How Long?

“How long will you homeschool?”

“Will you homeschool high school?”

“Are you going to keep doing that through high school graduation?”

Haven’t we all heard at least one of those questions, or a variation thereof? For whatever reason, it is deeply important to some people that they ascertain if we’re the homeschooler who is going to see it all the way through, until the bitter end. (Thank goodness these people don’t know about the possible ways to ‘homeschool college.’)

The answer for us, is yes, we’re going to keep going, and homeschool high school. In theory, we’ll make sure that there are not better options when each of the children is entering high school, but I am confident that there are not. I also feel like I will want the “reward” of teaching my teenagers. I love teenagers. It makes me sad to think about having a finite number of teenage children. I’m putting in the sweat and tears of grammar and logic stages so we can homeschool rhetoric stage. To be honest, on many levels, I cannot wait for high school!

Still, that’s a long time. In fact, counting from the “first day of kindergarten” for EG, to the projected graduation date for PC, I’ll be in the trenches for nearly 22 years. Sure, that includes weekends and summers, and other holidays, but if you homeschool, you understand: homeschool moms very rarely get true, complete holidays. I, at least, feel like I am constantly researching, planning, and evaluating, even if only in my mind and not on paper or screen. From today, then, I’ve still got about 16 years or so of this gig.

That, of course, assumes that I don’t have another child. The decision about that has not been made. Just for fun, though, if I did, it would bring my time homeschooling to about 26 years total.

I feel that, at the end, I should receive a pension and a plaque. At the very least, I think I’ll expect a gold watch or the equivalent thereof. Twenty-six years, y’all. Phew.

Is It All Possible?

I've often lamented, to myself and others, that I just need to find "the answer." When I find that answer, I think, I'll be able to accomplish all that I want to accomplish. The fact that I don't currently merely shows a lack of willpower, initiative, creativity, or problem-solving ability. This, anyway, is the thesis from which I work.

What if my thesis isn't actually true?

I have a number of things that I want to do, and do well. Though you might not realize it upon walking into my house, I can be a perfectionist. If I can't do something perfectly, I'd rather just not do it at all, which actually does explain my house. I often let the perfect become the enemy of the good.

What if my expectations are simply too high? What if all the things I feel deserve 100% add up to more than 24 hours in a day? Maybe it's not that I need more problem-solving ability or willpower. Maybe it's simply that I've reached my limits, insofar as my life is currently configured.

My daily tasks & desires run more or less as follows:
- Schoolwork with EG, which includes checking her work, teaching her, and helping her stay on track with her work
- Schoolwork with FB, of which all but 10-15 minutes is direct instruction & sitting with him
- Parenting EG, FB, & PC
- any activities outside the house for EG or FB, which usually involve a period of “sit and wait” for me (I do try to utilize that time for reading or knitting when possible)
- knitting, 15 minutes average (in practice, I will knit a lot for several days, then none for several, and I often knit while watching television)
- reading, 30 minutes (a book I have not previously read)
- magazines, kindle books (I have a backlog), or re-reading, 15 minutes/1 chapter/1 magazine (whichever comes 'first')
- exercise of some type
- cooking or otherwise preparing three meals per day
- decluttering time, 15 minutes
- school prep, which generally takes between one and two hours weekly
- general housework, which may on a given day include vacuuming, laundry, cleaning bathrooms, or any one of a number of myriad tasks, not including the dinner dishes, the trash, or the litter box, ever, thankfully

Let's be honest. It's the world we live in, so I must also include...
- blogging
- email
- facebook and other social media

Then there's the current tasks of
- packing
- otherwise organizing to move

There are more sporadic tasks as well, like the duties I have for various community organizations, switching out clothes for a new season, choosing curriculum, and writing lesson plans.

Maybe, given the way our life is currently scheduled and otherwise designed, it's not all possible. No amount of waking early in the morning will give me the ability to drive to the Y, work out, and get back before dh has to go to work, not without my going to bed before the kids at night. I don't want to become a drudge; I do need leisure time. My ideal would be approximately one hour of television per weeknight, on average, as well as the above time for reading, knitting, and digital tasks.

I'm sure there are people that do everything I've listed on the list above, and then do even more. The question is not about theoretical possibility. The question is about whether I can do these things to my personal standards, and within the constraints of the schedule we have.

An example, then: I am unwilling to put the kids into the childcare at the Y, despite the fact that it is a "benefit" of membership. This is mostly because I had such negative experiences with it when FB was younger. However, the childcare at the Y is also closed for three hours each afternoon–the very same three hours which would be best for us! I'm not willing to yield on the time we devote to school in the mornings, nor am I willing to concede the children's afternoon activities or dinner as a family. The end result, then, is that it’s very difficult for me to utilize the Y. Now, of course, there are alternate exercising options, and the point is not to solicit comments and suggestions, because really, I can brainstorm. ;) In fact, the point is simple: as my life is currently structured, perhaps I truly can’t do everything I want to do. Perhaps I need to focus more on a few things at a time. These last two weeks have been a time for looking at curriculum and planning for the convention later this month; consequently, I’ve done less reading and knitting. Now that I feel I have a good handle on my plan, I can move back towards more reading and knitting. Perhaps this is how it needs to be; I simply don’t know.

Throwing the Baby Out With the Bathwater

There’s a popular animation of a portion of a TED talk on changing educational paradigms. It makes some good points. Other treatises on education about improved technology can similarly make some good points. However. Kids still have to be able to spell, to write, to do arithmetic and higher math, and have basic knowledge about their world. In some ways, the proliferation of technology makes it MORE important to master the traditional subjects, so that we're not manipulated by the technology.

It’s not possible, of course, to do an exhaustive study of any one subject. The fact that it’s not possible, though, doesn’t mean we should cease to attempt any study of the subjects at all.

Sometimes we need to find new ways to teach a subject. Because of a child’s gifts, strengths, weaknesses, quirks, or a combination of some or all of the previous, the so-called traditional way (what was or has been used in the last fifty to one hundred fifty years) may not work for that child. When that happens, we look for alternatives. One of my children thrives with a workbook approach to spelling. The other one needs a more multisensory, rules-based curriculum with a lot of review. The latter curriculum does not “look” like what many expect of a spelling curriculum. She’s still learning to spell (albeit, at times, somewhat slowly and painfully, but that’s not related to the curriclum).

