OMG what is that? My baby has been napping for the past hour and the older kids were entertaining themselves (except for one tushie that needed to be wiped). I was not rushing to do chumash with 12 year old, I was not hustling anyone to do schoolwork or finish something or other that is hard to do with an active toddler. (The chicken in Moana is clearly modelled after a toddler: same freak outs, same ridiculous repetitive behaviors.) And all of sudden I find myself finally calling a handyman to install the blinds before too many neighbors diplomatically suggest that we do it for our own good. And I'm making lasagna noodle roll-ups with tuna and spinach, using up leftovers. And I'm getting on IKEA home planner to figure out how to fit in a few more kitchen cabinets while thinking that maybe I should look into design or architecture classes. Is there a market for 40-year-old architects? And I finally threaded the washed 3 year old's car seat after a too-close encounter with raspberry jelly. The wipes did not cut it, so it had to be washed. Pesach came early, and I did it. And I'm thinking what else can I do with the kids around their 3 pm dentist appointment: drop off DVDs at the library because there is a branch not far from the office, stop by Aldi, run to IKEA to replace a vital screw that $%#$& movers did not put into the bunk bed? I did not realize that 10 yo telling me about his fear of the whole thing crashing down was not based on overreaction, but on solid engineering reality that a certain amount of supports is needed for the top bunk.
And I finished two books this past week: "Hillbilly Elegy" and "Run" by Ann Patchett. I cannot recall what was the last impactful book that I read before these two.
My time is slowly coming back to me. My time can also be snatched at any minute by a baby awakening from her nap, spilling pasta all over the floor, dumping cups of water, just screaming to be held. My time is also carved from the hours previously spent homeschooling. There is a misconception that unschooling means not doing anything with the kids, so why are the moms complaining that they are so busy? However, when you unschool, you are still in the picture, still available to answer questions, help with projects, do research, drop everything to read, etc. I am not currently unschooling. I am letting the older kids marinate in their own juices while I go and do my own thing. It is not clear-cut, as 10 yo, after this morning marinade, came to inform me that he and his two older siblings are about to produce Illiad , but a Wild West version. Ok, kids, I can write this down as an educational activity. I can boast about it: hey, my kids know enough about both to synthesize their own mashup. But I cannot call it unschooling, as I am refusing to participate more than a spectator.
Am I too high-strung to even unschool? Am I too controlling? Too worried about the outcome? Do I have too few resources, too few other adults who can spell me for a bit as the adult on duty? I don't know if I failed my kids by sending them to school, failed the ideals of homeschooling, failed myself. I do know that we, as a family, are ready for a new chapter. 12 yo is starting in a week and he is eager to have friends, hang out with friends, do things with friends, be in a class with friends. 10 yo came to terms with his new school reality. 6 yo is happy to have her girls back. And I am grateful for renewed energy and renewed ability to dream. I do wish so badly that my dreams involved homeschooling, spend long intense periods of time with the people that I birthed, educating them, learning alongside them. Right now, that is my fantasy. Right now, I need my space. I wish I did not have to carve time out for myself. I wish there would not be implied violence to time, but a peaceful flow.
Showing posts with label unschooling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label unschooling. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
not good enough
I'm taking my kids to the zoo
Because it is finally sunny
Because tomorrow is a school tryout day
Because soon I will no longer be homeschooling.
We are going there quickly
Spontaneously
So that we will all properly miss this time
Of freedom to get up and go.
As I tug on jackets
And pack up snacks
Ignoring academics
And Torah learning
The words of my upbringing
Pound through my head
Like train wheels:
Not good enough not good enough not good enough
Because it is finally sunny
Because tomorrow is a school tryout day
Because soon I will no longer be homeschooling.
We are going there quickly
Spontaneously
So that we will all properly miss this time
Of freedom to get up and go.
As I tug on jackets
And pack up snacks
Ignoring academics
And Torah learning
The words of my upbringing
Pound through my head
Like train wheels:
Not good enough not good enough not good enough
Friday, October 14, 2016
Indian consulate and Shemitta
We were passing an Indian consulate this afternoon when 12 yo asked me what is a consulate. I explained that it is an official representation of a country on another country's soil and the consul is the person who can conduct his country's business. I also mentioned my favorite fact (learned from my father) that a consulate is like a small piece of India right here and the laws of United States do not apply inside it. 12 yo wondered why there is a consulate here, why not just in DC, and how many more Indian consulates are there in the US. I told him he can look it up later. I also said that we live in a big enough city that this is probably a regional consulate. I mentioned that there is probably an Israeli consulate here too, or maybe in Miami. (I am not sure). Then he asked me whether the land of the Israeli consulate is the same as the land of Eretz Yisrael. I asked whether he meant halachically and he said, yes. I laughed, come on, it's a legal technicality, it would not affect halacha. He launched into what if Israeli consulate were to grow produce on its roof, would it be subject to the laws of shemitta? I retorted, of course not! He set up a precedent: the land conquered outside the boundaries of Eretz Yisrael still has to observe shemittah as long as the land within Eretz Yisrael is within Jewish possession. By this point, I realized that he might have a case, so I suggested he ask a knowledgeable rabbi.
This is unschooling in action. This interaction happened because we were both in the car, in good mood, he was next to me, he was looking around instead of being lost in an electronic device or a book, and he had prior knowledge to apply to a little tidbit that I supplied. Sometimes I feel like we get so little "work" done. Then I need to be reminded that my most important goal is to produce thinking human beings, who can converse and be open to learning. For that to happen I need these small casual spontaneous interactions.
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Gemara for 12 yo
After a lot of hand-wringing, phone calls, e-mails and just things falling all over the place. I signed up 12 yo for online school for Judaics. He is in 7th grade, where he is supposed to be age-wise. He specifically asked for learning with other kids as opposed to one-on-one, but he did not want to go to school. The program is four days a week for two hours each day, and it is fully interactive: he gets to see the teacher and other students, learn bechavruta, ask and answer questions in real time, get assignments and chat with others. The catch is that it is from 11 to 1, smack dab in the middle of the day.
Here is the funny part: the administration originally did not want him in this class because he had no formal gemara learning. First I agreed with them, then we realized that the other level is too low for him, so I insisted that he attend this class with his peers. In the back of my mind was an ongoing buzz of what am I going to do with a child who will be handicapped by a lack of gemara skills? Will this approach of not pushing and introducing gemara haunt us? Now in his class, during the second week I got an email from the teacher that he is planning on having my son and his chavruta do a separate assignment since his gemara skills are on a higher level than the rest of the class. I giggled: how can a child who spent maybe six hours formally studying gemara have more advanced skills than the boys who have been studying it for the past two years? Perhaps all the hours he spent poring over Koren Bavli in shul paid off. Perhaps he is naturally brilliant. Perhaps he can pull a fast one on the teacher.
Perhaps our laid-back approach (not quite unschooling) is not so full of glaring educational holes.
Here is the funny part: the administration originally did not want him in this class because he had no formal gemara learning. First I agreed with them, then we realized that the other level is too low for him, so I insisted that he attend this class with his peers. In the back of my mind was an ongoing buzz of what am I going to do with a child who will be handicapped by a lack of gemara skills? Will this approach of not pushing and introducing gemara haunt us? Now in his class, during the second week I got an email from the teacher that he is planning on having my son and his chavruta do a separate assignment since his gemara skills are on a higher level than the rest of the class. I giggled: how can a child who spent maybe six hours formally studying gemara have more advanced skills than the boys who have been studying it for the past two years? Perhaps all the hours he spent poring over Koren Bavli in shul paid off. Perhaps he is naturally brilliant. Perhaps he can pull a fast one on the teacher.
Perhaps our laid-back approach (not quite unschooling) is not so full of glaring educational holes.
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Just what he needed
Do you know who's thriving at home so far? My three-year-old. He potty trained and having a potty available to use as necessary is what did it. He naps as he needs, just goes and tucks himself in and then comes out when he's awake and ready to come out. He spent close to an hour every day painting with watercolor. I just need to get him water and close the door to the sunroom. He has been painting sheet after sheet, mixing colors, using different brushes, making up stories about his creations. Then he cuts them up, tapes them, modifies them further.He has been playing with Cliks: building swords and guns of all kinds, imagining things, creating whole worlds. He is all about weapons and shooting and fighting, yet he's extremely mellow to his younger sister. This is a healthy release of aggression.
