Better Things To Do.

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Matthew does not like to read books in front of people. He’s done it before, but on rare occasion. It never bothered me before because I figured that when he got more comfortable with it, he would. So we’d practice a little bit a few times a week and for a while, he got better and better. Until eventually, he stopped wanting to altogether.

I don’t know what changed. He’ll blast through his Reading Eggs levels, which obviously require reading throughout and on the sparing occasion that we pull out the flashcards for a game like “parking garage”, he’ll rattle off each one like he’s reading his own name. He’s even raced Mary in a game of good ol’ fashioned flashcard quizzing and really held his own. But if you ask him if he knows how to read a book, he’ll tell you no. He’ll tell you no, because he’s afraid you’ll make him do it.

So I’ve stopped making him.

I hate it. I really do. It’s been about two or three months since he’s willingly read a book without being bribed even a little. But I had to take him saying that as a sign that we were moving too fast. Teaching him to love reading is obviously the bigger priority. It wasn’t something I was willing to compromise for the sake of getting in a little practice.

The other day Mary and I got into a conversation about how inappropriate it is for her to go around exaggerating all the time. (She told a neighbor that she didn’t want to have a sleepover at our house because we’re too “poor” to have any good food in the house. Good food being popcorn and potato chips - which I’m always telling her it isn’t logical to blow our food budget on. I think I’m teaching her a practical life skill. She tells our neighbors that we’re poor.) She comes back at me by saying that I exaggerate all the time.

Me: Mary, I don’t think that I do. I’ve very conscientious about the example I lead for you guys. I wouldn’t knowingly do something right in front of you that I’m always trying to teach you not to.

Mary: Well, you do! I can’t think of anything right now, but I know that you do!

This went on for about a day and a half. Every time she’d drastically exaggerate something, I’d try to remind her that she was doing it again and to work on keeping things realistic. She’d insist that I have no room to talk. Finally, the next day, she comes out of the kitchen.

Mary: I thought of something! It always drives me CRAZY that you do this! Yes! This is something you exaggerate about!…

Me: Okay. What?

Mary: Matthew reading. He can’t read. He even says that he can’t read books. He can read words because you just show him the same words all the time. Like a list or something. And then he remembers it and then you tell people he can read.

This was incredibly frustrating to me because it’s true that Matthew tells people that he doesn’t know how to read books and it’s also true that he doesn’t like to show other people that he can. There’s nothing I can do about this, and explaining it makes me feel like an asshat. Especially explaining it to a twelve year old who relishes the opportunity to make her mom feel like an asshat. I remember that feeling. It feels good. Although, if I ever thought I had my mom proven wrong somewhere at that age, I was way smarter than to forthrightly gloat about it. That would have only gotten me grounded for all of junior high. I AM NOT EXAGGERATING. You don’t know my mom.

Everything I said after this was true. But it didn’t make me feel any better. You know how when you walk into a store and the theft detector thing goes off cause you’re carrying some kind of magnet in your pocket or something, even though you’re not? And people look at you, and you feel uncomfortable even though you couldn’t have possibly stolen anything because you just walked INTO the store? And you know this. You know that you’re not guilty of doing anything wrong. But you can’t help feeling like everything you do after that only makes you look even more guilty -- when you weren’t even guilty in the first place!

That’s basically where I was. Knowing, all the while that if I were my own mom and Mary were me at that age, she would have never even been humored with a response. I don’t know if there’s a female -- or some kind of mom-version of the word emasculating, but if there is, that would be how I felt. Totally e-mom-ulated. Like she was the mom and I was the crumb-faced kid with guilt written all over her face.

Me: Mary I have videos I can show you where he’s reading books from start to finish. And he’s struggling to sound out the words, so you can clearly tell he hasn’t just memorized the story. And I don’t just show him a list of words. I haven’t done that since he was two and I first learned that he could recognize them. Other people have seen him do it. You’ve even seen him read a thousand different sight words before. I can’t help that he doesn’t like reading entire books in front of other people. I can’t force him to read in front of an audience on command. He’s four. But I have never exaggerated about anything Matthew could do. Ever. He’s not a circus animal. He’s my child. That would be like saying the way he really is, isn’t good enough for me.

　

Like I said, I’m pretty sure if I were having a conversation like this with my mom at that age, my mom wouldn’t have dignified my attempt to call her out with a response. She would have told me I was out of line, that she doesn’t have to defend herself to me, put me on some kind of punishment for being disrespectful and then been done with it. On the one hand, this made me a very respectful child who grew into a very respectful adult and I like that about myself because I’ve always earned respect from others very easily in return. On the other hand, to this day I don’t always pipe up about things when even my parents try to convince me that I should.

I have to tell Mary she’s out of line for being disrespectful so often that I’ve chosen to pick my battles. If there is any room to give her the benefit of the doubt so that I can hear her side of things, I will. And this was more like a friendly debate than a heated argument. Although I was starting to feel a little heated now. I’m already afraid of people thinking this; here she is, trying to call me out on it; and other than pulling up some videos - which, again, I can do but I feel small for resorting to - there’s nothing I can do.

Just then, Matthew and his friend come into the room.

Matthew’s friend: What are you guys talking about? Matthew reading?

Mary and I: Yeah.

Matthew’s friend: Matthew reads to me all the time. Matthew loves to read at my house. He reads in front of everybody. Sometimes we read books together. I like Chicka Chicka Boom Boom! He helps me with the words sometimes.

　

It felt good. I really wish I didn’t care, but I do. I’m conflicted with myself sometimes because I don’t know if I should be, but I am so proud of him for being smart. In much the same way, I don’t know if I should be - but I am proud of Mary for being unafraid to speak her mind, especially because at her age, I never was. Maybe that’s why, on some level, I don’t immediately ‘shut her up’ when I have the chance to call an authoritative shot and end the conversation.

