View of a Day (warning - this is NOT "in a nutshell"!)

A few years ago, when we were still in the beginnings of our formal homeschool journey, I tried to figure out why exactly we were't able to stick to a schedule. So one day I jotted down notes throughout the day about what was actually happening, compared to what was "supposed" to be happening. It gave me some terrific insight of course...and it was also pretty funny! Remembering that, I did the same thing yesterday, and while it was a rather mild day actually, it was still amusing.

Suggested Schedule:

(this is very basic, of course, and doesn't include all of our subjects, some of which I just sqeeze in here and there as we can)

7:30 - Wake up, get dressed

8:00- Breakfast

8:45 Chores

9:15 "Preschool time"

9:45Math

10:30 Language Arts (with a snack!)

11:15 History (or science)

11:45 Straighten up

12:00 Lunch

1:00 Quiet time

2:30 Snack, finish up any schoolwork, then free time

5:00 Finish up chores, get ready for dinner

6:00 Dinner

7:00 Baths, etc.

8:00 Bedtime

Now of course some days we have outings worked in, and even when we don't, I always try to allow for some flexibility. Obviously it's not enough, however.

Reality

7:30 I wake up, but snag the captivating book I've been reading and head toward the kitchen, where I start the coffee and read while it brews.

8:00 Ashamed of myself, I finally "hide" the book in the pantry as I hear the kids waking up. We eat breakfast together, and I read aloud a little from Carry on, Mr. Bowditch, which makes me feel a little better about myself after my slacker behavior earlier.

8:30 I begin cleaning up the breakfast things as I send the kids to get dressed.

9:00 Things are going well, but for some reason I decide it's a good time to check our bank account online and just make sure everything's good. I have a question about a rather trivial amount of money, which I decide to ask Dave about, and while we're discussing it via text, Aimee, Drew, and Ryan come to tell me some bad news. I can see it on their faces. "Um, Drew dropped the crickets, and now they're all over the bathroom floor." We have a "cricket keeper" that houses, obviously, crickets - the ones that we feed to our geckos. Chirping crickets bother Drew at night, which is why they are sometimes moved to the bathroom. At any rate, NOW all the crickets are hopping around the bathroom. We keep our heads, the boys catch most of the crickets, and I clean the rest of it up. No problem, but as I get the vaccuum out to aid in our clean-up, I notice the boys' room is a complete disaster already, even before we had a chance to make the beds- which for some reason is one of my pet peeves. We should get everything in order before we make a mess... But I take a deep breath and choose to ignore it for now.

9:30 Drew is complaining to me that he didn't eat breakfast. ("What were you doing that whole time?!) Rather ungraciously, I tell him to go get something to eat, and I walk into the kitchen with him, seeing that the little boys have already grabbed the cereal again themselves, and Chase, in fact, has emptied at least a bowlful onto the table.

9:45 I leave them to their cereal, deciding that now would be a good time to me to get dressed and collect myself.

9:50 I hear the almost unmistakeable sound of Cheerios being poured from the box onto the floor - and not even in the kitchen. But it's my fault - I have to remember not to leave Chase with tempations like boxes of food. There's something irresistible about the sound of it as he pours it out, I think. Anyway, I still have the vacuum out, so it's all okay.

10:00 I finally announce that we are ready to do something, and why don't we make it art - something happy? If I ask the kids to pick a subject they want to do, and provide no qualifications, art is always it. Of course today, because I've declared that's what we're going to do, there's some complaining. But something about my completely incredulous response quells the whining, and we begin. Besides Chase gleefully trying to use the colored pencils as missiles at one point, our drawing lesson goes well overall.

10:50 - There is a mess, though, so I allow everyone to go outside while I clear the table.

11:00 -We are supposed to start again now, but just as I am ready to call the kids back in, Chase asks to nurse, and I let him have some Mommy time (while I read more of my book).

11:30 - I call the older kids in to do some math. Amazingly, that's exactly what they do!

12:00 - We have lunch, and we go over some memorization from our history study.

12:30 - I let the kids play a little on the Wii, as I put away the lunch things.

12:50 - We leave for a friend's, listening to geography songs on the way.

1:00 - 3:00 I meet with some other moms, and the kids play happily with their friends. Who needs quiet time?

