This post is a type of reminder to myself: that the children are young for such a short time, and I will most likely look back on these days as being among the most blissful of our lives.
Lately I have been tired. I've had a run of viral illnesses, mostly minor with one a bit more serious. Through work schedules, either my husband or I are away from home for five out of six weeks (this is very unusual - more often one of us is away for about a week a month). One or two things have been frustrating me, but at the same time I recognise that I am more easily irritated when I feel tired and worn out. And there have been times when I have wished my children were a little older and more independent - particularly when I am trying to teach the three boys and each of them is clamouring for my attention at once. I find myself longing for the day when I can assign them a task, knowing they have the attention and perseverance to work through it with little adult input.
But then I need to take a step back and enjoy the moment. I wrote about this recently. Yesterday, we enjoyed walking to basketball - a dusty hour-long walk under the midday African sun, providing many opportunities to talk through all kinds of things that we'd been reading about, or things that were on their minds. On a few occasions, we talked about attitude, and what the Bible says about speech, and what we can do about it (with God's help) and I was reminded of Deuteronomy Chapter 6 - these are they days of sitting together to eat, of walking along the road, of frequent conversations about God's goodness. These are the foundational years, when their worldview is forming and they are starting to understand that the world is not just a glorious, amazing adventure, but is also punctuated by hardship, suffering and pain. These are the moments when a childlike question could be easily brushed aside by a tired and irritable parent, but which reflects the searching of their young soul for eternal answers.
Today, they have made planes out of left over pieces of cardboard, the insides of toilet rolls and various other packets and things they have been saving for such activities. It is amazing to step back and observe their development, and particularly their team work in making sure the youngest is able to create something also. As well as the creative and fine motor skills I observe, I note their kindness to one another (most of the time) and their ways of negotiating to obtain the items they want most. And again, I am reminded that these times are a great benefit of homeschooling - having time to play, to create, to explore, to design and to share.
I write these things partly because I've worried lately about doing 'enough'. I gather, from reading home schooling blogs, that 'enough' is one of the temptations of a homeschooling parent! How would one define 'enough'? One of the reasons we chose homeschooling was to embrace their natural love of learning and desire to explore the world around them, and to give them time to be children and enjoy a simple childhood which contrasts with so much of the modern world around us. And yet at the same time, I am tempted to compare, to worry, to feel that we need to be achieving X, Y and Z every day or we are somehow exposing our children to risk. When I say 'enough', perhaps I don't mean in terms of what the children do, since they are making good progress in all areas, but maybe in terms of myself - I think I should be more dynamic, more creative, more full of interesting and exciting ideas for projects. But then, when I step back and give them space to play, I find that many of their games relate to the history and world cultures we have been studying. Their building (shelters, fireplaces, other things that boys build out of sticks and stones in the garden) uses some of the mathematical concepts they have been working on, and often they will then write about these things in letters home. I love our curriculum, but sometimes I need to step back from it a bit, and allow a more 'natural approach'.
One way I have addressed this overlaps with the concept of 'stealth attacks' as proposed by Julie Hogart at Brave Writer. I read ahead, see what concept or task I am meant to cover, and then find away of bringing it in without the child realising they are doing 'school'. An example might be my son who is currently on LA3 from Sonlight. He is using the Diamond Notes to learn about paragraph structure. Sometimes the assigned tasks seem a bit artificial, but if I encourage him to write a letter to a grandparent about a recent hike, or his latest pet (an insect or a lizard usually), or something he has cooked, then he can flesh out a paragraph with relative ease. The Singapore Maths home instructor guide has some nice ideas for games to help them learn their number facts, and changing venue, or using chalk to draw out on the tiles in the back yard can bring variety and an element of fun (and the questioning minds of the boys, 'What is mummy doing now??'
Another thing that is helpful when feeling tired and maybe a bit overwhelmed is to consider again the core reasons for choosing home education (I wrote a list of some of these five years ago now). For many of us, these are far broader than pure academics. Sometimes we can be so busy looking at the current 'challenge' or concern, and not take time to reflect on the progress which has been made by each child, and in particular in relation to worldview and character formation. I need to stop and remember these things, particularly when we are often told by friends and relatives that, 'So and so is doing marvellously at school'. (Interestingly, I have never had a friend or relative that is not doing 'marvellously' at school....) I also need to remember that the people who are constantly posting pictures of beautiful craft and science projects on Facebook groups tend to be the exception, and that such creative activities are not essential for well-rounded learning.
Today, I am choosing to 'Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, with prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving' to bring my concerns to God. (Philippians 4:6). I am choosing not to be discouraged by comparing my children to others. I am choosing to celebrate each day as a God-given opportunity. I choose to rejoice in having a curriculum which means very little lesson planning - a great blessing when I have been tired and a bit unwell. And I choose to celebrate these peaceful moments of childhood, recognising that the time will come all to soon that the children do not want to tell me every little thing, all the time.