That must be it. Because on a conscious level, all I want to do sometimes is sew her lips shut and say I AM MOM: I WIN BY DEFAULT!

Scheduling: A Jumping Off Point.

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It’s driving me nuts that until I get my hands on the curriculum, I only have so much power over planning our home school schedule for the year. It’s only the beginning of summer, but there are so many things to juggle, and this is so new to us, that if I don’t at least begin to loosely lay out some kind of a plan for how I’m going to tackle it all now, I won’t be able to. Or I will, but not before putting myself at risk for a stress related brain embolism.

To help ease my paranoia about not having enough time to plan and deadly things happening to my brain, I’ve compiled a list of the best advice for starters from around the web. (First awesome thing I’ve learned about home schooling: more people than you realize already do it. And they are like a really friendly cult: everyone wants to help get you in.) From that, I’ve decided to organize our year in the typical 9 week intervals that the public schools use for Marking Periods. A lot of people get creative here with all kinds of cool ways to break up the school year so that they have birthdays off and get to plan a number of cheap family vacations at weird times that nobody else can. Mary and I decided it would be best to keep things as close to what she’s already familiar with from public school as possible. So she’ll have regular 9 week marking periods, a classroom for all of her stuff, be given end-of-unit testing, and if she gets caught passing a note to Matthew in geometry I’ll suspend her for three days. ;-)

Okay, so…

In 9 week intervals, I’ll:
-Review the curriculum
-Make a schedule and color code each week
-Use the local school district calendar to schedule breaks/days off that coincide with her friends’.
-Plan relevant field trips/family appointments and pencil them in
-Schedule a built-in catch-up day
-Have goals for what to finish/turn in by the end of each week
-Print and laminate everything we’ll need (for all 9 weeks) ahead of time
-Make a supply list (for projects, etc.) and get all of them before we start
-Have each day cover a different elective
      -- gym, art, choir, MEK meeting, library/computer
             *computer-skill assignments will be done at the library so that the little kids can play and read in the children’s section with friends. When her assignment is done, she can check out a new book.

　

It’s recommended that about 40 minutes be spent on each core subject, with about 2 total hours a day typically being spent given one-on-one instruction. Don’t quote me on this, but I want to say that something like 180 days out of the year have to be scheduled school days. Mary obviously has a lot of public-schooled friends, so I’d like for her days off to coincide with theirs. If we’re able, her friends could spend the day with us and maybe I could plan to take them out to a movie or lunch at the mall or something. I’ve also been told that a good idea is to tell the state that your school year stretches a little longer than you plan for it to, that way if you need longer than you thought to finish a part of the curriculum or have unplanned days to make up for, I don’t know… the world won’t explode in your face.

I’ve heard a lot of people say that because only about a third of the typical public school day goes to actually teaching academics, that their kids are able to successfully blow through all the day’s work in a couple of hours at home. Realistically, we’re new to this and it isn’t like our home life is without it’s own distractions, so - while I can see this being true for a lot of reasons - I’m setting aside the recommended 40 minutes to an hour for each one. If we finish earlier, great. If not, we’ll order take out for dinner and I won’t fold the laundry. So really it’s a win, win.

Based on sample schedules provided by other home schooling families and the way our personal household runs throughout the day, I came up with this as a rough plan; just something to start with that we can work our way out from.

Typing - 15 minutes of keyboarding exercises
Prayer journal - 5 - 10 minutes
           I’ll have a scripture or quote for her to copy everyday. Then she can record her thoughts on it or a prayer she’d like to make herself. (She’ll also do them in cursive because it’s something she’s asked me specifically to teach her. The girl’s almost a teenager and she’s never had to write more than a few practice sentences in cursive before. From third to forth grade, I remember every paper and assignment I turned in had to be written in cursive. So, yeah, we’ll work on that.)
Pledge of Allegiance and morning prayer:
            This is absolutely my favorite piece of God’s word in regard to my kids. Short, sweet, (easy to get) and refreshingly, to the point. I would love for this little acknowledgement to be something we start each day by saying aloud with the good ol’ P of A -- which, by the way, I’m also pretty stoked about teaching to Matt-man.

            “Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
and He will make your paths straight.”

Bible study - 10 minutes
Language Arts - 40 minutes
         + reading - 20 minutes
Science - 45 minutes
Math - 40 minutes
Lunch
Walk to the park or trail with Scarlett and Matthew
Social Studies - 40 minutes
Elective (‘gym’, art, choir, MEK meeting, computer/library) - 30 - 60 minutes
               MEK is a Christian junior high home schooling group that only meets once a month, so that day will be open to other things most of the time. Maybe we’ll start a light Spanish curriculum? Maybe we’ll leave it open? I’ll talk more about our electives in another post.)
Chores (includes tidying of schoolroom) - 30 minutes

　

　

Since Mary’s not a morning person, I plan to give her a slow start to the day with some easier, independent work to kick off with while I enjoy some early morning time with the younger two. Then, I plan to get as much of the heavier material (or “mom-intensive”) as I can, knocked out of the way with Mary in the mid to late morning window, when Scarlett naps and Matthew’s already accustomed to having ‘quiet time.’

With that in mind, I also know that there will be times aplenty when Matthew decides to switch it up on me just because he’s four and four year olds are awesome at being unpredictable and difficult. I’ll need to have a plan in place for keeping him safely in and out of our hair in exactly the right measure. One thing a lot of seasoned home-schooling parents say helps with these ages is that 1.) preschoolers are not only eager to, but can often benefit a great deal from getting involved - even if all you do is set them up with a binder of their own “work” (mazes, letter-tracing, etc.) to work on in the same area while you teach. 2.) middle-schoolers are old enough to do a surprising amount of the work independently. So she’ll need me to instruct, demonstrate and evaluate her work. But in between, she’ll have time to actually complete assignments and study while I keep Matthew and Scarlett from juggling knives in the kitchen or drinking shampoo.

