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. 

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. 

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 the people who make it home 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.

The prompt I found today was this: What makes you fragile? What makes me fragile? It's them.

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.

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.

But what makes me fragile is what makes me strong, too. 

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.

What makes you fragile has the power to strengthen, too.

"A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor." - Franklin D. Roosevelt

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.

Amen.

Students Together

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!

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!

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.

Two strange happenings inspired me to write today, though. 

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!"

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.

That was a first.

Here's to many more!

The kids and I are students together in a new place and I don't want to waste one moment of it.

Festival of Light

 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.

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.

It's customary for shopping to be done for the holiday, too. We did purchase new clothes. In our case, we wore our India Adoption Fundraiser tees that recently arrived on our doorstep.

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.

The third day is marked with family gatherings, food, prayers, and fireworks.

On the fourth day, gifts and well wishes are given to friends and relatives.

On the final day, siblings visit one another and exchange gifts.

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.

Happy Diwali to you and yours.

How The Light Gets In

"Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in."

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.

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: 

This schooling my kids at home can be done and I'm equipped to do it.

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.

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.

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.

"Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That's how the light gets in."

(Leonard Cohen)

Raksha Bandhan

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. 

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.

 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.

 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:

Thread of Love

Mira Celebrates Raksha Bandhan

(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!)

 I used a legitimate one and this was the note on the packaging:

 Find one that supports girls! Little girls...what precious gifts from God.

Happy Raksha Bandhan!

Suddenly Homeschoolers

Everyone 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.

You can do this. 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.

Utilize books, games, and conversation as your teaching tools. 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.

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.

Finally, my other piece of advice is to go outside. 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.

Reconciliation

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?

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.

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.

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.

School Everywhere

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. 

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.

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. 

Charlotte Mason said, 

"Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life."

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.

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."

"Whew! Sixteen thank yous", he said. 

I wasn't following.

"There are four of us. You got each of us four things. Four times four is sixteen. I said their thank yous for them."

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.

“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.” (Sarah Mackenzie)

Unsocialized?

"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.
"No",  I replied simply.
But as I thought back to those kind glances my way, I braved up and said after a few awkward seconds of silence....
"We homeschool."
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.
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.

Nope. I didn't worry about their socialization today. I think they're doing just fine.

Perhaps, personal hygiene is an issue to address, though...

A Salute to One Year

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. 

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!

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.

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!

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.

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. 

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.

The Marathon of Education

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. 

Our end goals are likely different than everyone else, too. 

Identity

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.
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.
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.
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.
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.

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.

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.

Jeremiah 29:11

Winterfrost

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.

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! 

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. 

Here's a brief synopsis of the book in case you might be interested in it for your child(ren):

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.

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 Winterfrost that we can visit in our minds any ole time we want!

Do you have any book recommendations for us?