"Nothing worth doing is easy."
I'm working on a sekrit project, which I'll eventually (in 2010) reveal, but as I was taking the first steps towards completion of it, I had to remind myself frequently of the above statement. Nothing worth doing is easy. Nothing worth doing is easy.
It's applicable to homeschooling, as well. Let's assume that if a person decides to homeschool their children, they also feel it is worth doing. Let's further assume that they feel it's worth doing well.
That's not going to be easy.
What's difficult about it will vary for different people. For some, it's giving up a large amount of their "me time." For others, it will be focusing on multiple subjects at multiple levels for multiple children - every day. The guarantee, however, is this: it won't be easy.
Some homeschoolers, though, seem to think that Staples sells a Homeschoolers Version of their Easy Button. Don't get me wrong; there may be days, subjects, weeks, whole months that will seem easy. The journey is long, however; it will not always be smooth sailing. So many of the posts that can be found on message boards and mailing lists, however, are essentially a well-cloaked version of "I need the Easy Button for this!"
There's nothing wrong with lamenting the lack of Easy Button, but trouble can start if someone attempts to fashion one. Putting a high school age student and a third grader together for history? There's at least one person who will tell you that sure, that can work! Teach the same exact science material to all four of your children (and, no, none of them are the product of multiple births)? I guarantee a respondent will tell you that they've done just that. In most cases, though, you're sacrificing a component of at least one child's education.
Similarly, the time advantage of homeschooling will begin to wane at some point. This will be either because your child doesn't have homework, or because your child is doing more than he or she would in a traditional school - a second foreign language, religious studies, extra science, two math programs, or in-depth arts study, perhaps. Yes, that makes it harder. More of your time has to be devoted to supervising, guiding, and teaching, even if the actual face-to-face teaching time has decreased.
We wish it were easy. I certainly do. It would be nice to press the Easy Button for some aspect of homeschooling - just one! But I can't.
No, it's not easy.
But nothing worth doing is.
22.11.09
Style
One of the pitfalls of homeschooling, I think, is the possibility for the primary homeschooling parent to have his or her identity swamped. Swamped? Yes. Under the lists of living books, the catalogs of curriculum, and the detritus of daily work, I think a homeschooling parent's identity can start to be defined ever more narrowly.
Being aware of this danger, I do try to mitigate it. I can feel myself slipping under the pile at times, and then I know it's time to reenergize and renew. Sometimes it's simple, but other times, it feels like the pile is taller. Heavier.
I mention this because this week I've been having fun with a book called Style Statement: Live By Your Own Design. The idea is that, through the exercises in the book, you eventually discover your own two-word style statement, following the 80/20 principle. The first word is your 80%, your foundation. The second word is your 20%, your creative edge.
I don't particularly want to share my style statement (some people might, there's no right or wrong way to go about it), but oh, the process has been fun. Once I found my statement, I then personalized the definitions and words associated with it. The result is a one-page description that really beautiful defines me, in the best possible way.
The best part, though, is that the book doesn't end with discovering your style statement. It has suggestions of how to use your style statement, going forward. There are suggestions of actions to take, journaling prompts, and specific ideas of what you could do on a weekly basis.
The appeal of it, though, from a homeschooling parent's perspective, is that it's simple. Once you have your style statement, you have it. It's done. Two words that you can use as a touchstone, no matter what else you may be doing. That, I think, is powerful.
Being aware of this danger, I do try to mitigate it. I can feel myself slipping under the pile at times, and then I know it's time to reenergize and renew. Sometimes it's simple, but other times, it feels like the pile is taller. Heavier.
I mention this because this week I've been having fun with a book called Style Statement: Live By Your Own Design. The idea is that, through the exercises in the book, you eventually discover your own two-word style statement, following the 80/20 principle. The first word is your 80%, your foundation. The second word is your 20%, your creative edge.
I don't particularly want to share my style statement (some people might, there's no right or wrong way to go about it), but oh, the process has been fun. Once I found my statement, I then personalized the definitions and words associated with it. The result is a one-page description that really beautiful defines me, in the best possible way.
The best part, though, is that the book doesn't end with discovering your style statement. It has suggestions of how to use your style statement, going forward. There are suggestions of actions to take, journaling prompts, and specific ideas of what you could do on a weekly basis.
The appeal of it, though, from a homeschooling parent's perspective, is that it's simple. Once you have your style statement, you have it. It's done. Two words that you can use as a touchstone, no matter what else you may be doing. That, I think, is powerful.
21.11.09
Staging a House of Homeschoolers
Like any good homeschooler, FB has been paying attention to various aspects of life, even if they aren't related to school. Since I've been researching staging the house in preparation for selling it, I've watched some related shows on television. FB has offered me staging advice since then ("I think we should move this furniture around in order to sell this house!); he's also asked me to buy Sunsweet Ones, showing that advertising works.
In order to stage the house most effectively, though, we're going to be moving furniture, as FB suggested. Our current homeschool room is going to be repurposed, and our homeschooling space will be shared with the playroom space. We're repainting and buying a few accessories and the like. We're also learning how to improvise.
Today's finds: a round table with four chairs, a piece of art for the living room, and a small rug to define a 'foyer.' The table was a big deal; we really needed to stage the dining room with a round table, but we can't really use a round table because we need a bigger one, not a smaller one. Yay Goodwill!
In order to stage the house most effectively, though, we're going to be moving furniture, as FB suggested. Our current homeschool room is going to be repurposed, and our homeschooling space will be shared with the playroom space. We're repainting and buying a few accessories and the like. We're also learning how to improvise.