After lunch we’re going to take a daily walk to the park or trail for a little ‘recess’ and some extra one-on-one time with the littles before finishing up the last of our subjects and getting out of the house for our afternoon errands/elective activities.

We’ll wrap everyday up with chores, which will include tidying of the schoolroom. That’ll mark the end of her day.

Mid-afternoons are usually pretty easy on me, with Scarlett napping and then playing quietly out in the yard before dinner needs to be started. Mary and Matthew are almost invariably playing at a friend’s house around this time, so the house is quieter now than any other time of the day. This is usually when I pick up around the house, fold laundry and do one major chore for the day, but before I do, this will be the time I set aside to grade and file papers.

　

I have another post planned about our elective activities, another one planned about managing the younger two while I teach, another one planned about the makings of our school room and absolutely zero planned about Scarlett beginning to potty-train or Matthew making a name for himself at summer camp or Spencer being in Canada for two weeks or Mary's birthday coming up or our new kitten almost dying. I think it's safe to say that I am officially geeking out.

"First, Lord: No Tattoos."

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In preparation for Spencer’s 12 day trip to Canada last week, I was in the market for a new book. I’ve been making my way through a hard-lived copy of Gone With The Wind passed down from my grandmother to my mom to me, a little bit everyday for the past six months. It’s taken me a long time to make it where I am in the story because I only read it in five to twenty minute increments between the time I climb into bed every night and the time Spencer starts bitching for me to turn out the G-damn light already. (I really should remember to pick up a book light. Or a Kindle. Or a new husband.) (Psyche.) (Like I can afford a Kindle..) Also, that shit is like four Bibles put together and sometimes I fall asleep thirteen letters in. I was looking forward to getting a lot of reading in this week, but I wanted something new - preferably something I could finish before he got back. Something that wasn’t Fifty Shades of Mind Cheating with Fictional Characters.

After finding this well-timed excerpt posted by Melody Godfred on Write In Color, I picked up Tina Fey’s Bossypants during my trip to Target the following day. It was incredible. It would have been exactly what I was looking for, if it hadn’t been so hard to put down that I finished it the day before he left. Dangit.

I loved the whole thing so much that I had to repost the original excerpt that inspired me to get the book. Read it. Love it. Pretend you don’t relate to the part about dry-humping in cars. Then go buy the book so that you can startle people when you spit cereal out laughing. On second thought, don’t read it in front of people. Unless, like me, you look totally adorable suppressing a creepy smirk and then snorting by surprise and then laughing unattractively in front of neighbors with milk dripping down your chin. (Don’t feel bad, we can’t all pull it off.) Here’s a small taste of what you can expect to fall in love with inside of this book: (Besides Tina Fey.) (Not that I've ever Mind-Cheated with her or anything.)



*Pay attention, Little B Word-ettes. This is for you.

A Mother’s Prayer For It’s Daughter.
By Tina Fey

"First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered,

may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half

And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her

when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.

Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes

And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long,

For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day –

And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever,

that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers.

And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister,

Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends,

For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord,

that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.”

-Tina Fey

　

So, now that I’m out of new reading material again, what’s another good one to pick up? Have you gotten into any good, light-reads recently? A friend told me once about a quirky, little book that’s actually written from the perspective of the family dog. I remember scrunching my face (in that very attractive way that I do) when she told me that. But apparently, it made quite a buzz around the place that she worked and came highly recommended. I can’t remember what it was called though… and ever since Marley and Me, there’ve been a lot of books about dogs.

I’ve got, like, seven more days ‘til The Light Nazi comes home. Help me out! What should I read?  

5 Inexpensive Crafts for Kids

Pin It A Guest Post, by: Heather Smith


*Sorry for the absence guys. (And by guys I mean the three people who might have noticed I haven’t posted in a week. And by that, I mean my mom and the very patient woman who wrote this guest post for me a few weeks ago - and has ever since been waiting accommodatingly for me to actually publish it. The other person is obviously Oprah.) It's been crazy around here - throwing a school room together for Mary, getting Matthew pet mice, seeing my husband off for a long trip to Canada, caring for a new kitten who likes to poop just a few rooms shy of the filthbox in which she’s supposed to, reading a new book, taking care of a sick Scarlett, running (while losing a ton of nothing; thanks for noticing), and catching/burying mice that keep getting loose because my husband and I drastically underestimated just how four our son actually is. However, you’ll be tickled to hear that with my husband out of the house for a few weeks now, I should have much, much less time to blog than I normally do - as I won’t be waking up with a 3:00 a.m. alarm everyday. I KNOW I AM. In fact, y’know what? Here’s a guest post now. Read this while I go take a nap.

Take it away Heather.

　

　

5 Inexpensive Crafts for Kids

Whether it is a rainy day or you are looking for a fun craft that won’t break the bank, there are 5 awesome and fun options for you and your kids. Check them out!

Pop stick Photo Puzzle: Line up and lay flat about 16 Popsicle sticks so that they are all touching. Use a mod podge brush to lightly brush on the back of a 4 by 6 photo of your choice. Place onto the Popsicle sticks and then mod podge the photo face. Let it dry for a bit, flip over and then use an X-acto knife to cut the pieces of the puzzle. Be careful and always supervise this fun craft with your kiddos.

Egg Carton Animal Noses: Using cardboard egg cartons are best for this project. Cut the carton by each egg section. Gather supplies like paint, pipe cleaners and buttons for the embellishments on the animal your child chooses. You will want some sort of yarn or elastic band to adhere the nose to your child’s face. Paint, decorate and use glue to create the cutest animal nose! Punch holes in the side of the cut carton piece and thread your elastic band though, and ta dah a fun animal nose!