Sometimes we have to add a new subject to the curriculum. Computer programming was rarely taught to any but an interested minority even fifteen years ago. Today, I would allege that some basic understanding of programming principles is essential. Most people would do well to know basic HTML. One hundred years ago, humanity’s knowledge in most scientific fields was a mere fraction of what has been catalogued today. The Neo-Darwinian Synthesis alone changed biology significantly, and that’s just one small fraction of what’s been learned in just one main area of science.

Sometimes we have to change when a subject is taught. Nearly forty years ago, my mother learned typing in high school. Teaching it sooner was not considered necessary. I learned to type twenty years ago, in junior high. Times were changing, and it was considered necessary at a younger age. Today, I’m requiring my daughter to master typing before finishing fifth grade. The technology has changed, and I want her to be the master of it, not at its mercy.

What doesn’t need to change are the skills. A well-educated citizen still needs to be able to communicate clearly and competently, both in speech and in print. A well-educated citizen needs to be able to comprehend what she or he reads or hears, whether it’s from a podcast, on the radio, on paper, or scrolling by on computer screen. A well-educated citizen needs to understand mathematics. A well-educated citizen needs to be protected against manipulation by the forces that would manipulate him or her: the media, large corporations, politicians, and advertisements are only a few.

Doing something differently, or a new way, for the sake of doing it differently or in a new way does not result in academic excellence. It will not result in children who are magically better prepared for the future world of work. Doing something because it is different or new is as foolish as doing something solely because it is the way it has “always been done.” Of course we should evaluate and re-evaluate our curricula, our approaches, our goals, and our overall course of study for our children; evaluation is a necessary part of teaching. Deciding to approach a a subject differently for no other reason than it is “outside the box,” however, is no better than deciding to teach only history that happened before World War I, because that’s how it was done in the 1920s. Both approaches are foolishly short-sighted, and remind us, again and again, that we must begin with the end in mind.

A Book Gushing

I wish I could remember where I saw The House of Intellect recommended. I thought perhaps it was on the WTM boards, but a search has not yielded a result when I enclose “House of Intellect” in the necessary quotation marks. So, then, maybe it was on a blog that I follow. If it was one of you reading this, I must say – thank you.

I needed to read this book. It was written in 1959, and yet so much of what Barzun has to say is still topical. In fact, there were times I felt it was eerily prescient.

I appreciated many things about this book, and I felt it gave me much with which to grapple. I want to pick it up and reread it. For those of you who read the recent threads about traditional grammar and structural grammar on the WTM boards, there are a few pages where he takes up the cause of traditional grammar for students in face of linguistic objections. He mentions several times the importance of what he terms the “traditional” curriculum – Latin, of course, and logic, as well as mathematics, memorization, and ancient Greek.

I don’t feel quite adequate of giving the book a proper review, so instead I’ll include a few of the quotes I noted for myself.

“To effect these changes is not a superhuman task if the firmness and rigor that are being preached to the schools exist also in our individual souls. The discipline of hard work in reading, writing, and counting must be matched at home by attention to speech, manners, and thought.” (p253)

“Meanwhile, the simple but difficult arts of paying attention, copying accurately, following an argument, detecting an ambiguity or a false inference, testing guesses by summoning up contrary instances, organizing one’s time and one’s thoughts for study – all these arts, which cannot be taught in the air but only through the difficulties of a defined subject, which cannot be taught in one course or one year, but must be acquired gradually, in dozens of connections. . . ” (p113-114)

"This is the corruption of the pedagogic advice of Montaigne and Rousseau. 'Teach the very young with aid of real things,' they said (like Aristotle earlier), 'let children learn by doing.' They thought of the curriculum and Latin declensions and figures of logic, and wanted a little open-air life and bodily activity to relieve it." (p106)

And, finally, perhaps my favorite quote, especially in light of the post I wrote last week.

“All private and public affairs, moreover, must have unremittingly applied to them to criterion of work. The business of learning must above all others be represented in its true guise as difficult, as demanding effort.” (p254)

The House of Intellect, Jacques Barzun. Still alive today, I would love to sit down and discuss the world with this author.

Secular Thursday: A Little Hard Work

I think too many homeschooling parents are afraid of hard work, with regards to what they require of their children. I see it in several areas. It seems at time like many are afraid of requiring "too much" work for a child. Others are afraid of being seen as "too rigid." Still others are afraid of accusations of being "elitist."

Let's address the question of being "elitist" first. I'll quote Aaron Sorkin's piece about if Obama met Bartlet: "And by the way, if you do nothing else, take that word back. Elite is a good word, it means well above average. I’d ask them what their problem is with excellence."

Who wants to argue with President Bartlet? I certainly don't. I'll accept him as the final word on being elite. Let's be well above average. Let's be excellent.

When it comes to "too much" work, the oft-cited schedules and guidelines in The Well-Trained Mind come under fire. For first grade, for example, daily work is suggested that should, according to the guidelines, take between one hour forty-five minutes and two hours thirty minutes. Additionally, thirty minutes should be spent on fun reading during another portion of the day. Non-daily subjects add up to 7 to 8 hours per week, or an additional 84 to 96 minutes per day. Please keep in mind that this non-daily work includes art projects, picture study, and an hour of listening to classical music. Not all work that we as adults categorize as school is considered onerous, work, or "school" by our children.

Still, then. Our minimum total for first grade work, as laid out in WTM, is three hours nine minutes, and the maximum total is four hours six minutes.

In practice, the suggested approach does not take, for many homeschoolers, as long as the guidelines say!

On average, children between the ages of five and twelve years are suggested to get ten to eleven hours of sleep. This leaves thirteen hours in a day. The suggested schoolwork, at maximum, would compromise 30% of a child's waking hours. This is hardly onerous. (By comparison, a child in my school district in first grade would be officially in school for six and a half hours per day, not including time spent there before the official start of day and time after dismissal, and travel time, which is 50% of a child's waking hours.)

For fifth grade, schoolwork does become an increasingly large portion of the child's day, taking (according to those pesky guidelines) between six hours and six hours forty minutes. Notice that this just now reaches that 50% mark that kids in elementary school have had since first grade!

In WTM: "It's still hard work. We don't deny it. We'll give you a clear view of the demands and requirements of this academic project. But a classical education is worth every drop of sweat – I can testify to that. I am constantly grateful to my mother for my education. It gave me an immeasurable head start, the independence to innovate and work on my own, confidence in my ability to compete in the job market, and the mental tools to build a satisfying career."