Today's finds: a round table with four chairs, a piece of art for the living room, and a small rug to define a 'foyer.' The table was a big deal; we really needed to stage the dining room with a round table, but we can't really use a round table because we need a bigger one, not a smaller one. Yay Goodwill!
20.11.09
Busy busy day
Trying an experiment... Blogging from the iPhone! We're waiting for food at Steak N Shake, after birthday fun and EG's fall concert for band. Yay!
19.11.09
Reflections...
Purple Child turns one tomorrow. Today, however, is a Thursday, and she was decidedly born on a Thursday, one week before Thanksgiving, so I can't help but feel like today is an anniversary of sorts, even though it's not her birthday.
I'll post her birth story tomorrow (publicly! omg!). Some impressions and reflections though...
And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free resonated with me before the birth. It would become a mantra after the birth.
Thursday nights. Girl Scout nights. I was having contractions, avoiding seeing too many people anyway. My mom took EG to the meeting. I was the leader. I had planned meetings for the rest of the year with my co-leaders. My 02s.
(Plans they threw out.)
My mom went to get EG early. Somehow, she had known. Feverishly working on her project, "in case she had to leave early."
(That was the first time they were rude to EG. They hadn't dared before that night, because I was usually there.)
The space shuttle was supposed to be visible. I posted online about Al Gore coming to my city. I was riding the post-election euphoria still. I had thought she was waiting just for the election, but she waited a little longer than that.
(It was the beginning of the end for me, but they had already castigated me and turned me out. I just didn't know it yet. I tried, I tried so hard, for the girls.)
And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free
Someone told me that Purple Child would bring me clarity and continue to teach me things. She did. She let me hang on to that mantra. As I had shut out the world on a chilly November night and brought her into the world, I could shut out the people that would hamper me from flying.
I tried to insert myself, to protect people, and they tried so hard to bring me down. I had to walk away, in the end, five months later. I had to be free. But I knew they couldn't bring me down. It's all so tied up in PC's birth, the process she initiated, the things I learned.
It hurt. A lot.
It feels good to be free.
I'll post her birth story tomorrow (publicly! omg!). Some impressions and reflections though...
And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free resonated with me before the birth. It would become a mantra after the birth.
Thursday nights. Girl Scout nights. I was having contractions, avoiding seeing too many people anyway. My mom took EG to the meeting. I was the leader. I had planned meetings for the rest of the year with my co-leaders. My 02s.
(Plans they threw out.)
My mom went to get EG early. Somehow, she had known. Feverishly working on her project, "in case she had to leave early."
(That was the first time they were rude to EG. They hadn't dared before that night, because I was usually there.)
The space shuttle was supposed to be visible. I posted online about Al Gore coming to my city. I was riding the post-election euphoria still. I had thought she was waiting just for the election, but she waited a little longer than that.
(It was the beginning of the end for me, but they had already castigated me and turned me out. I just didn't know it yet. I tried, I tried so hard, for the girls.)
And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free
Someone told me that Purple Child would bring me clarity and continue to teach me things. She did. She let me hang on to that mantra. As I had shut out the world on a chilly November night and brought her into the world, I could shut out the people that would hamper me from flying.
I tried to insert myself, to protect people, and they tried so hard to bring me down. I had to walk away, in the end, five months later. I had to be free. But I knew they couldn't bring me down. It's all so tied up in PC's birth, the process she initiated, the things I learned.
It hurt. A lot.
It feels good to be free.
17.11.09
Four
I wish I could bottle four, and save it forever.
There's a simple joy in a four year old. A love of life, and every experience is cherished. Treasured. Emotions run high - a moment after laughing, there could be tears. Intensity, yes, but a growing ability to listen. A smidgen of reasoning. A delight in accumulating new knowledge.
I love the paradigms that four constructs, both the nonsensical and the more logical.
Today FB was watching me make meatloaf. "Is that ground beef from our cow?"
(We bought a quarter of a local, grass-fed cow back in June.)
After I affirmed, that yes, it was from our cow, he asked me how I had made meatloaf before we bought the cow. In his mind, he can't remember the paradigm before, where we bought it at the grocery store.
We didn't get a digital camera until just as EG turned five, so all of my pictures of her at four are on film, not digitized. One of my favorites of her, ever, though, was taken that year. Standing on the beach, bathed in the waning sunlight, her grin both innocent and impish. Sometimes I'd like to have that four year old back - and I know I can't.
I know I can't stop FB at four, either. I won't be able to keep PC from turning five in her time. I just have to try to store the days up in my head and remember them. All 1,095 of them.
There's a simple joy in a four year old. A love of life, and every experience is cherished. Treasured. Emotions run high - a moment after laughing, there could be tears. Intensity, yes, but a growing ability to listen. A smidgen of reasoning. A delight in accumulating new knowledge.
I love the paradigms that four constructs, both the nonsensical and the more logical.
Today FB was watching me make meatloaf. "Is that ground beef from our cow?"
(We bought a quarter of a local, grass-fed cow back in June.)
After I affirmed, that yes, it was from our cow, he asked me how I had made meatloaf before we bought the cow. In his mind, he can't remember the paradigm before, where we bought it at the grocery store.
We didn't get a digital camera until just as EG turned five, so all of my pictures of her at four are on film, not digitized. One of my favorites of her, ever, though, was taken that year. Standing on the beach, bathed in the waning sunlight, her grin both innocent and impish. Sometimes I'd like to have that four year old back - and I know I can't.
I know I can't stop FB at four, either. I won't be able to keep PC from turning five in her time. I just have to try to store the days up in my head and remember them. All 1,095 of them.
