"With great power comes great responsibility." Remember that saying from Spiderman? (Now there's a movie I plan never to watch again.) Well. It's true, isn't it? And true of being a parent. As parents we have enormous power, and most of us take the responsibilty that goes with it very seriously.
We wonder whether we should make our children practise their music, or let them decide. We ask ourselves whether swimming lessons or ball sports are more important. We agonise over the perfect balance between innocence and being aware of potential dangers in the world around them. We argue back and forth among ourselves over food, screen time, independence, safety, attachment, breastfeeding - in fact, every imaginable facet of parenting becomes subject to a squillion conflicting "rules" dictated to befuddled parents by a myriad of "experts".
Once again, though, we are asking ourselves the Wrong Questions. There is no one authoratitative resource which defines the ideal diet, the perfect balance of extracurricular activities and the exact formula for screen time. In its own unique way, though, the Bible tells us exactly what we should do. The big, central question for every parent, is exactly the same as the big, central question for every human being: "what should I become?" (And, of course, there are a whole bunch of other questions that go along with that, but - interestingly - "should we have pizza for dinner tonight?" is not one of them.)
Being a good parent is all about being a good person. And being a good person is comprehensively defined by the Bible. It starts with realising you can't actually be a good person without God working in your life, front and centre. And then there are a whole pile of principles that apply to every human relationship - including the parent-child relationship. God's definition of Love in 1 Corinthians 13 is a great place to start.
Let me digress a little. We have a bad habit of defining parental success by the outcomes in the lives of our children. Ever heard a parent say something like: "we tried everything to make Johnny stop hitting his sister, but nothing worked"? The implication is that it's our job to make our children do what is right... and that somehow that will turn them into good people. To a limited extent we can control and change our children's behaviour when they're young, but shouldn't our goal be to teach them what is right and what is wrong (including administering painful consequences, to demonstrate clearly that sin causes pain) and hope like mad that they will choose to do what is right? That sounds terrifying, but sooner or later, our children will choose for themselves, whether we like it or not, and if we spent their lives forcing them to do what's right, they may not choose the right so readily as we might hope.
We may do everything humanly possible to be good parents... and have children who grow up to make bad choices and end up in jail. On the other hand, we could be utterly selfish and yet churn out kids who become doctors who choose to give freely of their services in third-world countries. The choices our children ultimately make don't define our success (or failure) as parents. There are countless people who have risen above a horrible upbringing to become outstanding leaders. Unfortunately, the reverse is also true.
Soooo, getting back to the main point, the truest definition of our success (or not) as parents, is whether (or not) we become what we should. It's whether (or not) we do what we should. It's whether (or not) we live as we should. If we are really and truly guided by the principle of loving others as ourselves and God most of all, then the question of how many serves of veges our kids have eaten today fade into insignificance. The right actions will naturally flow from the right frame of mind.
Of course, none of us will ever love our children perfectly in this lifetime, because we are still human. But if we are truly motivated to become what we should, then in the grand scheme of things - regardless of what our children choose to do with their lives - we will truly have succeeded.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Homeschooling Nuts and Bolts - Getting Started
This is for anyone who has decided to start homeschooling young children and is wondering where to start. This is not a set of instructions, but a set of suggestions, and if your child(ren) has already spent some time in school, then you may not find this helpful because our kids have never been to school. And even if your kids have never been to school either, my family is not yours, your circumstances may be very different to mine, etc, etc, yada, yada.
First thing (if you haven't already) I suggest you find out what your legal obligations are in your area. These are widely varied even within Australia, and outside of Australia, I have no idea how homeschooling works. I would advise considering carefully whether to register or not (I think every state in Australia requires some form of registration). We registered because we consider it our moral obligation (because the Bible says so) to obey the laws of the land wherever they don't contradict God's laws. In our case, in our state, we don't consider the registration requirement to go against God's laws, so we registered. Simple.
Registration here in Victoria requires signing a piece of paper that promises to teach key learning areas (KLAs) regularly and efficiently. Before you get too stuck on those words "regularly and efficiently", consider these statements: "I brush my teeth regularly (that's every day), but I also visit the dentist regularly (and that's every six months)". In other words, there's a lot of wiggle room in that word "regularly". And as for efficiently - well, by it's very nature homeschooling is much more efficient than conventional schooling. I can teach a child to read, while supervising a toddler and listening to piano and violin practise (making sure it's being done and done properly). If that's not efficient, I don't know what is!
