Hoops

a note: this is more of a journal entry, rather than something that is well-organized or engaging. Mostly "this is where my head is right now" notes to myself.

Something interesting has happened.
The other day I visited Homeschooling Is Freedom, scrolled down a bit, and because Pam Sarooshian was in it, I decided to watch a minute of the video that was made of the 2009 Homeschool Association of California Conference.
The Very Interesting Thing happened at in the name of John Bennett. (If you only have time for this part, push play and then drag it to about 13:17, and he'll be on in just a second.)

Sometimes it just happens that way.
Sometimes no matter how much I think that I'm able to stop, and step outside of something (like a rigid idea that looks like "our days need to include straight-forward -obvious- math"), and evaluate something for itself, by myself (ie think for myself)..... sometimes it takes someone like John Bennett to clear the fog for me.
What I mean is... there aren't a lot of "just because" 's in my world. We don't do science projects "because we should have a firm grasp on Newton's third", we do them because they're fun and interesting. I don't have Trevelyn sit down and write "because (according to some) he should be able to write easily and neatly", but rather he does it in freedom and as he needs... or not. Sitting down to write spelling words seems silly - we've never once done a spelling quiz, and he spells with accuracy. I didn't teach the children to read... Trev did that on his own, and Maddie has begun her explorations, and looks to be processing and learning in the same ways.
I've said before that to me a great day is full of "Explore", "Create", and "Discover". That's pretty much all I could want.
And I'm pretty comfortable with our laid-back approach to mathematics.
I mean, we have Jedi Math for the leapster. Math 1-2. MathBlaster. JumpStart cd's. The Allowance Game. Trev counts money. He rounds numbers. We listen to Multiplication Vacation - and love it. We bake. He has a pretty firm grasp on fractions. We play games with the cuisenaire rods. So it's not something totally outside our realm... but... there's still been something there that feels like - not looks like, on the outside, you understand, but feels like (in my head)- "are we doing enough math?"
Never once have I asked myself "Why do we need to learn Math?"
Never once did I question it.
I guess that I've always just thought that it was so Big - like reading - that it was just a given.
Mathematics is the language of numbers, and it's something that floats in the air around our heads... therefore it's something that needs to be understood in order to make sense of the world.
But never did I consider that past a particular point - past division and multiplication and percentages and knowing how to add fractions that don't have a common denominator - that the point was to teach the mind how to process in an expansive way. And I would even say in a uniform way.
So. I whole-heartedly agree with Mr. John Bennett.

"We're still teaching it because in life we need the kind of reasoning that we develop through the teaching of mathematics. So mathematics is just a medium to develop the logical thinking - the analytical thinking, the inductive reasoning, the deductive reasoning...
So I've asked myself over the years, "Why am I teaching this?" For this thinking.
So... can we do it better?
Can we do it differently?"

Ah.
[enters unschooling.]

I called to Eric, and had him come watch Mr. Bennett's bit with me.
Of course we had a big long discussion about homeschooling and unschooling.
It's kind of funny to me that Eric is still a tiny bit nervous at times about home education.
But, on the other hand, I can appreciate it, because it helps me to keep in mind where the common thought and opinion about it lies.
Thoughts like "I'll ruin her life!"
"What if I don't do it right?"
"What if we miss something important?"
My mind is so far past these thoughts or fears that I don't even consider them valid questions anymore. And as far as education goes (as in rote learning) - the only reason that children are taught to do things at particular points is because 1) most often that is initially where the natural inclination -developmentally- leans (such as beginning to write and draw at a particular age) so the system simply jumps on it and rolls with it, and 2) there is a schedule - a twelve year program- that must be adhered to. We have to get this "done" so that we can move on to the next.
And as far as I'm concerned... that's it. That's the reason for the arbitrariness.
Aside from that, as I've said before, it seems to me that school just is just an imitation of a life well lived.
I've watched my children enough, and flipped through enough workbooks and visited enough NEA curriculum pages to know what goes on in school.
Go into your local Teacher's shop. What will you find?
Well, you'll find stickers to attach to the top of worksheet pages, for one. "Good Job!"
You'll find lesson plans and worksheets about growing bean sprouts. Including black and white drawings of "this much dirt in the cup, then the seed, then this much dirt again.... how does it grow?" and you can draw a lovely garden on a piece of paper.
Or you can dig around in the backyard. And pick peppers off the vine.
In a math workbook you can draw a pizza with half pepperoni, 1/4 mushrooms, 1/2 olives, 3/4 cheese... or you can get out the flour and make your own dough and pie.
You can draw lines on a paper, grouping and sorting things together, or you can clean up toys and put them in the right boxes... and sort silverware into the drawer.
You can fill out worksheets or you can figure out time by listening to the world around you and asking Dad when he's coming home and figure out how many hours and minutes that means.
You can be taught to read by sitting down for "100 Easy Lessons" that may be quite painful for everyone, or you can learn to read by being read to and by wanting to know what dinosaur this is.
You can learn science by filling in the blank on a quiz, copied from a dry-as-dust textbook, or you can learn about microbes by digging in the compost and looking at things under the microscope.
You can create an owl out of uniform, pre-cut shapes (and be told where, exactly, they go, and be graded upon your precision - aka your ability to Follow Along and Do As You're Told)... or not.

