A Reveal!

This is my dear friend Lisa Dunn. 

Her book is coming out in March, and the cover reveal was today!

Grit of Birth and Stone by Lisa Dunn

Surge, Anaiah Press

Blurb:

 

Banished for a foolish mistake, sixteen-year-old Grit of Berth and Stone scorns the loss of her home, her honor, and her only ally. Only the weak worry about such things.

But war is brewing all across Chasmaria, and as a group of rebels pull Grit into their ranks, she begins to question what strength, courage, and honor really look like. When faced with a horrible truth about herself, Grit must either fight her way back to Thresh or live with the blood of the innocent on her hands.

Release Date:

March 17, 2015

 

Anaiah Press

Sweets for the ....Not-So Sweet

Also last night, I had the opportuntity to have some rare one-on-one time with Chase. I had a couple of errands to run, and then we went to get ice cream. Now, this kid did NOT deserve ice cream. He was difficult today, to put it mildly. He's been difficult all week. We're having a tough time with him in many areas lately, and so much of our ineractions with him are battles. We don't want to fight him, we don't know why he even does fight about some things, but whatever is the issue, he's been extra challenging, and on days like yesterday, spending extra time with him - and going to get a treat, no less - seems like the opposite of what should be done.

But grace.

When we get busy, it's sometimes easy to fall into the trap of offering kids rewards, or threatening to withhold good things, just to keep them going from one thing to the next. In principle, I hate this - I think it's like dangling carrots in front of donkeys, and children aren't donkeys. In practice, it happens sometimes, and yesterday, while trying to get everyone out the door, I almost made the ice cream trip conditional. "Look, if you won't give me any trouble while we get in the car, if you'll behave during quiz practice, if you'll be good...then we'll go get ice cream together when the older kids go to their activities." I think I even started to say it. But I thought better of it, knowing in my heart that what a friend and I talked about once was true - that often the kids we want to keep at an arm's length, are the kids we need to draw in and keep close.

So I didn't make the ice cream trip conditional on anything. We just went - this rough-and-tumble, dirt-dusted, full of fire and untamed energy boy and I.

He wasn't particularly less challenging afterwards or anything, but I believe that eventually grace will win here - not me, not him, but grace.

And Graeter's sorbet is just a win anytime, so there's that.

A Little Wednesday Night Action

Last night on the way to church, I asked the kids about anything new or interesting they had learned that day. Chase "didn't learn anything," so I reminded him that we had learned more about verbs (exciting, I know!)  I chanted the "being verb" list, and the other boys joined in enthusiastically, so that I wasn't entirely alone in my efforts, but Chase groaned, "Ugh, I have no idea what you're talking about." School, in its formal structure, is not his favorite.

But I persisted, "Sure you do! You like to talk about action verbs, anyway. What are some action verbs?"

Silence, but then Ryan offered for him, "Run!" Then, "Chop! Kill! Hunt! Fight!"

And finally Chase got caught up in the moment and exclaimed, "Demolish!"

So I guess he is learning, after all.



PS Even the older kids got into it. Among their offerings? ""Incinerate" and "Incarcerate." Well, then.

What We're Reading

Here's a glimpse of what we're currently reading:

The picture book basket is always full, and the contents are somewhat different each week...

but these are a couple of Scarlett's favorites. I love introducing the Beatrix Potter book to each child, and I get a thrill every time I read about the "soporific effect" of lettuces on young rabbits. 

Aimee's stack on the left, although after I took this picture, she announced that she had no patience for the book on the top (I liked it, but that's okay!), and that she wouldn't recommend the second. The stack on the right are books we have both read, and which we both highly recomend -  with a disclaimer for some. Cinder, and the rest of the Lunar Chronicles books, we recommend without hesitaton. Drew is currently reading the series, earning him cool points from his older sister. As for the others...Aimee's review of Red Rising sums it up quite well. The Unwind series (the last book of which is on the top of the stack) is interesting and has led to some great discussions, but it does have some language, as well as some unsettling concepts. We don't enjoy books with gratuitous violence or language, but we don't forbid books simply because of those elements, either. Context and maturity levels of the reader matter to us, and so we probably allow some books that some friends would prefer to avoid, and that's fine! 

These, though, are pretty fun, and I thought they were interesting. The kids haven't even gotten to them yet!

As for books for school....those are found everywhere. Yesterday, there were some serious art projects going on, along with some research on World Wars. I think Drew got most of the way through this WWII book yesterday alone...

And here are some more of our library books for school. The notecards are Drew's - he asked me yesterday if it was okay to use them to take notes while he was reading the WWII books. Um..yes, that's fine!

I don't mind having books and papers all over, but here's a shameless plea...all I want for Christmas...and my birthday, and Valentine's, and Mother's Day, and any other day ....are desks and shelves (and maybe some more shelves) for my school room. I don't need anything else. The end. 

Getting Nothing Done

We hardly got anything at all done yesterday.

Everyone did some math I had planned, but other than that, we accomplished nothing. Well, they studied, and in some cases, quoted from memory, entire chapters of a great classical book known as the Bible, but that was just for quizzing, the extra-curricular activity that's not really "school." And I think Drew spent some time on his Rosestta Stone French. He also played on his violin. But the boys and Scarlett - since we spent a large chunk of their day at the gym where they take gymnastics and dance, all they really did was run and stretch and tumble and interact with other kids. They were entirely too happy for that to be a school day. And does it really count when Chase learned about consonant blends on the go, as I snuck papers in front of him now and then and asked him a few questions before he had time to object? Probably not.

For heaven's sake, I barely saw anything Aimee was doing. I mean, I think I saw some grammar pages, and she told me about a bunch of reading and some studying of vocabularly from classical languages. I know she spent lots of time writing, writing, writing. Why do I have such a hard time tearing her away from all that writing? Ugh. Fail. Much later, after dinner, we talked at length about current events like the Ebola crisis, and then about pleasanter things like literature. We probably should have busied ourselves with looking over her Algebra work. 

Or, I could have used some of that evening time to catch the boys up on some of their missed school work, but instead, I just sat by and watched as they put together Lego stop-motion videos, baked cookies from a new recipe, listened to books on CD, and then carved up pumpkins. By that time, they had to go to their respective baseball practices, and then it was dinner, and then they played happily together before bed. 

