Nothing goes as planned...



Denver and Spencer take turns being doctors.



Our days look nothing like the organized plan set out in my Homeschool Organizer. Mutiny sets in nearly every day. Surprise trips with Dad. Snow days. Snow men that need to be saved by storing them in the freezer. Surprise fascination with castle building instead of history class. The list goes on.

Yet somehow it all works out beautifully. Denver told me he loved physics yesterday. He is suddenly reading quite well. All the boys are done with the curriculum for their grade level and it's only the end of January. John Robert tried very hard on the SAT last Saturday and everyone loved the surprise snowfall. Nothing goes as planned. Sometimes it's better!



At the High Museum with the boys.
Photo by John Robert





Denver enjoys building castles.

 

Spencer is overjoyed by the snow!





Denver prepares for a snowball fight!

Even John Robert loved the snow!

Spencer and Denver with Mini Snowman--
who now resides in our freezer for safe keeping!

The boys enjoy a new board game
from friend Quinn.

Strewing their Paths and Getting Out of the Way

Learning about Pythagoras
and math's relationship to music

Denver's fascination with Clone Wars

has led him to want to read the books.

One of the many beauties of homeschooling is also one of the most humbling. . . Learning doesn't always require a teacher.

In graduate school, there was a lot of lipservice paid to the idea of "teacher as facilitator." I loved the idea of assisting students in their own learning, but I never had the opportunity to actually practice that idea until I began homeschooling.

The boys seem to learn nearly non-stop, and much more easily and happily than I'd ever imagined. The key . . . and this is a hard lesson for a teacher to grasp . . . the key is letting the boys lead the way. My job is not standing in front of them asking questions, but strewing lovely learning opportunities in their path and then getting out of the way until they have a question for me. I am their support staff.

For instance, last week I checked out a math dvd called Donald in Mathmagic Land. It introduced many intriguing and complex ideas about math-- fibonacci numbers, golden rectangles, square roots, the ideas of Pythagoras. In a typically teacherish way, I decided that whether they liked it or not, they were going to sit down and watch this video because it would be good for them.



Denver loves to discuss the Civil War
and the different strategies each side used.



The dvd came home with us and we got busy with other things. A week later, the dvd was due, and I hustled the boys into the living room to watch it before we took it back to the library.
"Oh, I love that one!," Denver exclaimed.
"What?," I asked. "You've already seen it?"
"Yes, it's great. I watched it a couple of days ago when you were gone," Denver replied. "Let's watch it again."
So we all sat there and watched the dvd that they had watched for fun and that I had been planning to use as a math vitamin (because it's good for you). To my delight, the boys talked about the different ideas-- what they understood and what they didn't. I didn't interfere.

Why did I feel I had to force that on them? Isn't it wonderful that to them it was like eating candy?

Similarly, the boys explore history by playing Civil War. Spencer and John Robert have read and listened to many books on the topic, and Denver pays close attention.



Spencer, Denver, and friend discuss the Civil War.



They explore futuristic ideas through Star Wars the Clone Wars books and videos. Denver found Clone Wars books and said he really wants to learn to read like his brothers so he can read those books. Meanwhile, they learn in their own ways.





Denver Does it Again



Denver chose to read this funny book
about an optical illusion.



He surprises me. Every day. About 75% of his surprises are wonderful. Yesterday was a good example. Denver read to me. Unprompted. Unasked. He just picked up an interesting looking book, brought it into the kitchen, and began reading aloud. Although he became frustrated halfway through and asked me to reread the entire book aloud to him, I was amazed and again humbled by my boys' motivation to learn when they are ready.

Because his two older brothers read often and well, I sometimes forget that Denver is younger and it is normal for him to still be struggling with reading. Because we are homeschooling, I feel responsible and embarrassed when Denver announces to the world (or more importantly, his father and grandparents), "I CAN'T READ." He makes this announcement regularly. Does he do this just to take the pressure off? Does he believe "reading" means being able to read as well as his brothers? Because he can read. His standardized test showed him to be reading at a third grade level.

