gratitude day three: sweetness.

Today I am so, so grateful that my Sunday morning began in the soft and quiet.

I got to just stand around in my backyard - mostly feeling the still, and listening to the birds singing.  I'm certain they were singing extra sweetly just for me.

In my wander I discovered another sweetness - a tiny rolled phlox flower - wound today, but ready to rise and burst tomorrow.

In these things I found comfort in the beauty and the plain living.
In these things were the reminder that Life (being living and love) is enough.
That there is no need to hurry -- to hurry the process.  To hurry the excitement.  To hurry the living.

Life explodes sometimes, it's true, and I wouldn't have it any other way -  I love those days!

But I am so thankful that I am comfortable enough with this life - and this skin - that I also embrace the still, and the soft, and know that there is nothing to fear...
and nothing to be proved.

Certainly, being in Peace is a fine thing for which to be grateful.

Juice and Worries

So I scooted off to the store this morning to get a couple of book cases.
My philosophy is that if it's in cupboards and storage boxes we don't see it, and therefore can't be Juiced (inspired) by it.
So our materials (art, science, crafts, and obviously books, etc) are on shelves.
Often in little plastic cubbies. And they get rotated through different areas of the house and bedrooms.

So.
Back to the Rumpus Room.
It's been a disaster for months.
Since about the time I decided I needed the shelves for upstairs... as an extension/shelf area of our kitchen table magic.
You know... science projects, ongoing craft projects, stuff we've been diggin' lately, etc. Things that we don't want looming on the end of the kitchen counter for weeks at a time.
So I dumped off one case full of musical instruments, and another one with dress-up things, puppets, and all the paraphernalia that go in that particular imagination station.
So... the room got messy.
Chaotic and crazy and a dumping ground through the holidays, etc, etc.
(The room is in the basement, and we never spend that much time down there, anyway.)

But...
The last little while I've been feeling the need for Juice.
Things seem a little stagnant-- certainly not particularly sparkly.
Always, when we clean and re-organize and shuffle things around, we get totally jazzed.
It's like we're seeing things for the first time-- or at least the first in a loooooong time. (Which, admittedly, is sometimes the literal truth.)

Today as I was cleaning Maddie was super eager be down there with me, and was so excited!!
She built with a wooden carpenter set, played Ned's Head, played with stickers, made lots of different music, did different puzzles (that are not currently residing in the livingroom cabinet), all kinds of things!
She was exploring and discovering and creating and having a wonderful time.

As I watched her, I started getting a little worried.
I was reminded that while this room and its materials is a paradise for a little one, we have another whom is quickly outgrowing such things.
Oof.
That sort of stopped me in my tracks.
I thought about how he isn't quite as crazy about our Children's Museum anymore.
I started thinking about how he has spent his last three days.... conquering his new game.
In a decidedly dedicated manner.

I got a little panicked.
What for Trev?
What for Trev?

What's here that is interesting and educational and intriguing and inspiring for an eight year old boy?!?
What kind of supplies can I buy?
Do I need to completely re-do things???
I called for Trev to come downstairs so I could feel him out a bit.

While I was waiting for him to answer my summons, :), my head went immediately to taught school subjects.
Reading.
Pff. Check. (I'm not worried even a little about this.)
The technical side? Language Arts?
No problem! We'll just break out the Mad Libs. 'Got plenty of 'em. And the child speaks beautifully and has an outstanding vocabulary... not a problem.
Math.
Seems to be interested and asking questions... don't think this is something to be worried about. What else ya got?
I started settling down quite a bit at this point.
Science?
Pff. Even my questioning self says Piffle to that. Not even on the radar. We breathe science around here.
"Trev?" he was with me, now, "I've been thinking and worrying a bit, and I'm wanting to know if there are things you'd like to know about or are interested in that we don't have." Which is kind of a silly question, a bit like asking "what don't you know?". But still, he had something to offer.
"I'd like to study cells, and play with Dad, and you know. Do things like that."
"And experiements?", asked I. "And still learning about interesting people, like Davey Crockett, and Helen Keller?"
"Yeah. Is that all? I'm done with this icecream, and wanna put the rest in the freezer, and get back to my game."
"Yeah, okay."