I think a large part of the objection to "too much work" has come from an interesting source. Millions, it seems, has been made in the last decade by writers and others decrying American children's overscheduled lives. Kids need time to play, to be outdoors, and time to simply be with themselves. I don't argue with that. I do argue with the idea that a preschooler with two or three outside the house activities is fundamentally the same as an eleven year old with two or three outside the house activities. In the rush not to overschedule children, anecdotes about four and six year olds that do four sports a year, that go from class to playdates to swim lessons to art – these stories are rampant.

I have a confession, here. According to the definition of overscheduling given in many resources, I was an overscheduled child. For example, when I was in third grade, I took piano lessons, I played softball, and I did ballet. I also participated in Girl Scouts. These are the activities that stand out from that year in retrospect; there may have been others. I don't remember feeling rushed or hurried. I had plenty of time to run around outside, to make up stories, to read for pleasure, and to spend time with my family. I even lived twenty-five minutes from my elementary school!

I think the overscheduling hype might just be exactly that – hype. I especially want to question its applicability to homeschooling families. I made a list of my daughter's obligations and what I would like for her to have time to do, including music practice, time with her siblings, time to read, and down time. I included a good amount of sleep, and an adequate amount of time for meals. In a twenty-four day, after all of those? There was a surplus of five hours. Granted, travel time to activities needs to be considered in that five hours, but travel time does not have to be wasted time. In the car, we do memory work, we listen to music for music appreciation, we sing, we talk, and, when the car sickness isn't too bad, reading takes place. It's not wasted time, and could be argued to substitute nicely for some of the other time involved.

Is it possible to do too much, or to overschedule, even as a homeschooler? Yes. Absolutely. What I am arguing, however, is that the saturation point is much higher than most assume it to be.

Finally, there’s the objection of being “too rigid.” I’m sure there are better defenses of rigidity, not to mention better refutations of the charge of being rigid. What comes to my mind, though, is a quote from Bones. The titular character is explaining why she likes free form jazz. “No, I love it. The artist has to live within a set tonal structure and trust his own instincts to find his way out of a infinite maze of musical possibilities, and the great ones do.” Sometimes, the rigidity of a system can set us free. By learning the basic facts and laws of math, a mathematician can create brilliant proofs; by learning grammar, the writer has a framework for creative output. This is true across disciplines.

Ultimately, the objections to hard work can be answered and shown not to be the problems they are thought to be. The perception remains with homeschooling, though, as it does in many institutional school settings, that learning should be fun. Edutainment, not education. Others mistake industry for work, and while appropriately shunning empty showings of industry, forget the value inherent in work. Whatever the reason, the homeschool community has begun to embrace the view that requiring hard academic work is not a positive thing – and I think it’s a foolishly negative turn of events.

The Constant Challenge: Challenge

The most common, most recurring challenge in our homeschool is challenge itself. There’s a sweet spot in which I want my kids to be working. Neither too easy, nor too hard, ideally they’d be always working just on the edge of their zone of competence, to borrow a term from a book I read recently.

If I err towards something that is easy, I risk boredom. In our house, boredom with schoolwork often results in dawdling, a poor attitude, and, somewhat paradoxically, taking too much time to complete assigned work.

If, on the other hand, I err towards something that is too challenging, I risk frustration. I risk tears, exclamations of an inability to complete the work, and possibly a cessation of all effort.

To complicate matters further, a tired, hungry, or thirsty child often looks similar to a child who is being asked to do something too challenging. On occasion, the tired child will look like the bored child.

I admit, even after all this time, I sometimes miss the signs of something being too easy. This time of year, it’s all too frequent that my kids are tired or working their immune systems hard to keep illness at bay. I know that EG usually takes a cognitive leap between mid-December and the end of February, and things that were just right only weeks previous become far too easy in a matter of days. I know this, and still I can miss it.

Of course, there is a time and a place for “boring” work. We must review math facts. We must continue to analyze the grammar of a sentence, no matter how many sentences we’ve analyzed previously. We must recite the poetry we’ve already memorized, lest we forget it. Books that seem easy need to be read, to increase speed and fluency. The problem comes when nearly everything begins to fall under the category of “easy” and “boring.”

I would argue there is even a place for the thing that is just slightly “too” challenging. To work at a problem or text, to grapple with it, and to emerge victorious – this, of course, is the stuff from which self-esteem is truly made. Still, that’s the place for a challenge problem at the end of a chapter of math, for instance. The bulk of a day’s work needs to hit that sweet spot, even as a small fraction of it is spent grappling, and another small fraction is spent on the “boring” and the review.

Hitting the sweet spot, of course, is not exactly easy. Even in one subject, it can be difficult, but multiply the problem across multiple children and multiple subject, and it’s no wonder I occasionally have dreams about magical new curricula, and more diligent children.

What do you do to hit the sweet spot with your child or children? How do you balance the need for all three types of material, albeit in varying proportions? And, let’s admit it – how often do you think “I coulda had a V8!” because you’ve been ignoring the evidence staring you in the face (again)?

Today was a lovely day of homeschooling, with regards to education, and I think that's instructive. So many components can go into a homeschool day, and the chances of getting all of the components to work in sync are, unfortunately, quite small.

What is a good day, educationally speaking? Today, it meant that EG completed her work within the assigned time parameters, with a good attitude, and did her work well. FB also completed his work with a good attitude and showed understanding. Both of them have time this afternoon or evening to work on science projects; EG is going to help FB with his, and later she'll work on her own. EG has a trumpet lesson this evening, and she's practiced for 20 minutes in preparation for that. She's also practiced piano and marked off a majority of the items on her "chore" checklist, which enumerates her responsibilities each day outside of the schoolroom.

A particular triumph today was that both children started a new poem for memory work yesterday, yet both were able to recite more than half of it by memory already this afternoon.



On the other hand, there's the "home" portion of homeschooling. There's also a toddler, but we'll get to her in a moment. I told Spousal Unit that today was pretty crappy, and when he asked what had happened, I simply said, "No. Literally." The cat left feces on the bed (she's mad at us about getting a dog), the dog had an accident in the living room, the toddler had an enormous diaper, and FB had a slight constipation issue (for the first time in a few months). There was, literally, a lot of crap in my day today. I forgot about a laundry in the washer (though I am thankful that my washer works - Heather, you have my sympathies, and I hope you found an adequate replacement today), and the table has a disturbing number of piles on it. Also, my internet at home went out most of the afternoon. Thank you, Mercury Retrograde. Not my finest "home" day.

Finally, of course, there's PC, who has been in a mood for several days (which also coincide with Mercury going retrograde, come to think of it). She's not sleeping well, which leads to a very grumpy girl. She's not explicitly in need of anything in particular, she's just plain grumpy.