Still, it's helpful to remind myself that John Robert-- a devoted bookworm who sleeps in a bed full of books-- could barely read more than his name when he was seven. John Robert has often told the story of his first day in first grade. The teacher passed out a worksheet with words to read. He knew NONE of them. Not knowing the procedure in a public school classroom, John Robert got up and walked around the room asking other students to read the words and trying to memorize them.

So Denver surprised me again. A good surprise. Not only is he learning to read-- but he is learning to LIKE it!

A Blustery Day






Denver quickly demonstrates how to count, add,

and subtract by tens.



Spencer enjoys creating optical illusions.





Some days we are caught off guard and carried away by laughing winds. Today is such a day.

This morning while I drove to the library with Spencer, Denver, and textbooks in tow; John Robert stayed home to work on chores, algebra, and SAT prep. "Yeah, sure," I thought. More likely, he'll go back to bed. Spencer was in a foul mood and Denver took every opportunity to announce that he "hated homeschool." Grumble . . . sigh . . . and just keep going.

At the library, we managed to turn things around. Denver did his homeschool easily and well. He told me he would prefer to learn to read on his own and that he was sure he could do it. I agreed, but insisted that he show me a bit of his skill. He read five sentences and then announced, "That's enough. I love it, Mom, really. It's fine; but I'm done." He gathered his work, handed it to me, and walked off to see the librarian about a computer.

Spencer had been looking and thinking about optical illusions. I brought a book from home for him. It was filled with projects for making your own optical illusions. He took to it like a fish in water. Following complicated directions for over 30 minutes, he created a labyrinth within a piece of folded paper. He was so overjoyed by his success that he remained happy and carefree for most of the day. He did his math effortlessly and then read books.

Arriving home for a late lunch, I was surprised to see John Robert's SAT book open. He had been working on the math portion of the exam. On the office computer, I saw that he had been reading about Pythagoras' theorum. To top it off, he had managed to do three loads of laundry.

After lunch, the boys surprised me by wanting to play outside with John Robert's new kite. They were very excited by the 20+ mile an hour winds. I was less thrilled; it was below freezing outside.

To everyone's mutual delight, the boys went to the horse pasture and flew John Robert's seven foot shark kite for over an hour and a half. By all accounts, the endeavor was a huge success. When they finally came home red-cheeked and smiling, I got to hear all about it over hot chocolate and snacks.

A blustery day. Laughter in the wind.



Walking into the Mysterious Mist

If I am gentle and attentive, Spencer reveals the wonder of his imagination.

I hug him as he walks past me in the yard. “What can I do for you?” I whisper as I hug him. “Let me walk through this mysterious mist,” he replied. And I do.

And he walks through the fog made by the dryer as it blows hot air outside through the dryer vent.

Togetherness for Christmas

It was a wonderful holiday. My best friend spent Christmas with us. John was home. The boys recieved a bounty of gifts, and everyone is healthy. But as we ate, drank, and danced around the house, I couldn't help noticing that among the medly of Christmas tunes in our house, I occasionally hear lines like-- "and Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again."

That is not the case here, though in all honesty, there is a lot of noise. Sometimes the noise is happy; sometimes less so. The living room is generally a wreck and the stuffing is coming out of the couch. The front door is set with land mines of little boys' shoes resting at odd angles near (but not in) their carefully designed shoe cubbies. Nevertheless, I cannot imagine ever wanting to send the boys off to school.

If there is one gift that homeschooling has given us it is time together. Unlike so many families who see each other only a few hours between work, school, homework, dinner, and bedtime; we are together most of each day. We know each other's moods. We know how to get along with one another-- though we don't always succeed. We learn to laugh with each other and support one another. The love and patience I see between us (most of the time!) is all I really wanted for Christmas. We are so blessed.

It's a balancing act.

Denver completes a new puzzle.

Denver enjoys his new medieval history game.




Spencer and Denver enjoy a frosty day of ice skating.

 

A math lesson with toothpicks turns into art class.
Spencer created an alien invasion.

John Robert sweeps leaves off the roof. 
He has become ever more helpful to the family.



Sometimes things fall apart.





My Best Friend.

Spencer and Shaw delight in the

Hurricane Simulator at Game Time.



Merry Christmas!