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| He made a cockroach |
We've been to the zoo and aquarium and he loves the ocean pop-up book. He keeps asking to go back. He wants to go to the park or hike trails. He often tramps around outside our large yard, digging in the dirt, finding bugs and other treasures. He rides his trike down the path full speed.
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| At the zoo |
Childhood is short. Childhood can also be easy and not require much. I forgot how much I love this stage, when they are old enough to talk and say the darnest things (Mommy, can I help you make coffee cause I Love you). They are still little, but they can already do things for themselves. They do not have an attitude yet, but the personality is there. I am pleased to have this child back at home with me.
Monday, June 6, 2016
A day trip to Chattanooga aquarium
I had all the kids home with me last week. We were talking about different things to do and Chattanooga Aquarium came up. We have been there once, almost four years ago, and I have much fonder memories of it than of our local overpriced and super-commercialized aquarium.
I brought an umbrella stroller for the baby, a backpack cooler with lunch for 12 yo to carry, and a diaper bag. When we got to Chattanooga, we had lunch first and then entered the first building of the aquarium. I kept on thinking about the gorilla incident and the angry chorus how animals should not be displayed. And then I saw how much my younger kids, 6 yo and 3 yo, who have not been to the zoo in the past year, or any other place with animal exposure, picked up from seeing live birds, fish, and mammals. How can one teach a 3 yo to be brave enough to plunge his hand into cold water and pet a stingray? How can I give my daughter the experience of discovery that stingray feels like jello and she can reach in and touch it? How can they learn what a butterfly walking across one's face feels like? How else my 3 yo will discover excitedly that penguins "fly" underwater? That he can use two fingers to feel the scales of a cornsnake?
Before we headed back, the kids asked about Ben and Jerry's corner store right next to the parking garage. I said that I will take a look at their prices. When you have five kids, getting everyone a scoop gets expensive very quickly, not to mention that we already spent money on gas and parking and admission (technically membership since I am planning to get there again). When I ducked into the store ( more accurately, as we spilled into the store) and I saw their prices, I felt ready to leave. Enter 12 yo, the rationalist: "If I split a cup with my brother, and sister splits a cup with 3 yo and you get a small cup for yourself, it is much cheaper than getting everyone a scoop". "Yes, we all all ready to share". Ok then, The older boys ordered their cup, but 3 yo, spoiled by getting his own (free) baby cone at local Bruster's was not inclined to share. So he dropped on the floor, kicking and screaming that he wants his own. The beauty of having so many kids is that it is no longer mortifying. I knew that either he will stop yelling soon and chooses to share, or he will continue yelling and I will take him outside the store without ice cream. Knowing this child, I was betting on the first. Sorry, patrons, but I had to pay for our treat. By the time I paid, he calmed down and chose to sit next to his sister.
So this morning I woke up (after the baby has been sleeping through the night for the past week) and when one of the boys asked whether we can drive to Chattanooga today, I said: "Why not?" And just like that, we had breakfast, packed up lunch and a diaper bag, and set out. By "we" I mean myself and five kids. My husband had to work. I joked with him how I really need to go to farmer's market and Costco this week, but I much rather drive to an aquarium two hours away that go through the store with my crew.
On the way there, we finished listening to "The Dragon Rider" by Cornelia Funke. We started on the way to and from the homeschool conference, but since we have to intersperse music for the younger kids, books on CDs take a while. 3 yo's new favorite CD is Frog Trouble by Sandra Boynton, another library find. At least Sandra Boynton CDs are not annoying when played frequently, something that I can't say about Raffi or Wiggles.
I brought an umbrella stroller for the baby, a backpack cooler with lunch for 12 yo to carry, and a diaper bag. When we got to Chattanooga, we had lunch first and then entered the first building of the aquarium. I kept on thinking about the gorilla incident and the angry chorus how animals should not be displayed. And then I saw how much my younger kids, 6 yo and 3 yo, who have not been to the zoo in the past year, or any other place with animal exposure, picked up from seeing live birds, fish, and mammals. How can one teach a 3 yo to be brave enough to plunge his hand into cold water and pet a stingray? How can I give my daughter the experience of discovery that stingray feels like jello and she can reach in and touch it? How can they learn what a butterfly walking across one's face feels like? How else my 3 yo will discover excitedly that penguins "fly" underwater? That he can use two fingers to feel the scales of a cornsnake?
We had a great time. Nobody ran off, nobody got lost, nobody cried. 3 yo even didn't have any accidents, and the baby stayed awake and relatively happy the whole time. And I kept thinking: this is what a good homeschooling day feels like. This is what I love doing with my wild and crazy bunch: drive them to a cool place, get all excited about it, see them get all excited, and watch as they ask each other about what they liked the most.
Before we headed back, the kids asked about Ben and Jerry's corner store right next to the parking garage. I said that I will take a look at their prices. When you have five kids, getting everyone a scoop gets expensive very quickly, not to mention that we already spent money on gas and parking and admission (technically membership since I am planning to get there again). When I ducked into the store ( more accurately, as we spilled into the store) and I saw their prices, I felt ready to leave. Enter 12 yo, the rationalist: "If I split a cup with my brother, and sister splits a cup with 3 yo and you get a small cup for yourself, it is much cheaper than getting everyone a scoop". "Yes, we all all ready to share". Ok then, The older boys ordered their cup, but 3 yo, spoiled by getting his own (free) baby cone at local Bruster's was not inclined to share. So he dropped on the floor, kicking and screaming that he wants his own. The beauty of having so many kids is that it is no longer mortifying. I knew that either he will stop yelling soon and chooses to share, or he will continue yelling and I will take him outside the store without ice cream. Knowing this child, I was betting on the first. Sorry, patrons, but I had to pay for our treat. By the time I paid, he calmed down and chose to sit next to his sister.
We finished our scoops, got in the car, and drove back home.
May I be known as a mom with a messy house and without groceries, but the one who took her kids places that generated happiness.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
post-Pesach
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| seder table 5:30 erev pesach |
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| seder table 6:30 erev pesach Kids have to eat |
Then it dawned on me: what's harder than having a Pesach baby? Trying to make Pesach with a 1 year old! She was doing her part to keep things interesting. She kept throwing things out of her high chair, and spreading those Cheerios everywhere. Besides, a baby of this age needs to be constantly watched. She does not sleep nearly as much as a newborn, and she does not yet have any common sense, but she is mobile and active. I did enclose the living room as a space where she could be contained, but she is only happy in there for so long before starting to cry. So, out of 13 years that I have made Pesach, I was heavily pregnant or with a newborn for 4, and with an acitve one year old for 5. That's nine years of challenges. No wonder I don't feel so gung-ho about Pesach any more.
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| seder table 7:30 erev pesach |
As for the seder prep, I pulled out my collection of Hagadahs, but the boys were most fascinated with The Exodus You Almost Passed Over by Rabbi Forhman. They both read it, and more than once. 10 yo kept bringing it to the table, reading out loud and discussing various points.3 yo stayed up for the seder, saw my husband put on his kittel and asked: "Why are you doing that?" "Thank you for fulfilling my obligation, So you could ask." He was not amused, but he was explained more about coming out of Egypt. And he even recited a nice part of Ma Nishtana. I know he was taught it in school, but I also have a Pesach CD that he kept asking me to put in, which contains it.
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| 10 yo showed brotherly love by putting up with 3 yo messing up his experiment (you need someone of similar height for it to work) at the science museum |
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| Kings of the rock at Noah's Ark |
Wednesday was the last day of coop classes followed by park day. I saw the boys' presentation from Lego Robotics class and missed the Bridges class one due to the littles being in toddler room. We brought out miracle bars to share. 12 walked around, advertising how good they are and sharing his insights about Pesach. I thought we will leave early enough for the babies to nap at home, but they both could not sleep. So, on the spur of the moment, I grabbed the willing kids and went to Botanical Gardens to sneak a peek at Chihuly exhibition. Our membership was running out and it did not officially open till after Pesach, but the glass was already installed. The kids loved running around finding the artwork: "There is a Chihuly!" And Thursday I went to taeknowdo with the boys followed by a cooking marathon for the last days.
