He is Surviving ...Possibly Thriving?

 

                                                  
                                                      Between moments with this one,

                                                      
                                                         and time spent with these two,

 

I sometimes find it hard to fit this one in.

 

 

(No problems with this young lady.  She is 11 chronologically, but she is really about 26, and a very successful Victorian woman.)

 

 

He lacks motivation. But, this week, he surprised me by not needing me so much.  He has taken off on his own, actually enjoying the educational journey I have set before him.  At times, he has made me question my ability to continue to homeschool so many children.. It is no easy task to divide yourself successfully among a high schooler, two middle schoolers, an elementary student, and a toddler.  Add in household obligations - the need to eat at least once a day, errands, laundry, etc. - and life is busy.  When you have a kid who is difficult to engage - who puts up with your attempts to share a story with him rather than enjoying it - it is easy to allow their lethargy to contaminate you.  I began to recognize this in myself, and focused more time and energy on him.  He was no longer allowed to be bored, no longer allowed to forcibly yawn throughout our read-alouds, no longer allowed to make multiple trips to the potty, and no longer allowed to pretend to die of thirst for the 20-minute duration of the history lesson.  It appears to be working.  I'll let you know if he makes it through the Middle Ages.

What Could Have Been ...

I confess to being unable to take my eyes off the extremely large man in the scooter, ahead of me in the register line in ... (gulp) Wal Mart.  He was sooo very big, more of him spilling out the sides of the seat than what was contained within.  Even more disturbing was the conversation between the gentleman and the cashier. He had instructed her to slowly run each of the large size cans of Mountain Dew through, because he had no idea what was left on his Access Card for the month.  She did as instructed, announcing the total as she did so ... $180, $181.07, ...  Giant cans of soda, obesity, public assistance, and a scooter in the store that seems to cater to the neediest of our population, urging them to enter its golden palace, and seek what one can only imagine one truly needs - crap disguised as bargains because the price is so compelling.  When we can afford nothing, and we can actually come away with something, have we really purchased anything?   I must admit, the movie Wall-E disturbed me with its images of fat folks floating through the air, their plump arms and legs immobilized by disuse, their goards stuffed automatically.  But how far from that depictIon was this man's reality?  And did he even realize - was he even capable of realizing - the life he could have had, if he had not bought into the notion that he was entitled to the life he has been given?

Independence Day ...

     As we are year-round homeschoolers, Wednesday, July 4th, was a scheduled school day. Coincidentally, my son, who is studying American History in Depth using Sonlight Curriculum Core 100, was scheduled to read The Declaration of Independence, the very document celebrated on that day.  It is quite an impressive piece of writing.  One can only wonder how many Americans have actually taken the time to read it, understand it, know the context in which it was written.  To read about the "usurpations" on the part of the English Crown that would no longer be tolerated, and realize that we are suffering from such usurpations again today perhaps might make them less tolerable.  To become familiar with the terms "national government" versus "federal government" might make Supreme Court decisions that favor the former versus the later - which was not the intention of a government set up to maintain the sovereignty of its individual states - well, those decisions become all the less palatable.      Reading the Declaration of Independence on Independence Day may seem too schoolish for some.  But it is who we are. It is, in part, why we homeschool.  Education is not to be mocked.  Education is not for the less popular so they have something with which to idle away the hours.  Education is necessary so that we may continue to celebrate the Day that brought us the freedoms we so take for granted in this country.  These freedoms were established by some brilliant minds who possessed insight into what was needed to maintain a certain standard in this country.  And the further we have fallen away from educational ideals, the further we find ourselves from those standards.        What was meant to make us a free people is being ignored to enslave us once again.  If we have leaders who are not well-versed in the ideals with which we should be ruled, we will be ruled by their ideals.  And when I read of their ideals, I am certainly not in awe, certainly not stirred within, and certainly not inspired in any way to strive for greatness - but a read though the Declaration of Independence certainly did do all that and more.

Free Falling ...

There is a belief in family therapy that, if one person lets go of the reins, there is an automatic shifting of power and control to the other partner.  True partnership thrives on this "ying and yang", give and take, the need of one person to just not be at the helm for a while, to be a passenger.  I have learned over the years that this only works in strong relationships, where there is true respect between the partners - whether they be spouses, friends, siblings.  It all hinges on respect.  And if respect is lacking, when the one who has always been accountable, always been the pleaser ... when that one lets go, there will be no one to catch her.

True respect is not about behaving oneself.  It is about being able to have different a different viewpoint, and being judged by ones' actions, historically.  Life exists on a continuum.  We learn over time what others expect of us, our role, and it is not always defined by who we want to be, but rather by what they allow us to be.  Sometimes, that role just isn't one we want to play anymore - it never really was what we wanted, it never fit, but it was the only one ever offered, no matter how we tried to fight it. 

A time comes when we must live authentically - when we can no longer live by the rules set forth by those we may not even like, try as we might to respect.  And so, we fall ...

Welcome to the New School Year ...

We do things a bit different around here (snort)!  We begin a new school year in May.  April is our preferred month for outdoor activities, such as they are.  Being homebodies, the kids will ride their bikes or run around a bit, but they really prefer the comfort of a good chair and the solitude of a great book.  They can while away the hours in such repose, needing gentle reminders to come up for air now and again. 