Anyway, I do recommend you take the time to read any forms carefully before you sign. It's reasonably easy to fly under the radar while unregistered, but once you're on that government radar... well, you're there to stay. Having said that, being unregistered can make it seem like you have something to hide, which isn't always a good look. If you're in one of those states where people actually come to your home and want to see your plans and learning area, then it might be a good idea to chat to some home schoolers in your area who have already been there and done that to make sure that you're prepared.
OK, that's the boring paper stuff out of the way. What next?
Think about your priorities for your child(ren)'s education and how you can tick any government boxes you need to, while keeping the focus on the things that really matter. It's easy to get so busy ticking boxes that you lose sight of why you came here in the first place. Seriously, get those priorities fixed in your head - write them down if you need to - you may be surprised at how easily they get knocked out of place when you see or hear about what others are doing with their kids. Don't let anyone else (but God) set the agenda for your homeschool. Please!
Think long term. Discuss your goals with your husband, pray about them, read Proverbs... Think about the steps you need to take to reach the end goal (might sound obvious, but it's amazing how quickly the drive to "make the most of" an expensive curriculum or resource can erode your vision for your home) and keep taking those steps.
If you've got cash to splash around, then go ahead and splash, but if you're on a tight budget, resist the urge to buy the first thing that lots of people recommend. I bought some books (thankfully not horrendously expensive) that got lots of rave reviews - loved the first one, hated the ones that followed... really hated them! If your kids are little, there's a lot you can do with a pen, paper, and a library card.. And it's not necessarily more work than buying a curriculum.
If at all possible, look at books before you buy them, try out samples if you can, or borrow a copy from friends for a short time (if you can trust yourself - I can't, so I don't borrow). Sometimes a book that looks great falls completely flat, or turns out to be a lot more work than anticipated, because your kid doesn't "get" it.
If you can (and I know that this isn't always possible, for many reasons), teach reading first. If you have toddlers and babies to think about as well, I really recommend just teaching your school-age child to read before you do any other subjects (except, perhaps, some basic maths). If reading proves to be a real stumbling block, then obviously this won't work, but wherever possible, the sooner you have a competent reader, the sooner you have a child who can begin to work more independently. You can write out simple instructions when you have the time, rather than your child coming to you every few minutes to ask what to do next. Alternatively, if you choose your curriculum carefully, your child should be able to read and follow the directions for themselves without constant input from you. (The aim isn't no input, just for your child to start being self-directed where possible and reasonable). And in reality, you're probably covering most of the other KLAs just by living everyday life with your kids.
If you're worried about "missing" other subjects (especially if you have someone checking up on you), then with a little planning, you can incorporate other subjects into reading instruction and practice. A lot of libraries have (deadly dull and condescending...) non-fiction books for early readers. They are rarely inspiring, but if they help you "tick that box" once in a while, then so be it. Or, if you have the time and inclination, you can always write short "stories" yourself about other topics you're obliged to cover. (E.g. for Science and Art you might write "plants need sun. Plants need rain." and then get your kiddo to "illustrate" what you've written. Easy.)
So, with nearly six months till the school year begins (if you're in Australia), there's plenty of time to be planning for your adventures in homeschooling. There need not be hours of planning involved, but now is a great time to be checking out other people's resources, finding out what the laws are in your state, and setting in place whatever routines or habits will enable you to function in your first school year. It's not as hard as it sounds!
Happy homeschooling!
First thing (if you haven't already) I suggest you find out what your legal obligations are in your area. These are widely varied even within Australia, and outside of Australia, I have no idea how homeschooling works. I would advise considering carefully whether to register or not (I think every state in Australia requires some form of registration). We registered because we consider it our moral obligation (because the Bible says so) to obey the laws of the land wherever they don't contradict God's laws. In our case, in our state, we don't consider the registration requirement to go against God's laws, so we registered. Simple.