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| Boys are presenting their robot |
Now Yom Tov is over, the kitchen is back to chametz, laundry is churning from mounds of dirty into mounds of clean, and we bought our chametz. I am looking forward to Pesach when the youngest is 3. In the meanwhile, I will keep on trying to do what I can, and ignore the over-optimistic accounts of how easy it is to make Pesach.
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| Chihuly in the Botanical Garden |
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
songs on the radio
"Mommy, can you turn on Star 94?" Where we live, this is the cool radio station, playing top 40 hits. It's more like same ten songs over and over again, but I have to point it out for my boys to notice. They did not discover it on their own; it is one of my radio presets. I do not listen to it often on my own, I seem to prefer the sound of 80s and 90s. Those will be oldies very soon, but I pretend that I am back in high school or college, and still young and hip.My boys ask for Star 94. I cannot be a hypocrite, listening to this music myself, but keeping it away from them, so depending on the situation, I will turn it on. We do a lot of driving to taekwondo when it is just me and the boys, no younger siblings requesting "baby song CDs". A song comes on. The boys crack up. Me: "Is it "Stitches"?" Boys: "No it's the other one, "I can't feel my face when I'm with you"." They know that I object to both of those songs. They ask me why, and I tell them how I think love should not require numb faces or stitches post-kissing. I ask them what they think falling in love feels like. They are still young, no crushes that I know of. 11 yo describes a scene from the end of "Inside Out". I smile, it is so innocent and sweet. He hits on the awkwardness and blushing. I tell them which other songs about love I do not object to: "Sugar" by Maroon5, "We Found Love Right Where We Are".
It hit me now, even though I object to it, I am speaking their language. I am in tune to what they are listening to. I can discuss it, and voice my reservations. I can state my opinions about love and point out which songs describe love that is worth aspiring to.
I remember realizing as a child that all songs were either about falling in love, or breaking up. (Patriotic songs are about love, too, love for a country or ideals. Religious songs were not on my radar, although they are about love of G-d and G-dly world). I also remember not having these discussions with my parents. My father listening to the radio playing "American Pie", me, dancing along, my mother entering, asking him to turn it off, it is too loud.
My husband hooks up his phone in the kitchen to a small radio stereo, playing Youtube playlists. By the end of the day I am in auditory overload, from all the kids screaming, from being talked to all day long, especially by my verbose oldest. I ask him to turn it off. "Mommy does not like music". No, Mommy needs her quiet so that thoughts can line up at least once a day.
But it is different there in the car, in the middle of the morning. I should be downloading shiurim onto the iPod, giving these kids some Torah, some learning. I could be checking out more audio books from the library. I ought to be exposing them to classical music. But I am rushing out of the house with the baby who has to be woken up to be dropped off at the babysitter. After she is dropped off, I get a request for Star 94. I can finally breathe, and I give in. They roll their eyes when every station plays the same latest song. I nod, and we exchange those brief remarks about the songs.
We are learning to keep communication channels open, and if music assists us, so be it.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
kids in the kitchen
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| apples in honey |
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| dry ingredients |
I asked the boys whether they want to take over. And take over they did. They made the rest of the tart, while I sat on the couch and nursed. They hunted down the lemon zester, measured and mixed. I was not consulted, but, by now, we have baked enough that they knew their way around the kitchen.
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| wet ingredients |
Of course, there is a risk that something was not done right, and the tart will not come out. However, as I sat nursing, I truly relaxed. I have no ego in this, just pride that my kids can help and can tackle even a pretty elaborate recipe.
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| a bit of sampling |
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| and a bit of goofing off |
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| cinnamon sugar topping |
Monday, August 17, 2015
end of summer
Summer is drawing to a close. I filed Declaration of Intent to Homeschool for the boys. I also shopped for school supplies for 5 yo and 2 yo. I looked into Khan Academy for math and got Math Mammoth, just in case. It sounds like we are rolling into school year, yet, in a way, we were "doing school" all along. We have kept up Chumash study. 11 yo just finished שירת הים in בשלח. We skipped many Rashis and he complained plenty about the poetic language, even though he knew the words from davening. 9 yo is in the middle of תולדות. Both boys continued with taekwondo and just received a black stripe on their belts, putting just one more level between them and that coveted black belt. 9 yo begged and begged me to start violin. After ignoring his requests and wishing they would go away (and trying to sway him towards a less challenging instrument), I found a teacher for him. He has been very conscientious about it, treating the instrument gingerly and practicing. Of course, it has barely been a month, so I'm still taking "wait and see" approach, but this is definitely an unschooling step of following the child's interest. |
| At the zoo. They made sketchbooks and sketched some animals |
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| Joint reading of Harry Potter |
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| Nothing inspires creativity like a box of brand-new pencils. While 11 yo and 5 yo are drawing, 9 yo is organizing them by color families. |
We also made some changes in our house. They boys agreed to move their sleeping quarters downstairs, into the basement, so I can place 2 yo with 5 yo and give the other bedroom to the baby. The baby is a terrible sleeper, which causes me to be extra tired and grouchy. Then, after we put all the effort in getting her to sleep, we tiptoe into the bedroom and wake her up by rummaging for clothes, etc.
I wish to have more of a house to place all these kids, and less of a house to clean and maintain. I know that down the road, three bedrooms are plenty for our five kids, but right now, a kingdom for a spare bedroom, or even a nook where this baby can get some sleep.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
2 year old goes to camp
2 yo is going to a backyard camp. This camp is run by a woman who has a playgroup in her house during the year for 2 year olds. I don't know how many years of experience she has, but she is a seasoned teacher, highly recommended in our neighborhood.
The first day of camp I did not do a good drop off. I scheduled to drop off 2 yo last, after his siblings, but, by that point, the baby was screaming hysterically, wanting to nurse, and I was running late. So I marched my little boy into a noisy room full of kids, dragging his bag of diapers and his backpack with lunch. The Morah (teacher) asked me the usual questions: what do you call him? And does he know any kids in the room? I quickly glanced around, did not see any familiar faces, told her that I have a crying baby waiting, and ran. Not a very good introduction to the new place, I am afraid, especially since we have not been to the house before.
When it was time to pick him up, I came on time, hoping to smooth out whatever did not go right in the morning. The Morah told me that he napped, and he did great. Then she asked me: does he go to school anywhere? I said: no. (She knows I homeschool). She expressed surprise and started telling me how he listened, was very comfortable, and played with the other kids. I said that he is with his older siblings all day long, playing and interacting, so he is used to it.
I did not make much of this, except for thanking G-d for an easy transition. I also chalked up some of this to flattery.
Yesterday, again, the Morah asked me whether I am sure he is not in any program. "He is such a sweet kid, so happy, so easy, just lies down for his nap without crying, talks, plays." I chuckled: does she think that I am hiding some great socialization program from her? Then I assured her that he is home with me, but we do get together with other homeschoolers and he does go to babysitting in shul on Shabbos.
I thought about it. This woman has seen many 2 year olds, and my child is not the easiest toddler on the block. I guess, when she gets 2 year olds who have not been to "school", they have hard time separating from their mothers or interacting with children who are not part of their family, so she expected a similar situation with my son. Also, there is this image of homeschool kids being isolated in their home, unhappy and unsocialized. I wonder whether we broke another stereotype here.
How did we get here? How is this child able to go into this intense situation, which could be anxiety-provoking, yet he is fine and happy?
Part of it is the personality. He is an outgoing boy, who is not shy or reserved, but he is not an exuberant extrovert. Part of it is the birth order: when you are the fourth, you are used to having many loud people around you. You have to speak up your mind to get things. You are used to running with the pack. Part of it is homeschooling, and hanging for many hours with kids of all different ages. We go to different places and I am not always on his tail, closely supervising every single step. Other mothers have watched my kid, brought him to me, gave him snacks, so he is used to having different people take care of his needs.
And part of it is parenting. Being the fourth child, 2 yo gets a good mix of parents who are too tired to micromanage, yet who know that an extra hug, or pick up, or snuggle will not spoil a child. He is secure asking for comfort, so he can go into the world and explore.