"But this just fits our lives," says Eric. "This is who we are."
Indeed.
And my mind drifts to: If every mathematician were supported in his or her mind's processes... can you imagine? If every mechanic or engineer were recognized for operating as such... if every naturalist was given more books and time outside... if every Physicist encouraged instead of told she must be well-rounded... if every future Albert Einstein was smiled at in a knowing, accepting way instead of told "No! You must learn to tie your shoes, now... come away from that telescope!..."

[shrug]
We're not hoop jumpers. Never much cared for them. Or for the people doing the whistling and "c'mere boy, c'mere"-ing and bouncing of the hoops, for that matter.

So it's been particularly enlightening to process these thoughts after listening to Mr. Bennett.
Liberating.
Reminding - that is... the re-adjustment and re-evaluation of thoughts.

It's so nice to have one more of the foundation blocks firmly in place.

learning not required

(S'pose I'll post this to both Happy and Free and OLM-- there are different readers.)

Sometimes it might take two minutes.
' might take me two days.
Might even take me a couple of weeks.
oof.
But eventually
it always comes down to
Joy.

My children are entitled to Joy
and I Choose Joy
and learning should be had in Joy.
Personal philosophy.

Some might say narcissistic or hedonistic....
and maybe that's true...
prob'ly it is.
But for me it's imperative.
I believe in a God (Universe, All) that is abundant
never condemning
and constant in the loving.
I strive to be the same for my children.

So somewhere in here is where I find What Works For Us.
And
in here, too,
I also find
What Does Not.
It's sooooo easy when it's like today.
When the children (and the Mama - imagine that! rolls eyes at herself)
are so happy
-and dashing
and digging
and Inquisitive.
So easy.

Thank God I get these days, for these days and moments are what I live for.

The other ones--
blech. The other ones.
I've picked them apart enough to know that they feel nothing like today.
Those days are so heavy. Wearing armor.
They're full and full some more of Fear
and its companion, Ego
and I just wish they'd let me be.
Be.
As I long to let my children Be.
(To be fair to myself I should say that it's not always Days that are like this, sometimes it's just a Moment, and I can pretty easily dismiss it.)

So...
The Experiment.

The difference around here in what is Working (learning in Freedom, Love, and Joy), and what is Not Working (worrying it's Not Good Enough, fearing the love of discovery has come to an exhausted end, letting a stranger's -or even a friend's- judgment stand in place of my own) is easiest for me to pinpoint in the How.

The What is not an issue. The What is what The Experiment was about. If I had my hands off, how would a day look? Turned out to look very familiar. Never mind that we didn't go to Chuck E Cheese or to see an irritating cartoon film at the dollar movie (I didn't think of them to offer to Trev)-- our days are peppered aplenty with that sort of thing.
I'm supposing that our days are pretty much what my children would choose for themselves even if I didn't ask "Want to?"

So... The How.
The How is where the joy lies.

There is "Here, let's get out this new kit, and do the first experiment, shall we?" and there is "Want to check this out with me and see what's in it?" and "Oooh... what does this do?" And skipping straight to the mystery sticky pink thing in Experiment #9.

There is "Woh! You gotta come see this!" and there's "It's time for an experiment..." (All of which I've said often enough. Some more than others, thank goodness.)

They might look the same.
Might even get roughly the same results.
But I'll tell you what...
They don't feel the same.

So I was talking about leading (there was something about a statement that said Unschoolers -er, rather unschooling Mama's- don't lead, which I say is Nonsense)... and I count all of the above scenarios as leading. Not leading to me would be no suggestions whatsoever. That would mean waiting until a friend called to say "Wanna play?" instead of ever offering "Shall we see if friends wanna play at the park today?" It would mean always having my children with me at the store to say "this looks interesting, can we get it?" instead of tossing an exotic fruit or science kit into my basket because it's something I like or am excited to share with them.

So, yes, I lead. And I follow. And sometimes I'm the coal tender.

And when it's right
it's so right.

And that's the way I want it.
I want it Right
and I want it natural
(nature flowing to and from our family as a soulful unit and as individuals)
and I want it in Joy.

Not fear.
Not ego.
Joy.

Again and again and again
I choose Joy.
And I'm gonna do it like I wrote it, dammit.

Leading

This is what stuck with me the most.
At Crunchy Christian Mama's blog, she said that someone around her said she wasn't an Unschooler any longer. The reason given was that she led her children.
Which I smile at.

But of course it also raised lots of feelings and questions for me... at the top of the list was "Are we unschoolers?"
Not in a panicky, judging, let's-tear-this-apart way, gnash my teeth and get down to the bare bones sort of way, but in an objectional, "hmmmm.... let's stop for a minute, look around, and take notes" sort of way. I've exposed enough nuclei and quarks on this issue lately to be comfortable with the How we do things... but this time I wanted to examine the What.

So, I had the idea for the Experiment.
The first thing was to take the issue to Trev. We talked about homeschooling, and unschooling, and how that's different from school, and the way other people do things. We talked about the things he likes to do. We talked about having diversity in our days. We talked about finding lots of different things interesting. Even pilgrims.

I wondered if I was doing right by my children. I wondered if I was opening books on Early America in the name of exposure and diversity, or because I wanted to feel like A Good Homeschoool Mom. (Wretched title, for me, by the way. Feels like a minivan. No offense intended... just not my style.)

So I talked to Trevelyn. And gave the next day to him.

Admittedly, it was hard!

About an hour after he was given the reigns he didn't want them. I briefly considered giving up the idea, but I wanted really wanted to see the thing through.