I Spy Bottle: Save your old large water bottles for this craft. I Spy Bottles are great for little ones learning the basics. Partially, fill an old water bottle (make sure it’s dry) with either: birdseed, rice, sand, lentils or small pasta. What is great about I spy bottles is that you can have ‘themed’ bottles. Think about special holidays or learning techniques, like the alphabet. Once you choose your theme find small objects to place in the bottle. An alphabet theme can contain small written letters on paper, a picture of a dog, a button and a crayon to correspond with a letter.

Dinosaur Feet: These are fun and always a crowd pleaser. Dinosaur feet make a great birthday craft for those pre-historic themed birthdays. All you need is old and empty Kleenex boxes. All you need is on box for each foot and you may need to cut the opening a little larger for your kid’s feet to fit comfortably. Use paper, markers, and paint to create dino feet! Fun tip: Use colorful kitchen sponges, cut into triangles for the toe nails on the front of each box.

Glowing Balloons: This craft can be a fun one for under $3.00 and last you all night! Head to your local dollar store and buy colorful balloons and glow sticks. Blow up the balloons and place the lit glow stick inside of the balloon. Lots of fun for an evening in with the kids or a birthday party!

Remember to always supervise all craft making and encourage your children to have fun with it! Happy crafting!

　

　

Author Bio
Heather Smith is an ex-nanny. Passionate about thought leadership and writing, Heather regularly contributes to various career, social media, public relations, branding, and parenting blogs/websites. She also provides value to nanny service by giving advice on site design as well as the features and functionality to provide more and more value to nannies and families across the U.S. and Canada. She can be available at H.smith7295 [at] gmail.com.

The First Steps of Homeschooling: A Rough Plan.

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Everyday since we’ve made the decision, my heels dig further and further into the ground. Ask my husband; for someone who’s normally pretty open to debate about things (especially weighty, pivotal decisions concerning our kids.. after all, it takes a village), this is one thing I’m convinced can’t be done another way.

I have a lot of reasons for wanting to home school Mary in 7^th and 8^th grade. But one of the most prevalent - one of the reasons that just keeps bubbling to the surface like a beach ball under water, is the fact that my role in her life right now has become entirely too negative. My ability to parent her; to inspire her and encourage her and build her up to believe that she’s capable of anything she sets her inherent, female extremism to, is being smothered by my obligation to punish her so often for the dumb shit she does at school.

With eight hours a day there, (plus the all too occasional detention), friends and other family occupying so much of her time - I don’t get enough with her as it is. Whatever measly helping I’m left with at the end of it all is strained incessantly by the fact that she is so constantly on some kind of grounding-til-she’s-dead.

We’re caught in a cycle: She behaves well at home. She goes to school and gets into trouble. She comes home and has to be punished. She goes back to school and gets into more trouble. Eventually, we feel like we’re discouraging her by having to punish her so constantly, so we let up a little, hoping some positive family experiences will encourage her to put more effort into her behavior outside of the house. She goes back to school and still gets into trouble. She comes home and we have no choice but to punish her. It happens so often that I think she’s become numb to it, kin to the way a toddler doesn’t even hear the word, “no” after a while.

What’s really important about this time is that she’s still at an age where she wants to have a relationship with me. When we started scheduling her father-daughter nights, she was disappointed to find out that didn’t automatically mean that there would be regular mother-daughter nights too. Maybe she just wanted one more night a month to be to be spoiled with food I didn’t cook. But it still meant a lot to me.

　

I don’t want to shield her from the world or box her in. The motivation behind this is deliberately the opposite: to be a positive, proactive force in her life that she won’t want to ignore. Right now I’m a whisper among a thousand screaming voices, vying for her values. If I stay where I’ve been all year, it won’t be long before she doesn’t hear me at all. I’ve got to be someone she respects if I’m going to compete with all she’s up against in high school. I can’t do that if all I am in her life is a buzz-kill.

Homeschooling her will give me the opportunity to change that from up close and personal - to be a more present authority in her life, to make pleasant memories with her, to be someone she gets used to learning from and being inspired by. At the same time, I’ll have the chance to work with her academically one-on-one until the gaps she’s created for herself by getting so distracted early on in the school year fill themselves in. She’s gotten buried by her own, developing apathy this year and what’s worse: she doesn’t believe us enough to instigate a change. I’m not a helicopter parent. But I’m stepping in because I know that if I don’t do it now - whether it’s because of behavior or GPA, I’ll wish I did when she’s in high school and too far swayed by the sketchy society of deeper New Castle for me to steer in a new direction.

　

Okay, so how do I do that?

Well, I don’t know yet. That’s what I’m trying to map out now.

　

We have our fair share of work to do academically. And because I’m new to this, I’m putting my sweat and blood and panic in that part most. We’re going with a Charlotte-Mason approach and we’re sparing no expense when it comes to curriculum - which is not the typical way for us to treat any kind of expenditure. (Just ask my husband - who’s worn the same two shirts for almost the entirety of our marriage, by the way - when the last time he bought a piece of clothing for less than half-off of a sale price was.) But we’re doing it this way because I want to basically idiot-proof myself with this as much as I possibly can. Knowing that we weren’t skimping on curriculum was important to me, so we decided to go with a complete round-up of all the most individually, highly-rated courses for seventh grade. Ones that weren’t just the most comprehensive, but the most hands-on and visually/physically interesting, because that’s how Mary learns. There are basically three different primary types of learning styles: visual, auditory and movement. Being just a heartbeat shy of hyperactive, Mary is definitely a mover. I also like this one because our math curriculum comes with every lesson on DVD, which is GREAT NEWS for the both of us. It’s the only subject I’m not actually geeking-out about getting the chance to teach. I’ve always been proficient in math, but it’s definitely the one subject from which I’m glad to have a little bit of the pressure taken off the top. I’ll have to know it well obviously, but it won’t be entirely on me to brainwash her into knowing.

