Cupid Should Take Notes

My husband got me pens for Valentine's Day. Seven nondescript ballpoint pens. A lifetime supply of pens for this stubbornly digital, phone in hand, kind of girl. Pens, as you know, are the antithesis of romance, and though they came packaged in a wooden box he stained himself, with the requisite card (more on that later) and a bar of my favorite dark chocolate to be stashed away in the freezer for later emergencies, I can't quite get over the idea of pens as a Valentine's gift.

I kind of want to feel offended. But I can't, and I won't, because I know that each quirky part of his bizarre, but personal expression of love reflects the reasons why I married him and we enjoy a happy marriage.

You see, I (not so) secretly love office supplies. Sharpies, notebooks, a new box of crayons... My heart is always a flutter during back to school season. I haven't bought pens in awhile because, well, I'm a stay at homeschool mom. My current favorite medium is ultra-washable Crayola markers. I've got a pen or two that I like and have managed to not lose, so I'm pretty much set in the ink department. But my love knows that I adore the practical and I know that he actually stood in front of a pen display testing each one until he found the clearest, smoothest writing. Because he loves me. And when I'm using one of these pens, to write a check to pay a bill (can't use washable markers for that!) or jot down a grocery list, I can be doubly appreciative, not just for a pen, but for a husband who works hard to provide for us so I can do things like pay our bills and buy food for my always hungry kiddos.

In my new wooden box, I'll keep my Valentine's cards, the ones purchased from the Dollar Tree and translated from Spanish to English. The very first note Matthew wrote me, way back when we were college freshman, was in Spanish. After graciously explaining that "uhm, I'm Japanese" he translated with what I assume was flawless accuracy. So even though he picked this card because the message was very sweet, it still reminds me of that funny, romantic moment stolen away in the UCF Student Union almost half a lifetime ago.

And as for the chocolate, well, chocolate is almost impossible to get wrong. I'll be saving that for a day when our two biggest blessings drive me to it.

I love that my husband is thoughtful. He's creative. He is true to himself. He is patient with me when I'm grouchy, and he gives me time to figure out why it's okay to get a box of pens when everyone else is getting jewelry and teddy bears. He remembers details from so many years ago, when our love was new, and finds a way to keep them going. I love him lots, and I'm glad he's mine.

This is a better answer to that question you asked me...

I took The Bug to a birthday party on Saturday. When it comes to parties, I'm kind of a socially awkward penguin; my Facebook friends list is like an elaborate Venn diagram, petals of different friend groups: work friends, church friends, old church friends, homeschool mamas, preschool mamas, fellow Harry Potter fans... with a few overlaps here and there. But I can usually make friendly mom-chat with one or two of the other women balancing plastic cups and paper plates near the veggie tray. (Why are they never near the chips?)   

Sometimes this person is my child. I'm not a helicopter mom, I'm just awkward.

But a strange thing happened at this party on Saturday. Sometime during this small come-in-your-costume, Halloween-themed birthday party I progressed from socially awkward penguin to outsider. As the girls ate pizza and assembled crafts (wearing Elsa and Anna costumes, because every party is a Frozen party whether you want it to be or not), I listened to three other mamas commiserate about fundraisers, teacher communication, sight word tests and privacy folders, school cafeteria woes and car line. I had nothing to add. The Bug has never taken a test. She's the only student. We can make authentic, formative assessments as we go. And then as an afterthought, or maybe out of pity, came the question: How's the homeschooling going?

If I was articulate, I could have described just how much I love it. 

How we get two whole mornings a week to wake up slowly and learn in our pajamas if we feel like it. How my children and I begin each school day with a few minutes of praying and memorizing scripture together and how for the past two weeks I've been trying to get The Bug to remember that not every verse ends with "will not perish, but have eternal life." 

I could have said what a joy it is to get beautifully written letters from my child that she creates of her own volition because she is so excited to use the new words she has learned. I could have beamed with pride over the progress we've made in reading; how I've watched this skill that my daughter will carry with her for the rest of her life begin to blossom and grow as we sit side by side on the couch. 

I could have explained all the things I have learned as we complete science projects together almost daily, and how we are beginning to bring the world to life one country at a time as we study geography. I could have expressed how my heart leaps to hear my daughter sing praises to Jesus as she works standing up at the table to complete her math assignment. 