April also marks a natural transition in growth, both emotional as well as physical, in my children.  They always appear to shed the last year's level of learning as naturally as a snake sheds its skin, somehow morphing before my eyes into a new level of maturity.  It is magical to witness this growth each spring, as though they too have lain dormant beneath the earth, fed by the books they have hungrily devoured over the long days' of winter. 

We have a new classroom, with a set of long-coveted Ikea bookshelves to hold (some of) our numerous tomes.  We are actually already in Week 4, having begun the first Monday in May.  Our year is divided into three terms, with approximately a three-week break scheduled in between each. 

This year's studies will include:

Sarah, grade 9
My Father's World Ancient History and Literature
BJU Literature 9 with DVDs
Science will focus on evolution and creation perspectives
MUS Geometry
Teaching Textbooks Algebra II
Henle Latin
German
Art
Piano

Jacob, grade 7
Sonlight Core 100 American History - History, Literature, Bible
Supplementary Geography
Saxon Algebra 1/2
Sonlight Science G
Piano

Hannah, grade 5
Sonlight Science F
American Presidents
Beautiful Feet Geography
American History from 1815 to Present
Rod & Staff Grammar 6
Harp & Laurel Wreath for Poetry and Dictation Selections
Rod & Staff Math 6
Literature from Ambleside Online, SL Cores D & E, whatever else I can find
Latin
Art
Knitting
German

Elijah, age 8
Still trying to find the right fit.  I made a very expensive error by purchasing the Memoria Press 3rd grade program, thinking somehow that would work.  The amount of writing was just too much.  We are using Story of the World, Volume 2, the Middle Ages with success right now.  Hopefully that will continue to work with him.  MP has a nice program, but, Sonlight has been my go-to for so long, it was hard to read a single book over the course of an entire term. 

Emma is really showing an interest in learning.  She climbs up on a chair, announcing it is time for her to do math.  It will be interesting to see where she is in her development at the end of this school year.  I guess that is why I take this time to make these notes.  I can look back in April of 2013 and see how far we have come, what changes I needed to make, what worked the first time.  I have already moved the school room to the other side of the family room.  Who knows what this year will bring.

Just In Time for Christmas ...

During our second year of marriage, my husband's grandmother passed away. She was 83 years old. It hit him hard. He had somehow never pondered an existence that did not include her.

That has never been the case for me. I have always been acutely aware of mortality, of the brevity of some lives, of the inevitable demise of each and every thing I hold dear.

I believe that awareness has made miracles like my daughter's life all the sweeter for me.

I do confess to getting somehow stuck after my dad passed away. Life seemed difficult to define, lacking in purpose. His once tangible cheek with the stubbly bristles was no longer there to kiss hello. And, I confess to still being taken aback by his picture, depicting a very alive man, with the reality being very much to the contrary.

There was a desire to hold on, even when holding on meant a great deal of emotional pain.

And in holding on, I knew I was missing out - there were new memories to make, new images to capture that will one day take my breath away as I reflect on those moments in time when that was our reality, and there was laughter to accompany the smiles ingrained in the photographs.

And as much as I wish my dad could have shared in Christmas 2011 with us, I am so glad I woke up from my own slumber to capture the joy and miraculousness of the season.

Dear Dad ...

Today is six months, Dad ... Six months since you left us, taking a huge chunk of what made us a family away with you. To say I miss you would not do the pain justice. To say there is an emptiness is just not descriptive enough to capture the void your death has left. The morning you died is as fresh as if it were this morning, the rasping breaths you took as horribly penetrating in my mind as they were in those final minutes of your life. If I had been a braver soul, I would have held your hand as you passed from this realm. But I could not bear to look upon you in your pain, and I could not handle that sound, a sound that haunts me to this day. I hope you can forgive me for that. I am trying to forgive myself.

You are with me in spirit each day, Dad. Especially when I tend to your lawn. I picture you as a bobble-head, bouncing along on the front of the tractor. You scold and swear and scowl just as you always did, a cantankerous old man with a penchant for ticking everyone off. Oh, how I miss that. I would love to have another Friday-night showdown over politics, to leave your home swearing that that would be the last Friday night dinner I would ever sit through and allow you to get to me like that.

Which one of those dinners was the last one? Which Friday marked the very last Friday night we would spend in that way? I missed it, never celebrating its solemnity as the. very. last. one. It came and went and was lost among the last days of your life, when all that was left was to look back at days gone by, because to look forward meant to peek into the endlessness of days that were to be lived without you.

There is not a day that goes by that you are not mentioned here. The kids hold memories of you so near and dear to their hearts, striving to cherish each one by playing it much as a beloved recording of some dear song. If they shed tears it is not done in my presence, so acutely aware are they of my own sadness that they would never add to the pain. But they miss you so, Dad. Pictures of you crop up as bookmarks, or lining shelves in their closets, or in drawers. It startles me, at times, encountering your smiling face, raising a glass of cheer. You are so alive, so real ... And yet, you are no more.

I hope you have found peace and healing, Dad. We miss you.

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