I love my boy. I never dreamed how crazy cool a little boy would be.
Trouble.
Untamed.
He’s my baby, and anything but.
He digs dirt, scales walls and hangs from tree branches like a monkey. Most meals he has manners like a savage and would prefer to live on meat alone. He’s been threatened with expulsion from our homeschool coop because he insists on carrying pocket knives into his first grade class and his persuasive speech will always give you reason to consider packing heat. He’ll take on any boy willing and wrestles with self-control when it comes to his sisters. He takes Lego creations seriously. He has his own tool bag, work gloves, and safety goggles- items he requires almost daily.
The bathtub is gritty when he’s finished and most of his jeans have been patched at the knees. He plays the drums and sings songs about Jesus and God’s love. His love is fierce and his heart is bold. He walks with purpose and stands like his daddy. Most neighbors know his name and he can chat about the weather with the best of the grown up world. People who know him, love him.
I love this gal. I started photographing her right around her first birthday and my, how this little lady has grown! Miss Mallory, a girl who knows what she wants and can easily wrap me around her tiny fingers. If you grow up to be anything like your mommy, little dear, you’re going to be pretty darn amazing. You’re off to a fabulous start…
“I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous.
I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration, I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal.In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or de-humanized.
If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming.” —- Goethe
Sad news. We came home to one less chicken. It was a tragic accident. Apparently, sweet Rocky tried to fly over the fence into the chicken run and didn’t quite get the lift anticipated. Her neck was caught between the pickets and she hung herself. Jack and Poppy found poor Rocky, dangling from the fence, stone cold.
Maggie, to whom Rocky belonged, was at a sleep over and didn’t know of Rocky’s untimely death until the following afternoon. Our house was rocked with grief. Rocky was well-loved and will be very much missed. The children each pray for our pets and even now pray for Rocky to be in chicken-heaven (where did they get this?)
Poppy helped to gather up Rocky’s body and place her in a box to await burial. She cried as if her heart was broken and when asked, she cried for Maggie. It makes me choke to think of this little person caring so much for a sister’s sadness to come. She required so much and love and comfort because of her overwhelming empathy- a gift from God. Full of compassion and love. My children amaze me.
Maggie, as expected, was in anguish upon hearing of Rocky’s death and insisted on seeing her little chicken in the box. She spent much of the day on her bed weeping. I encouraged each of the kids to write a farewell letter to Rocky to be placed inside the burial box. Incidentally, we went through several boxes trying to find just the right one, Maggie being convinced that Rocky would need room and preferred white over brown- with decorations, of course. In my mind, all I could think of was the size of the hole I was going to need to dig in order to get the ever-increasing box size into the ground.
Included in this post are a few pictures of Poppy’s little letter for Rocky. Maggie’s had already been sealed and placed inside the box by the time I thought to take a picture of their sweet letters.
I love how it shows daddy digging the hole when in actuality, it was me. But apparently, I was too distraught to attempt hard labor.
This is Maggie later in the day, with her new chicken. Meet Rosanne, another Rhode Island Red. As you can see, having a new girl to love has helped to ease the loss of Rocky. Always loved, ever missed.
Rocky was buried underneath
her “favorite spot”, the beautiful
White Quince just off our back patio.
Since her burial, Frank, our dog,
has disinterred her body twice,
scattering bits of Rocky all over the
yard. The tragedy continues….
Today was our first day of school. I’ve spent LITERALLY hours planning and preparing, compiling, reading, and gathering supplies. Home educating is NO JOKE.
Our day began before 7am with Maggie arriving in our room to announce that she was ready for school and ready to celebrate Poppy’s birthday. She checked several times on the tiny little hamster, hidden away in the laundry room for Poppy’s birthday surprise. She quietly dressed, made her bed, checked on the hamster again, did a few penmanship pages and helped get breakfast going. Poppy straggled in about seven and after initial good morning hugs and birthday spankings, I sent her off to get dressed and make her bed. Next came Jack, scratching and bleary-eyed, ready for whatever. After asking him to get dressed a few times, he scuttled off and returned shortly after in his day clothes.