Registration here in Victoria requires signing a piece of paper that promises to teach key learning areas (KLAs) regularly and efficiently. Before you get too stuck on those words "regularly and efficiently", consider these statements: "I brush my teeth regularly (that's every day), but I also visit the dentist regularly (and that's every six months)". In other words, there's a lot of wiggle room in that word "regularly". And as for efficiently - well, by it's very nature homeschooling is much more efficient than conventional schooling. I can teach a child to read, while supervising a toddler and listening to piano and violin practise (making sure it's being done and done properly). If that's not efficient, I don't know what is!
Anyway, I do recommend you take the time to read any forms carefully before you sign. It's reasonably easy to fly under the radar while unregistered, but once you're on that government radar... well, you're there to stay. Having said that, being unregistered can make it seem like you have something to hide, which isn't always a good look. If you're in one of those states where people actually come to your home and want to see your plans and learning area, then it might be a good idea to chat to some home schoolers in your area who have already been there and done that to make sure that you're prepared.
OK, that's the boring paper stuff out of the way. What next?
Think about your priorities for your child(ren)'s education and how you can tick any government boxes you need to, while keeping the focus on the things that really matter. It's easy to get so busy ticking boxes that you lose sight of why you came here in the first place. Seriously, get those priorities fixed in your head - write them down if you need to - you may be surprised at how easily they get knocked out of place when you see or hear about what others are doing with their kids. Don't let anyone else (but God) set the agenda for your homeschool. Please!
Think long term. Discuss your goals with your husband, pray about them, read Proverbs... Think about the steps you need to take to reach the end goal (might sound obvious, but it's amazing how quickly the drive to "make the most of" an expensive curriculum or resource can erode your vision for your home) and keep taking those steps.
If you've got cash to splash around, then go ahead and splash, but if you're on a tight budget, resist the urge to buy the first thing that lots of people recommend. I bought some books (thankfully not horrendously expensive) that got lots of rave reviews - loved the first one, hated the ones that followed... really hated them! If your kids are little, there's a lot you can do with a pen, paper, and a library card.. And it's not necessarily more work than buying a curriculum.
If at all possible, look at books before you buy them, try out samples if you can, or borrow a copy from friends for a short time (if you can trust yourself - I can't, so I don't borrow). Sometimes a book that looks great falls completely flat, or turns out to be a lot more work than anticipated, because your kid doesn't "get" it.
If you can (and I know that this isn't always possible, for many reasons), teach reading first. If you have toddlers and babies to think about as well, I really recommend just teaching your school-age child to read before you do any other subjects (except, perhaps, some basic maths). If reading proves to be a real stumbling block, then obviously this won't work, but wherever possible, the sooner you have a competent reader, the sooner you have a child who can begin to work more independently. You can write out simple instructions when you have the time, rather than your child coming to you every few minutes to ask what to do next. Alternatively, if you choose your curriculum carefully, your child should be able to read and follow the directions for themselves without constant input from you. (The aim isn't no input, just for your child to start being self-directed where possible and reasonable). And in reality, you're probably covering most of the other KLAs just by living everyday life with your kids.
If you're worried about "missing" other subjects (especially if you have someone checking up on you), then with a little planning, you can incorporate other subjects into reading instruction and practice. A lot of libraries have (deadly dull and condescending...) non-fiction books for early readers. They are rarely inspiring, but if they help you "tick that box" once in a while, then so be it. Or, if you have the time and inclination, you can always write short "stories" yourself about other topics you're obliged to cover. (E.g. for Science and Art you might write "plants need sun. Plants need rain." and then get your kiddo to "illustrate" what you've written. Easy.)
So, with nearly six months till the school year begins (if you're in Australia), there's plenty of time to be planning for your adventures in homeschooling. There need not be hours of planning involved, but now is a great time to be checking out other people's resources, finding out what the laws are in your state, and setting in place whatever routines or habits will enable you to function in your first school year. It's not as hard as it sounds!
Happy homeschooling!
Sunday, August 5, 2012
The Wrong Question
We ask it a lot, we hear it a lot, we think it even when we don't ask it. It's the secret fear of homeschooling mothers the world over "am I doing enough?"
But see, that's the wrong question. While we worry about checkboxes and "essential" learning and what other people think of us when they meet our children, other, much bigger questions loom in the background.
What are they absorbing? What are the values in the air we breath? In the words we speak when we're not thinking? In the things we do when we think no one is looking?