Yesterday's wasted day means we're now further behind on things like on spelling books. And I think I'll have to tack on other week or so of study of our History, because I meant to be finished with this particular time period by the end of October, and now because I didn't sit them down to do their mapwork, I'll have to rework my mental schedule. If we hadn't spent so much time previously on reading and talking about World War I, we wouldn't be in a rush now, anyway. We'll probably have the same problem with the next World War war - there's no way I'll be able to get them to wrap it up in just a couple days. They'll keep wanting to read about it, and I'll never get finished with modern history so I can start back up with the Ancients! 

And then TODAY...co-op! An entire morning of nothing but spending time with other kids, learning about nature, dissecting fish, doing art - argh! 

Obviously...I jest to some degree. But I would be lying if I said that this doesn't represent my actual thought process sometimes. Much of the time. I try to not say it out loud, or to convey non-verbally my feelings of frustration and doubt, but it must come across sometimes, because occasionally one of the older kids will ask me "how far behind" they are, or what they need to do to "catch up." And I have to remind myself as well as them that there's nothing about all the reading, writing, conversing, interacting, stretching, playing, discovering, LEARNING they do...that's anything like "falling behind." 

We'll catch up on the spelling books - if that's even necessary - when the snow comes. 

Maybe.

And Another....

Also...high school work makes me want to pull my hair out sometimes. But in the midst of figuring out how to balance all of that wisely...here's my 9th grade daughter blogging about her novel writing.

Novel writing.




P.S. I feel I should add that I am not at all trying to exalt my children unrealistically - I'm just reminding myself that there are great things happening even when I feel like I'm failing. I really can't stand when moms post on homeschooling forums about the "trouble" they're having with their children who are just "so far ahead in math," or "reading way above their grade level." "Is this normal? Should I be worried? Whatever shall I do?" those moms innocently inquire. Perhaps they really are unaware of how obnoxious this sounds, or perhaps it's a roundabout way of boasting about their "advanced" children. (I want to suggest that they wait a couple of years before "lamenting" about how far ahead their children are, but I usually refrain. The last time I chimed in on one of these conversations, I got reamed for being "negative" about homeschooling.) In any case, I am really NOT trying to imply that here. We have our share of struggles, folks. We definitely have those days on which I can be heard saying, "We've been doing Saxon math for a hundred years! How can you not remember that concept?" or "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT A VERB IS?" Except I never raise my voice. Ever.

Case in Point

I mentioned in my last post that, as usual, I am struggling a bit with how to balance scheduling and free learning. A perfect example came from Drew's studies last week. He's in 7th grade this year, so I'm trying to make his schedule a little more demanding. I actually don't know if this is a good idea or not, as he seems to do pretty well on his own, but still...responsibility and all that.

Anyway, on Wednesday evening of last week, he needed something to listen to at bedtime, and he found an audio copy of The Screwtape Letters in the library's ecollection. He really enjoyed it, and the next day all he wanted to do was listen to it. So annoying, because I was trying to get him to get his schoolwork done!

Sometimes I'm an idiot.

He ended up finishing it that day, and we discussed it that afternoon. Most of the day's assigned work didn't get done at all, and I really had to fight the feelings of stress that comes from having checklist that doesn't get addressed at all. In one feel swoop, we were behind on grammar, and spelling, and writing, and Latin - I had to readjust his whole schedule for the rest of the week and next...and pant, pant, pant...

Meanwhile, C.S Lewis.

Just a Little on Life and Learning with the Meesters

A friend recently asked me for tips on getting a blog started....and I realized with shame that, once again, it's been weeks upon weeks since I've written in my own.

We've been busy, for sure - my pool of anecdotes and observations should be plenty deep - but I don't have anything particularly wise or pithy for today. So today - just a general update on life.

The move - we're mostly settled in. I haven't hung all the pictures, and there are some boxes in the garage that are left to be unpacked, but for the most part, we have everything we need where we need it. When we first moved in, the idea of having a clean slate appealed to me, and I researched numerous house cleaning schedules, combining a few that would seem to work best for me. And indeed, in the first couple of weeks, when we really weren't doing much school, if any, I ruled those schedules and maintained a clean and lovely smelling house. Ahh. But alas, I knew it was too good to be true. When classes and sports leagues started back up, and then we really got school going - well, it's been a different story. I've yet to find a cleaning schedule that takes into account the war zone that is the result of a good day of school. They're always so peaceful - "Every day, make the beds, put in a load of laundry, and maintain of rotation of household chores to keep your house spotless." There isn't a single one that helps a beleaguered mother figure out how to KEEP the beds made, or how fast to "clean the kitchen appliances" so that they stay clean for anything length of time before perpetually hungry kids pull out more food, spill more crumbs, and leave more fingerprints. There isn't one that magically keeps other rooms in check while she assists children with schoolwork. Rather, she will emerge into one - or all - of those other rooms after a grueling Algebra lesson and cry in dismay, "What in the world happened here?!" There's no handy checklist to handle housekeeping and homeschooling. 

And speaking of school - my ever present dilemma and, ironically, joy, is that I love to organize and list, but I also love to let learning happen organically and independently. Also, not all of my children respond well to lists and schedules. In addition, sometimes it feels like we're not here enough to schedule anything. (This is where I add the somewhat cliched truth that "homeschooling" is a bit of a misnomer, as we spend so much time away from home, that I find myself tucking bits of education into pockets of time during commutes to all these different activities, or during the activities themselves...or hoping that somehow, sometime, we'll be able to get to certain subjects in the not-to-distant future, because they're just not happening now). I tend to swing between the poles of over planning every single detail (and then finding myself in a constant state of failure) and planning nothing and going with whatever comes (freeing, and often the same amount of learning happens as in the former situation, but things DO tend to fall through the cracks). Where's the balance? I'll get back to you when I find out.

What kinds of activities are we up to, you ask? You didn't, but here goes - Church and Bible quizzing, of course. And thank goodness, or what would the kids do for socialization? Except for karate also. And dance. Also gymnastics. Baseball several times a week helps, too. Well, there IS co-op each week as well. And science class for Drew. Also a writer's group for Aimee. Sheltered kids, I tell you. But we do our best to get them out into the sunlight now and then.

