Hello from the land of Kindergarten! As I’ve shared this summer, I struggled with the idea of sending Isia to Kindergarten. While our local elementary school is fantastic, I knew I'd miss our time together. So I kept praying about it, without finding peace. Thinking it best, we even attended Kindergarten Roundup and got her signed up. But still, there was no peace. I found myself still wrestling with the idea of homeschooling her. Then I asked myself, Why? Why was I talking myself out of it?
Why does our education need to look like everyone else's, when our life hasn't?
Then I realized that yes, I want to keep her home and continue this wonderful learning journey together. So I had to call to withdraw her, the hardest phone call of my life because then we were committed, but I did and here we are!
Why does our education need to look like everyone else's, when our life hasn't?
Then I realized that yes, I want to keep her home and continue this wonderful learning journey together. So I had to call to withdraw her, the hardest phone call of my life because then we were committed, but I did and here we are!
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| (Because homeschool kids deserve a first day picture too) |
Everyone has their own reasons for choosing to homeschool. The components that appeal to me most are the flexibility of the schedule (especially with a new baby arriving soon!), quality time with siblings, unscheduled eating (she's a grazer like her Mama), and lots of time for playing outside.
Now if I was returning to teaching, there'd be no question of sending her to school. But with the gift of another year home, I want us to be together. I’m excited for what we’re all going to learn with a new baby in the house. When Billy arrived she was only two and doesn’t remember a time without him. Now she's five and remembers more all the time (even more than I'd probably like sometimes, ahem). So I’m hoping this time makes an impression on her and Billy for when they’re ready to start their own families.
Now if I was returning to teaching, there'd be no question of sending her to school. But with the gift of another year home, I want us to be together. I’m excited for what we’re all going to learn with a new baby in the house. When Billy arrived she was only two and doesn’t remember a time without him. Now she's five and remembers more all the time (even more than I'd probably like sometimes, ahem). So I’m hoping this time makes an impression on her and Billy for when they’re ready to start their own families.
Anyways, back to homeschooling! Part of starting this school year together has been reviewing projects from last year. Including this rainbow collage:
It took a long time to complete, but we love the result! She enjoyed raiding our collage bin for the different colors. I drew guidelines for her first, then she cut paper to glue into each segment. Cutting is great for strengthening little hands! Then she glued them in, piece by piece.
They were loose guidelines, and I love how the orange is ignoring them altogether (smile).
A great beginning to our homeschool! It'll be a colorful year, and I'm looking forward to coloring it in together.
As summer continues going strong, it’s time to give some of
our summer shirts a second life. Shirts don’t have an easy time around here-
they get rolled in the dirt, mud, drenched in bubble solution, and dribbled
with barbeque sauce. It’s a fun life, but it doesn’t always leave them looking
their best by this time of year! So I’ve found a quick way to give them a
second chance at all the fun- Dying them. While we often dye batches of
clothes one solid color, you can get great designs with just a couple
rubber-bands.
For these t-shirts, we just made simple circles. Here's how you do it: Find the middle of the shirt (or off-center, if that's how you roll), and pick the shirt up off the table. Smooth the t-shirt down into a coil then, starting at the top, wrap your large rubber-band around it at various intervals. You can also use multiple rubber-bands for an even cleaner look, but large was all we had (smile). Prepare your dye bath in the washer (I'm a loyal Rit dye user, this one is Rit in Royal Blue) according to the package directions and submerge your garments. Let them sit, checking them periodically to see if you like the color (or forget about them and leave them overnight, ahem). Once you're satisfied, let the cycle run and rinse.After having clothes bleed in the past, I always run an extra rinse cycle for good measure. I then unwrap my rubber-bands before throwing them in the dryer.
Here are the final results. Didn't they turn out great? And they've already been worn a couple times already- a sign of success around here!
*I also run a bleach cycle after a dying session- a great time to whiten some towels and clean the dye residue off my washer. Sometimes there's still some staining left after that, but I've always had it wear off in time without affecting future clothes. Dying in buckets, or on the stove-top, are always great options too.
There’s so much that happens in the sidelines as mamas. When
our children are still sleeping, or looking in the other direction, there are
so many decisions to be made and burdens to be carried that their little
shoulders don’t need to know about yet. Blogging is no different, friends. Of
course you know that there is always much that happens beyond the edges of the
photograph, and these photographs are no different. What you see, and what I
want to remember, is smiling children and a smiling great-grandmother.
This is my grandmother, one of the most influential rocks of my foundation. A product of the Great Depression, she was the first one to teach me to never throw anything away, without looking at it once (maybe even twice or three times) for potential usefulness. Decades before our culture adopted such words as “recycling” or “upcycling.” She was the one to teach me that a woman’s hands don’t need to be polished to be beautiful- that they’re meant to be covered with dirt or ice cream, engaged in the important business of raising a family. She was one of the few who didn't think I was losing my mind when I wanted to pursue an art degree, long before education became a part of the equation. “Well, you’ll figure out something to do with it,” she said, her belief in me unwavering.
And recently, almost two months after her stroke, it was my turn to return that belief. She came to stay with us for eight days a few weeks ago, her mind fluctuating between sharp & funny to the riddled & frustrated confusion that accompanies her vascular dementia. She's been staying with my parents, and it was a chance to give them a vacation by themselves. There were definitely hard moments, harder than I was even prepared for, but there were also wonderful moments when she was definitely present with us, enjoying this time together. And it was my decision throughout our week, to capitalize on those positive moments. To hold onto my unwavering belief of who I know her to be, rather than let the dementia convince me otherwise. Not so different than parenting, I think. As we seek out the best of our children, and choose to believe (over & over again) in that potential instead of the momentary setbacks along the way. The grace to begin each day anew with the ones we love, and with ourselves too.
This is my grandmother, one of the most influential rocks of my foundation. A product of the Great Depression, she was the first one to teach me to never throw anything away, without looking at it once (maybe even twice or three times) for potential usefulness. Decades before our culture adopted such words as “recycling” or “upcycling.” She was the one to teach me that a woman’s hands don’t need to be polished to be beautiful- that they’re meant to be covered with dirt or ice cream, engaged in the important business of raising a family. She was one of the few who didn't think I was losing my mind when I wanted to pursue an art degree, long before education became a part of the equation. “Well, you’ll figure out something to do with it,” she said, her belief in me unwavering.
And recently, almost two months after her stroke, it was my turn to return that belief. She came to stay with us for eight days a few weeks ago, her mind fluctuating between sharp & funny to the riddled & frustrated confusion that accompanies her vascular dementia. She's been staying with my parents, and it was a chance to give them a vacation by themselves. There were definitely hard moments, harder than I was even prepared for, but there were also wonderful moments when she was definitely present with us, enjoying this time together. And it was my decision throughout our week, to capitalize on those positive moments. To hold onto my unwavering belief of who I know her to be, rather than let the dementia convince me otherwise. Not so different than parenting, I think. As we seek out the best of our children, and choose to believe (over & over again) in that potential instead of the momentary setbacks along the way. The grace to begin each day anew with the ones we love, and with ourselves too.
Wishing you a grace-filled start to your week!