This month, I’m purchasing the whole curriculum so that I have the entire summer to make my way through it myself. I’ll identify possible trouble areas, plan corresponding activities/field trips and basically plan out the year around her elective/extra-curricular activities. I figure I’ll make a rough sketch of our year to start with, and maybe a few weeks in, reevaluate it based on our hands-on experience. From there, I’ll set up a more concrete routine on a month by month, week by week and day by day basis.

But we have other things we want to work on from home, too. Things like self-esteem, organization, character, life skills, and faith.

　

Self-esteem is number one. Mary oozes confidence on a superficial level. She’s beautiful, funny and incisive enough to know it. I worry about her below the surface though. She gets frustrated easily and quits things before she has the chance to fail. She isn’t easily bothered by disappointment. She doesn’t often get her hopes up about things.

This is an age of transition and the first real steps she’ll be taking to self discovery, so I don’t get my panties in a bunch over the fact that she’s trying on different skins right now. I used to wear a wallet chain for crying out loud. But I am bothered by the fact that she’s emulating so many dozens of girls who don’t have a positive self-image, who do even the right things for the wrong reasons. I want her to have such a rock solid foundation of self-worth that nothing can break it down. I need the chance to watch her succeed and be there personally, to high-five her for it. You know, like a Sunny D commercial.

Organization will be at the ground level of everything we do. It’s just one of those life-skills she’s gotten by with never really picking up on for way too long. Like covering her bowl of oatmeal before she puts it in the fridge to save for later. (Or even bothering to take the spoon out, which she has been not-bothering-to-do for six years now.) I start the beginning of each school year gearing Mary up with all of these cute products and folders that I think will motivate her to stay organized or take even some level of pride in her work - and in a week, everything I’ve bought is in shambles. Binders are coming apart at the seams, papers are shoved into every crevice of her book bag, pages are falling out of brand new books. In a month, all 100 pencils, 10 pens, at least 1 notebook, a ruler, both sharpeners and a calculator are invariably lost forever.

She somehow beats everything that she’s ever been handed to a pulp. (I’m talking technology to top-of-the-line furniture to small pets.) When Mary was at school all I could do was nag her to take care of her stuff and then pull my own hair out when she didn’t. I’m looking forward to teaching her more than just how important it is to take pride in her work, in herself and in her things. I want to actually follow up with all of those irritating lectures by giving her fool-proof, practical ways to achieve organization in the first place, and then helping her to maintain them with little bits of regular, low-hassle, upkeep. These are the little ways I can see being both an invested parent and a teacher will mesh together nicely to benefit her as a whole. She’ll be accountable for more than just the final product handed in at the end of the class. Which is really just a not-so-threatening way of saying that I get to be on her ass like wet on water.

　

She’ll be taking notes, keeping logs and contributing to the maintenance of her portfolio and school room. (Which of course, makes her want to not have a school-room at all - ah, this is a fun age.) I want to make it fun, though. One idea I had is to challenge her - once she gets her laptop this summer - to try one, new Pinterest idea a month that she thinks might help her to become more organized. (Being crafty is definitely one of her strong suits.) And then together, we can make a project out of it. (Note to anyone who actually knows Mary: I’ve brought this idea up to her and have mentally recorded her saying it could be fun. So before she gets her too-cool-for-anything-I-ever-suggest-ever pants on and tries to tell you that it’s dumb just because I suggested it, I have proof otherwise. So suck it. I mean, so there.)

We’re also going to be finishing the back room of our basement (something we were going to do anyway) and use it this year for a classroom! Once we get the drywall up and slap some cool paint on it, I want Mary to have a say in how we set it up, organize and decorate it. It should be a really cool project to help get everyone excited about the upcoming change. I’m thinking colored chalkboard paint, walls of stenciled pegboards, a clean, white, oversized dry-erase boards and cool, Pinterest-y ways to display all of her projects.

　

Character development. We’re going to be focusing on social priorities by hopefully getting involved in volunteer work or charity events this year. Right now the most important thing to Mary is impressing her friends, which is normal - just like a toddler being maniacally possessive over every toy within his field of vision is normal. I’m not trying to stop Mary from being twelve, but I do want to teach her that there’s more to being popular than just keeping up with trends and pretending you get all of your clothes from Ambecrombi and Fitch. There’s a social responsibility that comes with having a lot of people look up to you - whether they’re friends or smaller siblings - and she has the attention of both. I’ll admit that this one is a little intimidating to me because I’m not sure where to start yet. But this is something I’ve had planned to do with her for a long time, so I’m really psyched that we’ll finally have the time to find a good cause for which she’s qualified to lend a hand. An animal shelter? A children’s hospital? A local event for a cause? Maybe I could just have her read to her little brother without calling him names or making him cry three times in the process. Would that count?

　

Life skills. I really try not to peg my kids’ personalities too much. I don’t want to bog them down with my own expectations. But I can tell you right now, Mary isn’t going to be the type to settle down early like I did. I think if she does, she’ll regret it. She’s a lot different than I am and a cookie-cutter lifestyle won’t satisfy her itch to move around. Even as a kid, I always got the most enjoyment out of thought-provoking, stationary activities: reading, writing and carving away at an easel on the back porch until my butt went numb and I had to readjust my eyes when I looked away. Mary’s a mover. She’s going to need a flexible, physical job; she’s going to need freedom and she’s going to need life skills beyond knowing her way around a garden bed. We always half-earnestly joke that she’ll either grow up to be an apartment hopper like too many people we know, never staying in one place long enough to house-train whatever pet she bought on a whim that month, or travel the world.