To be honest, I have a huge moral conflict with sending out a 2 year old to camp (or to school) for such a long day and for so many weeks. There is a part of me which strongly feels that the reason I have a happy, secure child is due to him being at home, close to his mommy, and that is where he belongs. Now I am upsetting this delicate balance. Now I will have to adjust to the reality that I cannot provide him with what he enjoys, like water play or messy projects, without turning into a disaster manager, losing my cool, and yelling. Yes, I have to accept the reality that I am THAT parent, that mom who is sending out her 2 year old because it is just too hard for me.
On the plus side, it is only for a year. I keep telling myself that we are taking life on year at a time, and we can always stop, assess, and change our circumstances as necessary.
The first day of camp I did not do a good drop off. I scheduled to drop off 2 yo last, after his siblings, but, by that point, the baby was screaming hysterically, wanting to nurse, and I was running late. So I marched my little boy into a noisy room full of kids, dragging his bag of diapers and his backpack with lunch. The Morah (teacher) asked me the usual questions: what do you call him? And does he know any kids in the room? I quickly glanced around, did not see any familiar faces, told her that I have a crying baby waiting, and ran. Not a very good introduction to the new place, I am afraid, especially since we have not been to the house before.
When it was time to pick him up, I came on time, hoping to smooth out whatever did not go right in the morning. The Morah told me that he napped, and he did great. Then she asked me: does he go to school anywhere? I said: no. (She knows I homeschool). She expressed surprise and started telling me how he listened, was very comfortable, and played with the other kids. I said that he is with his older siblings all day long, playing and interacting, so he is used to it.
I did not make much of this, except for thanking G-d for an easy transition. I also chalked up some of this to flattery.
Yesterday, again, the Morah asked me whether I am sure he is not in any program. "He is such a sweet kid, so happy, so easy, just lies down for his nap without crying, talks, plays." I chuckled: does she think that I am hiding some great socialization program from her? Then I assured her that he is home with me, but we do get together with other homeschoolers and he does go to babysitting in shul on Shabbos.
I thought about it. This woman has seen many 2 year olds, and my child is not the easiest toddler on the block. I guess, when she gets 2 year olds who have not been to "school", they have hard time separating from their mothers or interacting with children who are not part of their family, so she expected a similar situation with my son. Also, there is this image of homeschool kids being isolated in their home, unhappy and unsocialized. I wonder whether we broke another stereotype here.
How did we get here? How is this child able to go into this intense situation, which could be anxiety-provoking, yet he is fine and happy?
Part of it is the personality. He is an outgoing boy, who is not shy or reserved, but he is not an exuberant extrovert. Part of it is the birth order: when you are the fourth, you are used to having many loud people around you. You have to speak up your mind to get things. You are used to running with the pack. Part of it is homeschooling, and hanging for many hours with kids of all different ages. We go to different places and I am not always on his tail, closely supervising every single step. Other mothers have watched my kid, brought him to me, gave him snacks, so he is used to having different people take care of his needs.
And part of it is parenting. Being the fourth child, 2 yo gets a good mix of parents who are too tired to micromanage, yet who know that an extra hug, or pick up, or snuggle will not spoil a child. He is secure asking for comfort, so he can go into the world and explore.
To be honest, I have a huge moral conflict with sending out a 2 year old to camp (or to school) for such a long day and for so many weeks. There is a part of me which strongly feels that the reason I have a happy, secure child is due to him being at home, close to his mommy, and that is where he belongs. Now I am upsetting this delicate balance. Now I will have to adjust to the reality that I cannot provide him with what he enjoys, like water play or messy projects, without turning into a disaster manager, losing my cool, and yelling. Yes, I have to accept the reality that I am THAT parent, that mom who is sending out her 2 year old because it is just too hard for me.
On the plus side, it is only for a year. I keep telling myself that we are taking life on year at a time, and we can always stop, assess, and change our circumstances as necessary.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
the results of ITBS
A few weeks ago the boys took ITBS test, also known as Iowa. It is a standardized normed test, just the kind that the state requires to be administered every three years. 11 yo (yes, we had a Pesach birthday!) took this test before, both in school setting and then in 3rd grade. He tested well, his results were good to exceptional, and it was no big deal, even though he was taking it the week after I had 2 yo and the house was topsy-turvy.
9 yo (yes, he also had a Pesach birhtday!) is known not to test well. He has never done a test like this. He hates being put on the spot, his anxiety revs up, he freezes or tantrums. His previous assessments were the psychological profile where he refused to cooperate on the section that required writing, and the testing done for the local day school, where, again, he got teary-eyed, dropped to the floor, and did not do well. Based on those two assessments, I was told that he has anxiety, a possible writing disorder, difficulty adjusting to the classroom, need for medication and shadow. In short, beyond my personal qualms, I had external reasons to worry about how the testing would go.
I knew that 9 yo has to get tested this year. I spoke to other homeschool parents and was told about different normed tests that are out there that would qualify. However, after much thought and mulling it over with my husband, we decided to stick with ITBS. It is a well-recognized test, and it is widely administered. Moreover, while I do not want to call it "objective", few schools would dispute its results. In our state, the results are not submitted anywhere, and nothing really hinges on them, so we decided to risk it, and see what we will get.
As the preparation for the test, I ordered Spectrum Test Taking Skills booklets, so the boys would get a bit of practice with multiple choice, timed sections, and general examples of the questions to be expected. Total expenditure (besides time) was $20. Predictably, 11 yo had no trouble with his booklet, and 9 yo was less than eager about his. I did a bit of test prep with them every day, but we did not get to finish before the test rolled in. Also, the booklet had just English and math sections; ITBS also tests social studies and science. I chose not to tell 9 yo about those sections, since we have not done any formal learning in those areas.
The testing itself was administered by another homeschool group, and took place over three days. It helped that there were a few other familiar faces taking the test. None of the kids enjoyed it, although 11 yo was more optimistic in his assessment of how it went compared to 9 yo. What was done, was done, and I settled in to wait for the results.
So?
I got the results this week.
Both boys did well. Ridiculously well. Exceptionally well, Off-the-charts well in some areas. The only area where they did on an average level was math computation, but they both did so well in other math sections, that the total was still quite high.
I am not posting this to boast. I will not go into details of raw scores and percentile ranks and grade equivalents. I am posting this to validate the ability of kids to spend most of their time outside of traditional worksheets learning, and then outscore their peers who are wasting away behind those worksheets. I am posting this as a validation of unschooling. When we saw those average results in computation, I told my husband: is it because we did not spend enough time on practice? Or is it that the only subject where we stuck to a traditional curriculum (math) is the only subject which is hindering our kids' learning? Maybe they need fewer of those math pages, fewer drills, and their results would improve?
It is possible that my kids are really geniuses. It is possible that an average American kid taking ITBS is not so smart. It is possible that this is just luck of the draw, etc. It is possible that by conducting practically one-on-one training, anyone can achieve such results. It is possible that I am such a brilliant parent who managed to put together such exceptional opportunities that my kids entered the test extremely well-prepared. I can come up with many conjectures to the results.
I do not think any of them hold water.
What I do think is that wasting childhood on test prep and traditional schoolwork is sad. I do want to march into the day school and wave 9 yo's test results in the face of the principal and say: see, my kid did this, without a shadow, without medication, and without being boxed in. Wouldn't you like to have such a brilliant student in your school, to pull up everyone else's score? Only I got to keep him at home, save all those tuition dollars and all the heartache.
I will file the test results away for now. I told the boys that they did well, that they passed, and I emphasized to 9 yo that he has nothing to worry about. As kids, unaccustomed to making a big deal out of external assessment, they shrugged and moved on. They did not see their actual test results. They do not think in terms of grades and ranks.
They think in terms of self-knowledge. Just today, 9 yo told me, out of the blue: "You know how I hate sitting down to do mishna and chumash? That's because I need to find something good to fidget with; then my hands will be busy and I will be able to sit."
"What do you want to fidget with?"
"A stuffed animal might be good. Or a pen that I can click."
He settled on a particular pen, explaining how it was not too easy to click it, and not too hard at the same time. He did fidget with it, although I'm not sure that is the object that he will ultimately choose. Fidgeting is a well-recognized distraction in situations of anxiety.What I like about this whole experience is the self-knowledge, the recognition that something can be done, something can be improved, and the search for that improvement. No test will measure it, but the results of self-discovery will have life-long consequences.