To swing the pendulum back to the positive, I've read several good books in the last few days, and am reading another at present. I've read Teach Like Your Hair's On Fire, The Link, and Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, and am in the middle of Remarkable Creatures. I have more good books waiting.

Best of all, perhaps, is that tonight is Custard Night with my girls. <3

"A Host of Strange Skills"

My favorite portion of The Well-Trained Mind is this, from the Prologue:

I had a host of strange skills: I could diagram sentences; I could read Latin; I knew enough logic to tell whether an assertion was true or faulty.

A host of strange skills. I have always loved that phrasing. I do not know if it is an appropriate goal to have for one's offspring, but I admit: it is a goal I have for mine. I would love for each of them to say, "I have a host of strange skills, strange interests, and strange behaviors." By "strange," of course, I don't mean "undesirable," but rather "uncommon." Skills, interests, and behaviors that would be considered desirable, but not often found.

I actually think that perhaps I am doing well at meeting this goal. There have been several times lately that I see a glimpse of this.

For example, EG got some money for her birthday; $5 from my great-aunt on my father's side, and $10 from her maternal great-grandmother. The first thing she thought of when she got the $5 was taking her siblings to Bruster's for ice cream. So, on Saturday, that's what we did. Last night, she spent the remaining money on a toy for the new dog.

No, it's not horribly uncommon, but if I raise a child that thinks of others before herself, then I have succeeded where too many others have not, unfortunately.

Last week, a lovely eighteen year old of my acquaintance came by the house. While she was here, she was in EG's room. She saw a large book* sitting on EG's bedside table, and moved closer to discern the title. "Oh, poems," she said, "I wondered what kind of big book your mom was making you read."

"Oh, she's not making me read it," EG hastened to assure her. "It was a birthday present!" This was said without a hint of dismay or any suggestion that she was, in fact, forced to read it.

Said eighteen year old furrowed her brow, and made a comment about when parents give books as gifts, it's usually a hint. Her voice trailed off as she spoke, and one or another of us in the room changed the subject within a few seconds, natural in the course of conversation.

Clearly, this was not exactly "normal" behavior.

I know that we still have a long way to travel, and I of course have other goals, including those that are, shall we say, more quantifiable. Still, I hope I raise children with a veritable laundry list of strange skills, behaviors, and interests.


*The book in question is The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti.

My "In-Service" Week

I designated the week from Monday, July 19 through Sunday, July 25 as my "in-service" week. EG was at an all-day science camp, and FB attended a half-day sports camp, which meant I had a few quiet hours each day. I used the time to renew myself a bit and get ready for this upcoming year.

What did I do?

I listened to several talks on my iPhone. One was a new talk, a download about teaching Latin. The others were talks I had previously listened to, and I attempted to glean new insights and remember old ones. They were all from Susan Wise Bauer: Elementary Grades Plan for Teaching Writing, Middle Grades Plan for Teaching Writing, Teaching Students to Work Independently, and What Is Literary Analysis. That, then, was was one component of my "in-service."

I also read Lighting Their Fires, which I had seen recommended several times. It's a good read for all parents and all educators, but that makes it doubly important for parent-educators. ;) It's nothing earth-shattering, but it is concise, easy to read, and would be easy to pick up to focus on just one part. Along with that reading, I re-read some portions of The Well-Trained Mind, focusing only on those most pertinent to what subjects I would be teaching to what ages.

I did a few "housekeeping" tasks - copying all the cumulative quizzes from Caesar's English II, printing the first week's worth of drill, setting up the kids' memory work binders, and moving materials into the school area, which included setting up EG's new Desk Apprentice. The verdict on it is already one of excitement. I plan to get FB one, and myself two - one for knitting books & supplies, one for teacher books & supplies.

I did a bit of "reflection." I wrote out basic goals for the school year: eight objectives for FB, and eleven for EG. I also reflected on summer activities in which the kids had participated, looked ahead to next summer, and thought about the amount of work I require from the kids over the summer.

Two items were on my list to complete during "in-service" but I haven't yet completed them. I'm still working on developing our plan for memory work this year. I have lists, but I need to compile them and then arrange them in some sort of order within each subject. I also need to go over EG's planner with her. Since its calendar doesn't start until August 1, though, I realized we could go over different portions of it at leisure during this week.

I'm glad I did the "in-service" week, though I think that in the future, I'd like to be more deliberate in planning ahead for it (this was more or less planned a day ahead of time). Ideally, I'd like to plan two separate times, one for the planning and housekeeping, the other for my reading, listening, and reflecting. Finally, in the latter one, I'd like to reserve a longer portion of time at least one day of the week.

Maybe the last time, I don't know

We start school in the morning. I'm less prepared than I had anticipated. I lost steam around the beginning of June and never really found my motivation after that. I've managed passably well, though, and I've done most of the work that needs to be done. In a little while, the Spousal Unit is going to help me move a few more things into the school area so that we're set up for tomorrow. While we'll be accomplishing school and counting the days towards our required total, I'm viewing this week as a transitional week. EG's planner doesn't start until August, and this week and next, none of their school year activities will have begun.

Summer has felt both long and short. The only difficulty with ending our school year relatively early in May is that we have two to three weeks of "summer break" before it truly feels like summer. I'm contemplating, in the future, having us celebrate reaching 180 days, and then continue with at least some work throughout the remainder of May or until Memorial Day weekend. Then we'd go to our summer pattern: review math daily, read daily, and do something educational daily. The latter might include games, educational viewing, or typing practice, mind, so that's not exactly strenuous!

We love summer camps, though. EG attended resident camp for one week, as well as four weeks of day camp. FB attended four weeks of day camp as well. Next year, they'll be able to attend a few weeks of day camp together! I'm excited for them. I try to schedule it so that I have one week where I have time with just PC (which means that one day of that week, I get time just for ME!), and at least one week each where I have only PC & one older child (again, one day of that week, it's just me & EG or me & FB). I actually don't feel as strongly about having a week with just PC this coming year; she'll appreciate it more as she gets older, and right now, she just misses her siblings when they're gone!

My in-service week went relatively well, and I'll write about it sometime this week. I think tomorrow will go well. FB is really excited about "starting kindergarten," and EG is looking forward to the structure, I think. I'm looking forward to the structure a bit, myself.