3:00 We leave for Wal-Mart. Answering my children's groans on hearing about our destination, I assure them that no one, including myself, is really happy about this. A trip to the store with all of them in tow can be a stressful outing. ("Please walk, please don't hang on the cart, PLEASE watch where you're going, no we're not getting doughnuts/Pop-Tarts/Cocoa Puffs..."). But I put Chase on my back, where he slept through most of the shopping, and the other kids really did well.

4:30 We arrive home, I put away the groceries, the kids finish their promised turns on the Wii.

5:30 - I put some frozen pizzas in the oven (Dave wasn't supposed to be home, and I needed to do something quick and easy). I decide we can all go out and feed the animals while the pizzas are cooking, but having underestimated the amount of time it would take us, when I finally come back inside they're rather burned.

6:00 - We make do and eat the least burned parts anyway.

6:45 - Dave comes home - a very welcome change of plans.

7:15 - I go take a bath, and I luxuriate in it, devouring my book (and forgetting to wash my hair), until the water is cold. Very reluctantly, I get out and join in the bedtime routine already in progress.

Sometime between 8:30 and 9:00 - The kids are tucked into bed, and Dave and I fall onto the couch to vegetate for a little while before an early bedtime for ourselves.

So that's how it goes. We don't always get everything done in a day (you'll notice the Language Arts department was somewhat neglected on this particular day), sometimes we do more than planned. And sometimes it's my my fault that we get derailed, and sometimes it's just...welll, life! And a good one I think it is.

Ah, To Be All-Knowing!

Drew has been having trouble getting to sleep lately, probably because, as I've explained to him at least once before, when sleep descends in his room, he's not there to benefit. He pops up every few minutes to tell or ask us something. A couple nights ago, he got up to tell me something in particular.
"I'm going to tell you this," he began, "and I'll bet you don't know it. Did you know," he went in, in his typical dramatic fashion, "that dinosaurs are reptiles?"

"Yes, actually," I replied brightly, trying just not fuss at him in typical mom fashion about going back to bed, "and did you know that 'dinosaur' means 'terrible lizard'?" (Acutally, I thought we had already known all this for some time, so I wasn't sure why he would have thought it was a revelation.)

His dejected figure instantly informed me that I had made a dreadful mistake. "I'll never get her," he muttered as he walked back down the hall, head hanging. I had to call him back and assure him that there will be plenty of things he'll be able to tell me in the future that I won't know, and since then, he's been trying to "get" me. We've had quite a few conversations that have begun "I'll bet you don't know...", and have found me struggling to nuture his self-esteem without lying. "Wow, that's neat! How did you find that out?" He is not fooled, of course. "But do YOU know it already?", followed by more frustration when he forces me to admit the truth.

I remember asking my dad once how grown-ups just knew everything, because it always seemed to me, too, that there wasn't anything my parents didn't know. How funny that it's come full circle now, my son wracking his brain to be able to stump me. When I was a child I think I imagined it would feel different to be on this end, that it would be invigorating and empowering to have all answers would come so easily. I certainly didn't realize that there would still be so many things I wouldn't know, but I guess I can still revel in my wealth of knowledge about things like dinosuars and mummies.

I've posted about Drew three times in a row now, but of course the other kids are still here, by the way! Ryan finally had his adenoids removed last Thursday (after we had rescheduled the surgery twice), and he's very proud of it. Before the surgery he talked about it constantly - "I can't wait until I get my...what are they called? Oh yeah, I can't wait until I get my adenoids out." He also asked if they would be cutting a hole in him, and was dissapointed to find out there would be no holes or brain probing. Post-surgery, he greatly enjoyed the all-you-can-eat popsicle and ice cream diet, and had an amazing recovery overall.

Chase is as...spirited...as ever, and has learned a new phrase or two. When we ask where one of our dogs is, he replies "I don't know. Prob'by just...runned away.", or "Prob'by just...in the kennel." One of my favorites, though is when he sits in front of the TV and asks earnestly, "I watch Star Wars Cwone Wars, too?" He definitely thinks he's one of the big boys.

And there's always Aimee - fiery, long-limbed, beautiful, and growing up Aimee, who has never once in her life had any doubts about already being bestowed with the knowledge of anything there is too know...and whose cute moments I can hardly share anymore because she would be mortified. :-)

And all of them are sleeping, so I should join in that slumber back there. Ryan and Chase have been waking at the very first hint of my stirring in the morning, and whether it's like some kind of radar or magic, it is leaving me very tired at the end of the day. Good night, all!