I could have described how bone-weary exhaustion fades away in the evening when I set out materials for the next day and begin to anticipate what we will learn together. I could have expressed that I am greedily and gleefully storing up hours with my children because, as The Bug in her wisdom pointed out last week at Publix, "time is slow, but fast" and I will not get these years back. 

But I am not articulate.

I tried to explain, but the words just tripped clumsily over each other, something about how much fun we have and how fast the year is going... I made homeschooling sound lame. And I think by the time I was finished stuttering out a response we just felt mutually sorry for each other, the other mamas wondering how I can possibly teach anything through my ineptitude, and me feeling sad that they buy into the belief that homeschooling is only for the brave, crazy, or qualified. (Personally, I feel like you must possess at least a little of all of these qualities, but these are thoughts for another post.)

So by way of correction, let me say it here: Homeschooling isn't lame. I've been tagging our pictures and YouTube uploads with #weirdhomeschoolers ironically. And honestly, we are a little weird, but only in the most charming way. There's no doubt that homeschooling has become more mainstream since my husband and his siblings were homeschooled in the 1980s, but it's sorta sad that I'm still having to explain to strangers that my child is not skipping school and to friends that I'm not robbing my child of opportunities to become properly socialized. 

We've got about thirty reasons why we homeschool, but the main reason is that after prayerful consideration we felt that this is where God is leading our family. I can't always come up with an on-the-spot answer to "How's the homeschooling going?" but now that I've found time to sit down and think about it, it's going pretty darn great. Thanks for asking. Next time you ask, stand near the chips. Junk food helps me think clearly.

What's the Opposite of a Waste of Time?

Today was… a day. It started with me dragging a groggy five going-on-fifteen year old out of bed to get ready for Bible Study Fellowship. (If you've ever attended Bible Study Fellowship, the running gag is that you started going to get someone to stop harassing you about trying it. Personally, I go because I get to see my mom and there’s usually lunch involved afterwards. And also, it’s a challenging, in-depth study of God’s word and they have a great kids program. And again, I get out of preparing lunch.)

So after I finally get both of my kids in the upright position with breakfast in front of them (multigrain cheerios ‘cause I’m MOM OF THE YEAR. But please, hold your applause...) I make a foolhardy attempt to leave the room to apply a teensy bit of makeup to the bags under my eyes and lament the death of my hairdryer as I wrestle my hopeless hair into half a ponytail. As I begin the pre-church-event pep talk (God doesn't care what we look like, it doesn't matter what people think, etc.) I’m interrupted by shouts from my two-year-old, admonishing the dog for stealing all of his O’s. He gets a peanut butter, chocolate chip granola bar as a replacement breakfast. (Seriously, where do I pick up my trophy?) Then I explain to my five-year-old that cheerios aren't a food we eat individually, please put MORE THAN ONE ON THE SPOON BECAUSE WE HAVE TO LEAVE IN 10 MINUTES AND MOMMY IS LOUD BECAUSE SHE LOVES YOU AND DOESN'T WANT YOU TO BE HUNGRY OR THE ONLY KID WEARING PAJAMAS TO BIBLE STUDY.

Deep breath.

Make coffee.

Spend 10 minutes getting kids dressed, brushed, shoed, and ushered into the car with toys for them to fuss over and then realize while sitting in middle school drop off traffic (thank God I don’t work anymore?) that the coffee is sitting in a pretty Polish pottery mug on the Keurig.

SIGH.

The best part of BSF is that I get to drop off the kids in a loving, safe environment where they have fun singing hymns and learning the same Bible lessons that I do. I get to refocus my crazy day with two songs and a prayer, and spend time in fellowship with other women who have been learning about the amazing beginning to the life of Moses throughout the week. I get to listen to a teacher clarify what we've studied and apply it to our lives. And when I pick my kids up, I’m not loud-mommy anymore.

I got to read this while I was getting my car washed last week.  That's a big deal.

I had a headache all day.  It would have been easier to stay home, put Netflix on and start unofficial pajama day at school around 11 am after my mid-morning fika. But if you watch the news at all, you’ll realize what a BIG, GIANT, ENORMOUS deal it is that we live where we can publicly meet fellow believers with Bibles in hand to freely worship God. It isn't something I can take for granted. If you’re interested in trying a Bible study, you can check out their website, or let me know. I might even buy you lunch. 