Before she’s an adult, Spencer and I want her to learn things from all sides of the spectrum, like how to ride a horse and shoot a gun and make a soufflé and drive a boat. We want her to feel capable going into adulthood and I think having a wide range of skills to draw from is essential to that. I really like this homeschooler’s ideas on teaching her kids about being street-savvy (reading subway maps, navigating a new city…) and understanding that there are layers to the world around them, so that when they are “backpacking through Europe or Asia one day,” they will have no fear of the unknown. Of all my kids, I picture Mary when I read that. I don’t want to stop her extracurricular activities at sewing and softball. I want to give her the first-hand experience of being out in the world, around all different kinds of people in new ways, so that she can learn to navigate any situation with a balance of pure heart and endowed judgment. I want this for all of my kids.

And there’s faith, bringing this post to a record-breaking four pages in length. If you’re still reading… One of the dumbest decisions Spencer and I made early on with Mary - although we had our reasons for it at the time - was taking her out of a religious, private school, incredibly small classroom setting. In hindsight, I’d kill for that kind of “unsocialized” environment now, but by the time we started to feel like it would be a better fit for her than the other options available for free, the school closed down due to a shortage of funding.

I don’t like talking about our religious beliefs in here because, even though personally, I’m very strong in my convictions, I’ve honestly never come across a devout disciple who was an effective converter. Talking about religion to anyone other than people who completely share your beliefs is painfully uncomfortable for everyone involved - even just people overhearing the conversation. To say that it’s not is naïve. As sickening as this is to say out in the open, I’d rather talk about sex than religion. Most people would. Most people do. I think the general consensus is that if we’re vocal enough about what we believe, (not unlike the topic of sex over the generations) people will stop being uncomfortable about it. But I’ve only ever witnessed it turn people that much further away. That, I am afraid of. As a Christian, it’s my responsibility to preach my beliefs - but you know that saying: ‘do what you can to help people, and if you can’t help them.. At least don’t hurt them’? That’s kind of been my approach. If you want to ask me about my beliefs, I’ll talk openly and genuinely. But I don’t want to risk turning you away forever because, being the questionable source that I am, I sound like a nervous, fumbling idiot.

I don’t know the Bible inside and out, but I’ve read it when I wasn’t obligated to. I’ve gone to church because I was compelled by more than guilt. And I’ve taken some of the greatest joy parenting has had to offer in teaching my children about the magic of what I believe to be truth, however hard it may be to believe for other people. I pray with Matthew three times a day, (we have a daily morning prayer, an over meal-time prayer, and our night-time prayer) but I’d be lying if I tried to say that I’ve done much more for Mary than answer a few here-and-there questions and drive her to church. I’m afraid of doing it wrong. I am. And that scares me. But I intend to take baby steps to change that. We aren’t going to delve into memorizing scriptures. Religion is an intimate, personal endeavor and it should be taught that way. I plan to be a lot more of a parent here than a teacher. I’ll open up to her on a personal level, if only a little bit every day and let that go where it goes. Hopefully it’s a place that is good.

　

　

So there it is. Please, tell me what you think. Comment. E-mail me. Call me. I will literally listen to anyone with experience or opinion on this until you feel like shutting up. I really, really want to do this well.

Homeschool: The Decision to Break Free.

Pin It At first, he wasn’t sure. All three of them would be home now, what if I can’t keep up with it all? Her subjects are getting more complicated, am I sure I can teach them? Shouldn’t she be learning to come out of this trouble on her own, without us coming to the rescue? What if she doesn’t listen to me? What if the house ends up being a mess? What if I can’t do all of the things with Matthew that I want to anymore?

He had a lot of valid reasons. Along with… you know, others. (I don’t know, it just sounds weird!) But I knew I couldn’t do this without his full support. I listened open-mindedly to everything he had to say, ready and armed with all of my reasons. And night by night we laid in bed, picking it apart, talking about her future.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten a ton of calls and e-mails and blog comments and more calls from people who just wanted me to know that they thought it was a good idea too. After a few days of falling asleep every night to long, impassioned conversations about whether or not to get started with this and why, Spencer came around. He said he was still skeptical, but that he could see it really meant a lot to me, (and he couldn't see how I could do much worse than the school already was) so we could try it and he would back me up.

Mary was coming around too. She and I stopped saying “if we home school” and started saying “when.” I picked a complete curriculum. We talked about the classes and clubs she’d like to get involved in to supplement her elective education, things like phys ed, music and art. Yesterday, she even asked if we could get started with some of the core subjects over the summer.

　

I found another home schooling family and reached out. I found out about an enormous home schooling network of kids Mary’s age in Delaware with parents who share my concerns and want to answer my questions. (It has an archery club, a 4-H division, an ice-skating and roller skating club, a bowling club, a Christian pre-teen group that schedules regular activities together, and a choir. There’s a geography fair, a math Olympiad, optional group exams, spelling bees and even a field day!) I met with the 6^th grade councilor at her school to gather information on getting her registered. I asked a few of her teachers for personal input, based on what they know about the way Mary learns. I spoke with teacher friends and discussed it with the extended family. Her school assured us that we had a cushion; even in the worst case scenario, if it doesn’t work out for us at all, Mary could always come back. Today, I spoke with the director of home schooling in Delaware at the Department of Education, a great guy. I mail in a couple of forms, and the deed is done.

“You’ll do great,” they all said. “This is the right decision.”

…

After the last post I wrote, when Mary was suspended and I swore that that was the last straw - the school called again. Her second day back, Mary was suspended off of the bus for the rest of the school year. Mind you, that was only the rest of the week, but Spencer and I realized that if I had been working this year, all of the trouble she’s gotten into would have caused me to lose my job.