Is there any chance that our children's bad habits - the ones that bug and embarrass us - actually represent our silent curriculum. No, I'm not saying that every bad or annoying thing your child does is all your fault - I'm sure they came up with one or two things all by themselves...
What needs to change in this home where we "do" school? I can tell you, a lot of things need to change in this home. Some I already know, many - somewhat depressingly - will emerge over the coming years. I need to stop whinging (I wonder where the kids got that from?). I need to call a moratorium on negativity and learn to really and truly speak the truth in love. I need to spend less time on selfish, time-wasting pursuits (such as mindlessly surfing internet shopping sites for the perfect... whatever) and invest myself much more in relationships... including the really tough ones. I need to stop turning my back on the things that I don't want to see and face up to ugly realities - like, my children aren't perfect.
Really guys, if we ask the right questions and seek to answer them with action, the rest will fall into place. We will do "enough", and not only that, we'll do enough of the right things. We'll bypass all the fluff because we'll see it for what it really is.
Here's the challenge: do we have the courage to start honestly asking the right questions?
But see, that's the wrong question. While we worry about checkboxes and "essential" learning and what other people think of us when they meet our children, other, much bigger questions loom in the background.
What are they absorbing? What are the values in the air we breath? In the words we speak when we're not thinking? In the things we do when we think no one is looking?
Is there any chance that our children's bad habits - the ones that bug and embarrass us - actually represent our silent curriculum. No, I'm not saying that every bad or annoying thing your child does is all your fault - I'm sure they came up with one or two things all by themselves...
What needs to change in this home where we "do" school? I can tell you, a lot of things need to change in this home. Some I already know, many - somewhat depressingly - will emerge over the coming years. I need to stop whinging (I wonder where the kids got that from?). I need to call a moratorium on negativity and learn to really and truly speak the truth in love. I need to spend less time on selfish, time-wasting pursuits (such as mindlessly surfing internet shopping sites for the perfect... whatever) and invest myself much more in relationships... including the really tough ones. I need to stop turning my back on the things that I don't want to see and face up to ugly realities - like, my children aren't perfect.
Really guys, if we ask the right questions and seek to answer them with action, the rest will fall into place. We will do "enough", and not only that, we'll do enough of the right things. We'll bypass all the fluff because we'll see it for what it really is.
Here's the challenge: do we have the courage to start honestly asking the right questions?
Monday, July 30, 2012
Live Where You Are
Life can get messy. I'm tired this morning after a night full of Chatterbox and Baby taking turns in waking me up. As I cough up what feels like chunks of my lungs, I'm thinking it's waaaaay too long sinceI visited either my own grandmother, or my husband's grandmother. But I shouldn't visit them while I'm sick...
And a hundred thoughts of what I would like to do if I could are swirling around in my head. But I'm finally learning something which I wish I'd really understood a looooong time ago. I need to accept today for what it is. As long as I give brain space to all the coulda, shoulda, wanna thoughts, I'm wasting this day that I'm living in right now.
As a kid, I spent so many years waiting to be a grown up. Then, as a uni student, I was killing time waiting for the love of my life to come along. Well, not completely - I had other plans too, but it wasn't until I was into my second year of uni that I finally "clicked" that I was living life, not waiting for it to begin - that I needed to live where I was, rather than waiting to be somewhere else. That I needed to choose to live with purpose now, rather than drift in a sea of what-ifs.
But it's easy to forget that while, yes, I need to make plans and have intentions, in the end I can only actually live where I am right now. If I want to be somewhere else, then I need to actually go there, rather than just waiting to magically arrive.
In other words, instead of longing for the day when my kids are more independent, I need to actually equip them for independence today... or, if that's not an option, I need to switch off the pointless longings and work on something that I can actually do. I need to live where I am.
Yes, there is a place for healthy grief when our dreams are blown out of the water. I've been there more than once. But if grief is threatening to swallow me alive, then something needs to change. I need to accept today as it is and live where I am. Not where I wish I was.
Today, for me, that means resting, praying, reading the Bible, eating well, getting out in the sun, sitting here writing... wedged in between the reality of being a mother of four still-young girls. Instead of fighting that reality, I need to embrace it, accept it and do it with all of my might.