9 yo (yes, he also had a Pesach birhtday!) is known not to test well. He has never done a test like this. He hates being put on the spot, his anxiety revs up, he freezes or tantrums. His previous assessments were the psychological profile where he refused to cooperate on the section that required writing, and the testing done for the local day school, where, again, he got teary-eyed, dropped to the floor, and did not do well. Based on those two assessments, I was told that he has anxiety, a possible writing disorder, difficulty adjusting to the classroom, need for medication and shadow. In short, beyond my personal qualms, I had external reasons to worry about how the testing would go.
I knew that 9 yo has to get tested this year. I spoke to other homeschool parents and was told about different normed tests that are out there that would qualify. However, after much thought and mulling it over with my husband, we decided to stick with ITBS. It is a well-recognized test, and it is widely administered. Moreover, while I do not want to call it "objective", few schools would dispute its results. In our state, the results are not submitted anywhere, and nothing really hinges on them, so we decided to risk it, and see what we will get.
As the preparation for the test, I ordered Spectrum Test Taking Skills booklets, so the boys would get a bit of practice with multiple choice, timed sections, and general examples of the questions to be expected. Total expenditure (besides time) was $20. Predictably, 11 yo had no trouble with his booklet, and 9 yo was less than eager about his. I did a bit of test prep with them every day, but we did not get to finish before the test rolled in. Also, the booklet had just English and math sections; ITBS also tests social studies and science. I chose not to tell 9 yo about those sections, since we have not done any formal learning in those areas.
The testing itself was administered by another homeschool group, and took place over three days. It helped that there were a few other familiar faces taking the test. None of the kids enjoyed it, although 11 yo was more optimistic in his assessment of how it went compared to 9 yo. What was done, was done, and I settled in to wait for the results.
So?
I got the results this week.
Both boys did well. Ridiculously well. Exceptionally well, Off-the-charts well in some areas. The only area where they did on an average level was math computation, but they both did so well in other math sections, that the total was still quite high.
I am not posting this to boast. I will not go into details of raw scores and percentile ranks and grade equivalents. I am posting this to validate the ability of kids to spend most of their time outside of traditional worksheets learning, and then outscore their peers who are wasting away behind those worksheets. I am posting this as a validation of unschooling. When we saw those average results in computation, I told my husband: is it because we did not spend enough time on practice? Or is it that the only subject where we stuck to a traditional curriculum (math) is the only subject which is hindering our kids' learning? Maybe they need fewer of those math pages, fewer drills, and their results would improve?
It is possible that my kids are really geniuses. It is possible that an average American kid taking ITBS is not so smart. It is possible that this is just luck of the draw, etc. It is possible that by conducting practically one-on-one training, anyone can achieve such results. It is possible that I am such a brilliant parent who managed to put together such exceptional opportunities that my kids entered the test extremely well-prepared. I can come up with many conjectures to the results.
I do not think any of them hold water.
What I do think is that wasting childhood on test prep and traditional schoolwork is sad. I do want to march into the day school and wave 9 yo's test results in the face of the principal and say: see, my kid did this, without a shadow, without medication, and without being boxed in. Wouldn't you like to have such a brilliant student in your school, to pull up everyone else's score? Only I got to keep him at home, save all those tuition dollars and all the heartache.
I will file the test results away for now. I told the boys that they did well, that they passed, and I emphasized to 9 yo that he has nothing to worry about. As kids, unaccustomed to making a big deal out of external assessment, they shrugged and moved on. They did not see their actual test results. They do not think in terms of grades and ranks.They think in terms of self-knowledge. Just today, 9 yo told me, out of the blue: "You know how I hate sitting down to do mishna and chumash? That's because I need to find something good to fidget with; then my hands will be busy and I will be able to sit."
"What do you want to fidget with?"
"A stuffed animal might be good. Or a pen that I can click."
He settled on a particular pen, explaining how it was not too easy to click it, and not too hard at the same time. He did fidget with it, although I'm not sure that is the object that he will ultimately choose. Fidgeting is a well-recognized distraction in situations of anxiety.What I like about this whole experience is the self-knowledge, the recognition that something can be done, something can be improved, and the search for that improvement. No test will measure it, but the results of self-discovery will have life-long consequences.
Friday, February 13, 2015
striking gold
We finished Sefer Breshit with 10 yo. 8 yo finished another perek with my husband.
But this is not what my kids are excited about at the moment. When the schoolwork part of the day was finished, when I'm done yelling at 10 yo for misplacing his spelling words (again), when 8 yo has completed his totally unfair math where "they keep tricking me by asking for area and I am much better at finding perimeter", the kids decided to go outside. It is cold here, not as cold as in the northeast, but the temperature is just above freezing. I was trying to get 1 yo to take his nap, and to finish Shabbos cooking, so I strongly encouraged this outing. I was not sure how long they will last outside, so I suggested gloves. They wanted to go digging. I decided that they will find out for themselves what digging in frozen ground feels like.
We had a tree cut down recently, with a large stump remaining. My husband made a bonfire on top of it this past Sunday, and the kids fed it, and toasted marshmallows. But the stump is still there, and there are old grass clippings and wood shavings all around it. They went digging between the roots, two boys with shovels and one girl, watching and helping. Suddenly, they dash into the house, excited: "We think we found gold!" A large crumbly rock is thrust into my face, with pale yellow veins running through it.
Clap, if you believe in gold mine right in my front yard.
I have learned to stay positive, or non-committal in such situations. They washed the rock off, examined it, and then went Googling to find out how to tell whether they struck gold. I came in the middle of them watching a video telling how to identify gold in quartzite. The rock in the video looked eerily like the rock they found.
Now they want a magnifying glass, to examine those grains and veins closely.
I bet they will not remember much of what we did this morning. I bet they will not remember which exact problems they solved to get area, or which sentence they used for "especially". I bet they will remember the time they struck gold in the front yard.
This is what gives me strength to continue homeschooling. As much as I would like to have a certain balance of academics and tangible achievements, knowing that they have freedom to explore, be passionate, conduct their own research, and draw their own conclusions is more important than my objectives.
But this is not what my kids are excited about at the moment. When the schoolwork part of the day was finished, when I'm done yelling at 10 yo for misplacing his spelling words (again), when 8 yo has completed his totally unfair math where "they keep tricking me by asking for area and I am much better at finding perimeter", the kids decided to go outside. It is cold here, not as cold as in the northeast, but the temperature is just above freezing. I was trying to get 1 yo to take his nap, and to finish Shabbos cooking, so I strongly encouraged this outing. I was not sure how long they will last outside, so I suggested gloves. They wanted to go digging. I decided that they will find out for themselves what digging in frozen ground feels like.
We had a tree cut down recently, with a large stump remaining. My husband made a bonfire on top of it this past Sunday, and the kids fed it, and toasted marshmallows. But the stump is still there, and there are old grass clippings and wood shavings all around it. They went digging between the roots, two boys with shovels and one girl, watching and helping. Suddenly, they dash into the house, excited: "We think we found gold!" A large crumbly rock is thrust into my face, with pale yellow veins running through it.
 |
| Not from our yard http://www.zmescience.com/science/geology/theory-earthquake-gold-18032013/ |
I have learned to stay positive, or non-committal in such situations. They washed the rock off, examined it, and then went Googling to find out how to tell whether they struck gold. I came in the middle of them watching a video telling how to identify gold in quartzite. The rock in the video looked eerily like the rock they found.
Now they want a magnifying glass, to examine those grains and veins closely.
I bet they will not remember much of what we did this morning. I bet they will not remember which exact problems they solved to get area, or which sentence they used for "especially". I bet they will remember the time they struck gold in the front yard.
This is what gives me strength to continue homeschooling. As much as I would like to have a certain balance of academics and tangible achievements, knowing that they have freedom to explore, be passionate, conduct their own research, and draw their own conclusions is more important than my objectives.
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
ice cream making, or aspirations
We finished our dinner. 10 yo: "Mom, can I have ice cream for dessert?"
I don't want him eating my husband's Haagen Dazs, so I say that he can have something else. He is not satisfied: "How do you make ice cream anyway?"
"You use heavy cream and you freeze it. You might want to look it up."
He runs to the computer and starts Googling. I'm envisioning a trip to the grocery store, to buy heavy cream which I clearly do not have in the house. He finds a recipe for ice cream using ziploc bags and milk. It is chocolate-flavored and we have all the ingredients on hand. First he is writing out the ingredients, then he is cutting and pasting into Word, trying to fit the recipe on one page.