He decided on the planetarium for a film. Under the Sea 3D. I asked if we could see Extreme Planets, too-- I really have been wanting to see it. He relented, I took it back, he said "no, it's okay, we can see it, too, Mom," I was still trying to decide if I was cheating or not, and in the end we were going to have to rush, and I decided not to.
See? Hard to stay out of it.

To the park, not to the park, Maddie demands "yes!!" to the park...
again... hard for us all to stay out of it.

I didn't really know how long this experiment would last.
The plan was 'Trev leads'.
Then 'Maddie leads'.
Would our days look totally different from our usual experiences?
Would we sit and watch Trev play his game all day?
Would we have tea parties?
Would books be banned? ;)

Not quite.
Turns out that it was pretty familiar.

I wondered at first if it was because Trev was disinterested. Or if he was feeling pressured, and couldn't think.
And as the day wore on, I wondered if I should have offered more ideas. If I shouldn't have just left it at "If you could do anything in the whole world, what would you do today?" (though I did offer some ideas.)
Maybe I should have mentioned Classic? (even though we went yesterday.)
Maybe I should have mentioned the dollar movie to see Ice Age Dawn of the Dinosaurs? (In my defense, I didn't think of it 'til later.)

But... ding. We do these kinds of things every day. I'm not opposed to a dollar movie. I'm not opposed to spending four or five hours at the park or skating rink. That's business-as-usual for us.

We Enjoy Lots Of Different Things.
Not only that, but We All Lead.
Moment to moment, day to day, we pack in things that are interesting to each of us. Some are boring to some of us. I about cried of boredom a couple of times during Little House In the Big Woods. But my babes liked it, so I kept going. I'm not as enthralled as Maddie with puzzles. But we play. Sometimes I'm led to the roller rink. I would never choose to go there by myself. I have a good time because my babes have a good time.

My point is not that "I suffer, therefore it won't hurt my children to be bored over something, either," but that there is an ebb and flow to our days and moments.
We lead, we follow.
We live together, we love, and we learn. We are inspired by lots of different things, and we are influenced by lots of different things.
Our lives are lead by other things sometimes... as free as we are, we are not free in every moment. There are appointments sometimes, there are children, phone calls... needs. Things that can be viewed as disruptions. None of us live independently of others.
We're influenced by weather, society, the calendar, seasons, events in our city, and the money that's in our pocket.

The joy in my life comes from many different things-- creating, exploring, discovering... space to live and breathe and just Be.
Toward this end I make offers to -and sometimes lead- my children.
And toward this end I follow.

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.

Complacency

So back to it. :)

Here's my problem.... complacency.

And I don't mean a "resting" period. And I don't mean a "soaking it all in" period. I mean a "I'm comfortable where I am watching television" period.

Not that the tellie is even a problem (read: a stressful worry for Mama) at the moment, as Cartoon Network has been banned again. By Trevelyn, of course. For a couple of more months, until Summer, he says-- and its been about three weeks, now. (He got frightened by something again - I think it was Batman, though he doesn't talk about it, and so we just respect his wishes.)
And I never mind pbs shows and library videos, or even the Flinstones, Scooby, Dora and Diego, as the children love them so much.

So-- it's not the tv.

And since that's not it, I've been asking myself today and yesterday what it is.

I think it kind of surfaced the other day, maybe a week or so ago, when Trev was pounding on the computer desk, and really frustrated. He was angry because he wanted to play with his friend, and she was in school. (He was pounding and screaming, I was pmsing, you can imagine that the moment wasn't going over terribly smoothly.)
Our conversation was something like "Come on, Bud... let's do something together."
"No, I just wanna sit here and wait for (friend) to get out of school."
"She doesn't get out of school for six hours."
"Then I'll just sit here and wait."
blink.
"And what if she can't play when she gets home? Then your day will have wasted away." I could just envision the meltdown happening if she couldn't play (and didn't think I could take it)... "You can't just sit and wait for your life to pass by, Son. Do something fun."
"I'll just go sit on my bed and wait."

Now as I sit here (in this quiet morning, when everyone but me still sleeps) this doesn't seem like such a bad idea.
He can be pondering the game he and she play, and think about dinosaurs, and think about racing, or whatever he's thinking about.

But I was in that "He never wants to do anything," place, (that's the truth as I saw it in that moment) and I was totally frustrated by it.

And it's not true that "he never wants to do anything". Obviously, if you've ever visited OLM.

But it is true that he can be complacent in a place that he isn't happy with, and will turn down things that I know he will love or truly enjoy in the name of "I'm comfortable right here where I am".

So what to do? And do I have the right to do anything?
(Lord, this isn't another "I must Fix It" thing, is it?)

Here's what I don't want:
I don't want to be a domineering -or even authoritarian- parent. I want to aid and support my children in limitless love, and to give them the very best of myself so that they may find and represent the best part (ie the Most) of their individual Self.

I don't want my children to rely upon me as their motivation for Learning. That's an obvious one, and not really a problem, as they really are inquisitive and interested (but just don't ask me if that's true when I'm stressed out about something).

I don't want to be my child's main motivator in Life. Though this one is a bit complex, as I'm not a self-motivated person, so I really have no idea about instilling it in my children. Spiritually and philosophically, I suspect that it's an innate part of us-- a characteristic that some have, and I am perfectly comfortable with being motivated by different things - a warm summer's day, someone's blogpost about a fabulous adventure, a view of a snowy landscape, the sudden p and v of my children and a need to run and wander freely, whatever.