I looked at the shelf that I was sitting twelve inches from, and saw an American Heroes book called Daniel Boone. And one on Thomas Jefferson. And I thought of Captains Courageous that was sittng upstairs. And I spied our books on explorers, and I thought of the huge Historical Timeline book that I just re-discovered yesterday (purchased several years ago for my own studies).
And I thought of my book on kings and queens of Scotland and England, and DaVinci, and The Dangerous Book for Boys.
And I started to really settle and become still.

I'll teach him to play Othello.
And we'll read Shakespeare For Kids. (He loved Midsummer Night's Dream.)
And we'll put Edison on the timeline... and John Henry and Lincoln (favorites of his).
We'll read about kings and Ghengis Kahn and put more dinosaurs and mammals on the timeline, too.
We'll check out cool cdroms from the library, and buy JumpStart Third Grade.
We'll keep looking for new games of Carmen Sandiego, and play Math Blaster, and I'll wonder how soon I can introduce him to the game Master Mind.
We'll read our books about weather, and read again How Mountains are Made and The Spaceship Earth and all the other Let's Read and Find Out books we enjoy.
We'll continue to go to the planetarium, and the natural history museum.
We'll ask questions and watch you-tube and National Geographic videos.

:) We'll take chances, make mistakes, and get messy.

So, then.
We'll continue on.
Same as today.
Tomorrow does not come unexpectedly and disconnected from Today.

There are lots of interesting things and books lying about this home.
And we'll continue to bring in other, new things as we discover them.
It's no different.

So then,
All is well.

Ho Hum

I believe in Unschooling.

I agree with Mr. Einstein's words of "It is a very grave mistake to think that the enjoyment of seeing and searching can be promoted by means of coercion and a sense of duty."

It's also cause for yet another of the puzzles my life.

Like that I believe in not harming any living creature but that I eat meat.
And that people who don't follow the rule of using their turn signal piss me off, but that I happily drive 80 miles per hour (or so) on the freeway.
Or that I'm a pacifist, and would like to smack people upside the head sometimes (and once in a while even do).
I have a peculiar set of rules that I adhere to-- ones made up by Me, in accordance with what I deem as sensible or honorable.

I think I'm learning -and accepting- (in my vast wisdom) that two or more opposing things can be true at the same time.

Because my son loves to ride his bike.
And my son did not want to learn to ride his bike.

Being a domineering and authoritative parent who has children live and behave because they are bullied and made to feel it's the only way they can receive my love and acceptance is probably my greatest parental fear.
Coersion and manipulation are not things that I want associated with me.
And as it happens, I am bossy by nature.

On the other hand... I am human.
And my children came to me to have a Human Experience.

Sometimes the call is an easy one. "Am I doing or thinking or feeling this out of Fear?" And if the answer is Yes, then I know it's not something that is True.

But sometimes the answer is not so clear.
Sometimes it feels like the answer is To shake things up. Or For a sense of adventure. Or Because I think he will enjoy it. And I have to dig deeper into my motivation.

So a Mama finds herself saying "Oh, come on, Bud, come snuggle with me! Come, let me read to you for a minute...." and so we end up reading (at his request and his delight) the next five chapters of Georg's Key.

And he learns to ride his bike, and discovers a whole new world - riding and whooping down hills, Independent Play (without his Mama nearby), neighborhood exploration, and growing up.

And he learns to feel satisfaction with something he's Created or drawn with his hands. Something that makes him smile.

And he learns that being challenged and adding numbers in his head is fun.

And he plays with baking soda and vinegar in the sandbox for the next two days.

I have been thinking on these things for a few weeks, now.
For a long time I wondered if I was justifying bullying my children into doing something they didn't want to do "for their own good".

My children have very real interests.... and never would I discourage their explorations and dedication to their pursuits and discoveries.
Never would I consider taking them away from an animal or dinosaur book or video (something they love) and toss them a Mathematics cdrom.

On the other hand.... when my son is standing around and waiting for his friend to get done with her chores so they can go Explore, I'll say, "Here... how about a ten minute game of Bingo?" and then "Addition or Subtraction today?"
And the thing is... we have a good time. (As long as I don't get my head into a "Let's just finish this" place. That robs the joy of something, but good.)