He got the bags, and the ingredients. 5 yo and 1 yo are on hand, helping and curious. I happened to have rock salt that I got expressly for the purpose of making ice cream with the kids years ago, but, somehow, never got around to it. He mixed the food ingredients, got a hand from 1 yo in scooping the ice, added rock salt, wrapped the whole contraption in a towel, and started tossing.
After requisite 8 minutes, it was clear that the ice cream still did not freeze. I was suspicious of the fat content of milk (we used 2 %), but I suggested more time tossing it around. I also found an old coffee can, so we transferred the inner ziploc into it, packed it with ice and rock salt, and the kids rolled it back and forth on a towel. 1 yo tried getting in on the action. They had a grand old time!
After all this vigorous mixing, it finally felt frozen, but gloppy, more like frozen yogurt. 10 yo pulled out the bowls for everyone, even though it was supposed to make only one serving, and topped it off with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. They sat there, in blissful satisfaction. He remarked how good homemade ice cream tasted.
I thought how allowing kids to make ice cream from scratch on a night when my husband was on call and nowhere to be seen was either an act of the best mommy ever, or of a total loony.
_____________________________
When I was growing up, my mother had two cookbooks. One of them was imposing The Book of Healthy and Tasty Food. Being a bit like my oldest, only lacking Internet, I read it. I was inspired. The recipe that stood out for me was sea turtle soup. It started like this: cut the head and the flippers off the turtle, rinse the carcass...
The truth was, the turtle was never available in the grocery store. It was not available in my parents' lifetime, either. It was not the sort of recipe that you actually made, it was the recipe to aspire to, one day. Maybe my mother could kid herself in her childhood: in ten years we will live during communism, and then turtle will be available, and I will be able to choose whether to make turtle soup or not. I was harboring no such illusions. In fact, the recipes mentioned cream. I do not recall once eating it. There was ice cream, from a cart outside, with my mother determining whether it was safe to eat or not (she worked as a supervisor for food control, so eating out of the house was a taboo, or a very risky proposition at best). I did not aspire to cream, but I read, in that same book, that a polite meal included a nicely set table, with napkins.
I was probably about ten when I approached my mother with the same proposition. I knew better than to ask her to use our china (for guests only), but we had paper napkins, and I wanted to use them, probably as a substitute for turtle soup and cream. I was met with a lot of reluctance. As I recall, we did use them, but they were just laid out and then collected at the end of the meal, to be used at some other occasion. There was also probably a verbal message of wastefulness which went along, but my dreams of culinary freedom were not to be.
Most likely I am making up for my childhood desires by indulging my kids in their cooking escapades. I want them to be more active in the kitchen, I want them to be adventurous, to make delicious things, to dream of making delicious things. I often stop them, too: I am too tired, I want food to be done with in the most efficient way possible, I don't have a high tolerance for mess, I worry about them messing up the recipe and wasting food. Yet we live in a total abundance. We can afford to waste whatever goes into any particular recipe (maybe not a turtle soup, but turtles are not kosher anyway, so we are safe). And that look of satisfaction, that freedom to eat what you desire, and the ability to make what you want: isn't it worth it?
I don't want him eating my husband's Haagen Dazs, so I say that he can have something else. He is not satisfied: "How do you make ice cream anyway?"
"You use heavy cream and you freeze it. You might want to look it up."
He runs to the computer and starts Googling. I'm envisioning a trip to the grocery store, to buy heavy cream which I clearly do not have in the house. He finds a recipe for ice cream using ziploc bags and milk. It is chocolate-flavored and we have all the ingredients on hand. First he is writing out the ingredients, then he is cutting and pasting into Word, trying to fit the recipe on one page.
 |
| Gathering the ingredients. |
 |
| Little brother lends a hand |
 |
| They are fighting over who gets to shake the bags. |
 |
| Rolling the can back and forth |
 |
| Doling out the goodies. |
 |
| Yum! |
When I was growing up, my mother had two cookbooks. One of them was imposing The Book of Healthy and Tasty Food. Being a bit like my oldest, only lacking Internet, I read it. I was inspired. The recipe that stood out for me was sea turtle soup. It started like this: cut the head and the flippers off the turtle, rinse the carcass...
The truth was, the turtle was never available in the grocery store. It was not available in my parents' lifetime, either. It was not the sort of recipe that you actually made, it was the recipe to aspire to, one day. Maybe my mother could kid herself in her childhood: in ten years we will live during communism, and then turtle will be available, and I will be able to choose whether to make turtle soup or not. I was harboring no such illusions. In fact, the recipes mentioned cream. I do not recall once eating it. There was ice cream, from a cart outside, with my mother determining whether it was safe to eat or not (she worked as a supervisor for food control, so eating out of the house was a taboo, or a very risky proposition at best). I did not aspire to cream, but I read, in that same book, that a polite meal included a nicely set table, with napkins.
I was probably about ten when I approached my mother with the same proposition. I knew better than to ask her to use our china (for guests only), but we had paper napkins, and I wanted to use them, probably as a substitute for turtle soup and cream. I was met with a lot of reluctance. As I recall, we did use them, but they were just laid out and then collected at the end of the meal, to be used at some other occasion. There was also probably a verbal message of wastefulness which went along, but my dreams of culinary freedom were not to be.
Most likely I am making up for my childhood desires by indulging my kids in their cooking escapades. I want them to be more active in the kitchen, I want them to be adventurous, to make delicious things, to dream of making delicious things. I often stop them, too: I am too tired, I want food to be done with in the most efficient way possible, I don't have a high tolerance for mess, I worry about them messing up the recipe and wasting food. Yet we live in a total abundance. We can afford to waste whatever goes into any particular recipe (maybe not a turtle soup, but turtles are not kosher anyway, so we are safe). And that look of satisfaction, that freedom to eat what you desire, and the ability to make what you want: isn't it worth it?
Monday, February 9, 2015
unstructured learning
We went to a homeschool day at the local nature center. 10 yo did not want to go, had to be practically convinced and dragged over there. The formal programs there leave much to be desired. They are run by a former public school teacher with years and years of experience. All that I see are crowd control techniques: rotate through stations, listen to instructions, do not interrupt.
So why do we keep going back?
8 yo decided to participate in indoor scavenger hunt, looking for images of ten song birds. He had to find them and write them down on a clipboard, then to turn the list in. He worked with a friend, looking and searching, persisting at a task for close to an hour. He also wrote them all down. Was that cheating? Collaboration? Was this writing practice? Sticking to a task? Not giving up in the face of difficulties?
5 yo made a new friend, whom she played with and followed around.
10 yo traded in his fossilized fish bone.
1 yo spent a lot of time looking at a mole snake, watching it slither. Then, just as he was losing interest, one of the employees came with a spray bottle. She opened the exhibit, pulled out the case, lifted the lid, and misted the habitat. I told 1 yo that the snake was getting a shower. He sat in my lap, fascinated. Then she offered to take it out, as long as he wouldn't touch it. He really got a close look at that snake! I asked about the heavy rocks on the lid, and was told that these snakes are very strong and can lift up the lid of the enclosure and escape. We got this close and personal look, totally unplanned.
One thing that I learned from the past three years of homeschooling is that a lot of learning happens in unstructured, "unproductive" moments. Homeschooling is not about advancing through grades, or filling out worksheets, or passing tests. Learning is not quantifiable, but it happens when there is an opportunity for it to happen. If one passively sits and waits for someone to tell them what to learn and what to know, they are guaranteed to fail. They will not remember anything beyond the point of required recall. The point of learning is to "own it", have a stake in it, be interested for its own sake.