Thankfully, there IS still time just to be together as a family, and we even enjoy it still, at that. The boys have been spending lots of time playing chess, which sometimes leads to near-blows, but often is fun - and worthwhile, I guess.

Confession - I can't play, and it has made me feel even more lame that the only other person in the house who doesn't know how is the four year-old - and her brothers have been trying to teach her, so I imagine that situation will change soon. So I checked out some books from the library, and I'm going to try to remedy this apparent shortcoming on my part. In my free time.

We have also been spending each of the past few evenings sitting around our new firepit.

There's something calming and bonding about a fire in the evenings. We don't want to waste it, so we just sit and enjoy each other's company. Another confession, though - the kids don't really "just sit" unless there are marshmallows. But Dave and I do! And somehow it's a little easier to tune out the arguments and the bickering, or the loud fun and boisterous play, when we're sitting around the fire. 

My scheduled lunch hour is almost up. Onward ho to my neatly scheduled afternoon - which schedule, of course, will probably be dismantled in expert fashion by these kids who insist on being...well, kids. Anyway, it's lovely to pretend that everything is going to go according to plan. And it will be lovely when I get ready for bed and contemplate how my schedule may have been for naught, but life and learning happened in great and beautiful (and loud and messy) ways anyway.

Moving

I really dislike moving. I don't like change, and I don't like mess...and that pretty much sums up the moving process. So while I wasn't entirely surprised when our landlord informed us he was going to sell the house (a suspect story, by the way) and that we had just 30 days to be out (and by his frequent check-ins to make sure we really are going to be able to gone within that time frame, I think he would have loved to have given us less time if legally allowed), I still wasn't happy about it. In addition to the usual upheaval caused by a move, we had absolutely no idea where we would go, we were entirely unprepared financially for such a transition, and we had even less than than our allotted 30 days to find it and pack, as we were going out of the country for entire week this month.

And then...I really disliked the idea of moving because it forced me to confront something I really preferred tightly packed away. When we moved to Ohio, we chose to rent this house, with plans for the house we owned in South Carolina, and even further plans to buy something here. And none of that worked in the least the way we had planned, effectively stripping us of a number of choices. But as long as we were here, in this arrangement that we chose, I could forget for long stretches of time that we no longer had the control - or perhaps just the illusion of control - that we had once had. Leaving here meant looking for another rental, not buying the house we had hoped, and it would be a glaring reminder of what we've lost, and of a part of our future that is daunting and uncertain. 

And of course with that comes lots of anxiety and other unpleasant feelings I'd just rather not experience. But, like it or not, we had to do this thing, in band-aid-ripping fashion. Thankfully, Dave is a take-charge, get-it-done sort of guy, so he dove into the task and looked and looked....and looked and looked and looked....until he found something that seemed promising. It all came together, and God provided in all kinds of ways we never could have seen coming. As it turns out, we're really excited about the new place. 

With that surge of excitement and promise, we got serious about packing everything up. I like to do things in an orderly fashion (even if it only seems orderly to me), so I gave myself a ten box a day quota, which I've been meeting for the most part. And in filling those ten boxes a day, I've tried to pack them in the way that I want them to be organized when we get to the new house, which has involved sorting through things carefully, and throwing away a great deal...and it's made a terrific mess. It hasn't seemed like any kind of system at all, I'm sure. But whether it's having confronted my biggest hidden anxiety - the house situation itself - or just having more time each day (moving with big kids is HUGELY different than moving with mostly little oens) to pay attention to what I'm doing, I've been able also to confront all these piles of things I just haven't before. Sometimes my sense of organization is actually SO great that I just get paralyzed when something seems to overwhelming, or if I can't do it the way that I want, so much so that it actually looks like the opposite of organized. But it's just that I haven't been able to face it, and it just lurks in the corners and the closets, and under the beds...

In fact, we had a garage sale yesterday, to purge the house even further of uncessary things, and as the boys were gathering things to put out, I still felt those little twinges of paralysis.. The boys asked if they could sell their GeoTrax train sets, because they never play with them anymore, and I started to say no. I've been keeping those carefully arranged, hoping and planning to get new batteries for all the trains, and maybe get some extra track pieces, and find the instructions so we can get all the sets put together the way they were when we got them. My stomach knotted up just thinking about it, which, I realized, is exactly what happens every time I see the boxes holding all that silly train stuff. No one cares about it that way but me. And it's like having boxes of anxiety sitting around and being carried from house to house. 

I realized further that so much of our stuff is boxed up that way. My closet is full of anxiety, guilt, and feelings of failure. I paid too much for those shoes ten years ago, so I should hang on to them. Someone gave me that sweater, so I can't get rid of it. I hate those jeans and never wear them, but what if I can't buy new ones later? My school room is drowing in last year's stuff, because we didn't do what I thought we should have, and maybe I should try to catch us up, have that grammar book finished, do a more thorough evaluation of those papers I don't have to time to look through...

Or it WAS all that way. I told the boys they could sell the trains. I threw out half the things in my closet. I put away last year's school books and threw away all but a few of the papers. My ten-box a day quota is slowly but surely capturing the things we need and truly want. And the mess is slowly diminishing. 

Perhaps, too, the anxieties and fears boxed up in all the nooks and crannies will diminsh, too.

Another Quizzing Post - Sort Of

I don't think I've ever gone three entire months without posting something. Usually, after some time being away, I say that I haven't been short of ideas, just time - but this time, it really has been a dry spell. A very, very dry spell. For whatever reason(s), I was really burnt out towards the end of our school year, which often happens, I know, but this time I felt like I had been burned to a crisp. Just completely fried. And I suppose that's what happened to all creative thought, too- burned up, dried out. I keep repeating those kinds of phrases because I don't know how else to describe it. I haven't been depressed or frantic; this kind of "burned out" has been the neutralizing kind. Just fried. I think I said that already.

So moviving on.

I didn't know how to fix it, and I was a little alarmed that a six-week break from all things school hadn't renewed me in the least. The idea of even planning for the next year made me want to crawl into a hole and hide. I had originally planned to resume studies when Dave and I returned from taking a quiz team to International Bible Quizzing finals in Canada, but as that week approached, I had done absolutely nothing to put away things from the previous school year and to get ready for the next. And then there was the fact that our landlord had cheerfully told us we had thirty days to be out of our house, so it didn't appear that anything was going to be done anyway.