Nope, there's no glamour and glory in laundry and dishes and brushing hair and guiding four little people in a hundred mundane and barely-visible ways. But that's where I live right now, so that's what I need to do with all my might.
So how about you join me today? Live where you are. Accept today for what it is and live it for the glory of God.
And a hundred thoughts of what I would like to do if I could are swirling around in my head. But I'm finally learning something which I wish I'd really understood a looooong time ago. I need to accept today for what it is. As long as I give brain space to all the coulda, shoulda, wanna thoughts, I'm wasting this day that I'm living in right now.
As a kid, I spent so many years waiting to be a grown up. Then, as a uni student, I was killing time waiting for the love of my life to come along. Well, not completely - I had other plans too, but it wasn't until I was into my second year of uni that I finally "clicked" that I was living life, not waiting for it to begin - that I needed to live where I was, rather than waiting to be somewhere else. That I needed to choose to live with purpose now, rather than drift in a sea of what-ifs.
But it's easy to forget that while, yes, I need to make plans and have intentions, in the end I can only actually live where I am right now. If I want to be somewhere else, then I need to actually go there, rather than just waiting to magically arrive.
In other words, instead of longing for the day when my kids are more independent, I need to actually equip them for independence today... or, if that's not an option, I need to switch off the pointless longings and work on something that I can actually do. I need to live where I am.
Yes, there is a place for healthy grief when our dreams are blown out of the water. I've been there more than once. But if grief is threatening to swallow me alive, then something needs to change. I need to accept today as it is and live where I am. Not where I wish I was.
Today, for me, that means resting, praying, reading the Bible, eating well, getting out in the sun, sitting here writing... wedged in between the reality of being a mother of four still-young girls. Instead of fighting that reality, I need to embrace it, accept it and do it with all of my might.
Nope, there's no glamour and glory in laundry and dishes and brushing hair and guiding four little people in a hundred mundane and barely-visible ways. But that's where I live right now, so that's what I need to do with all my might.
What Will We Write?
Day after day, we write messages to our children that they will carry into the future. Some are in words, many more are in actions.
They won't necessarily live by what we write. They won't necessarily remember with their minds, but somewhere in the people they become will be a memory of our daily messages.
My oldest isn't even ten yet, so how can I know this? Because I see it in myself, and I see it in the people around me. As adults, we choose our paths through life and our parents deserve neither the credit, nor the blame, for where we land. But. Childhood experiences can either smooth the journey or... "rough" it.
So what will we write?
Will they grow up knowing that anything good is worth working for? Will they grow up believing that mistakes are opportunities? ... Or disasters? Will they wonder why the world is out to get them? ... Or will they recognise that stupidity has a price tag and learn to make better choices next time? Will life be all about them, or all about others? Above all, will they be willing to grow? ...Or will they want to put down roots where they are, as they are, and stay there for the rest of their lives?
Our messages are everywhere. In our expectations. And in our lack of expectations. In our tone of voice. In our silence. Written on our faces. Even if we don't know what we are saying, our kids will.
Do we expect our children to rise to their potential? Or are we happy for them to putter along in a state of mediocrity (for them) because they are "bright" (by the world's standards), content with their feeble efforts at maintaining the status quo. Or, on the other hand, do we try to drag our children up to an impossible standard (for them) because they are "slow" (by the world's standards), never satisfied with their courage and persistence in reaching for an unreasonable goal?
What will we write?
Will we congratulate our children for merely not making trouble and not being "bad"? Or will we teach them to strive for what is good and right? By striving for what is good and right ourselves?
Will our children learn that saying sorry is to be avoided at all costs, because it is an admission of guilt and failure? Or will they learn to own up and say sorry... time after time, if necessary? Will they learn that it is enough that they "didn't mean to", or will they learn to "mean not to"?
We live in a world that will write messages to our children as well.
Will we let our children slide along with the culture and absorb their values from movies and social media because we really can't be bothered to be connected to them? Because we just don't have the time and energy to spare from our own dreams and pursuits to truly plug into their lives?
Whoever we are, wherever we are, this parenting gig is hard, hard, hard work if we care about doing it right. We will write messages to our children, by our presence, or our absence. The question is, what will we write?