Finally, I'm starting a new blogging project. If you're a structured homeschooler that would label yourself "evolutionary," and you think you might want to participate, comment and let me know. I am defining evolutionary as "homeschooling using nonsectarian and/or secular materials whenever possible; giving evolution its due."

End of the Year Musings

I'm so excited because, including today, we have nine more days of bookwork! We have fourteen days remaining until we hit 180, but five of those are educational field trips, so no bookwork then.

The best find this year was Michael Clay Thompson's language arts series. Around the time there began to be a lot of buzz about it, I was feeling frustrated with most of our language arts curriculum. We had just finished Writing Tales 2 and began Classical Writing Homer A. Homer was excruciating. It was taking a lot of time every day, yet it didn't feel like it was developing skills particularly quickly. EG didn't feel like she was learning anything new.

Similarly, I could see that she wasn't having good retention with our vocabulary program (Vocabulary from Classical Roots) or grammar (Junior Analytical Grammar). No matter how much I wanted each of these programs to work for us, and I did, the facts were staring me in the face - they just weren't working for EG!

I knew what curriculums did work well for her, so I had a good idea of the type of curriculum for which I was looking. Luckily, along came all those discussions about MCT. Looking at the discussions and the samples, I realized that it just might be a good fit - and I was, thankfully, right.

What about Classical Writing? After all, it wasn't that she wasn't learning. It was just going painfully slowly. Yet, I wanted the progym for EG...

Around the same time, I listened to SWB's writing lectures on mp3 - each individual one for the three stages. I also reread WTM for the billionth time. After reading, listening, digesting, and ruminating, I felt confident enough to stop Classical Writing and move forward "WTM-style." We'll get to the progym, around 8th or 9th grade. She'll be able to move faster through it (something that we'll appreciate) and have the time now to do more cross-curricular writing and other important things. It was a balance with which I felt (and still feel) comfortable.

So that's our best curriculum find of the year. :)

It's Just the Same Old Song

When my parents decided to send me to a private school, they were told multiple times by some of their acquaintances that they were doing a horrible thing. The local public schools, they were told, needed me as a student, and needed my parents as involved parents. The local schools would benefit so much from our presence! How could my parents choose to spend so much money on their own child, and not try to enhance the community school?

Nowhere in their reasons, of course, was mention made of how going to the local public school would benefit me. I was a typically nerdy child, if one can say there is a typically nerdy five year old. I asked my preschool teacher (we didn't call it "pre-kindergarten" or "pre-K" back then) for homework. I read early. I memorized the states & capitals at age four because I wanted to do so. I also memorized "The Star-Spangled Banner." I could tell time on an analog clock. I had a whole host of strange behaviors and even the most dedicated defendant of the public schools never tried to suggest I should attend them because of what the local school could offer me.

So, you see, it's no surprise to me to read an article detailing why gifted children shouldn't be homeschooled. The article is a list of how the public schools lose out when gifted children are homeschooled. That's it. The community loses. The school loses. There's no argument that the child loses by being homeschooled, though, and I suspect that's because the author is intellectually honest enough not to argue that!

So I wish I could say that this article is surprising to me, but it's not. I wish I could say that the sentiments that attacked my parents were less common or less voiced, but they are not. For whatever reason, in a country that subscribes to an ideal of individualism, when it comes to gifted children and their education, we're suddenly supposed to idealize Spock, and let the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or one.

Honesty: The Best Policy?

I have a general philosophy regarding public blogging about homeschooling. I don't want to be fake, but neither do I want to post things that would give nay-sayers an example at which to point. I have less publicly available venues where I can truly vent when necessary. Lately, though, things have overall been doing well... and I post the truth of that. Normally this doesn't seem to be an issue, except when it comes to the Weekly Report.

Specifically, when I post a link to my Weekly Report on the appropriate thread over at the WTM boards. Almost every week, I get a comment to the effect of "Wow, that's a ton accomplished," or "I can't imagine such a busy week." Now, for me, to be honest - yes, our weeks are overall "busy," but it's not because my children are little slaves that I stand over with a whip, making them produce schoolwork day and night. This consistent response makes me worry that I'm coming across either as "holier than thou" with regard to schoolwork, or, alternatively, that people must think I'm an ogre with the aforementioned whip. Neither of which is particularly true.

Still, in the end, I'm blogging more or less for myself. I am required by state law to write an annual summary or report; I want to remember things that have happened in various weeks; I'm more likely to blog than I am to pull out a pen-and-paper journal. Ultimately, of course, I don't really care what faceless internet strangers think of me, though of course it's nice when they like me and become not-so-faceless and not such strangers. (I won't ask them to be less strange.)

I have seen calls in the past for homeschooling parents to be "more real." The idea is that too many of us, apparently, place a nice veneer over what we share, and as a result, each of thinks we're the only one that struggles with X. It may be true that we need to be more real with one another, but I don't think public internet postings are the right venue for that "realism."

Besides, do you really want your children reading what you said about them in another six years or so, if you're too real? :)

I Did That!

Every homeschooling parent needs a hobby.

Oh, everyone can enjoy hobbies, but it's my firm belief that homeschooling parents, especially, need a hobby that produces something tangible.

We work hard daily, and there are intermediate steps along the way - a child completing a math book, lesson plans organized for a new unit, another year finished. The end result, though, is years away, and in some ways, there is no true end. Any stay-at-home parent may bemoan how everything they do is undone within days or even hours, a feeling aptly described in the old saying, "A man may work from sun to sun, but woman's work is never done."

I think the human mind needs to see evidence of accomplishment. There's an impulse to point and say "Look! I did that!" Homeschooling will afford us that opportunity... by the time we hit age 50 or 60.

So, then, a hobby. For me personally, I've finally come back to knitting. If I knew someone who did a lot of woodworking, I might've gone that direction, but both knitting and woodworking were things I enjoyed even as a child. Knitting won in the end because of portability issues and also the fact I found someone who knew enough about knitting that if I got into a tough spot, I wouldn't have to frog the whole thing. I could get help!

Knowing that you have a source of help available empowers you to take chances that you might otherwise take, too. I've attempted to pick up knitting as an adult previously, but reached a point where I was stymied and afraid of putting in the effort only to run into roadblocks. For me personally, knowing Smrt Mama could help me pick up a dropped stitch made me confident enough to try new things.

I've had a small, relatively steady trickle of items off my needles in the last six to twelve months. A hat for each kid, thumbless mittens for PC, thumbed mittens for FB (this was significant!), a hippie head-kerchief for EG, a scarf for FB, and I've just cast on for (gulp!) a sweater for PC. It's calming when I sit and knit in the mornings, keeps my hands busy when I watch TV, and helps me feel like waiting in the car at Master's Academy or vision therapy or piano lessons or band isn't quite such a waste of time.