And here's what I know:

Inspiration comes from the outside. It can come from anywhere and everywhere.
It doesn't have to be fancy. Someone can mention "curtain rod" in a book and your mind wanders to a fabulous idea of using a curtain to make a puppet theater.

It's my job (as I have seen more of the world, and have a broader scope) to provide my children with Inspiration. Now it isn't left only to me, but particularly as we grow and learn naturally (educationally speaking) it's up to me to hunt and gather for them.

So.... again, the question.... is it also my job to say "Let's go"?
And, again, it comes down to paying particular attention, I think.

If the mood of the day (such as the day-before-yesterday) is one that says "Uh, no.... we're not fit for being in public today..." then we'd best cancel plans and stay home.
And if we've had a crazy busy few days, and the children have had a blast, but are now coming undone, then of course a day in front of the tellie might be just the thing to recuperate.

In light of "what I really want for my children" I can revisit yesterday's question of "Is it alright to urge them to do something they don't initially want to do?"

And then I can ask "Is urging one to stretch acceptable?"
I'm really comfortable with this idea. It feels freeing and strong. It feels right.

So I arrive to a similar conclusion... but one that feels more loving and liberating than yesterday's answer.

The difference between the pale bitterness of yesterday's resignment (ie my children losing the Joy of Discovery), and today's conclusion is authenticity and honesty.

It's in part the approach.
It is asking "then how about this?" to Trev's answer of "Aaaw, Mom, do we have to?"
It's asking "then what?" (and persisting until someone comes up with a happy solution) if not.
The answer is using an honest approach to his skeptical "no, thanks"... "Hey, Bud... remember the other thing that you love? I really think you'll like this one, too... how 'bout we give it a try? At least for a couple of minutes?"
The problem I had before is that I wanted to call a spade a spade, and asking or urging seemed and felt manipulative, and I may as well therefore call it Force. Coersion.
A bitter pill to swallow.

Now I've shifted slightly again, and am able to see that I was on the right track (as Sarah said) and that bringing true authenticity -much love- into it is the right thing to do, but, too, is the very important matter of leaving the Final Decision up to the children.
With no judgment or disappointment from me.

Love, love, love.
Only Love.


AND...
Thanks so much to those who responded to the last posts and helped me to work through this.
Much love to you.

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.

transition

Yup.
She's in transition.

While I intend to post about some of this on OLM (for reasons I'll give there), I have a need for breaking it down a bit more here, first. Processing, don't you know.

One thing brought me to (yet another) pause, and now three other related's have finally brought me to a screeching halt.

One) Little Son has not liked pretty much anything I've said or done lately. At least that's how it feels to me.

Two) My talk with Little Son last night.

Three) My talk with my husband last night, and hearing him say "I don't feel like my parents ruined my life."

Four) Hearing Kelli say "I always hated that about my mother. Whenever any little thing became hard in my life she was always there telling me to quit, why bother?"

I'm with it enough to know that if there is a perceived problem on my end (which shows up in frustration, anger, resentment, sass, :) etc. from my child) then something has gone very wrong. And of course it's my job to figure out what, and to repair the relationship.
Because supposedly I'm older and wiser.

The first one is pretty easy, and what I'll write about on OLM. Trev feels controlled. Whenever he's talking with his daddy about something, and if I pop in to say that he can't (or we can't, or we shouldn't) do something he either shouts "stay out of this" or something about it being a private conversation, or something similar. Yikes. I'm trying to help, and I'm making him feel resentful. Big, big trouble there.

The night before last and yesterday I had lots of time for thinking on things (Trev and Eric were gone skiing), and I had time to consider while I was smudging and sweeping those yuckies literally out the door of my home. (Think of it as a house blessing.)
Task one: completed. Now how to keep them out?

Control. Trev feels controlled. Being controlled is a feeling that does not jive with me even a little bit. So it's something that's fairly easy for me to recognize, and something I am eager to fix.
So, next step: Talk.
I wanted to make it clear from the get-go that I was giving him absolute free reign over his days. (Don't shudder, we're not so far off the bend that anything really destructive will come of it. He doesn't have that much to rebel against.)
So the first thing I said to him was "I want you to know that you can watch cartoons and play cartoon network games on the computer all you want."
"Thanks, Mom."
Yes, he plays there a lot, and yes, he has more freedom with his time/days/life than almost all kids. But that isn't the point. The point is he's unhappy, and doesn't trust his Mama.

..."I want to talk about asking you if you'd like to do stuff, still."
"Mom, I don't want you to ask me if I want to do stuff. I just want to be free to watch tv and play games and I'll come to you when I want to do something else."
"Well, that doesn't work very well, Son, simply because there are things that you don't know about. What I mean is, say you had never been to the museum. (natural history museums are among our very favorites) You've never been, and you've never seen one. How would you know to ask to go to the museum? See? It's my job to come up with cool things, because I've lived longer, and know about a lot more stuff like that."
He thought about it. "I still want to come to you when I want to do something else."
I knew it was a matter of trust. He wanted to get to the bottom of this, too, and figured if it ended here, it was going to be the same old, same old of late.
"So I can't ask if you want to do experiments, or anything?"
"No, I'll come to you and say 'I want to do a dna experiment today.'".
I knew exactly where he was going.
"How about this, Son... how about if I still come up with ideas, like going to the Aviary, and you are completely free to say, 'No thanks, Mom, I just wanna stay home today and watch tv.'? and I'll say "Okay, Bud, we'll stay home, then.' Would that work for you? If you were free to say 'no, thanks' without any pressure or hurt feelings from me? If I just said 'Cool,' if you didn't want to do something?"
"Yeah, that would be okay."
"So which one would you prefer, me not asking at all, or me asking and leaving the choice completely up to you, and me being happy either way?"
"The second one."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. You ask me if I wanna go to the Aviary, and I'll say, 'Mmmm, not today, Mom', and you'll say 'Okay.'. Unless I want to go to the aviary, of course."
I smiled at that. He had to be very clear that he wasn't locking himself into tv and cartoon network games for the rest of his life.
"Okay, Son. Then we're cool."

