Day One

The Goal: One school year's worth of blog posts about my journey into the lifestyle of home schooling my two beautiful children: Asher, my ten year old son, and Cady, my seven year old daughter.

Day One: It's close to midnight and I finally have a few quiet moments to myself. With the pull of social networking at my fingertips, it's a wonder I resist and am actually blogging right now. The kids and Jay are fast asleep. Downstairs, my house lies in shambles... peices of fabric with a pattern pinned haphazardly onto it are strewn across my dining room floor. The desk is cluttered with markers and books. Dishes from bed time snacks are abandoned on the kitchen counter. I put the shame of my horrible housekeeping practices out the back door like a struggling alley cat, kicking and scratching and hissing... No time for shame. I need a sign by the door that says, "Excuse our mess, children in progress."

Now I won't lie, when the group of moms and children gathered at the bus stop (which happens to be right outside my door this year) I envied them a little... envied their quiet houses after the big yellow child-mover chugged away. Envied their time to clean, to surf the web, to take belly-dancing classes, to watch chick-flicks and eat Edy's Dulce de Leche ice cream out of the tub. But at the end of the day, what I envy the most is their seven hour stretch during which they don't have to tell anyone to, "Stop smacking her," or "Stop annoying him," or, "Pleaaaasseee stop whining!"

We made it through all the lessons I had written in their planners: Math, history, writing and reading. But the real lesson wasn't learned from computers or books. The real lesson was mine: A way of being with my children that fosters learning in a healthier way for them, for us.

If you know my son, you understand that we struggle with his temper. He is extreme in every emotion, from love and tenderness to anger and frustration. He hides nothing. He lets it all out, weather you want to hear it or not. So today while he was doing his online math lesson, he began to cry (or wail, if you will). It was hard. I asked if he wanted help, to which he replied angrily, "GO AWAY! LEAVE me ALONE!" My tendency in the past has been to tell him to calm down, to push the help on him... for his own good.

This time, for my own sanity, I walked away. I left him in the office crying and muttering to himself. After about twenty minutes I heard an elated call from the computer, "MOM, I did it! I finished the lesson and took the quiz and got six out of ten!" The pride in his voice was apparent. He cried his way through the frustration. And who am I to tell him he shouldn't cry when he's frustrated. For Pete's sake, I often feel like crying when I'm frustrated.

Cady learned how to pin a pattern fabric! She is making a royal dress for our upcoming Medieval Feast. But as easy as it sounds... we had an episode of huffing, arm-crossing, and self-beration before we conquered the elusive pin-fabric process! As I calmly sat, waiting for her to stop her fit, I realized there are really about forty-two steps to placing one pin. Okay, well maybe not forty-two... but there are at least three. I am just practiced enough to slip it in. For her, I broke it down into three steps and she got it! She was so proud of herself, and has now placed at least a hundred pins (it's a big project)! She will really be able to say that SHE made her dress. What an accomplishment.

So, our day wasn't perfect. It wasn't amazing. It wasn't all I thought it would be. But it was our own, a day of our making, and we learned some incredibly important things today. I am looking forward to whatever tomorrow has in store, especially those lessons not written in the planners.