They won't necessarily live by what we write. They won't necessarily remember with their minds, but somewhere in the people they become will be a memory of our daily messages.
My oldest isn't even ten yet, so how can I know this? Because I see it in myself, and I see it in the people around me. As adults, we choose our paths through life and our parents deserve neither the credit, nor the blame, for where we land. But. Childhood experiences can either smooth the journey or... "rough" it.
So what will we write?
Will they grow up knowing that anything good is worth working for? Will they grow up believing that mistakes are opportunities? ... Or disasters? Will they wonder why the world is out to get them? ... Or will they recognise that stupidity has a price tag and learn to make better choices next time? Will life be all about them, or all about others? Above all, will they be willing to grow? ...Or will they want to put down roots where they are, as they are, and stay there for the rest of their lives?
Our messages are everywhere. In our expectations. And in our lack of expectations. In our tone of voice. In our silence. Written on our faces. Even if we don't know what we are saying, our kids will.
Do we expect our children to rise to their potential? Or are we happy for them to putter along in a state of mediocrity (for them) because they are "bright" (by the world's standards), content with their feeble efforts at maintaining the status quo. Or, on the other hand, do we try to drag our children up to an impossible standard (for them) because they are "slow" (by the world's standards), never satisfied with their courage and persistence in reaching for an unreasonable goal?
What will we write?
Will we congratulate our children for merely not making trouble and not being "bad"? Or will we teach them to strive for what is good and right? By striving for what is good and right ourselves?
Will our children learn that saying sorry is to be avoided at all costs, because it is an admission of guilt and failure? Or will they learn to own up and say sorry... time after time, if necessary? Will they learn that it is enough that they "didn't mean to", or will they learn to "mean not to"?
We live in a world that will write messages to our children as well.
Will we let our children slide along with the culture and absorb their values from movies and social media because we really can't be bothered to be connected to them? Because we just don't have the time and energy to spare from our own dreams and pursuits to truly plug into their lives?
Whoever we are, wherever we are, this parenting gig is hard, hard, hard work if we care about doing it right. We will write messages to our children, by our presence, or our absence. The question is, what will we write?
Thursday, July 26, 2012
So You're Thinking About Homeschooling...
It's been four and a half years now since we first officially started our homeschooling journey. I've learnt a lot in that time, and expect to keep on learning for the rest of my life. Four plus years on, this post is for anyone thinking about taking that step into the unknown (although it will probably be most useful to parents of young children since my oldest is grade four level, so I have no experience in homeschooling older children).
Much of what I would like to suggest is not what we did from the start, but what I wish we did from the start. Hopefully others might benefit from some of my stumbling-along-in-the-dark experiences.
First of all, I would encourage you to examine your reasons really carefully. Ponder them, pray about them, talk about them to anyone who will listen, write them down... Because, at some point, things will go pear-shaped. Life is like that. Stuff goes wrong. If you send your kid(s) to school stuff will go wrong. If you keep your kid(s) at home stuff will go wrong. The difference is, that if you keep your kids home, homeschooling is much more likely to get the blame for things that go wrong and there is a high likelihood that someone (or everyone, as the case may be) will suggest school as the solution. The reverse (those around you suggesting that school is the problem and homeschooling is the solution) may happen, but is far less common.
So. Homeschooling goes against the status quo, and you can expect that there may be people in your life who will take every opportunity to pressure you to put your kids in school. For that reason, it's best to have some clarity in your own mind about why you want to homeschool and about what the "deal-breakers" are for you. Otherwise, you will vulnerable to every dissenting voice you hear - and if you're unlucky there may be many dissenting voices. I've been fortunate to be surrounded by support, but it seems that my situation is very rare.
Are you considering homeschooling for academic reasons? Are you willing to give up the hours of your day, five days a week to provide the mental stimulation or "head start" that may enhance your child's adult life? Are you happy to give up the potential extra income or time pursuing your own interests, or time with younger children for that cause?
Are you concerned about bullying? What if your kid gets bullied outside of school? What if life is harder in the future because he or she doesn't know how to "fit in" with "normal" people?