So I poured myself into preparing for Internationals and all that entailed - and from the very moment we checked in, it was a little like returning home. I have said often enough here how much I love Bible quizzing and how important it was to me as a quizzer. It's important to me now for all those reasons and more - because now I have children who are involved. At any rate, at the first coaches' meeting, I got a little teary-eyed - the first sign of something other than crispy, burned-out dryness. And the next morning, I went for a run, and made my way down to the lake, and cried. Not for sadness or for joy - just for release.

A few more tears of all kinds found their way out that week. It was like being in a healing coccoon, and yet not a completely sheltered one. It was invigorating and inspiring - the way Bible quizzing has always been for me. Oh - and there were the quizzers, too. I'm sure they had a great week, too, since it was for them, after all.

And so I returned to the reality of packing for a place we don't have yet - although I've been sick since being home, and have had not the slightest amount physical energy to do anything that needs to be done. (By the same token, though, I haven't had any energy to be anxious, either, so perhaps it's a blessing. ) But, while this post was neither very creative nor particularly encouraging, I think there are signs I'm beginning to emerge from that dried up place.

One is that I'm in full throttle for quizzing - so if you live anywhere near me, beware. I believe in quizzing, for so many reasons. I believe in it for kids, but it still does so much good for me even now! I wrote in January about the cost of quizzing, and whether it's worth it - Adding Up the Cost. Internationals costs even more, in both time and money, and yet it's still worth every last penny, every last second, if for no other reason than that it just bathes these kids - and the coaches and officials with them - in God's Word, straight up, pulling no punches. That can't fail to have effect, even -especially? - for tired homeschooling mamas who don't know what their problem is or how to fix it.

In Which I Offer My (Mostly) Unqualified Opinion...Again

Last week, I had a couple of conversations with friends about early learning. In both conversations, we discussed, among other things, what kids "should" know at what ages. It is almost always my opinion - which I never hesitate to share, I admit - that children under 7 or 8 "should" know whatever it is they want to know. Even above that age, I don't put much stock in what everyone else is doing. At any rate, here are some reasons why:

1. A two year-old, for instance, can be taught to memorize and parrot just about anything. So let's say there are a number of two year-olds around who can identify numbers or the alphabet, or recite long lists of any other kind. That's fine for them. But I refuse to accept that as any kind of standard, and I encourage all other mothers to ignore it as well. I realize this is purely my opinion, which I can't prove, but I am entirely unconvinced that teaching these kinds of things to very young children provides any kind of advantage whatsoever. I believe that in later years, they'll just be reading at about the same level as children who learn their letters and numbers at their own pace. Now, I can only point to anecdotal evidence here, and I'm admitting that, but until I see evidence of Americans actually getting smarter and more logical, as formal learning reaches back younger and younger, then I will stand my ground on this point. In fact, I think there could actually be harm in drilling formal concepts into young children. Personally, I wonder if this just puts them in a box, in which they do become quite good at spouting things they are taught - and of course it's cute when they're little - but not very good and figuring things out for themselves. And there's this, too:

I can attest to this. I spent a lot of time on certain skills with my oldest when she was in "preschool" and "Kindergarten" that I have little time to do with my youngest...and guess what? It's all working out about the same, just with less stress for me. Far better for Scarlett to want to know her letters, and to ask me to point them out to her, than for me to waste any time insisting that she learn them. I don't care if every other three year-old for miles around can perfectly identify all the letters of the alphabet, I'm not pushing her to do it. She's three. Play is her business, and I think that grow her mind and her love of learning just fine. More than fine, actually. 

2. I think sometimes the worry about when children should begin formal learning stems from the fear that there won't be time to teach them everything if they don't start as early as possible. I guess there's some truth to that. It would take a LOT of time to teach someone everything there is to learn, and in fact, no one person, of which a garden-variety parent is the least, can teach any one child everything there is to learn. Darn it, I'm not sure even a collection of teachers in any one given school can teach a child everything there is to learn. Hadn't we better hurry? Thankfully, I don't think it's anyone's job to teach a child everything there is to know, and again, I think trying simply puts children in a box. I tend to think that the best thing to teach a child is how to learn for themselves. Are you reading to them? Are they exploring, experiencing, playing, interacting? Obviously it's useful and necessary to plug in some formal concepts at times and to prompt and nudge now and then. I don't mean that there is never a place for study. But in general, the business of lighting the fire of learning under kids is much, much different than filling the bucket with mere facts. It can feel a little scary at times, when it seems as though other people's preschoolers (or elementary graders...or junior high or high school graders...) know a list of things your child, who is probably running around barefoot outside or making "experiments" in the basement, doesn't know right then. Or maybe they do! It's quite likely that, in reference to the picture above, your child will indicate they know their colors, or will tell you something else out of the blue, and you'll say, "How do you know that?" They just will. And it won't make a bit of difference if they know it at two or if they know it at five. 

3. I think everything I've said so far is the truth. I think that kids who learn without fear and without intense prompting and drilling at very young ages will do just as well - or better - than kids who receive all that prompting and drilling. Certainly it's easier for the parents. But let's say that the trend of turning toddlers into "preschoolers" actually produces results. Let's say that it puts them in college by age 12, or that they are brilliant, successful millionaires as adults. I don't care! I think learning is important, and I think there's value in critical thinking skills. I think that if someone wants a career that requires a great deal of education, they will have to look at what colleges want. But I'm not going to live my life or raise my children as slaves of an educational system. I'm not training students who measure up to other students their age. I'm not directing their lives in fear and trepidation of whether or not they'll be accepted by colleges. I'm raising people who will, I hope and pray, serve their Lord and live their lives mindful of eternity. Knowledge is useful in the meantime, but wisdom is far better. Then there's the fact that we live in this world, and act accordingly - I'm not saying college is bad, by any means - but it's a rather fragile world. There's no guarantee that college will be an option by the time our kids get there. There's no guarantee that anything will be the same. So I would rather raise people who can think for themselves and adapt to whatever comes, than just raise kids who will make it to college with the same kind of credentials as everyone else. 

