A peek into our first school week.

14 Sep A peek into our first school week.

This is not the post in which I tell you my philosophy of education nor even list the curriculum we’ve chosen. That’s a post I’d love to do someday. Really. Details, reasons, objectives. Love all that stuff. But for now, my eyes are a little glazed over from the multiple middle-of-the-night Liddi-Mommy bonding times and want things quick and easy. Think wiping, not scrubbing. Dumping, not stirring. Typing, not editing. Capisce?

I printed out this cute sign for Day 1. If we did nothing else, WE WOULD TAKE THIS PICTURE. Corban insisted on writing his name and drawing a self-portrait. To make sure everyone understood it was his first day of school. Much clearer now.

I never intended to have a Homeschool Room. I promised not to talk philosophies, so I won’t say why, buuuut one thing led to another and BOOM, a whiteboard easel found its way here, all of James’ belongings got kicked off the bookshelf and replaced with curricula and supplies, the kid table got a new location, and a few decorations tacked themselves to the wall. Looks like we have a Homeschool Room, folks. Even with all this stuff here, I didn’t think we’d actually use it everyday for all the school components. But if you know me as a Type A, OCD, rule-following, structure-loving, list-checking human, then you’ve pretty much met my son. And once the idea of school became attached to this room, there can be no other way. I keep offering to sit on the couch for reading, for example, but he has yet to take me up on it.

We (I’m totally part of that we) had some fun arranging the pattern blocks while we listened to our memory work. I can’t believe I haven’t taken pictures of our real designs. We’ve made some really beautiful creations. I’m serious! I think it’s coming up in the next lesson or two; I really want to document their beauty! Better than this little goofball.

Jaeda has really surprised me in her ability to keep up. Nothing that’s out of her character. She just gets things that Corban and I just don’t. It’s incredible. She’s welcome to participate in our activities or not. Often she’s bouncing around the room or putting her Lego babies in timeout. But then I’ll ask Corban a question, and she’ll just blurt out the answer. Like the time I pointed to the m and asked Corban what sound it was and she answered correctly (and easily!). Or in this picture when we were trying to use multiple shapes to make the same shape and she figured out how to stack a hexagon, two trapezoids, three diamonds, and four triangles equally. This is not my brain strength, and I love that it’s hers.

We don’t usually invite Batman and Robin to school with us, but on this day, I was feeling particularly jovial and a resounding yes came rolling out of my mouth. I mean, who am I to limit education? They used the teddy bears as their unit of measurement (no, they don’t know that phrase yet) and had the best time. You’ll notice that Batman is still stronger than Robin. Even in math. (You’ll also see Little Batman in there. He’s Big Batman’s baby. It’s very confusing to have two Batmans. Batmen? And apparently emasculating.)

One thing that’s great about being a mom and living all these daily moments with my kids is that even when we’re just going on an innocent bike ride, school (you know, the official kind) hours in the past, it happens. We see/hear/smell/find something that makes us stop. If we stop long enough, we begin to wonder. And when the wondering starts, we can’t help but stare and study and ask and prod until we absolutely have to go to the Building of Knowledge (aka the library) and find a book about it. Like when it rained but the clouds weren’t dark and Jaeda was concerned that the clouds weren’t following the rules. Or when they asked what kind of clouds make the shapes, and I recited nimbus, cumulus, stratus, and cirrus to them but couldn’t for the life of me remember which was which. Or when they saw the moon during the day (and it wasn’t a circle). Or when we found a snake skin and could see where his eyes had been. *shiver* (He’s actually on my bookshelf now. I think we’re gonna paint him tomorrow.) Or when we saw cicada shells by the dozens and could match them to the deafening sounds we’d heard all day long. These things don’t happen because I’m a teacher or because I’m a planner or because we’re officially homeschooling or because I even know what to look for. They just happen because our eyes are open and we want to know. “All homeschooling takes is a curious mother with a library card.” Ann Voskamp quoted someone saying that…somewhere. But that’s enough philosophy for this post.

Ooo speaking of exciting, Corban read his first word today. Not a memorized sight word, but a real sounded out mmmmeeeeeeeee. Eyes big. ME! This is the beginning of a whole new world for him. He doesn’t even know what he’s about to do. (I say about loosely, you know, the by-the-end-of-this-year-or-next kind of about.)