Which brings me to my "next year" dilemma. Now I am leaning to sending out the two youngest kids: 5 yo and 1 yo. 5 yo wants to go to school, "to see what it's like", and 1 yo manages to disrupt and destroy faster than I can blink. I know that many homeschool families choose to send kids to preschool until kindergarten age, precisely to be able to focus on the older kids. I also know that 5 yo would be ridiculously easy to homeschool. Today we davened together, and then we did the first lesson from "Derech Bina". I was planning on focusing exclusively on reading, not being sure how much writing she can do (the primer is meant for Hebrew school kids who are in 2nd grade). This girl insisted on doing the writing page, too. And she managed just fine, with some direction. Then, in the afternoon, we doled out allowance. We start at 5, a quarter for each year of age, so she gets a dollar and a quarter. Then we give tzedakah, which is ten percent, so that's 12 cents in her case. I point out the coins for her, let her figure out their value, show her how to make change from the quarter that she gets into dimes and pennies so she can give tzedakah. Then she counts up her dollar bills and we use a hundreds chart to calculate cents. "Can this be my math?" Of course, dear, this is your math, only it is meaningful and useful math. 1 yo gets a penny to put into tzedakah box.
I look at her day, so full, and then I wonder what is the school going to give her that she is not already getting at home. She might end up with a morah who is calmer than a sleep-deprived mommy, yelling at her older brothers. She will get to do more projects, more worksheets. She might get exposed to ways of counting and reading that I am not familiar with. But is all this academic material worth more than having freedom to play for hours, to choose what to learn, and to be with her family?
So why do we keep going back?
8 yo decided to participate in indoor scavenger hunt, looking for images of ten song birds. He had to find them and write them down on a clipboard, then to turn the list in. He worked with a friend, looking and searching, persisting at a task for close to an hour. He also wrote them all down. Was that cheating? Collaboration? Was this writing practice? Sticking to a task? Not giving up in the face of difficulties?
5 yo made a new friend, whom she played with and followed around.
10 yo traded in his fossilized fish bone.
1 yo spent a lot of time looking at a mole snake, watching it slither. Then, just as he was losing interest, one of the employees came with a spray bottle. She opened the exhibit, pulled out the case, lifted the lid, and misted the habitat. I told 1 yo that the snake was getting a shower. He sat in my lap, fascinated. Then she offered to take it out, as long as he wouldn't touch it. He really got a close look at that snake! I asked about the heavy rocks on the lid, and was told that these snakes are very strong and can lift up the lid of the enclosure and escape. We got this close and personal look, totally unplanned.
One thing that I learned from the past three years of homeschooling is that a lot of learning happens in unstructured, "unproductive" moments. Homeschooling is not about advancing through grades, or filling out worksheets, or passing tests. Learning is not quantifiable, but it happens when there is an opportunity for it to happen. If one passively sits and waits for someone to tell them what to learn and what to know, they are guaranteed to fail. They will not remember anything beyond the point of required recall. The point of learning is to "own it", have a stake in it, be interested for its own sake.
Which brings me to my "next year" dilemma. Now I am leaning to sending out the two youngest kids: 5 yo and 1 yo. 5 yo wants to go to school, "to see what it's like", and 1 yo manages to disrupt and destroy faster than I can blink. I know that many homeschool families choose to send kids to preschool until kindergarten age, precisely to be able to focus on the older kids. I also know that 5 yo would be ridiculously easy to homeschool. Today we davened together, and then we did the first lesson from "Derech Bina". I was planning on focusing exclusively on reading, not being sure how much writing she can do (the primer is meant for Hebrew school kids who are in 2nd grade). This girl insisted on doing the writing page, too. And she managed just fine, with some direction. Then, in the afternoon, we doled out allowance. We start at 5, a quarter for each year of age, so she gets a dollar and a quarter. Then we give tzedakah, which is ten percent, so that's 12 cents in her case. I point out the coins for her, let her figure out their value, show her how to make change from the quarter that she gets into dimes and pennies so she can give tzedakah. Then she counts up her dollar bills and we use a hundreds chart to calculate cents. "Can this be my math?" Of course, dear, this is your math, only it is meaningful and useful math. 1 yo gets a penny to put into tzedakah box.
I look at her day, so full, and then I wonder what is the school going to give her that she is not already getting at home. She might end up with a morah who is calmer than a sleep-deprived mommy, yelling at her older brothers. She will get to do more projects, more worksheets. She might get exposed to ways of counting and reading that I am not familiar with. But is all this academic material worth more than having freedom to play for hours, to choose what to learn, and to be with her family?
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
winter break or unschooling?
This week I am not doing formal schoolwork with the kids. 10 yo is on break from mishna, our coop classes are not meeting, and there is no taekwondo. I am sort of calling it a winter break.
However, it is shaping up to be a funny break. 1 yo has been sick, so I have not been getting a whole lot of sleep. I also scrambled all my plans. I arranged this whole outing for today, rallied a whole bunch of people to join me, and then had to cancel and stay home. Now, being shut in with four kids for a whole day, and no set schedule does sound like a recipe for disaster. A smart mom would have a back-up plan, with lessons and TV and other planned activities. A wise mom will play it by ear.
At 7 am, I was greeted with a detailed castle building plan, drawn up by 10 yo. I had to squint to see it, and could not process it without coffee. He was excitedly telling me how he is going to build this castle in Minecraft.
My husband took 10 yo and 4 yo yo shul with him. 8 yo ended up sleeping in till 9 am, which is unusual, but he said that he was up during the night, twice. Maybe the baby kept him up, just like he did to us. Thankfully, since we were not rushing anywhere, it was not a big deal. All the kids had breakfast with daddy, while I got dressed.
Then my husband learned with both boys before work, one at a time. He reviewed Vayigash with 10 yo, and then did three new pesukim with 8 yo. I helped 4 yo with her puzzles, and read to 1 yo his books. His favorite nowadays is "What's in There? All About Before You Were Born" by Robie Harris. He calls it "In there". We took it out of the library, and I do like it, although we do not always get to read each page. 4 yo called he brother a scoundrel, at a very appropriate moment. I guess we do not have to worry about SAT vocabulary prep.
10 yo moved on to designing his castle on graph paper, with detailed designations of which type of Minecraft blocks to use. Then I sent all three older kids out of the house, to play in the back yard. They came in appropriately muddy, with 10 yo carrying his hammer. I was told that there is a whole tool chest back there, mostly made out of sticks and discarded wood.
For lunch, the kids requested frozen Costco blintzes. We ate the whole double package. During lunch, somehow, we ended up discussing parts of speech. 10 yo gave a verb to 8 yo and asked him to add different prefixes and suffixes to it ( no doubt influenced by Lashon HaTorah). Then we switched to taking how some words can function as more than one part of speech, depending on the context. Funny how these things come up.
After lunch, I got started on trying to make a no-sew quilt from fleece squares. Unfortunately, I did not follow the instructions exactly, and 10 yo kept mumbling how if I would only let him use that borrowed sewing machine, he could sew a sleeping bag. I put my foot down, and said that he can sew by hand; I cannot allow him to use that machine. He sulked and told me all sorts of discouraging things about this quilt, which was not exactly turning out. I cut the fringes too short, so I could not tie them together. Meanwhile, 1 yo woke up, so I left this sulking kid to tie up the rest of the test side. It did look horrible.
So I let him go on Minecraft for an hour, He was able to log into his homeschool class, which officially does not start for another week. Then he proceeded to build his castle. An hour later, 8 yo got on, got into his class, read the first week's assignment, and did the quiz. All of that took place without any input from me. And this is the kid who might not test well. I guess when the material is interesting, and he is highly motivated, he can do it. Oh, and it was up to him whether to take that quiz or not. Maybe he does not understand about the stakes of testing. I do not know, but I am finding this to be a very interesting experience.
4 yo took a long piece of fleece, tied it around herself, and made a "baby carrier". Then she tied it in a different fashion, and demonstrated how her doll can be carried while awake, and while asleep. All she asked me to do was to save this piece for her. Then, later, she casually wrapped it around her neck as a scarf.
By this point in the afternoon, I decided it might be ripe time to load everyone in the car and head for a drive. 1 yo was raring to go outside. He is a funny kid: he is not flat out sick, he is still running around, just leaving a trail of snot. His eyes are teary, and he is a bit more subdued and moody than usual, but he does not sit still. We headed to the Museum of Design where boys had a workshop on Sunday, to pick up their 3-D printed creations from Minecraft. On the way over, I found out that the kids thought I went to "some prenatal dancing party" on my day off. I laughed. Mom got her groove! Watch out for that belly! I did tell them what I did, which sounded a whole lot less mysterious.