Did I mention that Calvin was home today? And that every school day would run so much smoother if he was home to prepare breakfast, clean up breakfast, make lunch, clean up lunch, read chapters, distract Jack, help with maps and math lessons… I’m convinced it takes more than just one person to get it all done.
We were making great time! While Calvin cooked breakfast, opened Poppy’s big present (the hamster, Katy), read our bible lesson, discussed the verses, prayed for our day, read our poetry and worked on memorizing our first few lines, and read our puzzle for the day which we enjoyed solving together over breakfast. As soon as my maid, oops, I meant Calvin, finished up the kitchen, he joined us at the school table just in time to read our Civil War lesson and help map the Confederate vs Union States. Breezing right along we came to Science- Human Anatomy, and jumped right in to Ancient Civilizations and their superstitions and discoveries, Hypocratic Oath, and embalming of bodies. Oh, and a science experiment….
We’ve tackled grammar lessons, math lessons, literature, recitation, narration, math drills, phonics, Latin 2x, and practiced the habits of orderliness and promptness. And did I mention that salesmen showed up around 10:15 to sell us on a $3000 vacuum? That threw a little kink into our morning but my rug is clean and we basically made up for all the time we’d saved thus far having a second pair of grown-up hands involved. And, no, I didn’t get the fancy $3000 vacuum….
My favorite moment of the day was at lunch: after working with Jack on his letter of the day. “M” (and he’s only had two “letters of the day”- A and now M), I thought I would test his retention. At lunch I boldly announced, “Bonus question for Jack! What letter says “ah” as in apple?” He pointed his little finger in the air and quickly replied, “REFRIGERATOR!” (WHAT the HECK??) And we all giggled. But actually, he was seriously confused. So I said encouragingly, “No, Jack. What LETTER?” And his face cleared and he blurted out, again with the little finger in the air, “ONE!” REALLY? After the girls gave him ten minutes of hints, he never got it and I. gave. up. Shocking.
Overall, the day was successful and our week has gotten off to a promising start.
Schooling small children can be a little like herding cats. The minute I step away to get my fourth cup of coffee, answer the phone, put a load of clothes into the dryer, or blow my nose, POOF! Everyone is gone.
If my day isn’t organized, my lessons prepared, my reading materials marked and ready, I can lose what adds up to hours of my school day. I’m not sure how these families with 14 children do it because schooling three takes my entire day.
Saying that, our school days have looked quite different this year from previous. For one thing, buying a full curriculum (with a few modifications and additions) has been wonderful. I love having my weeks laid out, explaining each subject and what I need to cover. I can do this homeschool thing if someone just tells me what to do and how to present it in a logical fashion. In the past I have pieced our curriculum together with odds and ends and I’ve struggled with feelings that I was omitting something huge! Oh, the luxury of opening the Teacher’s Guide and being directed! I rest easier.
Our curriculum, Living Books Curriculum, is built in quarters. Each quarter is nine weeks with the final week designated as a “flex week”. This is a time to make up things we’ve fallen behind on, present our memorization work to an audience, explore further items of interest, and rest. For me, I spent time planning the next quarter and preparing lesson plans. Being told what to accomplish weekly allows me to plug in to my calendar daily, working around other obligations and plans such as guitar lessons, play groups, Classical Conversations, etc. I am able to load certain days heavier than other days and I don’t feel the anxiety of not sticking to a provided day-by-day lesson plan.
Funny how I didn’t think I would need a break every nine weeks! By week seven I was struggling! In the past, I admit, I would have just scrapped school and taken the break I so desperately wanted. But instead, we pressed through week eight and week nine felt like a tremendous reward for our diligent efforts. We enjoyed reading more for leisure, crafting, organizing closets, cleaning out the garage and car- places that become a catch-all on busy days.
This week we are back on the wagon with renewed fervor.
attention,
this is our
endless and
proper work.