In the middle of our conference with the school councilor, Mary’s math teacher walked in to grab some paperwork from the room. Aligning her stack of papers and tapping them on the desk, she asked where Mary was that day, when she was supposed to be in her class. Apparently, Mary decided to sit in on a different math class instead, without bothering to ask if it was okay. She missed the final exam and she can’t make it up. Before the conference was over, we found out that in another class, she wasn’t going to receive any credit at all for the year’s final project; evidently, she spent the entire class period doing a friend’s hair while the group she was supposed to be working on it with, did all of the legwork. She’ll pass. But not exactly with flying colors.




　

It boils down to this: I can’t guarantee the laundry will never back up. I can’t promise Mary that she won’t miss braiding her girlfriend’s hair when she’s supposed to be taking a final exam. I can’t say with any certainty that this will put her on the right track by the end of seventh grade or that this won’t be really hard for me to do in any number of ways. But I can say that I stood up and I dared to do something a little different, when too many parents don’t. “Let it be weird!” I told Spencer, finally fed up. “Let it be a little scary. If all it gives us is the chance to talk about something we did with our daughter in a positive light - one that doesn’t give everyone else a false sense of who she is or who she’s turning into - it will have been worth it. I’m sick of talking about her like she’s nothing but trouble, when I know that she’s not. I’m sick of only having negative updates for people who call to ask how she is. I’m sick of shielding her from the only “friends” that she knows, and I’m sick of always having to punish her for trouble she wouldn’t be getting into at home. I’m sorry, but you can’t convince me that this is going to be too hard. At this point, if this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, it’ll be worth the effort.”

　

　

So we’re doing it. I’m making a plan for the year now. I’m stockpiling schedule ideas and tips and tricks from seasoned homeschoolers around the web and within our community. I’m gathering ideas on how to occupy and stimulate the younger two when Mary and I will be the busiest and I’m harvesting housecleaning schedules and chore charts and Martha Stewart brand office organizers from Staples for the dining room. None of it is very sophisticated yet, but it’ll get there.

That being said, I know that over the course of this summer vacation especially, I’m bound to get a whole lot of why’s. Since this is about to get way too long for anyone’s attention span to survive, I’m breaking this up into two posts. This one is just to say… We’re doing it! *gulp* Yay!

Socialization in Today’s Public School.

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The first time Mary was suspended off of the bus this year, we told her that we thought she needed a different learning environment. It wasn’t just because of the suspension. That was only a validation (the first of many to come) of what we already knew: she wasn’t thriving. Her grades fell dramatically, with as much velocity as her social life soared. The phone would wring incessantly for her, from 3:00 in the afternoon until well after dinner. She loved school, but only because she could - and did - come home everyday bragging about what it’s like to be the most popular girl there.

Twice, Mary had dentist appointments in the beginning of the school day, after which I offered to let her stay home, figuring we could take advantage of an opportunity for quality time together. I even offered to take her out with me for pizza if she did. Both times she politely assured me she’d rather just go back to school to be with her friends. The suggestion to switch her from the school she’s at now to a new one was met with ardent hostility. She could NOT be without her friends, she said, and we respected how she felt. Almost immediately after that first conversation, the school scheduled a parent teacher conference to discuss slipping grades and worsening behavior. The discussion to move schools was officially back on the table. This time, if she wanted to stay in the school she was at, she was going to have to prove to us that she could thrive there.

The hardest part has always been feeling detached from what goes on there. I love her teachers, councilor and administrator. But I can count on one hand the number of times she’s even been assigned homework or a project that could be worked on at home. I asked the teachers for ways that I could help her study or to otherwise be involved, and their answers were that unfortunately, most of the materials had to stay at school. There was a website that she could access from home which would help to aid her in preparing for the state test, but nothing that even gave me the chance to be involved. I was used to getting a monthly newsletter in the mail from her last school, detailing everything the kids in her grade were learning about and how. I was used to signing an agenda book every evening which had a daily list of all assignments to be completed and returned to school the next day. I was able to look over her homework with her and help to correct mistakes. I knew exactly what she was struggling with, where and generally even why. I knew that middle school would break that trend to encourage accountability and self-motivation in transitioning students, but it didn’t. It just cut me off from having any involvement at all in her crumbling education. I was rendered helpless to stop her grades from spiraling out of control. It was going to be up to her to bring her grades up all alone, when most days it’s all she can do to make it out of there without getting into a fist-fight.

Cutting to the chase: I want to home school Mary, at least for a year to see how it goes. I’ve scoured the internet. I’ve finished two books from the library. I’ve all but photographically memorized all of the pros, cons and statistics available in an effort to compare switching her to a different public school. Home schooling is something I never thought I’d “do to my kids” but nothing about it feels even remotely questionable to me anymore; nothing about it feels like it wouldn’t be everything she needs, exactly the way that she needs it, to succeed where she’s struggled for so long. Whenever I’m making an important decision, I get as familiar as I can with both sides of the coin, not just the side I’m leaning toward. And I’ve found that hands down, the biggest bone nay-sayers have to pick with a home schooling situation is socialization. I wonder, looking at my daughter, what it is exactly they picture when they think of the socialization a middle schooler gets in public school today.

I feel like I have a lot to offer someone in regard to perspective on this because my daughter is about as typically socialized within the public school system as a kid can get. Everyone knows who she is and she’s pretty universally adored, which is why she loves school as much as she does. But being socialized at eleven isn’t what it used to be. I couldn’t tell you what it was like to be the most popular girl in middle school fifteen years ago, but I can tell you what I see and hear from my daughter’s perspective today, and I’m willing to bet: it isn’t what the typical nay-sayer is thinking. Here’s a little insight as to what it’s like to be an extremely popular girl in an east coast, suburban middle school, today.