Even better

Everyone keeps saying the first year of homeschooling is the hardest. Maybe it will be. But for now it's downright delightful. I haven't quite figured out how to keep The Bean busy (safely) in a way that doesn't involve binge watching Batman, but we've had a couple of surprising moments where he's sat contented at his Lego table while I work with The Bug.

Breakfast of champions. We've eaten a lot of doughnuts since I started blogging.

I went to Walmart to buy this.  That's LOVE.

The Bean gets to participate too.

The entire student body.

I'm also still nervous that our curriculum isn't rigorous enough, but then I have a bit of chocolate and remind myself that my kitchen table is a safe haven from meaningless common core buzzwords. Sure, our first week was a bit of review. The Bug got a pretty good head start in VPK last year, and even in public schools they don't jump into challenging new material right away. We are at least saved from having to teach classroom management guidelines: she already knows where the bathroom is, she works with a bottle of water right at her seat, and doesn't have to worry about finding the right bus to get home because she's already there. Besides a slower first week gives us the flexibility to set up our day and see which routines work for us without the pressure of having to get to all the very-very-important-things-right-now.

Our delight-driven curriculum is a lot of "create as you go."

So this week we've been using the LifeWay devotionals provided by our church to start our morning. We pray and update our calendar and then practice our memory verse (Psalms 119:11). We created a prayer lapbook and talked about when and where to pray and who and what we can pray for. We've got a Books of the Bible lapbook in progress to learn about the Old and New Testaments and how to use scripture references to actually find things in the Bible. We'll try to memorize the order of the books (using the "right song" from Matthew's childhood via YouTube) which is something I failed to do as a child.  I did however master the slow page flip which is good for searching without looking totally clueless.

We've done a Pop Bottle Science experiment everyday. A la Sid the Science Kid, she's drawn the experiment in a journal and then dictated the process step-by-step for me to write down. She's suddenly seeing molecules everywhere and I learned that a cup of rubbing alcohol added to a cup of water takes up less space than two cups of water. (I also need to buy more rubbing alcohol.) We took a field trip to the zoo which I failed to document because it was SO INCREDIBLY HOT OUTSIDE and all I could think about was getting donuts after we finished sweating off every last vestige of body fat.

See? It was educational!

I swear we learned stuff even if I just took pictures of them being cute.

We reviewed phonemic sounds and writing letters A-X in preparation for beginning reading lessons next week. We checked out 30+ books from the library, including two on The Bug's very own card, with no discernible theme except that the kids seem to like them. We've read the first two chapters of Little House in the Big Woods and pondered life before electricity ("but how did they watch TV?!?") and made ourselves a Lincoln Log cabin, a wonky little rag doll named Emma, fresh homemade bread, and "churned" sweet cream butter. 

Emma!

Our tasty little loaf of bread! 

We created a passport and started learning about our world: the names of continents and the cardinal directions. She's learned how to log on to Little Passports and play some of the games, though she still needs help reading the questions. We've read about four of our seven continents and made corresponding crafts and dinners based on the least offensive stereotypes I could find. The Bug can find them on a map and knows her cardinal directions. 

Learning about Asia

Learning about Europe.

Creating necklaces for Africa.

A Mexican sombrero for North America. 

We've made math as hands on as possible with collecting and sorting and classifying shapes, colors, objects, and sizes. We've worked on sequencing and ordinal numbers and competed two weeks of worksheets in our first five days and blazed through three "chapters" of Brain Quest worksheets during week two.  (Really, matching?  How does this count as math?)

But my very favorite had been starting her memory book, a way to document the wonderful person she is as we begin this school year.

For the most part I feel pretty good.  Exhausted and doubtful of whether I'm doing enough and doing it right, but we're having fun. My kiddo is asking to do school work and enjoying most of what we do together. It feels small, these little lessons, for just a few hours one day at a time, but I'm trusting someone much bigger to bring it all together. Today I'm enjoying the kids and this adventure which is even better than I had hoped for.

