was more of an experience. I was introduced to new artists via live music. I met a new friend who I'm pretty sure was sent straight from God. She was THE FIRST person I began talking to and she lives right here in my very town! I got to hear firsthand some of my favorite bloggers, podcasters, and homeschoolers speak about various topics. I got to hear talented writers discussing the ins and outs of teaching their children at home. Oh, and there were donuts. Delicious donuts. I left inspired to tackle this role another week.</div>
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I didn't take many photos, but I did take a lot of notes. The thing about this homeschooling gig to me is that I don't often go against the grain. I felt sick when I thought about making this decision. I felt God leading me to it, but I didn't know why. I loved the kids' school. And then there were the opinions. Some whispered out of my ear shot and some spoken right to my face. <i>It seems prideful to think you can teach them what they need to know. Won't they be unsocialized? That's a lofty idea. That's a lazy thing to do.</i> Et cetera. I just didn't know a lot of people who thought this was do-able. Many support me, yes. But I had never met so many people who are actually walking this road until last weekend. I loved hearing from the second generation homeschoolers and the adult children who are still reaping the fruits of their parents' labor, hearing that while their teachers weren't perfect they loved being taught at home and are doing well. I enjoyed Greta Eskridge talk about our passionate kids and how to channel that. I took lots of notes there! Leah Boden, who I didn't know before this conference, discussed how we were all a little crazy as she likened us to the scene in Alice in Wonderland at the mad tea party. Elsie Ludicello knocked it out of the park with her closing remarks, too. </div>
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Possibly my favorite presenter was Cindy Rollins, author of Mere Motherhood. She has raised many children, mostly boys...and has survived. Now, she homeschools other people's children. She homeschooled before there was the connectivity of this community online. She took Charlotte Mason's theories and put them into practice. One of the things she said that struck me was, "If you want to have a happy home, you need to start with a happy face." Possibly the hardest thing about being with my children all day every day is the lack of me time for this introvert. I used to savor nap time when I could just for a few minutes or so not have to tend to someone or something. I could sit and think of nothing at all. When there's not any time for me to be alone with my thoughts, I feel busy and busyness makes me grumpy. Simply peeking at our homeschool schedule each day feels like an overwhelming task and I tend to want to knock it all out quickly so we can get to the true learning that occurs when wonder is involved, when all the senses are being used, or when it happens naturally. That's what I want to preserve! Just yesterday, we were out working on the chestnut farm when we spotted a frog. The boys caught it and began studying it without even knowing. Then they took it a step further and painted what they observed. They were learning so much more than frogs, what they eat, what they feel like, and why they do what they do. They were learning alongside their siblings, laughing and enjoying an early day in Fall. They were putting on their happy faces like I was. We were setting the tone for our homeschool, for our family. Sometimes it is that simple. I remembered WHY I want to do this. I'm buying time with my sweet, smart, awesome kids and that makes me happy. And it ought to show on my face as much as possible!</div>
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Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-915482960399505483.post-90477299240544832012018-09-01T13:51:00.000-07:002018-09-01T13:51:40.277-07:00Guilt<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh, mom guilt. I talk about it a lot on my other blogs. I knew it would be a factor this year so I'm trying to give myself some grace, but it's tough. Schooling at home is tough. One minute I'm on top of the world, feeling as if I'm walking with purpose. The next, I'm locking myself in my room to scour my closet for hidden chocolate and checking every nook and cranny for any patience that might be in there, too. I can't really formulate an answer when people ask me how it's going. I don't really know what to say. Most of the time I feel like this is a good, good thing.</div>
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The moments that don't feel as chipper make me question everything. I go back and forth between what exactly I'm focusing my irrational mom guilt on. Some days I think, "My kids are really missing out on making friends with their peers and learning with other adults encouraging them." But don't you know I would have guilt if I had put them in the school system, too because God had already laid this on my heart to do. Have you ever told God no? That's a heavy, heavy guilt that I'll not have, thank you very much.</div>
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Have I disclosed here that one of my children is deaf? I'm assuming most of my readers here know me and know all about Abel. But the guilt is really strong for him. He has a cochlear implant, but it wasn't the 'switch on and study really hard' approach that worked for us. He had some other problems and he is definitely behind his peers. When I thought about mainstreaming him (which was always our goal), I realized the extra services he currently requires didn't just affect the teachers but also the other students in the class. He's still learning to hear certain sounds in language. Forget reading. It was a sobering and heavy realization. No one at the school ever made me feel like that. It's just my own crazy. But it felt like my job to take this on instead of ball hogging resources from the rest of the class. I hope one day I'll be able to step away from the situation and see that ALL kids learn differently and at different paces and there are many children who need a few things tweaked in the classroom. I know this, but when I think of applying it, I only feel guilt that I'm not doing what's right for our family or, on the other hand, guilt that the teacher might feel stretched too thin with him in the class. Teachers are saints. I always wanted to be the parent who could make their big job easier. </div>
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I'm crying as I write because these past few weeks have reminded me of where he is from a public school grade level standpoint. He's on the same level as his newly turned four year old brother. With so many milestones that have passed us by in his life I've seen this, his brother and his younger sister even, reaching them before him at times and I get very blue at the thought of it. Perhaps it's not good to want life to be a little easier on my kid, but I do. I just want one thing to come very easily for him. I want him to be the star of something, ya know? </div>
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Last year he played basketball and well, he needs to practice. But there was one game, I will never forget. He got the ball and was running (and not dribbling) down the court to the wrong goal but he had the most amazing smile plastered on his face and he was happy. He looked free. I want to see that more often...and I do here at home. I see it when he makes some backyard discovery that intrigues him. I see it when he's upside down hanging from a tree or when he's running full force, barefoot across the farm. I see how proud he is when he knows a detail about sharks or dinosaurs that his big brothers didn't know. I get to see him more.</div>
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That's hard...but it's also really really wonderful, too.</div>
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<br />Kacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09118554909161596003noreply@blogger.com0