Inviting Choices (and More Joy)

Denver the Noodle Monster

Denver does not want to do homeschool today. He told me last night, "I don't want to do homeschool. I don't like it." I didn't argue.

Denver is bright and curious. He cannot NOT learn. I think the only way to make him lose his love of learning is to force him to endure lessons-- kind of like the only way to make me stop loving brownies would be to force me to eat them even after I was full. I did not tell him this. I said "okay" and we went to bed-- or at least I did.

This morning, I asked him if he still wanted to go pick up his Piggy book from the library (what Denver calls the beginning reader book series by Mo Willems). "Yes," he smiled. "I still want to read my Piggy books."

"Okay," I smiled to myself. "Would you like to do our history project with mosaic tiles today, too?"

"Yes! I really want to do that."

"Okay," I said. "I'm making out today's schedule right now. Is there anything else you'd like to do for homeschool today?"

"I'm pretty sure I'll do some other stuff; I'm just not sure right now."

"Okay, Buddy."

Denver has been hiding from Mimi and acting out during her Spanish class. He crawls under the table when she asks him questions. He runs away. He says he does NOT plan to speak to Spanish people ever.

If I didn't know it before, I definitely know now that every child is different. Every child is inspired by different things and needs to be permitted to make different choices. My job is to support and nurture the boys' growth and learning in the way that best serves them. Too bad for me, but what the boys really want is nearly ALWAYS different than my ideas of what we should be learning and how we should be learning it. On this point, Denver has been and continues to be a wonderful teacher.

The Denver Delight



The Silly Guys at the pool.

 He sings loudly as I write this blog entry. He invents the lyrics and the tune as he sings. My guy Denver. This morning he sits at the homeschool table playing minecraft on the laptop computer and singing. Every few minutes, he asks me how to spell a word or demands that I come "LOOK!" at some new development.

I adore this child. He is so different than I am. He is a boy who usually knows what he wants and doesn't worry about hurting feelings in order to get it. Last night as we were cuddling and watching Smurfs, Denver said that when he grew up, he was going to have a hot tub. "Oh, that will be great," I said. "You'll be living with me, so I'll get to enjoy it, too."

"No," Denver said firmly. "I've changed my mind about that. I'm going to have my own house and the hot tub will be there."

Yesterday, I invited Denver's buddy, Alex, over to play for the afternoon. They went swimming. They played in the costume closet. They played minecraft, ate snacks, and pestered John Robert. In short, they had a ball.

The most interesting part for me is watching how hard Denver tries to accomodate Alex. If Alex wants to make 1,000 rules about a simple game, Denver agrees to them. If Alex doesn't want to play a game that Denver wants to play, Denver sets it aside and plays something else.

The only thing Denver refuses to do is compete against Alex. When Alex wanted to race against Denver to retrieve dive toys from the bottom of the pool, Denver refused. "We're on the same team," he insisted. So they raced the clock to see how quickly they could retrieve everything. Then they did silly jumps off the diving board and had me take pictures so they could see what they looked like. Big fun.

Denver prepares for a super spectacular jump!

Embracing Life Now :-)


After seeing this poster, I began thinking about all my school years when I heard teachers, parents, and other adults talk about "when you get out in the real world." I spent 21 years in school-- from kindergarten through a graduate program and a law degree. I was in my early 20's before I experienced the real world; and that's not bad, it was just my experience.

I do know that despite my good grades, I was unprepared for "life". I didn't know how to DO anything-- make a budget, earn a living, change the oil on my car, prepare a vegetable. I wasn't even sure I would enjoy the career I had trained so long to do. All I had done was learn "about" the career; I hadn't been allowed to really "do it" until I had my degree and passed the bar exam.

I do hope my children know more about "the real world" through homeschooling. Our "homeschool" begins at home with our family as the center; but homeschool is really just another way of saying "learning outside of the traditional classroom." It is also-- I hope-- a way of living now, following our interests now instead of at some distant point in time.

The boys have the opportunity to learn from people who are what they might wish to be. They can do that learning now-- whether it is talking to a physicist, taking a hike with a biologist, pursuing a sport, or working with an artist. We don't have to squeeze our living between the school bells and homework.

The laughter and shouting in the living room assures me that we are on the right track. With homeschool, we don't postpone joy. We embrace life now.

The Code of Denver



When asked for three rules
our family should follow,
Denver came up with these!



Wild Girl Time



Lady runs in wild abandon

Most people dread Monday morning, but I cannot wait. After a weekend of being nothing but "Mom", and doing all the title entails-- welcoming children for sleepovers and swimming, constant kitchen duty, picking up shoes, caring for laundry, making spaghetti, pb&j sandwiches, and generally not doing anything that I would choose to do if I were alone-- after all of this, Monday morning calls to me like a moon to the howling wolf. It is time for Wild Girl.

In just a few hours, I will awaken, throw off my mommy pajamas, and pull on my running clothes. Lady and I will run at least ten miles tomorrow before the boys are out of bed. We cannot wait. It is our Wild Girl time. We might see deer, geese, hawks, or even an owl out past bedtime. Dreams and ideas will swirl unhindered in my mind. Lady will run beside me-- nose twitching and tongue hanging out like a ham. We cannot wait.

Well, that's not quite true. Right now, Lady is sound asleep near my feet; her legs up in the air like a dead bug leaning against the wall. She is snoring. So perhaps we approach the night before a run slightly differently. Nevertheless, tomorrow morning for a couple of hours we'll each embrace our secret identities-- as Wild Girls! 

Ideas Running Wild

Shaw and Spencer carefully build their Marble Run

Shaw and Spencer clamber around the house like puppies, both talking at once, gesturing to one another, saying, "Hey! I've got an idea!" They spend most of their time building things-- using anything from blocks to boxes and sheets.

After a Lego building marathon, swimming, and snacks, they found the Marble Run. An hour later, they just as suddenly ran off and left it; no doubt it was just after one of them said, "Hey, I've got an idea!"

The Sweetness of an Ice Cream Social




The Old Church in Oxford as painted by a local artist.

 

It was an ice cream social in front of the Old Church on a surprisingly cool August evening. Mimi and Paw Paw wore their Lions Club vests and dished out ice cream to the happy crowd-- my children among them (more than once!). I saw people I hadn't seen in years, and we hugged and made plans to see each other again soon.

There was a bluegrass concert inside the church, but the boys and their friends chose a touch football game outside instead. I sat on the stone fence and watched the comedy unfold.

When everyone was grass stained and sweaty, we packed up our friend, Cameron, to spend the night and toodled home. A sweet time. Satisfied smiles-- with chocolate syrup around the edges.