And if we think about the uncertainly of life - that society may continue in a predictable fashion for some time, or it is just as likely that everything we rely on may crumble at any time - what would we rather be doing with our children? Would we rather drill the alphabet with those sweet two year-olds, barely more than babies...or would we rather just snuggle and play with them? Would we fret about keeping our 8th graders on track for college....or would we go about the business of training them to be the wise and critically-thinking adults they will be soon enough? And yes, Aimee, if you're reading this...I do still think Algebra still has some value in that purpose. :-)

A Page from the Kids' Rule Book for Life

We have our homeschool co-op on Friday mornings, and it's one of the highlights of the week for the kids. We've done it for a couple years now, and while it used to start at 9:30, this year, it starts at 9:15, with "Assembly."

We have never yet made it to Assembly.

We haven't had a problem getting there by 9:30, and fifteen minutes isn't that much of a difference, so I don't know what the problem is. It doesn't matter what time we get up, or what measures we try to take to get there fifteen minutes earlier, but we just can not make it. Yesterday was particularly frustrating, because one of the kids was ready to go, and it looked like we were going to make it, but our getting-into-the-van preparations fell apart, and that one child was rather upset to find that once again, we pulled in at 9:30, almost on the dot.

What I'm getting at here is those getting-into-the-van preparations. Often it's like there's a rule book kids share among themselves, and this section is entitled, "How to Ensure You Never Get Anywhere on Time (bonus - Drive Your Mom Nuts!)". If you remember my "How to Make Your Mom Go Crazy" posts, it's from the same rule book, I'm positive. And this section goes something like this:


*this works best when every child in the house cooperates!

1. Ignore your mom when she tells you cheerfully it's time to get up.

2. When she comes in again, say something about it being too early.

3. When she comes in again and insists you get up, ask her why she's in such a bad mood already.

4. Get up, but wander to the couch or to another bed and settle down with a book. Better yet, turn on the TV, or get totally engrossed in the preschool program that's already on. Don't peel your eyes away from that cute cartoon, by any means. You might accidentally find yourself getting something useful done.

5, Slowly meander back to your room when she insists you GET DRESSED NOW. When she comes to check on your progress fifteen minutes later, be sitting on your bed, preferably with a book again. When she asks you why you aren't dressed, get offended and protest that you have nothing at all to wear.

6. When she finds clothes for you, tell her why they don't fit or feel uncomfortable, or why you're just not in the mood for those particular items today. Unfortunately, she will probably threaten to dress you herself if you don't get up and put those clothes on that instant, so your stalling on this point will be concluded - UNLESS you are a preschooler, in which case you can prolong this phase by throwing yourself on the floor and screaming about how you can't wear clothes that are "poky," the wrong color, or just...clothes. Do this for as long as you have a voice.

7. When your mom, pretty exasperated at this point, tells everyone to get shoes and anything and everything else they need to be ready to leave, assure her that you're all ready to go (this will apply later)

8. Ignore her when she tells you repeatedly that there are breakfast foods on the table, and if you want to eat, you should do so NOW. (Again, this will come in handy later!)

9. Have one person ask her if you're ever going to ready to go, or if you're going to be late AGAIN. Have this person do this on a loop, while the rest of you continue to proceed as slowly as possible.

10. When she finally has you all downstairs, wait until she says, "Okay, let's get in the car," before you do any one - or more! - of the following: a) start getting something to eat (see rule 8), b)tell her that your shoes are broken and you don't have anything else, so how are you going to run in shoes with broken soles? And is she ever going to buy anything new for you? c) tell her that you don't know WHERE your shoes are. (see rule 7).

11. If you choose "c", say you're really sorry you told her you told her you had them. What you meant was that you were pretty sure you knew where they were, but now you have no idea! Pretend to look all over for them, but insist you can't find them. Make sure they're either in a really obvious place, or have been absconded by elves. Either one will produce great results in driving your mom to her wit's end.

12. If she finally does get you all to the car, all of you stand outside it arguing about seating arrangements. Discuss loudly how many times you had a particular seat versus how many times someone else did. This will do it! You will probably be running late, or really pushing it, and your mom will be past reason at this point.

13. Oh sorry - one more thing. When you're finally on the way, say, "What time is [event you're trying to get to]? What?? We're going to be late!" And then ask her why she's so touchy about you "just asking a simply question."

Works every time!

In Which I Get a Taste of My Own Medicine

Last night I was helping Drew work on a report he had done on the Alamo. For being the walking encyclopedia he typically is, the one he had turned in was rather brief, and he had protested that there was just no way he could get three paragraphs out of what he knew. So I helped him flesh out the information he had written, into a more complete report. It was a bit painstaking (but it was still comprised of all his own words, just drawn out with a little guidance). I did resist the urge to say, "Let's say it this way..." and to get carried away rewriting the whole thing myself. What emerged from the process was a decent report, especially for his heart not really being in it (an understatement), but after we were done, I mentioned that I should probably write one myself, so he could have a better idea of what I am generally looking for in the future. I'm not great at many things, but I have been known to write a mean essay.

At my casual murmuring, Drew instantly perked up. "So can I give you a writing assignment?"
I said sure, because that would be neat twist to things. He said, "Okay then, I want a research paper on the Balkan Wars."

The...what? I mean, I know there has been such a thing, but I didn't expect him to have such a challenge at the ready. But a deal is a deal, so after I finish this, I guess I'd better start researching!

Homeschooling in Real Life

Two posts in one day! With this one I return to my usual sort of topic.

I'm going to tell the truth - the last few weeks in particular, I have felt like a complete failure. I have been dismayed to watch our homeschooling year flying away from me, with far less getting done than it seems like ought to be done. Part of the problem, I think, is that I have been doing more lesson plans than I've done in the past several years, so we're probably doing much of the same sort of thing we've always done, and it just seems like less, because it's not in my plans. Whatever the case, I just feel like I am not cutting it, that I am stretched too thin, that I am far behind in just about every aspect, and that I am letting pretty much everyone down in everything I'm doing.

Now, please don't feel the need to make me feel better. I know it's not all true. I'm just admitting that I'm feeling that way. So it makes it all the more ironic - and yet, somehow, not - that I've found myself giving homeschooling advice on no fewer than three occasions in the past week. The first one was at the boys' gymnastics class, when one of the moms suddenly asked me, "Do you homeschool?" She began telling me how she is getting ready to switch from an online program to doing things herself next year. She asked me, somewhat nervously, if I taught all of them at the same time, and I laughed. She apologized for bothering me, and I had to collect myself. "No, no - it's not that, I promise. I don't mind talking homeschooling. It's just that...teaching them together. No, it's not really like that for us." I decided not to tell her about how "teaching" didn't really apply to anything we had done that day, and how it had felt like a bust of a day in general. I just talked about the value of reading and playing, reading and playing, and how trying to make homeschooling like "school" leads to frustration and failure. Ahem.