I'm playing the devil's advocate here, because some parents start homeschooling with high hopes, unreachable ideals and unachievable expectations. Only to be flattened by the reality that kids are still kids and don't always "pick up" bad behaviour from others. I'm an ardent advocate of homeschooling, but I'm also an ardent advocate of living in reality.
If you can, I would really encourage you to discuss homeschooling with those nearest and dearest to you. If you are really willing to hear them and also respectfully share your perspective, they are much more likely to be "on your side", whatever you decide in the end. Parents or close friends may bring up valid concerns that you hadn't considered - or they may surprise you with a more objective view of the school system as a whole (if they don't have kids themselves - if they have their own kids, then they will probably struggle to be completely objective - I know I do). We did talk to our families about homeschooling before we took that step, and I'm glad we did. We also asked some teaching professionals (who we greatly respected, but weren't in our closest circle of friends) what they thought about homeschooling.
Everyone we spoke to brought a different perspective and helped us create a big picture that enabled us to decide that public school was not a landscape we wanted to paint our kids into at that time. (Private school was out of the question financially.)
Above all, please, please go beyond the questions of academic and social considerations. This is not a post about why you should homeschool your kids. It's a post about why you should think about the decisions you make about your child(ren)'s future. I respect those who weigh up their options and decide to send their kids to school. I worry about kids whose parents just.... decide.
Find out what the school system is about. (Don't just go on hearsay.) The education department has goals for your children. Are you happy with those goals? If not, can you still come to a compromise? How do you feel about your little girl or boy being under the authority of someone who may reject your dearest values? What will you do if your little one is "sick" every school morning? What will you do if your child starts telling you that she wants to marry her best friend (also a girl), because her best friend's Mummy married a girl (a valid question for homeschoolers as well as "schoolers")? What will you do when your child gets in trouble for doing something that you think was right?
I'm not suggesting that I have a bunch of right answers for these questions - but that we all, as parents, need to get into the habit of pro-acting instead of reacting.
Although many of us enter homeschooling territory as a reaction - either to our own past, or that of our children - homeschooling as a reaction to all the bad stuff "out there" has a very limited shelf life. At some point, to be truly successful, homeschooling has to start being proactive - it has to start being about all the great stuff we can give to our children beyond the school system (in the end, all parents are homeschoolers - just some choose to send their kids to school away from home during "business" hours).
If we are simply running away from school, then disillusionment is sure to strike at some point. If we have a mission and a vision for our families, then it's a whole lot easier to make good decisions for our kid(s) based on whether a particular tool is going to take us where we're going - because we're actually following a predetemined path. If we're running away, then the myriad of possible paths leading away from our fear can be bewildering.
So I'm encouraging you to think about where you're going and why. Have a direction, have goals, have a purpose, choose a path. It's a lot easier to fill in the details if you really know why you're doing what you're doing. Advanced calculus doesn't seem quite so important when you put it into the context that you are teaching a very creative, artistic child to be a good steward with her talents. You can relax when she hits a brick wall with fractions, remembering that she is unlikely to choose engineering as a profession... and that's OK. On the other hand, maybe you'll push her through the fractions for the sake of the character that comes from doing something hard and unpleasant. Either way, it's all about the mission and the vision - as long as those are uppermost, you'll experience a lot less (of your own) tears and frustration.
Whether you homeschool or send your kids to school, there will be days when you will question yourself and your decisions. You will experience guilt - it is the inheritance of motherhood (sorry dads, if you're reading this). BUT. If you have laid the foundations of purposeful parenting, then you can either put the guilt where it belongs (in the bin) ... or reconsider your circumstances and determine whether it's time for a new approach to how you are going to achieve your mission. Hopefully we start with a mission and a vision to last a lifetime, but hopefully we also have the humility to revisit our very reasons for being if necessary.
Much of what I would like to suggest is not what we did from the start, but what I wish we did from the start. Hopefully others might benefit from some of my stumbling-along-in-the-dark experiences.
First of all, I would encourage you to examine your reasons really carefully. Ponder them, pray about them, talk about them to anyone who will listen, write them down... Because, at some point, things will go pear-shaped. Life is like that. Stuff goes wrong. If you send your kid(s) to school stuff will go wrong. If you keep your kid(s) at home stuff will go wrong. The difference is, that if you keep your kids home, homeschooling is much more likely to get the blame for things that go wrong and there is a high likelihood that someone (or everyone, as the case may be) will suggest school as the solution. The reverse (those around you suggesting that school is the problem and homeschooling is the solution) may happen, but is far less common.