- You are not exempt from bullying. You are targeted incessantly, by your “friends” as much as anyone else. Everything about your clothes, your body and the income of your parents will be picked apart on a daily basis. (Not so different than back in our day, really.) The only difference is that people are willing to beat other people up on your behalf. Which, of course, comes back on you when their friends find out.

- Everyone, popular or not, is measured by how well they can fight.

- The more popular you are, the more you’re challenged. Three girls walked to our neighborhood once in the very beginning of the school year and literally knocked on my door just to [try to] beat up my daughter because she had so many friends.

- If someone is beat up, there’s a monumental amount of pressure for them to redeem themselves by beating up someone else.

- If you win in a fight, you are a hero. If you lose in a fight, everyone will hate you. Not tease you, they will hate you. When Mary was beat up the other day, sitting in the office with a bloody nose, her best friend… let me repeat that: her BEST FRIEND… came into the office just to inform her that everyone hates her now. Everyone. And then walked away.

- The girl who beat her up, by the way, was a good friend, too.

- If you are attacked and beat up - even if you never threw a punch, you are just as suspended as the person who decided they were going to fight you that day.

Here’s the best part!

- Boys don’t want to date you. They want to have sex with you. And because they have no idea how to even pretend to be romantic about it, they just come right out and ask you for it. Girls, nowadays, haven’t even matured enough to realize how gross and disrespectful that is. They think it’s normal. They think it’s acceptable. They think it’s flattering. BECAUSE THEY’RE ELEVEN.

- Most of the “friends” my daughter has in public school have either smoked cigarettes, weed or made out with a boy by the age of ten. Who do you think the first person they try to impress with this information is? The most popular kid in school, of course! The other day Mary told a girl who was bragging about some marijuana she had, that smoking weed is disgusting. The girl replied: “Well, I wouldn’t share it with you anyway. Actually, maybe I would. Then we’d probably be cool.”

　

　

The friends she had were proving to be more and more toxic everyday, with every story she came home from school, ready and willing to spill. (So much of the time, not even understanding why the stories she told were ‘that big of a deal’ to me anyway, which was the scariest part.) What started as a crush on a cute boy at the beginning of the school year, quickly turned into boyfriend/girlfriend/soul mate status and late night messages on her iPod saying things like, ‘I love you soooo much. I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you!’. The incessant phone calls she got from friends weren’t conversations I had in school like, what are you wearing to school tomorrow? You should wear that cute, blue hoodie to match mine! They were phone calls starting rumors about who wants to have sex with who and venereal diseases and pregnancy. Fights broke out all the time. I started finding the eleven year olds she went to school with getting high on stolen weed at the park where I take my younger kids to play. A few of her friends are already skipping school.

I couldn’t stand what it was doing to her, that this is what she considers ‘normal’… what she tells me it’ll be like at any school she goes to because she knows other kids who go to those schools too. But we knew not to expect that middle school was going to be a picnic, so we talked to her often and tried hard to prepare her for the difficult years ahead, taking care not to be “too” overprotective. I found myself saying to her after the fight she had the other day, that she was going to have to be above the influence of drugs and violence in her school - which isn’t fair to ask of or even rational to expect of a kid so young. I reminded her that this wasn’t the first time she was faced with a violent situation in middle school and it wouldn’t be the last either. Then I stopped and I just shook my head. I hated that that was even coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t believe that I was just accepting that this is her life. Her everyday life. Her childhood.

People who aren’t comfortable with the idea of home schooling talk about children needing to be exposed to uncomfortable situations in the social world in order to become more capable, emotionally sound people, long run.

I realized though, talking to her that day, that I’ve spent the entirety of this school year shielding her with tooth and claw from having any kind of a social life outside of school at all. I’ve had no choice. Every social situation inside or out of school feels like knowingly and willingly throwing her to a pack of wolves. I couldn’t help that she was around it so much at school. I sure as hell wasn’t going to give up whatever small influence I had the chance to be on her outside of it, too.

　

Yesterday, I told her what I thought about home schooling.

And believe it or not, as much as she HATED the idea of switching to a different school, she was receptive. We talked for a long time about what would be different, good and bad, without holding back. I promised her that I could do it, because I’m confident that with a lot of dedication I can. And I promised her that she could even keep in touch with the friends she has at her current school, as long as it was mostly under my supervision. She will have more freedom, I promised her that, and I not only meant it, I’m excited by it. I have hated having to shield her so much from experiences a kid her age should be able to have with their friends. I feel much more comfortable letting her do things outside of my supervision after school, knowing I have the opportunity to be a healthy influence on her throughout the eight hours a day I currently can’t. I feel like I'll have adequate time to better equip her to handle toxic influences, should she still be exposed to them outside of school. I’ll buy her a laptop. I’ll let her have a face book to keep in touch with current friends, and she’ll be able to have them over here for sleepovers once a month. She’ll be able to pick classes and clubs - be they sports, music, art, math tutoring, whatever - so that she’ll never feel cut off from other kids her age. We’ll be able to focus on the things she loves learning the most and put a more concentrated, one-on-one effort into helping her through the areas where she struggles. We’ll join a group and go on field trips together. We’ll make sure that she doesn’t feel compromised of anything (healthy) the other kids have. And we’ll be able to give her so much of what they never will.

It isn’t written in stone just yet. All that being said, we’re still exploring the option of enrolling her in a different school in a better area. But I’m sold enough to start browsing curriculums, and insanely excited to have taken the first few steps.



(I don't think this illustration is necessarily without it's flaws, but it was an interesting Pin.)

So there it is. We’ll see where it takes us.