Fast forward to yesterday, when another mom at dance class said she had thought about homeschooling, and one of her boys really wants to be homeschooled, but he's the one (according to her) who would be the hardest. He's dyslexic and doesn't want to do the work, so it would always be a struggle. I didn't say much in this conversation, but I just thought about how that kid probably would do best homeschooling, if she would allow him an environment of a lot less pressure. I did mention, as always, that we don't do a lot of sit-down work. Also that afternoon, the neighbor from down the street came down to our end of the road to retrieve her toddler, and admitted, out of the blue and with some despair, "Ugh - I just don't know you do it, homeschooling everyone. I can't seem to manage just the one [in first grade]. I'm thinking about putting him in school. Is Chase reading? I'll bet he's reading really well." She cringed as she said it. Now, we haven't really had a great relationship with this neighbor family, but still, I don't like seeing moms under this kind of weight. I looked over at Chase, playing basketball barefoot. I said, "Um, no - whatever you're imagining, probably no." And we talked a little about not comparing to other people, not forcing things, and not doing things out of fear.

I  wonder what any of these moms would think about a typical day of ours, such as yesterday. Granted, we did a bit less than usual because it was such a gorgeous day, but it wasn't that far from normal. I went to the Y with one of the kids, and we worked out. We did some reading at various points in the day, talked about books we read, listened to audio books, and in Aimee's case, worked on writing some books. Aimee also worked on an essay about a book character, the one assignment I did insist on getting done. The ones who are studying for Bible quizzing did some studying on Romans (not light material). The boys played basketball with friends( and later with Dave until it was almost dark), rode bikes, and jumped on the trampoline. I took Chase to dance class, and we enjoyed some one on one time before and after he spent an hour learning a modern dance routine. I read aloud to him at one point, but the only reading he did was reading things on Minecraft and Dragonvale (which he can do surprisingly well. Hmmm).  At one point in the day, the boys took apart my old Kindle, which had been smashed a few months prior. There was hardly any sitting down at any point, and hardly any "teaching." Now, there are other days in which we tackle more technical subjects, and those can be good ones, too. But no matter what kind of day it is, the most learning happens when there is peace. And of course there are times when kids need a nudge here and there to be pushed past "I can't" and "It's too hard." There are times when deadlines can serve a purpose. But when we are prompted to do those things out of fear, or out of comparison, they are no good, and homeschooling is, in fact "too hard."

And how do we know when to push a bit, and when just to let the day happen? That's the trick, I guess, but I think it comes just from being with your kids, which is the real work of homeschooling. Just knowing them. Just being. No fear, no strife. Just life.

A Few Thoughts on Romans

So...it's been a long time. I'm thinking of revamping my blog and starting over - I'm not sure how that would help me post more frequently, but it sounds good. 

At any rate, I have a couple of posts in mind today. The first is on something that struck me a couple weeks ago while I was helping one of the kids study for Bible quizzing. They are, as I've said before, studying Romans and James this year, and Romans has been a little tough for the younger kids to memorize. I hope, though, that they'll be able to tuck it away for later, because it is so good, and so thorough. So very, very thorough as Paul goes into depth - rather wordy depth at times - about many concepts. There have been more than a few times in which one or more of the kids on the team have said, "What does that even mean?", and we've done our best to find out, even though I admit, I'm not always sure. And on this particular passage, I may be missing the mark a bit. But this is how it struck me. Romans 13:8-10 says, "Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. For the commandments, 'You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not covet,' and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' Love does no wrong to a neighbor,' therefore love is the fulfilling of the law." What struck me about this is that it does not say, "The commandments are okay, but what God really cares about is LOVE." Love is the fulfilling of all the commandments, not instead of them. God still cares about everything he always has - he's still as holy and awesome as ever, which is why Romans ought to make us all the more grateful that Jesus has us covered. Not so that we don't have to worry about those pesky rules - but so the rules are met, the price paid, and the commandments - given for a reason, and still important - fulfilled. And fulfilling the commandments is loving each other.

And going on from that, he does talk about not passing judgment on each other as we love each other. But what I love so much about that chapter is that it isn't the picture of non-judgmental behavior we often get these days. It is not. "I am free to do what I want, and you ignorant, small-minded fellow believer can't judge me." I'm just going to say that I really, really loathe that attitude. What Paul says in Romans 14, however, is this - "Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother." He puts as much responsibility - or perhaps even more - on the one who feels free to eat a particular thing, or not observe a particular day, as he does on the one who does not feel as free. He not only says "don't pass judgment" (and we're talking about those gray areas here), he also says. "don't despise." And go out of your way to make sure your freedom doesn't cause a problem for fellow believers. And whatever you do, do it out of faith. because, God is still holy,  and righteousness is still of utmost importance. We ought to be a little scared of missing that! And then we ought to be extremely thankful that we don't have to achieve it ourselves. I think that ought to inspire something quite different than the "Don't judge me; I can do what I want." kind of thinking.

The Debate You Really Want to Hear More About

I imagine by now THE debate (with Ken Ham and Bill Nye, if any explanation is needed) is getting to be old news and anyway, this post will barely be a drop in the bucket of all that has been said about it already. My thoughts on the topic have been weighing on my mind, however, so I need to write them out to make room for all the other things to which I need to attend. I'm far too busy for philosophical musings!