So a couple of questions arise.
Is it alright (with me and my subscribed philosophy) to interfere if the children find themselves in a lull?
I've found (through interacting in such a way with my son) that since I am (I believe) connected enough with my babes to recognize when they are "resting"- ie processing, needing a break from lots of activity, internalizing something, etc - that the answer is a surprising Yes.
Somehow, some way, getting them out of a place of Complacency... seems to work- and by "work" I mean it benefits all of us. As incongruous as it seems.

But... is that a good reason for doing it?
Am I robbing them of the Joy of Discovery?
If we play math Bingo at age 7, am I subverting his possible discovery of love for Math at age 9? or 12? or 17? (Provided I can hold out that long, of course.)

Does everything under the sun have to be discovered in absolute joy?

I know that these things seem so simple and probably so ridiculous to others.
And in regard to sweeping statements like "You are the parent" I say yes, but it's my job to aid and support them, not make them into something that I think they should be. Even at this young age, I don't get to choose their lives for them.

I think I have to ask myself the hardest question of all (and truthfully see myself) and ask myself if I'm just justifying something that doesn't sit well with me.
Does the end justify the means?

This is the question I haven't answered yet, and the reason I haven't posed (and posted) these questions before now.

Just because we have fun playing Bingo, does that make it alright to wheedle Trev into playing in the first place?
Just because one of his new Heroes is now Davey Crockett, does that make it alright that I said "Yes, you do have to watch it... for fifteen minutes."?
Just because he went through two gallons of vinegar in two days, does that make it alright that initially I said, "Come on, Bub, time for volcanoes...." and gently insisted when he drug his feet?

As I read this and think about it (and sift through the ill feelings) I come to the conclusion that the deciding factor is.... Motive.

Whether I'm choosing it out of dreaded Ego, Fear.... or Joy.

Aaaah...that's what it comes down to.

And if I'm not doing it out of Joy (and/or a sense of "I -honestly and in Love- believe you'll like this and I want to share it with you"), then I'd better damned well change my motivation. I'd better get damned good at swiftly stopping myself in my tracks, and taking the higher ground, instead.

Yup. I think that's it.
Let's bring it in... as long as the motivation is filled with happy Love.

news in the news

We received our little township newspaper yesterday and in it is an article on chickens. It seems that Salt Lake City Unincorporated has received requests from folks to be allowed to raise poultry, in the name of Sustainable Living.
How cool is that???
The county mayor's office replied that they "Support strategies that encourage sustainable living..." and that they've provided propositional drafts to the community councils.

Eric and I have been talking the last few weeks about chickens again.
Last year we decided against it, but this year his interest in living off the land (small area such as it is) has tenfolded.
I think chickens (for eggs) are definitely in our future.

cluck cluck.

touch

Yesterday I had a really interesting experience.
About a week ago, I was reading someone's blogpost for the day, and she had posted pictures of trees and plants and things, and I commented something like "Oh, since seeing this, I have to get outside - to see things, and smell things, and touch things!" I hadn't even realized that I had missed it, even though it probably had only been a few of days since I'd played outside.

Then yesterday morning I knew that Outside was on my list for the day again. After we whiled away the morning with experiments, during which time our part of the earth warmed up, we headed outside.
Because I wanted my camera for the playground after the children's bikeride at the church, I had no choice but to leave the batteries behind charging, as my extra set was in our truck - which Eric had.

I'm not even sure that I can say this without sounding cooky - but it was so cool!
Since my eyes weren't darting and capturing things - potentially a photo things - somehow I was more engaged with the Outside. Maybe 'more' isn't the right word - but differently engaged.

Instead of touching things as I usually do - with my eyes and heart and spirit - I touched them with my bare hands. I rubbed pinecones, and ran my fingers through long pine needles. I stroked trees and felt the difference in their bark. I rubbed the tall cement that made up the base of the lamppost, and put my hand to my nose to see if I could smell it.
Everything was so different.

I hadn't even considered before that I was missing out on anything.
I think maybe that's one of the things that winter does to us - we keep our hands in our pockets or our mittens. Our feet are bound into thick socks and burley boots. We're padded and stuffed, and have a thick layer of "can't touch" around us.