* * *
(continued February 4, 5:54am)

I prepared myself.
While I know my son well enough to know that cartoons forever isn't his style -he has too many other interests for that- I fully had to accept that if this is what happened (as maybe he needed to test me to see if I meant it, or revel in Just Cartoons for a while) I needed to not only not say anything - I was going to have to work hard to keep my attitude one of total acceptance. Indeed, even joyfully embrace cartoons.
Resenting and worrying could not even enter the picture a little bit.
I know he'd pick up on it.

Part two was having a conversation about this with Eric. Before and after.
I let him know what I perceived to be going on, he expressed some of his own concerns, and we talked about unschooling "worries".
Brilliant me told him that these worries were not exclusive to unschoolers or homeschoolers, but to All Parents Everywhere. We went on to expand on that for a while. Eric felt better. :)
I told him of how important I thought it was to let Little Son vent his emotions (and he does vent, believe me!) freely and openly.... that I didn't want him to feel ashamed and overwhelmed as I did and do.
And that's when he said "I don't feel like my parents screwed me up."
...
I paused at that.
Really?
It's possible to get through childhood feeling stable, and parents can still make mistakes and not screw up their kids? My friend Julie says much the same thing.
Two things happened.
One, it gave me hope (which I've had since Julie mentioned it to me). And two... I realized that there are different perspectives.
What I mean is... just because something that happened to me as a kid is something I am still trying to work through or recover from (not traumatic huge things) doesn't mean that my children will have the same thoughts and troubles with the same issues.
Huh.
That was a news flash to me.

And along those same lines, I read at Kelli's blog yesterday (Tuesday) morning about how she took her daughter to a swim meet, and sometimes her daughter before is nervous and upset, and she wants to say "We don't have to go if you don't want to," which is something I would and do say. Like when Trev is so upset with a game or something (he bangs and yells and screams "You stupid game!", and I tell him something like "If you're not enjoying yourself, then just walk away from it and choose something else."
Aaaaah. In other words, "If it's tough, quit."
Damn. Damn, damn, damn.
I was thinking Peaceful Solutions, and who the hell enjoys themselves in such a state? which is the reason I do not play video games. That, and they just don't appeal to me.
But guess what? Again!, announced for the Third Time, there's a different perspective.

Oof.

So it's been a day now, and the transition has been smooth.
Granted, I was busy yesterday with things other than the children-- but not one explosion, no remarks that voiced resentment.
And was Trev attached to CN all day? No, he wasn't.

'Course, that may change. It may change today. I'm thinking library and Fly Me To The Moon today at the planetarium, and it's quite possible that Little Son will say, "No thanks, Mom. I just wanna stay home. And watch tv."
And I'm practicing my smiling acceptance of that right now.
I'll say, and Be, and think, "Cool."
***

This isn't a matter of over indulgence, and me being wimpy or terrified of making my children unhappy.
It's about giving them what they require. Be that scintillating activities or peace and quiet to think, process, or rest.
It's about not missing demonstrations of hurt feelings and a relationship going awry.
It's about all things under the sun having a time, and me lettings Be when they need to Be.

I can't always see what's to become of a particular period. Much to my discomfort.
But I can trust my heart, trust in our love and enthusiasm for life, and trust my child.

And act when there's a call for action.

special is as special does

Sometimes I struggle a bit (maybe that means over-think) with the way we've chosen to live and Be. Different from most of society, I mean.
There's a subtlety that rests (and stirs) at the heart of it - that if you choose to bring and recognize Magic in your life Every Day -and sometimes every moment- then you have a life full of said Magic, and there's nothing left that's sacred or special.
Because it's all invited. The Extraordinary is invited to live and celebrate in the Ordinary.
Tea parties with fresh coffee cakes (and real sugar cubes and honey for tea) on a plain ol' Thursday afternoon, painting whenever and wherever one chooses, playdough at any time, not just once in a while when Mama can take the mess, games, computer games, cartoons, butterfly chases, water balloons, visits to museums, warm cookies..... it's all invited to live in our everyday days.

My problem -question- is the same as has always been asked, I guess: If every thing and every one is special, then can Special really exist?
And is there anything left to embrace as special or sacred?

It's a question of philosophy, I s'pose.
Am I alright with my children taking for granted their lives?
Cartoons any day of the week- not just on Saturday mornings? Candy on the counter? Free computer play? Pancakes or waffles with berries with freshly whipped cream whenever they request it?
Yesterday we played a math game with gumballs. Trev had asked if we could buy a big thing of gumballs when next we went to the store. "We have gumballs," I responded. "No we don't." "Yes we do." I knew full well he didn't know we had them - or we wouldn't have had them. The boy loves gumballs. Will eat three pounds in one day. I suffer a bit with this one. "No, we don't." He started to question mine and his convictions, and wondered if it's really possible that we indeed had some hiding somewhere. (Hiding in plain sight, they were.)
"Then where are they?" he asks with suspicion.
"Right up there..." I nodded to the shelf above the counter.
I handed him a few, and asked him if he wanted to play a numbers game with gumballs. He did.
So we got out the dice, and sat at the livingroom table playing - losing and gaining gumballs.