It doesn't have to be knitting, of course; anything that produces a tangible product will suffice. Because some days, it's good to look at something finished and complete and go, "Hey! I made that!"

Faux Book Review

Each month, as part of my 101 in 1001 list, I make the effort to re-read a book I own that I have already read. I originally added this requirement because it was too easy for me to keep books "just in case" I needed to refer to them, or wanted to re-read them, and then never do so. This effort to be conscious of the books I already own has been helpful over the years (I originally did it for 12 months during my first 101 in 1001 list).

This month, I have been re-reading Hold On to Your Kids (Neufeld & Mate). It's oft-recommended, and I've enjoyed it each time I read it. It's a sign of a good book, I feel, when the reader can glean something new from the book each time it's read. Hold On to Your Kids passes that test, for me.

I should also add that while the authors state that homeschooling is not the answer for everyone, and have an attitude of "there's no help for sending your children to school for hours a day, you just have to do it in today's world," it's also a fantastic endorsement of some of the less tangible benefits of homeschooling. Read between the lines. :)

One chapter discusses how to avoid peer attachment, and two sections of that chapter particularly stood out to me upon re-reading.
• "Peers are not the answer to 'eccentricity.'"
• "Peers are no substitutes for siblings."

With regard to the first point, the authors discuss the obsessions in American society with "being 'normal' and fitting in," and how "individuality and eccentricity are out of favor." They go on to discuss the value of adult attachment for children to unfold into their own unique selves, and how peers are quick to discourage individuality. When Rachel on Glee is described as "looking like a homeschooler," I think homeschooling parents and their children should see an inherent compliment. Rachel's self-assured enough to dress as she pleases. The "strangeness" that is attributed to homeschoolers may in fact, according to Gabor and Mate, be an outgrowth of properly functioning adult attachments! That's something to celebrate.

The portion about peers being no substitute for siblings stood out for many reasons. I am an only child. The sibling-substitutes recommended by the authors are cousins; my only cousin is ten years old. On a personal level, I find it intriguing. I never felt the lack of siblings, per se, and I would say I was less peer-oriented than many of my cohort. I will also admit that I find it gratifying when my children "herd" together, lost in their sibling relationships. I didn't feel that sibling relationships presented the same issues as peer attachment, and it's encouraging to read the authors' explication of how sibling attachments are far more healthy and less likely to become primary attachments that supercede the parental/adult attachments.

This is one of those books that's helpful for me to re-read every two years or so. It's a helpful reminder of why we do what we do around these parts.

You Mean One Day I Won't Have to Make the Decisions?

A few months ago, EG and I had a fairly in-depth conversation about what she wanted to study next year and in the years following, all the way through high school, with regards to science. We discussed Advanced Placement courses, possible summer programs, the chance of finding a professor locally with whom she could do research, once she's in high school, the importance of a high level of comfort and enjoyment of math in order to do upper-level science - the whole nine yards. I have a few small things that I require, and we added those into the mix.

And here, then, is where we wade into somewhat uncharted territory. There's no reason that she can't do what it is she'd like to do, but I don't see many examples of it. Further, the assumption in most circles seems to be that a child who is capable of high school work before high school age should graduate from high school early. That's not our philosophy. EG will graduate from high school in the spring of 2018, just as she would have had we sent her down the street to school back in August 2005. Her high school education will not look the same as it would have in that scenario. She'll go both wider and deeper. I don't know which books she'll read for high school, or what electives she might choose. I do have an inkling of how she'd like the science portion of her transcript to read, though.

Luckily for her, her math skills are more than adequate to meet the pace she wants. It's common knowledge that math begins to be a prerequisite or co-requisite at higher levels of science, which can in fact hold some students back from the acceleration that they desire.

Science is EG's main area of interest, at this point, at least in terms of thinking about potential courses and direction. Charting a course with her input is a slightly new direction for me. I've become so used to making the necessary decisions for her education without any other input. Yes, occasionally my mother or the Spousal Unit will give his or her two cents' worth, and occasionally I've even asked for outside input. In the end, though, I've always been the final arbiter, and this - this represents a departure. I know it's a necessary one, but I'm thankful, I think, that she's ready to begin with one subject, so we can navigate the transition slowly, one area at a time. Not that she couldn't handle it otherwise; I'm just not sure how I would.

Bragging Rights

Even if I weren't aware of the school buses making their rounds early, the flashing lights exhorting me to slow down at 12:20 instead of 2:20, and the signs on every school marquee, I would still know when my county schools were having parent-teacher conferences. All I'd need to do is to view Facebook.

Parents are, understandably, quick to share that their child's teacher has given them a good report. In some cases, considerable detail may be shared, down to each child's reading level and how that compares to the child's grade level. Since this is all coming from an outside authority, the information is usually met with enthusiastic comments.

I can't help but feel like the reaction would be slightly different if I were to post such details of my children's accomplishments and achievements. To be fair, I doubt I would post as much information as some, even if my children weren't homeschooled. It's simply not my way. At the same time, though, I don't know that even information from an outside source (standardized test results, for instance) would be viewed in the same way that they would were I not the teacher and the parent.

Compounding the problem is our society's tendency to celebrate "everything but" the academic. Tops at a sport? Best at an instrument? Starring in the play? These are all acceptable accolades. Top scores on the SAT? Expect a polite "good job!" and a look that conveys the meaning all too well - we're just not supposed to talk about that.

And I was raised in that society, too, and it's ingrained in me. The problem comes when you have a child (or children) who lends him- or herself (or themselves) to the type of pithy anecdote that makes a great status update on Facebook or a wonderful 140-character tweet. Why is this a problem? Well, it's only a problem if you have an additional child or children who doesn't; a child or children who would be the one with the excellent SAT score or the amazing history project.

Perhaps I'm merely too reticent about accomplishments in general, but it is ingrained in me. Sharing these things goes too close to bragging, and that, nearly above all else, is to be avoided. Still, I can't help but feel like it's important for kids to hear and read some "bragging," some positive outside evaluation (wherein "outside" is "anyone who is not the child"). Or is it better, setting them up to be intrinsically motivated, without extrinsic motivation, in a way that I could never be?

I don't know.

All These Things That I Have Done...

