I Saw Something Nasty In the Woodshed (or) A Homily

Well, maybe I did.
We'll see.
I'm not yet sure what its name is. Maybe Back To School Worries and Livin' R.U.

Two years ago last month I knew homeschooling was it for us. It was an easy decision- charters were hard to get into, my sisters homeschooled, my child had never been to daycare. Three months later, in November, I joined Always Unschooled.
As soon as I heard of unschooling (I studied it in the fall months), I knew that it sounded right.
But of course I had some things to work through. I wrote a few months back on deschooling, and what that process meant for me.
It's interesting to me that I've drifted over a few blogs lately that are expressing doubt and fears - it's Back To School time. This is one of the problems that I have with schools, and school thinking. We've done it for so long that it has managed to replace our own good judgment, and it has instilled itself in our brains as simply The Way.
It's merits are not usually questioned, as it is just something that Must Be Done. There are problems with the system, of course, but nothing that a bit more money won't fix.

I have seriously conflicting thoughts about school and the ru life.
I believe in freedom. That means for all.
I believe that the earth's souls should be allowed to fulfil their truth in freedom. It occurs to me that that includes folks that wish to live in misery or under another's tyranny or under orders or following along with what their society dictates. Thus my dilemma. Freedom includes freedom to live in bondage. Complex, if you see what I mean.

In the matter of living ru - I get a bit more... huffy.
No, I'm not perfect at it. I am an extremely emotional person, and I holler sometimes. I am sinfully impatient. I am bossy by nature.
But I really, really believe that living respectfully with children - ru- is the right thing to do.
I mentioned to Evie yesterday (during a correspondence regarding a comment on her post) that for me it's almost like the beginning of a revolution.
A hundred years ago women were afforded no where near equal rights. While it certainly isn't equal today, either, in most parts of our society at least they (we) are not regarded as chattel to be owned, patted on the head and patronized. Maybe by a few idiots, but that's their truth for this time around, I spose.
I think that looking upon children should be viewed with the same eye. To think that we can take a child and make him into what we dream for him to be is erroneous. If that were true, and a child had no thoughts (outside his parents) of his own, then we (the parent) would never come across opposition. The child would just say "Yes, ma'am", and that would be the end of it.
One of the things that really infuriates me (as Evie now knows) is the belief that children should be controlled.
Parents that insist that their children save their allowance for school supplies and school clothes. Or dictate at all how that allowance should be spent and saved. Or make them save their money for a bike if they want one (provided the family can afford it). Pssh.
It infuriates me that parents have an "I owe you nothing" mentality, and that the child must work for her possessions.
Listen, folks. We all knew going in that "children are expensive". Eric and I lived together for eleven years before we had a baby. We were terrified that we couldn't afford it.
Eventually we jumped - and knew that we would find a way.
And we have. We're not wealthy people. We have a decent (but fifty years old) house in a good part of town. Eric makes a good living for us - but he is the only one bringing in a significant amount of money.

After I cleaned up the playroom and sorted everything, last night I was thinking "Wow, this is a really great house for a kid to grow up in. We've got just about everything." And I was proud of it, and happy for my children. Don't get me wrong - we don't have boats, and jet skis, and motor cycles, and battery powered hummers for the children to drive, but we have a variety of paints, and boxes for make believe, and legos, puzzles, a kitchen with wooden toys and pots, books, books, and more books - everything from Martin Luther King Jr. to constellations to the Human Body to the deep sea, and lots of fun play equipment (including bicycles!) outside.
Do I begrudge my children these things? No way. I figure I owe it to them. It comes with the territory.
There are certain things I owe to my children because I am their Mama. A happy childhood is one of them. Tools to aid them in imagining and growing. Nourishment, of all kinds. Safety. Joy. A healthy environment. Respect for Who They Are.

As you can see, while I believe in freedom, I also have very specific ideas on how a child should be treated. I believe they need room to grow - freely . Unconditional love. Unconditional liking, even. Respect. I believe they should be treasured and accepted.
Indeed, I believe it's the answer to most of the world's problems.

Back to the nasty in the woodshed....
I had a bout with panic for a minute a few months ago. Its name was Cartoon Network. It invaded our hearts, minds, and home for several weeks.
I got reeeeeal diligent in stocking our Learning Cabinet. (which we call the shelves in our entertainment center in the livingroom - where I keep some supplies handy.) Strewing. Cuisenaire rods, tangrams, library books, legos, dominoes, pick-up sticks, paints, etc. Swapped and traded once a week or so.
I got all terrified after hearing Naomi Aldort (whom I highly respect) say something about children's brain development and the repercussions tv had on it. I didn't freak, and turn it off, but a couple of times I had to sit down and have a talk with Little Son and say "Trev, I'm concerned about this..." and he'd play for a minute, and go back to the tv. Days eventually turned in to a couple of months, if I remember right.
I bit my nails.
"Wanna read something with me?"
"No thanks."
Hmm.
"Hey, wanna build with dominoes?"
Sometimes it was "sure!" and sometimes it was "nah".
Strew, strew, strew. I was nowhere near where I was last fall, when I was really quite compelling in my ideas and suggestions. But I was worrying, and I was offering.

I mentioned to Eric (dh) a few days ago the things that have been happening lately.
I have not traded out that cupboard in months. (you might have noticed it's chaos in some of our pictures in the livingroom on olm.)
There is no need.
There is so much learning diversity in this house these days. Every day different tools and toys are brought out by the children. And books. Especially books. For about six months there my children had no interest in books. It layed me out for a while. There were lots of other things going on, so I wasn't panicking, but I was more than a bit concerned when my son told me "Books are so boring! It's much better to see the moving pictures on tv!" whoof- Stagger, stagger, stagger goes the mother, clutching her chest to pull out the knife.
But I didn't press it.