I felt really alive -springtime alive- with my altered awareness of Outside.
I'll definitely be remembering this bit of therapy.

If you're feeling disconnected or out of sorts - I highly recommend prodding off your gloves for a minute and touching the world.

15 days: Play

Today I found much happiness in watching the children play with our Enchanted Winter scene, something we created with our own hands.

Unschooling Part Two: The Rules

It's the oxymoron thing again.
Are there rules to not having rules?
To some folks there are.
I guess all things considered, it can be decided moment to moment, based on the family's needs. Which is probably how most folks try to do it.
Unless they don't.
It's all good.
Unless it isn't.
:)


I received an email the other day/week from a stranger (Hi Marcela!) about unschooling, and homeschooling, and the what and how of us doing it.
Was funny to hear that a few miles north and several miles west of here (on the west coast) things are looking very familiar!

When I first read about Unschooling I was intrigued.
For a number of reasons.
It sounded right, first of all.
It sounded free.
Liberated.
Unlimited.
It sounded healthy.
Full.
Big.

Somewhere there in the beginning (among my browser bookmarks of preschool curriculum, what your three-year-old should know by now lists, and does your child measure up? quizzes I found a list made up by someone (I've always thought it was Sandra Dodd, but I've never been able to find it again) in the very beginning of their unschooling process.
A checklist.

A checklist that looks like

"
Reading - books, magazines, newspapers, websites (fiction,
nonfiction, poetry, drama, essays, articles

Doing - cooking, swimming, dog training, babysitting, volunteering,
working, singing, acting, music, math

Making - art, crafts, building, sewing, weaving, beadwork

Watching - tv, movies, videoes, live theater, demonstrations, exhibits

Listening - tapes, radio, music, audio magazines, lectures

Talking - speech, discussion, explaining, directing, instructing,
debating

Visiting - museums, zoos, fieldtrips

Thinking - planning, analyzing, imagining, plotting
"

This list really helped me to see that living life - breathing, playing, and exploring - is spectacularly educational.
Not too much after than that I started to think of school as not only "not terribly beneficial", but perhaps (definitely for my children -child, there was only Trev, then- and me) as "detrimental".

So the swing began.

With the evolution of my opinion on what is "knowledge" and "education", other things also started to happen.

Like asking "Why?".

"Why does it have to be that way?"
"Why, when it's of no great benefit to anyone, other than "the authority"?"
"Why do you say no?"
"Why is memorizing it in a book better than tripping in a wooded glen, discovering truths for yourself?"
"Why wouldn't a child be encouraged to say "I don't like that!"?"
"Why not study Egypt when you're four, if that's what you're interested in?"
"Why not let them get thrilled about math by playing a fun monster math cd (all day if they want to)?"
"Why not (happily) let them draw with chalk on the wooden back door?"
"Why not learn about astronomy when the children are seven and three?"
"Why is it disrespectful when a child says "I'm hungry now!"?"
"Why not let them hang upside down from the swingset, even if they're two, if they are strong enough to get up there in the first place?"
"Why is it bedtime before you're tired?"
"Why not cake for breakfast?"

Just because things have always been that way does not mean that it's the best way.

Unschooling teaches us to think.
To reconsider.
To question.
To ask questions.
And even to level the playing field, as I've found out lately.
Much to my surprise.
(Turns out my children feel perfectly comfortable asking anyone What It Is They Want To Know, be that "Why?" of a grandparent or of a passing by Aviary worker.)

So what then?
What comes after the bending of the parental mind?
:)

The fun stuff.
The How.

Start a new group, if there isn't one you like in your area.
Connect with others. Some same, some different.
There's craft circles.
Nature club.
Project Wild.
Culture club.
Book clubs (with homeschoolers, or at the library).
Anime clubs.
Game night.
Math clubs.
Park days.

Be inspired. By everything!
By a National Geographic article.
By the Farmer's Market.
By a youtube video.
By reorganizing a bookcase. Which so often happens to us!
By entering the grocery store at the other door, and walking the rows backwards. (er, by direction, not walking backwards. :) Unless you really want to.)
By a hula hoop. (Thanks so much for the grand Hula hoop, Aub!)
By art supplies, by music, by cloud watching, by magnets, by birds, by your backyard habitat, by walking on the beach (sigh), by bubbles and by moonbeams.