Butterflies

You guys, it’s AUGUST. In Florida, you can count on at least two things in August: miserable heat and back-to-school everything. No lie, I get butterflies in my stomach when I see store displays of backpacks and binders, stacks of single subject spiral notebooks, and all those perfect yellow boxes of Crayola crayons. SWOON. Even as a student (heck, even as a TEACHER) I've always loved back-to-school time.  It’s just filled with so much possibility!

But now I’m sitting here at midnight, 7 days before our official first day of school, and I've got the other butterflies. The ones that echo doubt and uncertainty and flutter around until you’re too nervous to sleep. Because in 1 week my daughter starts kindergarten and I’m so excited for her.  She is, of course, a genius. Straight up Mensa material. She’s creative and inquisitive, attentive and intuitive.  She will be great at school. It’s the teacher I’m worried about.

You see, with Marzano and Common Core and assessment after assessment after assessment creeping into even the earliest of grades, we've decided to homeschool this year. That means the buck stops here. I can’t blame district policies, or imperfect assessments, or the teachers, or the distracting influence of her peers if there’s some critical gap in The Bug’s education. It falls on me. And Pinterest assures me that without a dedicated homeschool room, I have no reason to believe we will learn anything at all this year.

Ryan understands.

But of course that’s ridiculous. First of all, we don’t need a homeschool room. In fact, aside from the fear that my house will be overrun with school supplies and science experiments, I kind of like the idea of NOT having a dedicated learning space. What better way to enforce the organic experience of finding teachable moments than to look for learning around the kitchen table or cuddled on the couch reading books or walking with a grocery list and a budget down the aisles of a Publix? Five-year-olds will learn simply because they are five.  They don’t need a classroom setting to tell them it’s time to pay attention.  Kids are paying attention all the time.  That’s what makes parenting such a challenge.

Secondly, it doesn't ALL fall on me.  Yes, I’m the teacher.  Yes, we have goals for the year.  And yes, we will try to stick to the plan. But you know what? I don’t have to do everything THIS YEAR.  It’s kindergarten, not college. I have the privilege of being home with my children every day and seeing their eyes light up when they learn something new. I can enjoy delight directed learning and nurturing curiosity in my children’s individual interests. I don’t need to feel pressured to try to implement every curriculum or mirror every system I read about.

So those bad butterflies?  I figured out how to get them to shut up. I’m going to remember that I homeschool to meet the needs of my family, and that I’m not competing with you, your child, the public school system, the expensive private school down the street, or every blogger on the internet. I’m going to pray for our school year, lean on God’s grace, and keep my freezer stocked with dark chocolate. And at the end of the day, I’m going to fall into bed exhausted and thankful for another day with these precious children because I know in my heart this is what I’m supposed to do.


And because it's late and I like to laugh please enjoy this video:

Our Disney Cruise - Day Three

I've started writing this so many times, the first draft pecked out on my phone while the kiddos splashed away during a swim lesson.  A month has passed since my last publication, and while I've filled my time with useful things like taking care of sick kids, a trip to the beach, and teaching a home-based summer preschool program, I’m wondering why I felt like a blog was a good idea in the first place. Surely we've all lost interest, right? (Audible sigh.)

But I’m not a quitter, at least not today, and I do want to chronicle the rest of our cruise before it's forever lost in the mommy fog. I need to check it off my list, close the Sticky Note list of pictures that has been driving me crazy, and make space in my brain for new concerns, like lesson plans for the homeschooling that starts in LESS THAN TWO WEEKS.

I know you've been waiting with bated breath to see more pictures from our trip, so without further ado…

Our third and final day on the cruise was our last chance for tropical relaxation before returning to regularly scheduled life. The ship was full of activities, but my main goal was to play in the white sands and sparkling blue waters of Disney's island, Castaway Cay. (FYI, Cay is pronounced like "key" of course.) But we had to begin the day with food. We enjoyed the breakfast buffet at the Royal Palace dining room since the kids missed it for dinner. There weren't as many options as in Cabanas, but it was significantly less crowded too. Also, in the dining rooms servers bring drinks to your table which makes managing buffet plate logistics significantly easier when you're also making selections (read: choosing doughnuts) for two kids.

Breakfast selfie!