Something Worth Remembering

How Deep the Father's Love for Us
Stuart Townsend

How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
And make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the man upon his cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

The Really Important Questions

I gave Drew his math page yesterday (don't worry - this isn't another obnoxious mother moment!), on which he was asked to write an addition word problem, called a "some, some more story" by Saxon. Drew started on it without hesitation, and he actually wrote most of it himself, only dictating the last few words, which he delivered with the indicated emphasis - "There were 3 clones [presumably of the Star Wars variety]. Then 5 more came out of nowhere." The next part asked him to write a question for the story. Of course, Saxon meant something like "How many clones are there now?" But Drew looked up and said in dramatic tones with innocent seriousness, "How did clones appear out of nowhere?"

I started to say that's not exactly what the math page was looking for, but we sure did write that question down!

First Day - Drew's Moment in the Spotlight

Despite my lack of preparation - and the understanding that we wouldn't be able to jump headlong into a full school schedule, such as it is around here - we did pick up some of our schoolwork this week. I did just a very, very little with Drew on Monday before deciding to try again the next day. Yesterday morning Aimee was still in bed (she's such a good little patient!), and after I allowed Ryan to tuck himself away in my room to play computer games quietly, I I started on some math with Drew, Chase playing with some play-doh at the table with us. We were working with some money, and pretty soon Chase decided to get in on the fun, which meant dropping/throwing coins on the floor, and it was hardly any time before the constant "plink, plink, plink" began to get on my nerves. Then he moved to throwing clumps of play-doh off the table, then sweeping everything off with both arms... Ah, I had almost forgotten how much fun school time is! I tried gently redirecting him while trying to instruct Drew, then finally my patience gave out.

"For heaven's sake, STOP!" I implored, and while I am not by nature a shouter, I admit the volume of my voice was proportionate to my exasperation. Chase was, thankfully, unpreturbed, but Drew looked at me dissaprovingly.

"Mom, you lost your temper!"

Sigh. Thank you, Jiminy Cricket!

Eventually Chase found something else less destructive to do, and Drew and I finished up. I had meant to do some review here and there over our break, but that didn't happen, so I wondered if we might have regressed in some skills, and I was pleased to discover that Drew hadn't lost anything at all. Indeed, his handwriting, which did need some work, had actually improved, and his easy comprehension of math skills still amazed me. We were working on adding two-digit numbers with trading using dimes and pennies. I assumed he would understand the concept fairly easily once we tried it, but was unprepared for his reaction when I wrote the problems on the board.

I wrote 37 + 23 first. "Okay, Drew, let's use dimes and pennies to figure this out. Put the dimes on the left and the pennies on the right. Then we'll see if we can trade any pennies for dimes..."

"I already know the answer to that," Drew said causually. "It's 60."

It was the same with every other problem, and while we did the little exercise anyway, it was clear, once again, that he grasps this kind of thing instantly. It doesn't come so naturally to me, and I think it just amazes me still that someone who came from me can have his own talents and skills. Actually - and do forgive a proud mother, as I know this may be obnoxious - but there isn't much at all in school that Drew doesn't find fairly easy, unless you count the ability to sit still. :-) He reads with ease, has a terrific grasp of language ("Sometimes I have dreams, Mom, but there's always a portal to get out of them - waking up."), has an great memory, and has a mind for math. I think in a formal school setting his lack of focus would be a problem, and we might miss how smart he is. So while sometimes Ifeel like homeschooling drives me to the edge, I really am enormously grateful to be able to participate so closely in Drew's learning path and to watch his incredible little mind at work.

Plans

Note: I began this on Sunday, but only finished it today, on Wednesday, hence the reference at the end to Monday...

We have been stuck in a vortex of sickness for the last two weeks now, hence no touching birthday/Christmas/New Year's posts. (Perhaps that's better, since I was becoming a little maudlin over my 30th birthday, and it's impossible not to go over the top with thoughts about the close of a year and the start of a new one.) Really, nothing has gone as planned the past month. I have always arranged our school schedule so that we can take all of December off (reasoning that we won't get much of anything academic done that month anyway, so it might as well be planned so that I don't have to feel bad about it!), and my plans for this December break were to make the month a deliberate time of refreshment, renewal, and...house-scouring, the last of which sounds dreary, but the cumulative effect was supposed to be an orderly environment ready for a re-established routine of happy learning and pleasant cooperation around the house.

