Tuesday, May 29, 2007

I suppose.

Wouldn’t be right if I didn’t post anything for the month of May would it? Most of my updates will prove clearly unexciting, but too bad for you. You clicked on me so now you must read them. Homeschooling? Is a confirmed success. This is not only demonstrated in my kids’ ability to soak up more challenging material, but also in the windfall of closeness we feel towards each other. And I don’t mean in the “you’re breathing on me” type of closeness. Our mornings are relaxed yet routine, my coffee is sipped slowly but with the purpose of enjoyment and optimism, children climb from their beds awake and inclined to learning, breakfast is accompanied with conversation instead of hurried gobbles and gulps, and we plan our day according to what we want to do – not what we’re told to do. I didn’t intend to lump myself into the unschooling crowd and yet you could consider us Those People. The kind of people who ask their kids what they’re interested in today. The kind of people who let the learners guide the educators. And to be perfectly honest, I’m learning more from these small intellectuals than I thought possible. I consider their capacities and I’m slightly troubled because it won’t be long before I’ll be learning with them on a consistent basis. Keeping status quo would be easier I suppose, but tossing them challenges and having them thrown back to me completely deciphered is way cool. Cool in a geeky sort of way. Cool in a “god, who would have ever thought I’d be successfully homeschooling my children and not drinking by noon” sort of way. Yes, they exasperate me and yes, the toddler child manages to throw a wrench in our routine thrice daily. He’ll even throw a sippy cup and toy train in there too, just to mix things up. But by and large, and with heaps of satisfaction at tackling my skeptics, we’ll be homeschooling next year too. We’ll outline our calendar with room for changes yearly because things happen and people change. If you were to ask my kids what they like best about homeschooling, they’d probably tell you doing less book work, staying up later reading the Mistmantle Chronicles , making aged pirate treasure maps, reconstructing dead mice by picking their bones from regurgitated owl pellets, and eating more ice cream. I can live with that.

Enough of my maudlin musings concerning unlearning.

My brilliant husband’s New Job keeps him away from my arms four days out of seven. Although I miss him implicitly, we’re handling our sometimes separate lives better than we ever expected (because I naturally assumed I’d be a sniveling bundle of co-dependence). Although some Mondays seem to spring to Thursday with delightful velocity, some hours in a Tuesday slowly edge by, leaving me with a mediocre buoyancy at the likelihood of our house selling itself. It’s not as though I’m the only one who misses him either; the three smallish people anticipate Thursday nights with clamorous gaiety. Who can blame them? Staying up until 10:00? Woot!

On an entirely separate train of thought – have you ever been to St. Louis? Did you even know how hip the Midwest actually is? ME NEITHER. I was pleasantly taken aback with how much St. Louis did not meet my preconceived ideas. I’m sure that hot little red-head travel guide and my naval re-piercing had something to do with it. Who would have ever believed that my best friends would be found using a keyboard?