The law of Unschooling is to Be Open, I think.
Open to field trips.
To sleeping outside.
To trying something new.
To answering the thousandth question of the day.
To two more (extra) library videos.
Open to stopping off at the memorial of the Japanese pilot who was trying to be the first person flying around the world.
And the World'd Largest Ball Of Twine.
And the (so boring to me) World's Largest Quilting Exhibit.
Be open to the possibility that learning happens everywhere.

That's the rule, I think.
The particulars are up to you (the Collective Your Family You).
The how often.
The with whom.
The "how far?".
The "to what extent?".
The "when can we again?"
The "ooof, let's get outta here."

One thing I know for sure...
The more you pay attention to it - the how it happens, the when it happens, the wherefore it happens, the more you see it happening, and the more fantastic it becomes.

Life becomes magical.
Life becomes magic.

Unschooling Part One: The Natural Law

A friend asked me a couple of weeks ago how we got to certain comfortable positions in unschooling. And then a stranger asked another question - totally unrelated, but still a question of "how?".

While it feels strange to have people ask me - me!- such questions, I do feel that I have a couple of things to offer.
One - access to smart and intuitive Mama's who witness and understand self-directed learning (and whom will hopefully respond with comments and advice);
and Two- I've asked lots of questions of this life myself, and have come to a few conclusions.

I remember writing - God, when was it? Sometime around a couple of years ago, wait, let me do just a tiny bit of research so that I can get it exactly right, admittedly my sense of time is terribly unreliable rather extraordinary.....it was Feb of 2006.... a post to local unschoolers about "radical unschooling seems to be something of an oxymoron, is it implies there are rules to "not going by the rules".

Since then we- dh, the babes, and I- have had a hell-of-a-lot-of, stomach-full, heart-full, and head-full of learning and growing.

Sometimes, amazingly, it just turns natural.
Really, it does.

shrug.
I'm not entirely certain how to explain it.
something to do with...

family dynamic.
the individuals.
the unit as a whole.

What I mean tastes something like

"I want icecream." at 9:15am. (something Maddie would say.)
"Uh... are you hungry? D'you want pancakes? Sausage? Eggs? Cereal? Cantaloupe?"
"Nope. I want icecream."
"Alright, then. One bowl of icecream coming up."

That's what it looks like to me.

It's honoring every one's needs.
It's honoring her hunger, as well as her need for nutrition by offering healthy and filling foods that she loves.
It's honoring my need to feel I'm a good Mama by offering her cantaloupe and scrambled eggs for breakfast.
It's offering my Self to help her get what she needs. (Which is what all Mama's do.)

If Eric were to enter this particular scene, if it were played out with him rather than with me, it would be imperative to honor his needs.
He might have been witness to Too Much Popsicle Eating the day before.
He might have cooked a dinner last night (a meal on which we all agreed) that no one even touched, or thanked him for preparing.
He might be feeling that he has no control over his life in that moment.
Icecream for breakfast might irritate the hell out of him.

The beauty of time and life passing by is that eventually we come to a place of Wisdom.
More expeditiously, certainly, if we pay attention.
If we are Mindful.

Just by being and living we come to know our selves and each other better.
Just by living our lives with certain intentions we grow, and become more comfortable with certain ideas. Decide our ideals.
Just by honoring our selves, our spouses, and our children we become more aware of our needs and our reactions, and the reasons for them.

Life -and family life- just happens naturally.

Of course there are moments - sometimes days, and sometimes even weeks!- when we don't handle things as graciously as we'd like.
Sometimes I dislike myself immensely for reacting a certain way, or feel embarrassed for functioning on reactionary auto-pilot for long stretches.

And then I'm reminded that life, hearts, and heads just flow.
Not that life happens to us (without our having anything to do with it), I don't mean, but that It Is What It Is.
I think we can erase a great deal (and make remarkable steps into the future) just by doing what my friend Julie does - "Hey. I handled that badly. What I could have done is....."
(My own approach to this wisdom would also have to include verbalizing my feelings about the situation at the time, and then "I handled it poorly, what I should could have done is....")