In my head, on December 1, this didn't seem so unrealistic.

We might have had a little of it, though, if we hadn't completely derailed. It all began around the middle of the month when Dave had to go to Cincinnati to work for a week. We had suspected he would have to go, and rather hoped for it, since it was either work there, or hardly work at all, but we thought he was going early in the month. When we heard he was going to be gone the week before Christmas instead, we crammed in some frantic Christmas shopping, and I tried to do what I could to be ready for a week on my own. And I was looking ahead to not just any week, mind you. Because I had thought Dave was going to be gone earlier, I had previously volunteered for a variety of things for the very week he actually had to leave. ("Sure, I'll make a cake for the AWANA Christmas party!" "Why don't we have Girl's Club here, and make it a cookie decorating party!") It turned out there were a couple of days that week that I never sat down (unless it was in the car) until late in the evening. (To make it even a little more interesting, just half and hour before all the Girl's Club members and their mothers arrived for the aforesaid cookie decorating party, there was a lightsaber incident that involved a good deal of blood and a black eye - thankfully a few butterfly closures were all that was needed.) By the weekend (with Dave still gone and not scheduled to arrive back home until two days before Christmas), I was definitely ready to head up to my mom's to celebrate my 30th birthday and to have our family Christmas get-together. Of course, sometimes the big push to get away somewhere is harder than it's worth - I had to pack for five people and get all our animals settled for the weekend (which involved a last minute chase after our beagle, who was enthusiastically chasing some escaped chickens). But I wasn't about to spend my birthday cleaning, cleaning, and cleaning my house some more, so even if just for escaping that, the trip was worth it. :-)
The last day we were there, however, Drew had a fever and malaise that was the beginning of our descent into a haze of sick days. For three days he had no energy and no appetite, which finally prompted me on the fourth day, Christmas Eve, to take to him to the doctor. The doctor suspected he had adenovirus, which, it turns out, feels just like strep throat, only without the possibility of taking antibiotics to feel better. But by Christmas morning Drew seemed to be doing better, and everyone else was well, so we decided to go ahead and drive up to Dave's sister's for the afternoon, reluctantly breaking our vow to stay home on Christmas day. Having done our duty, we returned home that evening exhausted. The next day, I began to feel a little under the weather, but insisted that I would be okay for our scheduled trip to Atlanta, for an extended family reunion, the next day. I didn't feel at all well the next morning, but we piled in the car and drove down anyway, visiting Zoo Atlanta as planned (I'm sure it would have been great if I hadn't felt like death!) When we got to our hotel later that afternoon, I crawled into bed, and Dave wrangled with four restless kids. That night, Ryan spiked a fever, and we considered just going home that morning. But we had pushed through so far, and so we dragged ourselves to my uncle and aunt's house that afternoon, and made an appearance for a few hours, before finally getting back in the car for the four-hour ride home. Ryan was supposed to have had surgery to remove his adenoids the following day, but of course that was out of the question, so Monday (when Chase also became feverish and fussy), and then Tuesday, and then Wednesday were a blur of sick days. I finally began to feel a little better on New Year's, but the little boys were ill all through the weekend. They also developed a cough, which Drew then caught, putting him back in bed on Saturday. All this time, Aimee remained unscathed, until Sunday morning, when sitting in church with me, she took a downward turn rather suddenly. I
brought her home and put her to bed, where she has been since.

So much for my plans for December. Of course I didn't get a thing organized, planned, or cleaned, and was dismayed to realize that Monday was the day we were to start school again, when I had nothing at all ready. I couldn't - and still can't, in fact - even see my dining room table (so called because it was my grandmother's dining room table, not because we actually dine on it!) on which we usually do school. And with the kids still sick or recovering, I can hardly expect much from them (we have done a little with Drew, though - more on our first day later). I should have learned by now not to make such grand plans, but at least I think I've learned to take it all in stride - somewhat! Ah well, life goes on whether I'm ready for it or not.