While my children are 4.5 years and 3.5 years apart, I did not manage to space them quite correctly for following the four-year history rotation as set forth in The Well-Trained Mind. I did, however, manage to come relatively close. As EG begins fifth grade, FB will begin kindergarten. When FB begins fifth grade, PC will begin first grade, although she will be nearly seven already. Beyond the potential advantages for the history cycle, though, my children are spaced such that I have time to look back and really ponder on the should have, would have, could have. EG ends "grammar stage," just as FB begins to gear up for it, and so forth.

With that in mind, what I wish I had done differently, and a little bit about why.

01. Poetry Memory Work I wish we had been more deliberate about memory work in general, but there's a delight in a small child when she or he finishes memorizing a poem, especially when the poem is more than one stanza. It's not that EG hasn't memorized poems this year (and a few last year), and it's not that she doesn't enjoy it still. It's simply that it's one thing that is low on investment, in terms of time and energy, but large in the payoff.

02. Grammar Memory Work Similar to the above, it takes little effort to memorize, for instance, pronouns (FB can recite demonstrative pronouns just because he's heard EG saying them daily for over a month), but again, a large payoff.

03. History Memory Work Honestly, there aren't that many things about some parts of history to memorize. Does a child really need to memorize the pharaohs? Unless the child is going to be an Egyptologist, probably not. There are some worthwhile speeches and documents worth memorizing though, and poetry about history, as well. We weren't deliberate in this area until later, either.

04. More consistent science at an earlier age To be clear, I'm not saying I wish we had used a formal program. I think WTM-style science or even something less formal is perfectly adequate and perhaps better than a formal program. I wish I had bought science kits earlier, though, and, as I say, more consistently. Grammar-stage science doesn't have to be rigorous or thorough, even for the most science-minded, gifted child. It does need to be present and periodic.

05. Wait on Latin until 3rd grade Pretty much what it says on the box. I will probably pick 50-100 words & chants for FB to memorize during second grade, just to ease the transition, but otherwise, I think the payoff is not large enough for the time expended.

06. More narrations I think I was afraid that narrations would somehow take the joy out of reading. I failed to remember that a narration doesn't necessarily have to be formal or written, either one. Yes, in retrospect, we should have done a few more of those formal, written narrations, too, but you can be sure I will not hesitate to ask FB "What was the most interesting thing you learned in this book?" when we read non-fiction, and "Can you tell me/Daddy/EG/PC about the story we just read?" when it's literature.

07. Less worry about 'perfect' This is an issue in basically every area of my life, to be honest. I have to guard against letting the perfect become the enemy of the good.

08. More art, both appreciation and skills So, art. The biggest gap in my otherwise fairly excellent education was art appreciation. I have very little art history. I can remember a few units which were designed to teach us about an artist or school, and then we were to create a project in that style. As a result, I remember a lot about Matisse and cannot tell you in which century Degas lived. Since I knew nothing about it, I threw a figurative blanket in my head, put my fingers in my ears, and sang "la la la, I can't hear you," in the general direction of art history & appreciation. Needless to say, this is not the best approach one can take. Similarly, I do not possess oodles and oodles of artistic talent. Since I was pigeon-holed early on as an academic type, there was rarely any effort to encourage any artistic leanings I might have had. I was an adult before I even realized I had a decent aesthetic sense. This doesn't encourage one to take the initiative in teaching art skills. So I packed EG off to Master's Academy. While I think this still does fill an important role, I wish I had at least incorporate some art into history, and taught her some basic drawing, things I plan to do with FB and PC.

09. Piano lessons in 2nd grade, or 3rd grade at the latest For various reasons, it's worked all right for EG not to have started piano until 4th grade, but ideally, I'd like the kids to be finished with their mandatory two years of piano lessons by no later than the end of fourth grade. I think it's good to have piano experience before choosing any other kind of instrument, and I think learning the basic theory is important, and I can see numerous advantages to learning this "grammar" during the grammar stage.

10. More music appreciation I had a little more music appreciation in my own education, though a good portion of that was the history of rock 'n' roll. Additionally, music appreciation seemed so intimidating, with a need for millions of CDs, spilling over. It was one of those subjects where perfect became the enemy of the good. Luckily, we've also discovered the podcast Classics for Kids, which makes grammar-stage music appreciation that much easier.

11. Less supplemental books for history We love SOTW. We love the activity guides. I also love looking at books in various homeschooling catalogs, and reading posts on message boards about great supplemental books. The result can be too many books. When planning SOTW 1 for FB, I've tried to keep the supplemental books to an average of one per chapter. In some cases, this may still be too much, but it's a start. It's no good to feel overwhelmed with a number of books, even if they are picture books, that you feel you must read before beginning the next chapter.

12. Less dependence on the library In the beginning, I thought I would save money by checking books out from the library. The result of this, combined with the problem of too many supplemental books, was annoying trips back and forth to the library and a growing amount of fines. Yes, I have tentative plans to use the library more next year than we have this year, but I'm trying to be judicious. Not every library book is always available, and the library should never become a burden.

13. Less worry about socialization For a time, I worried a lot about her socialization. I knew very few people with children her age, at the time, and I worried a lot about her being exposed only to children who were younger than her. I've since learned that one seeming solution, having her in a Girl Scout troop with girls who are in a variety of school settings, doesn't really work out that well in the end. For other reasons, too, I should have just worried less. Kids don't need groups of friends. That's a modern affectation.

14. More time outdoors I don't think it's really possible to have too much time outdoors, you know? Enough said.

15. Learn to swim earlier Poor guinea pig EG. In one of my efforts to shore up our relationship with Spousal Unit's relatives, she used to spend the day, from time to time, with the older of Spousal Unit's sisters, who lives in the same metro area as we do. On one of those excursions, said sister-in-law took it upon herself to take EG swimming and try to teach her to swim. She wasn't quite three at the time, and we spent years undoing her resulting fear in the pool. We probably should have kept slowly coaxing her rather than stopping most efforts for a year or two before resuming them in the summer of 2008. She can swim just fine now, but I want the younger ones swimming well by six or seven.

16. Learn to ride a bike earlier Part of this was lack of opportunity for EG, and part of it was other issues, which will be detailed somewhat below. Still, we had the tendency not to push her to do things, and some things? Kids needs a little push and encouragement.