Living in a home where everyone is honored, everyone feels just as important, everyone is free to have an opinion, and everyone feels safe to express themselves just makes it happen.
That doesn't mean that everyone always speaks with a reverent tone.
It means that questions - by and of every individual - are all part of the family relationship.
"Why do you feel that way?"
"Do you need something from me?"
"Can you stop doing that?, it's driving me mad."
"Can I have a turn first?"
"I feel you're being unfair!"

Sometimes it comes from the youngest. Sometimes the oldest child. Sometimes it comes from those who sometimes fancy themselves as grown-ups. Great age doesn't mean there are less mistakes made, certainly.

So we've come a long way on this particular path.
In the beginning I read on all the ru lists.
I tried to follow the do's and don't's.
But eventually living life with intention and love moves us toward deeper inquiries and further introspection - leading us to greater understanding of our selves and each other.
I think you come to a certain place in time -- in, of, and with Wisdom, and with care and thought, that it just happens naturally.

It just does.

checking in with Reality

Sometimes I wonder (vaguely) if I am missing something.
Something important.

I watch my children, and their busy-ness, and their discoveries and explorations and imaginings and Ways, and I hardly ever worry.
I don't usually judge it - except in an amused, enchanted sort of way.
I don't usually quiz them - except when one fear or another creeps in - and then I evaluate, or question (them or me), and muddle through it the best way I can. Always eager to get to the other side.

Unschooling comes so easy to us.
And I spose this is where I get hung up.
People that know nothing of unschooling might say, "Of course it's easy! You're not doing anything!!"
But that isn't true. At least, it doesn't seem that way to me. And I guess that's where I sometimes question if I'm missing something.
We read. We explore the local historic farm. We visit the Planetarium, and watch its films. We visit museums probably at least a dozen times a year. We bake and cook. We look at the globe and and ask questions of "Where's ____?" and "How far is ____?" and "Show me ____..." at least once a week (including Maddie). We play Carmen Sandiego on the computer. We play Clifford on pbs. We play Math 1-2. And JumpStart World. We build, we swim, we play with friends, and we go to the library. We learn about the constellations, and wonder which planet that is in the night sky. We experiment with magnets. We learn about the life cycle of the frog. We clean, we interact, we solve problems, and we communicate. We help each other, and sometimes we hinder.
We discuss evolution often. We count, we name colors, and we imitate animals.
We make Pinwheels for Peace every year, and we watch Animal Planet. We watch Wishbone, Arthur, Nova and the History Channel. We paint, we sculpt with clay, we play with tangrams, and we do science experiments. We flex our imaginative muscles daily with pretend play.

It's all so natural, and free flowing.
Experiencing life this way, I feel so satisfied and confident. (Most of the time.)
But then once in a while someone says something, and I have to ask myself.... am I missing something? Is living this way not enough? How can someone doubt it?
It is so apparent and obvious to me that it's working so beautifully....

And so I try to see things from a different perspective, and surround us with circumstances when it would not Be Enough.
Such as if we doubted our ability to learn anything. (I don't mean anything-at-all, I mean we know that we can learn anything. That nothing is outside the realm of possibility.)
Or if we felt we had to play by someone else's rules.
Or if we believed that instead of people needing more room to grow and love and expand out of them selves they needed more limitations.

None of those apply to us.

I cannot think of one thing right now in our experiences and growth and living that is lacking.
And the beauty of living this way, is that as soon as you discover that there is something new that excites you -- you're free to pursue it, and claim the magic for yourself.

It's enough for me.

checking in

Yesterday I felt the need to check in with Trev.

Last night I got out Games for Reading - Just to see if there was anything that jumped out at me that might be fun for us.
The author was talking about how a first grade student wrote her name terribly, and had trouble with visual perception.
Trev doesn't write. Doesn't draw, either. Has barely any interest in it at all. The only time really that he writes is when he writes a few letters in short-hand - a love note to me.
"Could there be a problem?" I ask myself.
Not out of any nervous, must keep up with the Joneses, pressured/frantic/doubting unschooling sort of way.
Just in a "hmmm, is this something that I'm not aware of?" sort of way.