The question ran through my head later if I was manipulating my child. Was I using his love for gumballs to get him to practice addition and subtraction skills? Would this push him further away from wanting to learn, explore, and understand numbers, just for the joy of understanding?
I fretted for a while. One thing I've learned in this parenting thing, is you can infallibly find the answer you're seeking... If You Just Ask.
So I did.
As usual, I got around to the question slowly, so's not to encourage him to say what he thought I wanted to hear.
"Trev.... what are your very favorite things to do?"
"I like nature walks, and I like bike rides."
"What else?"
"That's it. That's all I like to do." I chuckle at this, because at the moment we have the worst air in the country, and playing and running outside is just not a good idea, and we've been inside, much to his disappointment. (We live in a high valley, and the polluted air gets locked in due to air pressure. We're expecting it to storm today, thank goodness, it will clear us out. And we'll be playing outside. Even in the rain.)
"Nothing else?"
"Nope. That's it, Mom."
"Well what about cartoons?"
"Oh yeah. I like cartoon network, and nature walks, and bike riding."
"And the computer?"
"Yeah. And my computer games."
"Well what about our science experiments we do, do you ever like those, or do you not like to do them?"
"Yeah, I love our chemistry experiments!"
"Anything else?"
"Okay, Mom. Here's my list. I like nature walks, and bike riding, and chemistry experiments, and having friends over, and playing at friends houses, and cartoon network, and the games we play..."
"What games?"
"The games that we make up."
"What games are those?"
"You know. Like the one we played today. With the gumballs."
"Oh... (looks down) You liked that game?"
"Yeah, Mom, it was great."
Suspiciously, now, "You liked the game, or you just liked the gumballs?"
"I liked playing the game. It was fun."
"Well, would you like to play it again? With sour patch kids, or something?" (This is the true test, because we often have sour patch kids in the house, and he has free access to them.)
"Yeah. That'd be fun."

Imagine that.

So we arrive to a place where I can say "It may not be special, but there is still the Joy of the thing."
And I'm okay with that.
It's related to my taking freedom and liberty for granted. I ask myself if my forefathers would want me to pine away with gratitude for them daily, or if they'd like for freedom and liberty to be such an intrinsic part of my life that it be the foundation of my every thought and breath. I believe they'd choose the latter. It's bigger, it's a much different experience from their own, and in that lies true Liberty.
'Tis the same for me, and my children.
I'd like for Magic and Happiness and Joy to be such a part of their lives that they know no other way. Sure, I'll get irritated when I ask Little Son to pick something up and in a grump he wails "Clean, clean, clean, that's all I ever do! All you do is make me clean!" and I may grit my teeth and be tempted to shout point out the Joy he is offered almost Every Blessed Minute Of His Life.

But when all is said and done, we are in pursuit of Happiness.
Truth and Peace in the Spirit, Wellness in the Emotions, Joy and Laughter in the Heart, and Curiosity in the Mind.

And that's special enough for me.

worries

First off, I begin this post at four-something a.m, so if it rambles or makes no sense we'll blame it on that. Agreed? (Even though very early morning is when I usually feel Quite The Thing.)

Let's see if I can make sense of this, now.

I was talking to my friend (my very gentle and smart friend) the other day. I was telling her that I was somewhat freaking about Math. Math, of all things!
Trevelyn's not doing any math. Trevelyn is not practicing any math. I'm worried about his math skills.
Now me being Me, I started to add things to it in my head. Things that didn't belong.
Things like "He's watching too much cartoon network!" "And playing so many games on cartoon network!" And even the dreaded "he can't possibly be learning anything!" :)
(lol - I'm an idiot, sometimes.)

So as I was talking to my friend, and admitting that I could logically see that he wasn't just watching cartoons (I do have OLM, after all), I was still somewhat panicking.
And I even said to her... "I know that he can learn seven or eight or even ten years of (school) math in a couple of months, but still!...."
(Further evidence of my obtuseness and refusal to see reason.)

Now let me even say here that one; Trev had a love affair with Cartoon Network about a year and a half ago. It lasted for about six weeks. And though I fretted and bit my nails about it, I didn't interfere. And guess what? After it was over, he turned off the television, looked up, and had a whooooole bunch of new vocabulary words, interests, and things he wanted to learn about.
Things I never would have thought to bring up, as they're not a part of my not-quite-still-thirty something-years of education.
And the second variable to this that my logical (and unschooling believing) mind tells me is that he had a long boycott of Cartoon Network (entirely his own idea, I had no opinion on the matter) not too long ago, and is just soaking it up because it's become interesting again.

As I was talking with my friend, I mentioned that I was really bothered that we didn't have our Math 1-2 game anymore. It was a huge hit with both Trev and I - a really fun game, and it taught concepts in a way that he easily understood. Fractions? Not a problem. Tens and hundreds? Check!
The last time we went to play this game, it wouldn't work. I uninstalled it, and fiddled with it, (both on mylaptop, and on the Vista desktop - where it had worked before, both), to no avail. So I assumed the disc was scratched or ruined. And I decided the other day (a day or two before my conversation with my friend) to try again. But I can't find it. Did it get broken, and we threw it away?