At any rate, our family watched the debate and found it interesting. Much has been said about it, as I've mentioned, and I'm far from qualified to offer much opinion on the science discussed or the logic (or, at times, lack thereof) with which it was discussed, so I don't intend to do that here. But after watching it, and then reading the articles and Facebook discussions afterward, I will say that I felt a bit overwhelmed and discouraged by pondering the heavy artillery with which my children's very belief systems will be assailed when they reach adulthood and leave home. It's not that they will encounter ideas with which they are not familiar - they are fairly well educated about various theories and beliefs, and they know that they are in the minority when it comes to...well, a lot of things - but the vitriol against our worldview (and not just on the creation/evolution aspect) is increasing, and not only from unbelievers, but from fellow believers! That, I think, is the most distressing thing about all of this. I expect that my children will have thoughts and opinions different than mine - they already do, of course - and I expect that when they are adults, we will disagree on some issues. Perhaps we will disagree on big issues. I don't teach them and train them to believe a list of things, contrary perhaps to what detractors of our faith and life choices think - I do raise them within the worldview I believe, but I try to teach them to think critically, to evaluate all the evidence, and to weigh and measure all things with to the senses and intelligence God has given them and according to the leading of the Spirit within them. I mean, ideally, anyway. So it might be hard to find they've rejected a particular notion of mine, or that they embrace an idea I find ridiculous, but I don't think I'll be disappointed in them.

I will, however, be disappointed in them if I hear of them mocking or belittling anyone who holds a different viewpoint, just as I am always disappointed in Christians who behave in such a way toward their brothers and sisters in Christ. Of course heresy should be exposed, along with genuinely sinful behavior. And obviously I understand that public figures and leaders open themselves up to more criticism than would be appropriate toward the average person. But it saddens me to see Christians calling Ken Ham an idiot or a fool, or even just mocking young-Earth Creationists in general for being stupid. I expect that from non-Christians, but it's dreadful to hear it from fellow believers. It's even worse, I think, when such a thing is accompanied by some sort of apology to unbelievers for the ignorance of backwards Christians, along with an attempt to explain how "real" Christianity is much more relevant, nice, smart, plausible, in step with real life, etc, etc, etc. It may be that there are some foolish and ignorant Christians who don't do the faith any favors by speaking up. But I think about the army of faithful servants who pray, work, serve, and love in their following of Jesus and advancing of the kingdom - people who also hold to those clunky, old-fashioned, out-of step beliefs - and it's shameful that their "hipper" (is that a word?) counterparts should mock them so that Christianity can appear less stupid to the "outside world," as Bill Nye kept referring to it.

It's not that Christians can't disagree and debate the facts, of course. Hopefully, we can defend our beliefs and opinions with facts and evidence. It's almost certain that one side (of any given issue, really) IS, in fact, right, and one side is wrong (although I imagine we'll all discover in the end that God is much, much bigger than anything we could have ever possibly comprehended, and that our idea of "right" is embarrassingly puny. And it's not that we can't discuss and debate those facts with the "those on the outside." (Bill Nye made a point to use that term repeatedly. I kept imagining a giant compound for all Creationists. Well, not that giant - he made it clear that Creationists are in a tiny, tiny minority - which makes me wonder, incidentally, what in the world he's worried about.)
But I think we should remember a couple of things: 1.) that no matter how intelligent, well-read, and logical we become, for Christians, "Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." and 2.) we can align ourselves with facts, and offer evidence and proof to back up our beliefs, but there just will be times when Christianity, and Christians by extension, will appear foolish and incomprehensibly stupid. If we try to avoid that at all costs, we will back ourselves right out of the faith. I understand there are many opinions among Christians about the details of the creation of the world, and there may be legitimate evidence to back up each one. There are some Christians, though, who go so far as to beg other Christians to stop pitting themselves against what is obviously science, because we are alienating people when we do that. But we don't have to go very far before we do have to make a choice - do we believe in the virgin birth or not? Do we believe in Jesus' resurrection from the dead or not? Just those two events are a bit of a problem with science. So argue all you want about how your side is more intelligent and plausible and in line with "real" science than another side, but all sides have to come to a point at which they must choose whether to embrace something that is definitely stupid and implausible as far as the world is concerned. And if they don't...well, that's quite a big problem.

And that's just the beginning. I certainly don't think that Christians should go out their way to be illogical idiots, but there will be plenty of times when we will be considered foolish. And while we are commanded to give an answer to what we are asked "with gentleness and respect," there's no command to make sure we are relevant, hip, or in line with the current scientific or philosophical thinking of the day. There's also no admonition toward technological advancement, and on that point of the debate I will give my opinion. Bill Nye is apparently very worried that those who embrace Creationism (and all kinds, by the way, so it doesn't matter what kind of creation you believe in - if you believe that God was in any way behind it, you're a moron, and a dangerous one at that) will hinder the advancement of technology, which is, for him, the altar on which everything must be offered. I will venture to say that Ken Ham did a good job in presenting examples of scientists who believe in a six-day Creation, and yet have contributed and still do contribute to the advancement of modern technology. That's great, of course. I think there are plenty of Creationists who are curious about discovery and can and do make important contributions to our culture. I think many times they can do it in logical ways that do appear intelligent to the world. But I also think it's also okay to say that it's not really our primary concern, so I guess Bill Nye is right about that in one sense. Our job is advancing the kingdom, NOT technology.

At which point I'm sure at least someone read, "Creationists ARE against science."

Adding Up the Cost

As I've posted on Facebook recently, we went to Pittsburgh this past weekend for a Bible quizzing tournament. As we unloaded, we discovered that one of the Kindles, my old one, had been damaged beyond repair when the driver's seat had been moved back on it. I reflected with grim amusement that it was a rather costly addition to the total cost of our trip, which, while not outrageous, was nothing to sneeze at. And then - because I do this when it comes to money - I started to ponder the total cost for our whole team.

Four cars made the four hour trip from the Dayton area to Pittsburgh.
One car made an eight hour trip from South Carolina!
Nine or ten hotel rooms were secured.
Our church paid the cost of registration for three teams.
23 Chick-fil-A catered lunches were purchased, plus numerous snacks and drinks for quizzers throughout the weekend.
Twenty-two of us splurged on dinner at Buca di Beppo following the tournament.
And, of course, the smashed up Kindle.

Adding up the actual dollars would make me anxious, so I'm not going to do that. And I haven't even begun to talk about the hours that went into planning, preparing, driving, herding kids, encouraging and exhorting kids, comforting kids, celebrating with kids, going back and forth between buildings - and up and down three flights of stairs - where quizzes were held. so we could check in on all three teams...

Was it worth it?