Lately I have been tired. I've had a run of viral illnesses, mostly minor with one a bit more serious. Through work schedules, either my husband or I are away from home for five out of six weeks (this is very unusual - more often one of us is away for about a week a month). One or two things have been frustrating me, but at the same time I recognise that I am more easily irritated when I feel tired and worn out. And there have been times when I have wished my children were a little older and more independent - particularly when I am trying to teach the three boys and each of them is clamouring for my attention at once. I find myself longing for the day when I can assign them a task, knowing they have the attention and perseverance to work through it with little adult input.
But then I need to take a step back and enjoy the moment. I wrote about this recently. Yesterday, we enjoyed walking to basketball - a dusty hour-long walk under the midday African sun, providing many opportunities to talk through all kinds of things that we'd been reading about, or things that were on their minds. On a few occasions, we talked about attitude, and what the Bible says about speech, and what we can do about it (with God's help) and I was reminded of Deuteronomy Chapter 6 - these are they days of sitting together to eat, of walking along the road, of frequent conversations about God's goodness. These are the foundational years, when their worldview is forming and they are starting to understand that the world is not just a glorious, amazing adventure, but is also punctuated by hardship, suffering and pain. These are the moments when a childlike question could be easily brushed aside by a tired and irritable parent, but which reflects the searching of their young soul for eternal answers.
Today, they have made planes out of left over pieces of cardboard, the insides of toilet rolls and various other packets and things they have been saving for such activities. It is amazing to step back and observe their development, and particularly their team work in making sure the youngest is able to create something also. As well as the creative and fine motor skills I observe, I note their kindness to one another (most of the time) and their ways of negotiating to obtain the items they want most. And again, I am reminded that these times are a great benefit of homeschooling - having time to play, to create, to explore, to design and to share.
I write these things partly because I've worried lately about doing 'enough'. I gather, from reading home schooling blogs, that 'enough' is one of the temptations of a homeschooling parent! How would one define 'enough'? One of the reasons we chose homeschooling was to embrace their natural love of learning and desire to explore the world around them, and to give them time to be children and enjoy a simple childhood which contrasts with so much of the modern world around us. And yet at the same time, I am tempted to compare, to worry, to feel that we need to be achieving X, Y and Z every day or we are somehow exposing our children to risk. When I say 'enough', perhaps I don't mean in terms of what the children do, since they are making good progress in all areas, but maybe in terms of myself - I think I should be more dynamic, more creative, more full of interesting and exciting ideas for projects. But then, when I step back and give them space to play, I find that many of their games relate to the history and world cultures we have been studying. Their building (shelters, fireplaces, other things that boys build out of sticks and stones in the garden) uses some of the mathematical concepts they have been working on, and often they will then write about these things in letters home. I love our curriculum, but sometimes I need to step back from it a bit, and allow a more 'natural approach'.
One way I have addressed this overlaps with the concept of 'stealth attacks' as proposed by Julie Hogart at Brave Writer. I read ahead, see what concept or task I am meant to cover, and then find away of bringing it in without the child realising they are doing 'school'. An example might be my son who is currently on LA3 from Sonlight. He is using the Diamond Notes to learn about paragraph structure. Sometimes the assigned tasks seem a bit artificial, but if I encourage him to write a letter to a grandparent about a recent hike, or his latest pet (an insect or a lizard usually), or something he has cooked, then he can flesh out a paragraph with relative ease. The Singapore Maths home instructor guide has some nice ideas for games to help them learn their number facts, and changing venue, or using chalk to draw out on the tiles in the back yard can bring variety and an element of fun (and the questioning minds of the boys, 'What is mummy doing now??'
Another thing that is helpful when feeling tired and maybe a bit overwhelmed is to consider again the core reasons for choosing home education (I wrote a list of some of these five years ago now). For many of us, these are far broader than pure academics. Sometimes we can be so busy looking at the current 'challenge' or concern, and not take time to reflect on the progress which has been made by each child, and in particular in relation to worldview and character formation. I need to stop and remember these things, particularly when we are often told by friends and relatives that, 'So and so is doing marvellously at school'. (Interestingly, I have never had a friend or relative that is not doing 'marvellously' at school....) I also need to remember that the people who are constantly posting pictures of beautiful craft and science projects on Facebook groups tend to be the exception, and that such creative activities are not essential for well-rounded learning.
Today, I am choosing to 'Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, with prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving' to bring my concerns to God. (Philippians 4:6). I am choosing not to be discouraged by comparing my children to others. I am choosing to celebrate each day as a God-given opportunity. I choose to rejoice in having a curriculum which means very little lesson planning - a great blessing when I have been tired and a bit unwell. And I choose to celebrate these peaceful moments of childhood, recognising that the time will come all to soon that the children do not want to tell me every little thing, all the time.
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