So since we love it - Trev really does, too - I was of a mind to replace it. And that's when the wigginess started to escalate. He doesn't wanna play JumpStart! (there is Math there, you know [rolls eyes at herself]) he's not doing things that I can cross of my Academia List! Which only exists in my Fearful imagination.
I also mentioned to her that I couldn't find his Star Wars Clone Wars leapster game. Which happens to be math-based. Which he also loves.

So, Gentle Friends... besides the fact that I'm mad (You're Quite Mad, you know, we like to say around here) we can conclude that the answer is always the same for me.... Resources.
When I look at it logically (I've finally come to the place where I can do that) and I ask myself "Do you want to make Trevelyn do math?" The answer is "Of course not."
Carried further:
Why not?
What would be the point?
Do you want him to want to do math, then?
Not particularly.
Why not?
And the now very logical and smart Me says "Because Math is just a part of the growing process. Making sense of the world. As he finds it useful, and as he is curious about things, he'll come to it on his own.
So where is Your responsibility here, or what do you do now?
I can make sure that we have a new copy of Math 1-2 soon (because he loves it). And provide him with other games. And make sure that we have lots of tools and interesting manipulatives at the ready - things that intrigue, excite, and enthuse us by discovery.
I can open the doors and windows wide, point out the way to interesting places and ideas and tools, and say "There." and "Here."
Here is the world. Just for you. I'm here to help as often and as soon as you need it. I do not doubt your capability, and I shall not limit you with my own judgments and limitations.
It's all here for you. Take it as you need it.

And I can mean it, and embrace it.
And return to the magic and joy.

the magic

I've been reminded (this morning and yesterday evening) that it's all about the heart's smiles, the delight, and the joy.
So that's what I'm focusing on today.
Paying particular and close attention to the joy and sweetness of my babes.

Pretty Snippets to follow.

15 Days: Resources

I was so busy, that I forgot to post!
But since it's technically four something -which to some can seem the-middle-of-the-night, I'm sneaking it in on the side.

Resources! I am so happy with resources.
Do you suppose that people are more creative today than at any other time?
On the one hand, we have television, and computer games, and stuff that can bzzzz us when we want to zone out, but on the other hand, we're exposed to So Much, and that so much can lead us to some really wondrous places.
Creativity doesn't come from nowhere. Nothing comes from no where.
Creativity comes from a spark. You read about something, or see something someone makes (online, often) and you get an idea to expand on it, or it reminds you of something you've been wanting to do.

While, as you know, we don't do "lessons and things" around here, yesterday we found joy in checking out the Earth Kids page for Thanksgiving.
Initially I told the children that when they were finished with what they were doing, I wanted to show them something.
After I gave them a rundown of what I could offer - interesting facts about turkeys, jokes, a Native American legend (which Trev loved), and crafts, etc - they started shouting what they wanted to see first.
There was a lot of joy to be had - not only in the name of the various websites, but in the way the day followed thereafter.
Weaving in and out of things, being stimulated and nurtured by things we've never done or seen before.
There were no expectations, nor a sense of obligation. Just "Here it is, let's have a look."

As I've said a million times, I'm so thankful to be living this life -- this wild unschooling life, with these wild unschooled children.
The resources we have at our fingertips are astounding, and seeing the magic happen day-in and day-out is a blessing indeed.

disorderly disorders

When we were at the farm a couple of days ago, there was a little girl, Kira.
She was five years old, and took to Trev right away, even though she kept saying "she", and Trev would say, "I'm a boy!, for the last time!" (Something he gets often. Even though if anyone looked past his hair, he clearly looks and acts like a boy.)
When we went over to the big climbing tree, she came too, with her Grandpa.
She was super cute! We enjoyed her company very much. Especially Trev.
After she had a bit of trouble with the tree, and kept going from place to place, figuring out where she could climb well, and wanting to be up where "she" was, I told her a true story.
"You know what, Kira? Last time we were here, Trev wasn't able to climb this tree nearly so well. He was getting kind of stuck, and not nearly so fast. I'll bet next time you come, you'll be better at it."
"Yeah! When I'm about ten, I'll be really fast!"
"Totally. By then you'll be fast as a squirrel, running all over the branches. And people will be like What was that? Was that a squirrel?"
"Yeah!"

A little while later we went back to feed the goats again. We had found some still juicy yellow leaves that the goats were particularly fond of.

Curiously, Kira's grandpa all of a sudden said to me, "Kira has functioning autism. Have you heard of Asperger's?"
"Yes."
"That's why she's so..." and waved his had vaguely over his head. (Not in an unkind way.) "She has people working with her all the time."
"We're homeschoolers!" I wanted to blurt out in response.

I'm still not sure what I meant by my Almost Confession...
I might have meant, We're homeschoolers - we don't judge people by such silly, boxed-in, schoolish standards.
Or - We're homeschoolers, we like to let people be themselves, and learn their own way.
Or - We're homeschoolers, is why we're different than others.

What I did say was, "She's just like mine, to me. They're emotional. Just like their mother."
What I hope he understood was "Not everyone is looking at you funny. Some of us believe in supporting children, even when they don't fit into neat boxes of stillness for six hours a day. Some of us believe we need to adapt to serve the children, not change the child. Some of us accept people and things the way they are. Some of us wouldn't dream of calling you names just because others think you're different."
Even if he didn't know it, hopefully he felt it.
Hopefully it lightens his mind for the future.