After breakfast we returned to our room to change into our swimsuits and grab water bottles, snorkeling equipment, and sunscreen. This is where packing a beach bag comes in handy. There is water readily available on the island, but it's a great idea to bring something (insulated and portable) to keep water by your beach chairs. According to our Navigator, we could meet characters on the gangway so we book-ended our beach day by meeting Captain Hook and Mr. Smee on the way out and Stitch on the way back. Captain Hook, though a man of few words, indicated that through some unspeakable act of mutiny he was now our captain. The Bug loves the idea of mutiny.

Our new captain.

Be patient! That's not sand!

In true Disney fashion, you take a short tram ride to the various beaches. We stopped at the first, and probably most crowded, family beach, but managed to find two unoccupied lounge chairs and an umbrella with no trouble. We rented a tube for floating and dragged our chairs down to the edge of the water. The water was so clean and calm that even The Bug, who is normally terrified of the ocean, was waking around chest deep. We built sandcastles and tried to catch fish with our dollar store buckets while Matthew took some time for snorkeling in the artificial reefs. When he returned, The Bean and I relaxed in the tube while The Bug explored the big kids water playground. The warm sun, cool water, and gentle rocking actually put The Bean to sleep and we transferred him to a chair under the umbrella, proving that vacation miracles do exist. If there is anything more relaxing than a two hour nap in the shade of an umbrella on a beach in the Bahamas, I don't know what it is. We ate in shifts at Cookie's BBQ while The Bean napped before heading back to the ship to meet Stitch.

Best nap ever.

Love this beach beauty.

I let The Bug try the camera. Not too bad!

The Bug was SO excited to meet Stitch.  Incidentally, I finally saw Lilo and Stitch for the first time right before our cruise.  I love it! Also, why do I look so freakishly tall?

We decided to make one last stop at the Mickey Mouse pool before our swimsuits dried out completely, enjoying a smaller crowd due to so many beach goers so off the ship. We also picked up more food at Flo’s V8 café since The Bean slept through lunch on the island. 

After we cleaned up and changed into regular clothes, I took The Bug for some one-on-one time decorating cupcakes with a genuine French pastry chef in the kids club. Again the Disney memory making magic was in full swing as we donned matching aprons and hats, and attempted to use a plastic knife and spoon to craft Disney inspired cupcakes. Given the lack of proper tools, I think we did a great job! On the way back to the room we ran into Pluto and Daisy for autographs and Pluto was even kind enough to sign the pillowcase she made during the pajama party.

So artistic!

My Belle inspired cupcake.  Would have been nice to have a piping bag.

Priceless! 

The parenting relay continued, and we switched off so I could get my shop on with The Bean while Matthew and The Bug played mini golf on the top deck. (Apparently she's very good!) They found us back in the stateroom watching Toy Story 2 and playing with his new set of toys before dinner at the Animator's Palate.

The Animator's Palate is a real treat, both in terms of the food and the atmosphere. Matthew looked up the menus because I had forgotten what I ordered, (I remember now: Black Truffle Pasta Purseittes, YUM) and I realized my dinner game has a long way to go. The restaurant is full of Disney memorabilia and there is a fun interactive show featuring Crush from Finding Nemo. The Bug joined the clean plate club and was rewarded by our servers with two desserts. You get the feeling that the cruise ship is staffed by young, single people who are completely unaware of the ramifications of two desserts at 10pm, but they do know how to make kids happy.

After dinner, we went back to the room and finished packing our large suitcases to be picked up for the morning. My last surprise for the kids had been delivered to our stateroom: two Disney storybooks autographed by Mickey and his friends and all the princesses.  Even though they were a really cool souvenir, they went hastily into the suitcases and into the hallway because no one wants to carry to heavy books through customs. We collapsed into bed (seriously, where do people find the energy for week long cruises?) because we had to wake up early for breakfast the next morning.

I was pleasantly surprised though to learn that the late dinner seating means you also have a "late" breakfast seating. We had one last meal with our much-loved servers, gathered our carry-ons and made our way through customs and back to the car.

Did we have fun? Yes. Was it worth the money? Yes. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. On the ship, it felt perfect. On the drive home, it felt perfect. Two months later, it feels perfect. We don’t take fancy vacations. We work hard, we find fun in the little things. But, boy, was it nice to spend time as a family enjoying new experiences, eating lots of new food, and making very special memories.