17. Worried about the issues of spelling & hand-eye coordination earlier This doesn't apply to every child, but EG was wildly asynchronous with regard to certain aspects of development. Of course, I read enough that said "gifted kids are asynchronous!" that I pushed it from my mind most of the time. There's a difference, though, between "asynchronous" and "working well above grade level except with handwriting and spelling," especially when the latter is combined with hand-eye coordination issues, difficulty riding a bicycle, and other issues. Also, her handwriting and spelling weren't merely "on grade level," but below grade level. Finally, I realized something had to be done, that despite all of our best efforts, there was something still missing. So we had her evaluated by a developmental optometrist and she's doing vision therapy. There's definitely a difference already. Do I wish I'd had her evaluated sooner? Absolutely. Will I hesitate to push with the others, even when my concerns are dismissed by some? No.

As with anything, your mileage may vary. I'll try to post about the things I'm glad we did within a week or two, because there are many of those, too.

Book Review: Don't Be Such A Scientist.

You know there's something a little different about a book whose subjects on the back are listed as "Communication/Science/Film." Don't Be Such A Scientist could easily be viewed as a companion book to Unscientific America, since they describe different facets of the same problem. That problem is, namely, the vast disconnect between "science" and the "general public," especially on key issues such as evolution and global warming.

Randy Olson offers four prescriptive statements of what not to do: don't be so cerebral; don't be so literal minded; don't be such a poor storyteller; and don't be so unlikeable. He intersperses his suggestions with amusing anecdotes from his times as a Ph.D.-turned-film-student. It's amusing, makes good points, and is a quick read.

While he states that his audience is scientists, students, and the interested general public, I feel like the target audience is high school students and undergraduates. In fact, I think it is a perfect book to hand to a high school student who is interested in science - trying to get things right from the beginning, essentially, rather than trying to close the barn door after the horse has already escaped. And as a book for high school students or undergraduates, it hits all the right notes.

The final chapter is titled "Be the Voice of Science!" I must admit that I expected some sort of Plan, or at least some Suggestions. Instead, he mostly discusses that there is no template, and that each scientist must develop his or her own voice. Well - of course that's true. Some general discussion would have been helpful, though, along the lines of "here are some important things to know or note," or "here are a few ideas about skills that may be good to develop." I'm coming at this both as someone with scientific training (though no actual desire to work as a scientist), as well as the homeschooling parent of at least one child who will probably end up in a scientific field. (EG decided earlier this week she'd like to go to Cal Tech. Because "that kind of stuff is easy." Right-o.) What can I be doing to facilitate a well-rounded scientist?

I've told the Spousal Unit several times that I think being a well-rounded student takes more time when your area of specialty is math and science than the humanities or the arts. Not because math or science are inherently more time-consuming, but the level of knowledge which one needs of the humanities and the arts in order to be well-educated is so much higher than the amount of math or science necessary to be well-educated. A well-educated writer can take just three years of high school mathematics. A well-educated mathematician needs four years of literature study in high school, a good grasp on history, and an appreciation of aesthetics, in addition to whatever higher-level mathematics s/he is studying.

What I find myself wanting now is a discussion between a number of intelligent people about what things they personally would suggest. I think there would be some overlap, which would certainly indicate promising ideas, but I also think the atmosphere of discussion would yield new, maybe slightly off-the-wall ideas.

Kilroy Was Here

Because I have many things on my mind, but none of them quite a full post, I present one of my favorite things in the entire world. Bullet points.

• There's been a lot - a lot - of discussion lately on the WTM boards about giftedness. One takeaway message has been "if your child is gifted, you'll just know it." Without getting into too much detail, I don't think that's true. For various reasons, my peers have always been highly intelligent people. I think there were one or two people in elementary school that could be said to possess average intelligence, but I don't remember much about elementary school. I graduated from high school with 98 other girls, all of them highly intelligent and yes, dare I say it, all of them at least moderately gifted. I firmly believe this. I followed that up with a university experience where, again, "normal" was well above average. When someone stands out in groups like these, you know they're scary-smart. All of that said, my yardstick is different. No, I don't know what is and is not normal. I know what gifted looks like. To me, gifted is normal. Sometimes you don't just know. That's all I have to say on that matter.

• I've figured out the solution to each of my previous dilemmas. We'll finish the All About Spelling series with EG, but then concentrate on application in writing; FB is going to start in the Spelling Workout series, because I don't think I can add another teacher intensive subject unless it's vitally necessary; and although I really like BFSU (or what I've read so far; I haven't finished it yet), I don't think I'll be using it with FB. As I stated in the previous post, I think it might just be the ticket for PC, since she's effectively going to have two years of pre-K before her official K year, thanks to that November birthday.

• Since I've resolved those issues, I naturally have turned my mind to another: revisiting the question of choosing a modern foreign language for EG to study. I still have it narrowed to Chinese or German, but I'm torn between the two. I can see a real value and utility in each. Our resources locally for studying each are approximately the same. My mind is locked in a stalemate between the two.

• I've made real progress on my list of things to do by 1 July. I'm not ready to actually strike any of them completed, but I feel like things are a bit more under control. I need to add five new books to the art appreciation plans, but they are typed. The music appreciation plans are in a good second version. I'm 98% sure I've finalized the kindergarten supplemental history books. I tried very hard to break the AoPS texts into daily chunks. And I've got a good preliminary list for science reading!

• I purchased the last of the actual curricula for 2010-2011 last week and it should all be here by tomorrow. I specified curricula because, of course, there are still plenty of books to be purchased, as well as music for music appreciation. What actual curricula is there? I purchased The Complete Writer: Writing With Ease Workbook 1, The Story of the World, Volume 1: Ancient Times and the pdf activity book, RightStart's A to B Add-On kit, My Printing Book and Spelling Workout A for FB. EG's curricula for next year are MCT LA Level 3 (Voyage level), Life of Fred: Advanced Algebra and the corresponding Home Companion, Art of Problem Solving's Introduction to Counting & Probability as well as Introduction to Number Theory, and Galore Park's Latin Prep 1. The rest of her stuff is either real books or online endeavors.
So far, I'm really excited by the Latin Prep books, especially. Essay Voyage looks intimidating from a "how do I break this down into daily lessons?" viewpoint, but the material looks great.

• I've made a renewed commitment to my own oft-neglected bedtime, which includes actually rising with my alarm. Let me tell you, my body is not too sure about this plan. I've had more time to read, though, and I am far more productive between 7:30 & 11:30 am than I am 7:30 & 11:30 pm. I have a strong feeling that I've been working on a significant sleep deficit, though, so the more I'm careful to go to bed by 11 pm & get up at 7 am with the alarm, the more I want to go to bed even earlier! Maybe I'll be all caught up in a week or two.