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 Inspiration

The last couple of weeks have been filled with Summery Goodness. We've had lots of time with friends - had dinners, and fireworks, barbecues, and lots of sunshine.
Dates have been made to start the homeschool groups (mostly with our unschooling friends) back up again - Mom's Night, the unschooler's meet-up, Art and Craft Circle, and Project Wild. We even have begun the steps to begin a Scout circle - I'm awaiting the paperwork for a SpiralScouts charter. Very excited about that.
School supplies are lined up shiny and so tidy in the stores. Offering so much goodness and freshness in the name of organization and new beginnings.
Friends send notes saying "I'm putting in an order for art supplies.... do you want anything?..." so we'll all get free shipping.
Which leads to online shopping for art supplies.
And then books.
And then science supplies.

So today I'm expecting a medium sized box of inspiration in the post.

We've ordered (well, I've ordered) petrie dishes and agar. And an owl pellet kit with extra pellets in case friends want to come over and explore with us. And a physics kit. And slide covers as well as bluing and eosin y for studying our own cells.

We are also expecting books - Aquatic Habitats, a math/building book about geometric concepts and experiments called Build It! Festival, a book on Chemical Reactions, Identifying Animal Tracks, and three little books about studying our (local) environment - One Small Square: Pond, One Small Square: Woods, and One Small Square: Backyard.

The babes' rooms are organized.
The zoobs are with the zoobs. The morphs are with the morphs. The cuisenaire rods are with the cuisenaire rods. The tangrams, the legos, the lincoln logs, and the gears are in the shoe boxes, coffee cans, or wicker boxes where they belong.

I am eager to go downstairs and reorganize and rearrange our shelves - making room for the new, and making sure everything that should be is accessible.
I'm anticipating excitedly going through toys (getting the children's permission) that have been outgrown or broken.
I'm thrilled about new books, new clay, new experiments, clean shelves and organized microscope slides.

I'm inspired.
Life is good.

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.

flotsam

I've got some stuff floatin' and knockin' about that I'd like to get through.
Sort of like flotsam surrounding me that I'd like to be rid of. :)

That whole bit yesterday (well, I wrote yesterday, but the events were a few days ago) got me thinking again about parenting, control, and respectful parenting (or ru) -- which is sometimes construed or judged to be neglectful. Once in a while it's even questioned by our Selves.
Not that we doubt it really, it's just one of those things that creeps up every now and again.

For me, the best place to begin is "What do I want for my child?"
Actually it can even have a much broader beginning than that - it can begin with "What is my role in this life? Where is my place on the planet? What do I offer my fellow man and the Universe?"
But, for me, at this time "What do I have to offer the Universe (ie How may I serve?) has much to do with parenting my children.
Still with me? :)

So, we arrive to "What do I want for my child?"

I think that we -as a Society- just don't ask ourselves this enough.
I think too many folks are just going through the motions.
They just do the day-to-day stuff simply for the reason that they're alive. Here.

Maybe that seems dismissive or doesn't seem to give people any credit - but really.

If people asked themselves "What do I want for my children?"
Wouldn't we all come up with pretty much the same answers?
We want them to be Happy. We want for them Loving Relationships. We want them to feel Success - which means we want them to feel competent, able, to believe in themselves.
There are variables, but I think much of it comes down to this.

I don't understand why people cannot reason that the things that they are doing are detrimental to their cause!
Badgering annoys people! It makes them tune you out. It is not communication! (The same goes for rote learning, by the way. But that's another matter. Hmmph.)
Controlling people does not teach them self control (and therefore guarantee they'll be upstanding members of society). If that were so, people would come out of prison healed, refreshed, and good citizens. They don't. They come out ill-prepared, lost, scared, confused, and for the most part in the first five minutes are in the same situation that got them sent there in the first place.
Threatening a child with harm (You'll cut yourself! You'll fall! You'll break your arm!") does not encourage them to tread cautiously.

Have you ever talked to anyone who just exudes love and patience and gentleness from their Being?
Never have I met someone like that who did not say "I had really loving parents." ie - they adored me, they were so gentle and kind, they understood me and loved me.

If you don't come from that, then you have to work very, very hard to get there. You have to heal yourself to get past hurts and scars.

I think that sometimes (in my own experience) it's not that we don't want a particular thing. Or even that we can't see that we're not going about achieving it in an efficient way. It's that we're just trying to stay alive. We get into a frantic Self Preservation mode. Our heads start swimming, we feel anger pulsing throughout our limbs, the noggin starts to boil, :), you know. (Well, maybe you don't. Maybe it's just me.) And all we can think is "Survive this moment."

But to me that's all the more reason to not pass the feelings on to my children. I don't want these same things to haunt them. I don't want their reactions to overwhelm them like my own do me.
I want differently for them.

If you want your child to be Happy - then encourage him to find his Happiness.

If you want your child to have Loving Relationships, then help her to understand that she is in every moment Worthy of Love.

If you want your child to feel Success -by his own standards- then raise him to feel confident in Who He Is. Enable him to Trust himself. Supply him with tools he'll need throughout his life to make it on his own. Help him to understand he is worthy and able.

If people actually thought about the way they were doing things, I think they'd see the ineffectiveness.

By encouraging a child to find his voice, by not crippling her tests of strength, by being a facilitator in his quest for learning, by doing your best to support Who She Is right this minute (which may change in the next minute) we're not neglecting, but enabling.

By having open dialog instead of issuing orders, we are communicating.
By not impeding - we are encouraging.
By not judging we are helping them to Find Themselves.

Isn't that what we want?

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.