I mean, really, it's not like there are career opportunities in quizzing (if there were, I know I'm not the only former quizzer who would have been ALL over that!). There aren't even big scholarships to be had for these kids. Even in the most immediate sense of reward, everyone has a good time, but, truthfully, it's not a high-energy funfest. It involves mostly work - studying in the weeks and months beforehand, and participating in quiz after quiz after quiz during the tournament. A few of them get ribbons or trophies in the end - most go home just with memories. Almost all of them want to go back, and almost all the parents and grandparents are willing to pour all that money and all those man-hours in again the next year.

Why?

Because, as I've said before and will say again and again, there's nothing like quizzing for filling kids with pure, unfiltered, and uncensored Scripture. Nothing. I repeat - nothing. That's not to say all this expense is necessary for getting kids to memorize large portions of Scripture. But...are they actually doing it it elsewhere? And I'm not being insulting, I promise. I put a high value on memorization, but it's hard to do and to get kids to do, I know. But quizzing provides a means to that end, and in no other program that I know of do kids get the amount of Scripture that they do in quizzing - and in a form that gives them the whole picture. I think that is vital, by the way. The danger in memory verses, in my humble opinion, is that they can give people incomplete and ineffective information. How many people have heard, "All things work together for good?" And how many of those people are bewildered and assailed with doubt when circumstances don't really come together for any kind of good whatsoever? It's not the whole picture, people - read the the whole book. And here, this very year, we have 3rd through 12th graders doing just that, reading, listening to, and memorizing the entire book of Romans -and not just once, but over and over. Then they come together with kids from other towns and other churches, and they share that knowledge.

In one of the quizzes, our team of 3rd grade boys was competing, and they were having some trouble keeping still enough to keep their lights off. (Junior quizzers are generally smaller than who the lights and benches were designed for). So on one question, the quizmaster began, "Put..." and Ryan's light went off by mistake. But at that point, mistake or no, quizzers have to try to answer. So he got up, thought about it for a few seconds, then shrugged and guessed, "Put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness?" The quizmaster said, "Correct," and the room erupted in cheers. What a fun moment! And how wonderful. I rather doubt this would be passed out as a memory verse anywhere else - it's not very pretty. But the rest of it is "...and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls."

The Word is truly being planted in their hearts - and in a way that will empower them to choose, to defend, and to grow. It's the Word that is able to save their souls. So yes, that's worth it.

In Which I Dissect a Perfectly Good Children's Movie

We went down South this past weekend to visit my family. Dave couldn't come with us, so I took five kids and a dog on the longest trip I've ever attempted by myself, much less with all that crew. We had our difficult moments along the way, but I kept telling the kids (and myself), "I know it's hard, but just keep thinking about how it's going to be totally worth it!" And it was. Lots of family, lots of food, lots of noise, lots of fun... All my parents' grandchildren were there, and the ten of them had more fun together than sometimes the adults could stand - like when they made a fort out of the hall closet doors that had somehow detached, or when they tried to see how high they could stack bean bags against the pool table. There was also gleeful running, for no apparent reason, in circles, round and round and round and round and round my parents' house, accompanied by squeals of delight. But it was delight, so that made it just fine. We also saw my youngest sister and her very soon husband-to-be, and that was truly wonderful, as we hadn't seen them in two years.

So a good visit all the way around. One day we took all the kids to the theater to see Frozen, and that was fun, too. My three-year old niece's running commentary throughout the movie was truly the best thing ever, incidentally. It was even more enjoyable than the movie itself, which I did enjoy, but Aimee and I talked it over afterwards and worked out all the ways it could have been even better. Because of course it was very Disney - fairly predictable characters, slapstick comic relief, and a tidy, happy ending, which wasn't bad at all (the snowman really was quite funny), but as a supposed retelling of the Snow Queen, it could have been so much better.

 I don't want to spoil it for anyone, so I won't rehash the whole movie. But I think Aimee and I agreed that the divide between the characters should have been sharper, and Elsa, the older sister, should have been made to descend even deeper into the dark side (or the cold side, if you rather). Instead, one thing I saw in the story - in the characters and even in the visuals - was that warm, sunny and extroverted equals good; while cold, reserved, and introverted equals, while not "bad" exactly, certainly not-as-good. Granted, Elsa had to be reserved and restrained, so perhaps hers was not a completely natural introversion, but even so, sometimes there are instances in which a person must stay reserved to stay on top of personal struggles.

So I rolled my eyes once or twice during the song in which the girls are both anticipating the same event, and yet Anna sings warmly and freely about opening doors, and Elsa anxiously sings about closing them. The idea of people and events swarming into an environment certainly does seem wonderful to some people, and it would be hard to be cut off from that. But that Elsa didn't want that, that she found it stressful and a strain on her careful protection of her unwanted ice skills, wasn't, to me, as sad as the movie wanted it to be. As an introvert, often that's precisely how I feel, so I certainly sympathized with her character. Now, some may point out that she didn't want to feel that way, because she was desperately trying to hide her skills/curse. As I said, though, sometimes it IS necessary to exercise restraint, and that means you can't just open up to everyone and be happy. I have OCD, and I think I have mentioned this before, but it is not at all what is commonly portrayed. It isn't simply the desire to have things in order, to be meticulous, or to have an aversion to germs. In fact, in more than half the cases of OCD, the compulsions aren't obvious to outsiders. Look up "Pure O," and you'll have a pretty good view of my struggle since childhood. It's one I've had a great deal of victory in, and I am not at all trying to get a pity party together for myself. But it takes work, it drains energy, and it is something that prevents me from being able to "just relax," or "just let things go." If I didn't direct effort toward staying on top of things, in fact, it would overwhelm me. Often, it hinders my ability to be spontaneous and to seem relaxed and free. So I could completely identify with Elsa in the scene in which her sister is trying to talk to her, to share with her, and Elsa is sitting on the other side of the wall, in her room, surrounded by the ice she was trying to desperately to control and hide - but which she couldn't.

Obviously, the fact that Elsa was unhappy and unable to interact with her sister at all wasn't a desirable state. But I thought the eventual treatment her character received robbed her of her essence. I would have preferred a true Snow Queen - whose colder, more reserved qualities were actually validated, even if it mean that it set her apart from others. I think she could have had a story in which she found a level of freedom, but that also acknowledged that she could never have been as carefree as her sister, just as many of us in the real world are never, for various reasons, going to be as warm, cheerful , and carefree as some others. And it's okay.

But it IS a children's movie, of course, and as such, it was cute.