"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?

Tabula Rasa?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Not Yo Mama's Homeschool Conference

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.

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. 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. 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. 

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!

Guilt

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.

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.

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. 

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? 

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.

That's hard...but it's also really really wonderful, too.