"Hey, Trev. Do you have a few minutes?"
I don't ordinarily quiz my children. And if I do, I am totally up front with them - giving them the reason for it - that I'm feeling nervous about something, or am curious about something, and could they help me for a minute?

I got out Maddie's Magna-Doodle. (is that what it's called?) I drew a big "x", with a small 0 in the top part, and a small o in the bottom.
"Will you copy this?"
Not a problem. The o's were exactly where they were s'posed to go.

Our constellation book was on the table.
"Hey - wanna draw constellations? Which should we do?" I drew the stars for him to link together. He actually decided to draw the constellation patterns without my stars.
Then we played a dot-to-dot game (our short quiz time was now over, and we were just having fun between ourselves) where Trev would draw a bunch of dots on the board, then link them all together (quite ably, I might add), and we would tell each other what we saw in the random drawings. That went on for several minutes.
Then we played (laughingly) several games of tic tac toe.

Of course the conclusion that I came to is that there is nothing wrong. He's just a boy that is interested in what he's interested in, and doesn't feel the need to do work that he deems as drudgery to appease someone else, or to a system that might call him misfit. He knows nothing, and probably cares less, about this System.

worry

I'm a worrier.
Who doesn't believe in worrying.

Which explains a great deal about Who I Am.
My personality, my quirks, my idiosyncrasies, and my complexities which can also be called (and I do, believe me) inconsistencies and even hypocrisies.
Which, of course I don't like.
And have a hard time accepting.

But there they are.
And here I am.
sigh.

I'm currently in the midst of a battle. One that I find no satisfaction in. (Don't think I ever do, come to think of it.)
I'm not even sure exactly how or where it began. Probably with one of those kick-my-ass sideways blows that leave me a little stunned and dizzy. That's how it usually is.
Probably from someone I love.
Not that I blame others, mind you, just that I have this Thing still, that wants to please and be understood and -heaven forbid!- Not Judged!! by people I love (or anyone, for that matter).
And then I get a notion about something, or someone says something ill considered (or not) and I shake my head, and try to make sense of it, and then DH says something, and of course I relate it to the other (no matter how convoluted it is - it's never convoluted when it's Me and My World we're talking about) and then the neighbor across the street tells my son "You'll break your arm!" because she has to say such a thing to him, because God Knows his mother never will!! And I just add it on to the list with the others.
Not because I like to dramatize.
Only because the phrase that ring in my ears over and over again is "What's the common denominator?" And the answer to that is always and unescapably "Me."
And every situation and occurrence in my life begs the question "What does this mean?"

Tonight in this tail-end of speculation and supposing, Eric came home and I laid it before him. I'm not certain that he understands. I probably confused him, and he'll probable stay that way until he reads this tomorrow, when he's bored at work.
Then he'll say "Aaah, now I see."
Well, maybe. :)

I don't mean to be vague, it's just that how it begins sometimes has nothing to do with how it ends, other than it's a cycle of my heart, soul, and head, and it's just another thing that I Just Gotta Work Out.

It managed to bring itself to an and tonight when A Neighbor (you know the one) came outside to yell at her child (yes, Yell) to not shout so while playing with the puppy in the front yard.
No joyful whoops allowed, apparently.
In a downright mean tone.

I'm not judging, I'm not disallowing feelings of a mother's frustration or angst.

I'm just Done.
I'm done being afraid of her.
I'm done being afraid of her judgments.
I'm done being concerned with what she thinks of our Freedoms and our Liberties. And we do take them - such as packing off for a day of play On A Tuesday! like yesterday.

I'm not going to worry about reputation.
I'm not going to bite my nails when I see her conversing (ahem) with the other neighbors.

I know I'm right.
I know that I am raising my children well.
I am raising them with love.
I am raising them to not be afraid of themselves and of their lives.

I'll not apologize for it.

almost laughable

yesterday i read on the "no child left inside" site that "Children as young as five showed a decrease in ADD symptoms when they were engaged with nature."

Do ya think?

Could it be because some children are "naturalists" in their thinking?
Could it be because they are outside, learning and exploring freely instead of sitting in a closed room being told to memorize?
Could it be because they are free to move around?
Could it be because they are actively making sense of their world?