When we got to the museum, we found out that only 10 yo's sculpture was printed, but not 8 yo's. We were told that it is unusual, as they do not e-mail for pick-up till everything is ready. But there were 3 3-D printers right there in the lobby, with samples of work being printed on them. The boys pulled up chairs and watched the printers for a bit. 4 yo took up a designer challenge: design a chair for an astronaut on board a spaceship out of pipe cleaners. It had to accommodate a bulky spacesuit and work in zero gravity. She sat there, twisting and building, for good 15 minutes, till I pulled her away.
After we came home and had dinner, 8 yo suddenly remembered that my husband assigned him homework: to review ten pesukim. This is the first time I heard of it, but he opened the chumash and did it on his own. 10 yo used scraps of fleece to make himself a slingshot. He used juggling balls, and kept working on his design.
My husband sat 4 yo down and did some parsha with her.
Looking at the whole day, it is hard for me to say that my kids did not put in required 4 1/2 hours of "educational activities" for it not to count as a school day. It certainly did not require planning from me.
So I am at a crossroads: do I embrace unschooling now (with limits on screen time, especially for 10 yo), or do I continue with more traditional subjects until close to baby's arrival? Letting go of control is both liberating and terrifying.
However, it is shaping up to be a funny break. 1 yo has been sick, so I have not been getting a whole lot of sleep. I also scrambled all my plans. I arranged this whole outing for today, rallied a whole bunch of people to join me, and then had to cancel and stay home. Now, being shut in with four kids for a whole day, and no set schedule does sound like a recipe for disaster. A smart mom would have a back-up plan, with lessons and TV and other planned activities. A wise mom will play it by ear.
At 7 am, I was greeted with a detailed castle building plan, drawn up by 10 yo. I had to squint to see it, and could not process it without coffee. He was excitedly telling me how he is going to build this castle in Minecraft.
My husband took 10 yo and 4 yo yo shul with him. 8 yo ended up sleeping in till 9 am, which is unusual, but he said that he was up during the night, twice. Maybe the baby kept him up, just like he did to us. Thankfully, since we were not rushing anywhere, it was not a big deal. All the kids had breakfast with daddy, while I got dressed.Then my husband learned with both boys before work, one at a time. He reviewed Vayigash with 10 yo, and then did three new pesukim with 8 yo. I helped 4 yo with her puzzles, and read to 1 yo his books. His favorite nowadays is "What's in There? All About Before You Were Born" by Robie Harris. He calls it "In there". We took it out of the library, and I do like it, although we do not always get to read each page. 4 yo called he brother a scoundrel, at a very appropriate moment. I guess we do not have to worry about SAT vocabulary prep.
10 yo moved on to designing his castle on graph paper, with detailed designations of which type of Minecraft blocks to use. Then I sent all three older kids out of the house, to play in the back yard. They came in appropriately muddy, with 10 yo carrying his hammer. I was told that there is a whole tool chest back there, mostly made out of sticks and discarded wood.For lunch, the kids requested frozen Costco blintzes. We ate the whole double package. During lunch, somehow, we ended up discussing parts of speech. 10 yo gave a verb to 8 yo and asked him to add different prefixes and suffixes to it ( no doubt influenced by Lashon HaTorah). Then we switched to taking how some words can function as more than one part of speech, depending on the context. Funny how these things come up.
After lunch, I got started on trying to make a no-sew quilt from fleece squares. Unfortunately, I did not follow the instructions exactly, and 10 yo kept mumbling how if I would only let him use that borrowed sewing machine, he could sew a sleeping bag. I put my foot down, and said that he can sew by hand; I cannot allow him to use that machine. He sulked and told me all sorts of discouraging things about this quilt, which was not exactly turning out. I cut the fringes too short, so I could not tie them together. Meanwhile, 1 yo woke up, so I left this sulking kid to tie up the rest of the test side. It did look horrible.
So I let him go on Minecraft for an hour, He was able to log into his homeschool class, which officially does not start for another week. Then he proceeded to build his castle. An hour later, 8 yo got on, got into his class, read the first week's assignment, and did the quiz. All of that took place without any input from me. And this is the kid who might not test well. I guess when the material is interesting, and he is highly motivated, he can do it. Oh, and it was up to him whether to take that quiz or not. Maybe he does not understand about the stakes of testing. I do not know, but I am finding this to be a very interesting experience.4 yo took a long piece of fleece, tied it around herself, and made a "baby carrier". Then she tied it in a different fashion, and demonstrated how her doll can be carried while awake, and while asleep. All she asked me to do was to save this piece for her. Then, later, she casually wrapped it around her neck as a scarf.
By this point in the afternoon, I decided it might be ripe time to load everyone in the car and head for a drive. 1 yo was raring to go outside. He is a funny kid: he is not flat out sick, he is still running around, just leaving a trail of snot. His eyes are teary, and he is a bit more subdued and moody than usual, but he does not sit still. We headed to the Museum of Design where boys had a workshop on Sunday, to pick up their 3-D printed creations from Minecraft. On the way over, I found out that the kids thought I went to "some prenatal dancing party" on my day off. I laughed. Mom got her groove! Watch out for that belly! I did tell them what I did, which sounded a whole lot less mysterious.
When we got to the museum, we found out that only 10 yo's sculpture was printed, but not 8 yo's. We were told that it is unusual, as they do not e-mail for pick-up till everything is ready. But there were 3 3-D printers right there in the lobby, with samples of work being printed on them. The boys pulled up chairs and watched the printers for a bit. 4 yo took up a designer challenge: design a chair for an astronaut on board a spaceship out of pipe cleaners. It had to accommodate a bulky spacesuit and work in zero gravity. She sat there, twisting and building, for good 15 minutes, till I pulled her away.
After we came home and had dinner, 8 yo suddenly remembered that my husband assigned him homework: to review ten pesukim. This is the first time I heard of it, but he opened the chumash and did it on his own. 10 yo used scraps of fleece to make himself a slingshot. He used juggling balls, and kept working on his design.
My husband sat 4 yo down and did some parsha with her.
Looking at the whole day, it is hard for me to say that my kids did not put in required 4 1/2 hours of "educational activities" for it not to count as a school day. It certainly did not require planning from me.
So I am at a crossroads: do I embrace unschooling now (with limits on screen time, especially for 10 yo), or do I continue with more traditional subjects until close to baby's arrival? Letting go of control is both liberating and terrifying.
Sunday, December 28, 2014
mommy's day out (photoblog)
I got out all by myself today. Here are some images:
The day was gloomy, with 100 % chance of rain. Luckily, just as I left house, the rain has stopped. I walked on a paved trail and saw these birds.
Train overpass
Everything was wet, and I just loved seeing the reflections in all the puddles.
The tree reflection in droplets on a bench was very Escher-like.
As my last hurrah of the day, I met with a friend for some schwarma. I have been craving turkey, but how can I get just one slice? It was nice to pick out just the salads that I wanted instead of worrying what the kids will eat.
The day was gloomy, with 100 % chance of rain. Luckily, just as I left house, the rain has stopped. I walked on a paved trail and saw these birds.Train overpassEverything was wet, and I just loved seeing the reflections in all the puddles. |
| selfie in a puddle |
Acorn caps
The overcast day made for beautiful lighting.
The tree reflection in droplets on a bench was very Escher-like.
After the walk, I got a salad for lunch ( with all the ingredients that I wanted) and headed over to the museum to spend some time exploring on my own. I rarely get to spend as much time on the exhibit as I would like. I saw the exhibit on local folk arts. What stuck with me was a hand-spun maternity dress, over 150 years old. The color was a bit strange, but the style was nice. I wonder what future people will say about current maternity clothing (may it all rot in a landfill).
After the museum and the prenatal massage which I was totally craving in my head, and not scheduling, I stopped by Hancock fabrics, on an impulse. (Could that folk art exhibit have anything to do with it?) Since I am borrowing a sewing machine, and since there was a huge fabric sale, I got some fleece to make no-sew blankets with the kids, and some cutesy fabric to make simple skirts for my daughter.
 |
| Finished 20 min skirt ( OK, it took me an hour) |
As my last hurrah of the day, I met with a friend for some schwarma. I have been craving turkey, but how can I get just one slice? It was nice to pick out just the salads that I wanted instead of worrying what the kids will eat.
We split an order of fries, but we were unable to finish it. I brouhgt home the leftovers, to my kids' delight.
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