Last year at this time, I was much in the same place as some other unschoolers seem to be finding themselves in this year.
And I didn't like it. I wanted desperately to trust, and to know that everything would turn out all right.

Now our lives seem so full - bursting and brimming with discoveries and explorations.
I can't say if it's me and my perceptions that have changed - though I am sure I have grown more confident and at ease with our ways- or if it's that my children are just a dozen times more sparkly.
I think it's probably that I have no attachments, or (hardly) any expectations, and that we are free to pursue our happiness, and that I've come to a place that I believe and trust in "learn in our own way and time, the things that we love." (Ren Allen)
How great is that?
After these almost two years, I'm finally coming to a place of trust.
I'm so thankful to be in a place of appreciation and celebration instead of attachment and fear.

Yes, there was something nasty lurking in the woodshed.
But I went out there and bravely flung the door open wide, and then just walked away.

Gratitude: Pretties

I'm grateful for pretty things.

Like early this morning when I hung out my whites, and the new sun was still shining through the east, and coming through the tree, all mottled and sparkly-like onto the greens left vibrant by the storms of the last couple of days.

The air is cool, the curtains are flowing, and early morning life is pretty.

I'm grateful.

Sisters Speak

I read on Boho's a little over a week ago, this message-
"...Totally how church should be. At one point, towards the end, a woman got up to sing a beautiful, heart~soaked song that had this message:"When you feel you've done all you can... just STAND."

Yes. Yes.

And then tonight on Soule Mama I read-
"scene from the end of a day -
the favorite, softest summery cotton pajama pants - slipped on just as the sun sets :: a few more striped rocks added to the pile from the day's adventure :: the splashing, laughing, tired sound of 'three soules in a tub'..."

...and honest to goodness, it made me want to weep.
Not out of longing, or sentimentality, but for very practical reasons.
I try to recognize and acknowledge the beautiful (but buried in ordinary) treasures of the day. No doubt about it.

What I found so affecting were two things close to my own heart lately - today's cool weather - so fine that I lounged in my cropped salmon pink cotton knit pj pants all day, and even moreso - the mention of "three Soule's in a tub".
Unremarkable to you, but not so to me.
It reminded me that in real life, in very real childhood, it is quite possible that loving, carefree, and natural children can interact in a "home" environment, and "three in a tub" is not of itself cause for worry and heartache.
And now having said that, I am hereby done with these particular worries, and am done with, Once and For All, this particular subject.
I am well rid of this subject.
I'm not slamming the door violently, and going out kicking and screaming.
But the whole thing really shook me and my perceptions. Because of innuendos or others prejudices, I questioned innocence and it made us vulnerable to others judgments.
No more.
I am now free of it.
We are free.

#76

Shout out "Wa-hoo!" in glee and utter abandon.

I said before that I was gonna wait for a bit more... MORE of one.

Last night as I was leaving to pick up Eric (dh) from work, the wind kicked up so hard! I found out this morning that it was about 60mph, which is pretty good for these parts.

"Waaaaaahoooooooooo!" I shouted. I love wind. I mean, I really, really, love it. Dh hates it (he is a fisherman and now also rides a bike to work) and I always take personal offense to his "Damned wind" comments, as much as I do his "damned hippies" comments.
I then shouted it again just for good measure.

I grew up (early childhood, anyway) in Oklahoma, tornado territory. I like dark, dark storms. I remember waking up in the middle of the night when I was a kid (someone would be stirring, for some reason) and it would be pitch black - no street lights, really, back then, and least in the neighborhoods - and I felt so snug, and secure, and safe, and full.

Hurricane winds. Black as pitch nights. Howls so deep that you wonder if your house will stand. Skies so dark at three o'clock that you can't tell if it's a.m. or p.m. Thunder rolling. Lightning crashing.
Strange, maybe, but for me? It's all music.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the earth's demonstrations are a match for my own sometimes volatile thoughts and feelings.
Usually we don't hear, see, and feel the earth all at once, but when you walk outside, and it is demonstrating these powers, you feel it. It takes you out of yourself, and carries you away into It. Majestic. All consuming.
All the way to your soul.

Probably many folks won't understand it. It doesn't matter. It's enough that I was able to feel that wind, be whipped and bent by it, wonder if I was going to be carried away, and I was able to shout with glee and utter abandon, "waaa-hoooo!"
And I meant it.

This post is related to Joyful Quest: 103 in 861, which began here.

Gratitude

I don't have Julie's gorgeous towering forest, but I have these beauties.

September 5

Wow, it's been three days?
Huh.
Must've got kidnapped by aliens. Or entered the faery ring again.

Not much here! Just spring cleaning and playing.

The weather lady has promised storms and a temp cool off of twenty degrees today! Won't that be nice.
I'll write later today!

Gratitude

The color is off. My carpets are not gray, but a pale oatmeal.

The afternoon sun was shining on them at the time.

It doesn't matter. They're not sticky.

Perhaps this gratitude post seems shallow, or silly. Not to me.

I am ever-so-grateful to have my carpet shampooer out of the shop and the repairs paid for.

One of those things that sticks on your mind until you get it done.

And stuck to your feet, as the case may be.

I'm grateful for...

Are those fairy wings on the back of that child?