I would laugh if it weren't so painful.

p.s.

white,
bright
sunlight
dark brown soil
bright green living.

beautiful!

outside

Aside from my Little Son being sick :( I am so very happy today.
P. Allen Smith greeted me this morning, and now I'm watching its proceeding show.
I am so eager to work in my front yard, today!!

I think I am taking out the four rose bushes at the front fence (I don't particularly like them, and they take all the sun in the front, and I have like 18 or so rosebushes in the back) and I believe we are putting in a dwarf fruit tree in front (either peach, cherry, or apple - something we'll eat) and we are placing a blackberry (or two) bush in the front, along with raspberry transplants.

Since we're planning to grow food in our front yard and plan to grow them quite thick for privacy (we're very tired of our neighbors minding our business) we'll put in lots of beauties, too, to keep it appealing.
That's where the tall Shasta's come in, and I think I bought a dozen foxgloves yesterday. I prefer cottage garden style anyway, so mixing tomatoes with cucumbers and daisies and lupine is quite acceptable to me.

Well - think I'll fix my first glass of tea, put on a couple of layers (to be taken off as the day progresses) and get to it.

Have a truly lovely day.

Then ....and Now (or) The Romance of a Watermelon

Keeping a Nature Journal by Claire Walker Leslie (circa year 2000)

It seems like folks are always lamenting The Good Ol' Days.
Complaining about how grand things were Then, and what a Sad State of Affairs the world has come to, Now.

A sentiment I most assuredly do not share.

I'm not saying that the romance of the past holds no magic for me. Please. Historical fiction is one of my great loves.

I am saying that it confuses and saddens me when I here people say "Back in my day.....", with a dreamy look in their eye, as if their yesterdays are the only days worth living.
I always think, Well, this is your day, too.

This sentiment (that this is your day, too) is such a big part of Who I Am.
It is reflected in the way I celebrate my life, it is apparent in the way I am raising my children, it is portrayed in my political choices (that I believe strongly in Freedom and Liberty), and it is probably obvious in my daily life - such as walking away from the dishes whenever I feel like it. :)

I honestly don't see that life in a by-gone era holds more romance or magic than today.

Aside from the obvious - famine, women being eighteenth-class citizens, people in general not being seen as equals, chamber pots :) and not having a convenient place to dump them - even in the fifties - a place our folks now would call the good-ol-days we had lots of issues - among them, women being patted on the head, and being told "There there, little lady, don't you worry your pretty little head about it," wide-spread human inequality, and certainly no real choices in the way we educate our children.

I think that if you only look around -- look at your grocer in January, and you'll find watermelon. We have access to flour that doesn't have weevils and little stones. We can eat fresh vegetables in the wintertime.
Of course, if you live anywhere near my neighborhood, these things came from far away - and swiftly put an end to your 100 Mile diet.

And there are atrocities, certainly. Nuclear energy comes to mind. As does Stovetop Stuffing and Hamburger Helper. (I could be entirely wrong in judging these things as imitations of food, I don't think in my life I have consumed either one.)

But - and it is a hugely significant one - we have options. We have choices.
Yes, there is flour with all the nutrients taken out and then put back in, but there is also organic whole grain flour. There is (still!) utilization of fossil fuels - but we have the option of harnessing energy with the sun, and with wind. Yes, it's expensive, and not an option for me, personally, that I can see, but beeswax candles and lampoil were expensive, too.

It is absolutely not my position to be trite and to say "Yes, these kids today are hooked on text messaging on their phones, and people are not interacting in personal ways -- but look at all the lives cell phones save!" (we don't have cellphones in my family) It's a ridiculous point, and not relevant here.

My point is... we have so much opportunity, and so many options.
I love that I can connect with (even on a deeply intimate, and often spiritual level) with folks (women) that I have never met, that live a thousand miles away.
I am so spectacularly grateful that in this day and age, school is a moot point. Obsolete, as my husband says.
My son can (and does) ask "what is the biggest berry in the world?" -I made that up- and I can jump on my little laptop and have in-depth information for him within two minutes of his asking it.
I love that we live on the outskirts of our capital city, and my husband can and does ride his bicycle to work when he is able.

I love this life.
I love this time.

I love this pineapple sitting upon my counter.

The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady by Edith B. Holden (written in 1906)