So. Homeschooling goes against the status quo, and you can expect that there may be people in your life who will take every opportunity to pressure you to put your kids in school. For that reason, it's best to have some clarity in your own mind about why you want to homeschool and about what the "deal-breakers" are for you. Otherwise, you will vulnerable to every dissenting voice you hear - and if you're unlucky there may be many dissenting voices. I've been fortunate to be surrounded by support, but it seems that my situation is very rare.
Are you considering homeschooling for academic reasons? Are you willing to give up the hours of your day, five days a week to provide the mental stimulation or "head start" that may enhance your child's adult life? Are you happy to give up the potential extra income or time pursuing your own interests, or time with younger children for that cause?
Are you concerned about bullying? What if your kid gets bullied outside of school? What if life is harder in the future because he or she doesn't know how to "fit in" with "normal" people?
I'm playing the devil's advocate here, because some parents start homeschooling with high hopes, unreachable ideals and unachievable expectations. Only to be flattened by the reality that kids are still kids and don't always "pick up" bad behaviour from others. I'm an ardent advocate of homeschooling, but I'm also an ardent advocate of living in reality.
If you can, I would really encourage you to discuss homeschooling with those nearest and dearest to you. If you are really willing to hear them and also respectfully share your perspective, they are much more likely to be "on your side", whatever you decide in the end. Parents or close friends may bring up valid concerns that you hadn't considered - or they may surprise you with a more objective view of the school system as a whole (if they don't have kids themselves - if they have their own kids, then they will probably struggle to be completely objective - I know I do). We did talk to our families about homeschooling before we took that step, and I'm glad we did. We also asked some teaching professionals (who we greatly respected, but weren't in our closest circle of friends) what they thought about homeschooling.
Everyone we spoke to brought a different perspective and helped us create a big picture that enabled us to decide that public school was not a landscape we wanted to paint our kids into at that time. (Private school was out of the question financially.)
Above all, please, please go beyond the questions of academic and social considerations. This is not a post about why you should homeschool your kids. It's a post about why you should think about the decisions you make about your child(ren)'s future. I respect those who weigh up their options and decide to send their kids to school. I worry about kids whose parents just.... decide.
Find out what the school system is about. (Don't just go on hearsay.) The education department has goals for your children. Are you happy with those goals? If not, can you still come to a compromise? How do you feel about your little girl or boy being under the authority of someone who may reject your dearest values? What will you do if your little one is "sick" every school morning? What will you do if your child starts telling you that she wants to marry her best friend (also a girl), because her best friend's Mummy married a girl (a valid question for homeschoolers as well as "schoolers")? What will you do when your child gets in trouble for doing something that you think was right?
I'm not suggesting that I have a bunch of right answers for these questions - but that we all, as parents, need to get into the habit of pro-acting instead of reacting.
Although many of us enter homeschooling territory as a reaction - either to our own past, or that of our children - homeschooling as a reaction to all the bad stuff "out there" has a very limited shelf life. At some point, to be truly successful, homeschooling has to start being proactive - it has to start being about all the great stuff we can give to our children beyond the school system (in the end, all parents are homeschoolers - just some choose to send their kids to school away from home during "business" hours).
If we are simply running away from school, then disillusionment is sure to strike at some point. If we have a mission and a vision for our families, then it's a whole lot easier to make good decisions for our kid(s) based on whether a particular tool is going to take us where we're going - because we're actually following a predetemined path. If we're running away, then the myriad of possible paths leading away from our fear can be bewildering.
So I'm encouraging you to think about where you're going and why. Have a direction, have goals, have a purpose, choose a path. It's a lot easier to fill in the details if you really know why you're doing what you're doing. Advanced calculus doesn't seem quite so important when you put it into the context that you are teaching a very creative, artistic child to be a good steward with her talents. You can relax when she hits a brick wall with fractions, remembering that she is unlikely to choose engineering as a profession... and that's OK. On the other hand, maybe you'll push her through the fractions for the sake of the character that comes from doing something hard and unpleasant. Either way, it's all about the mission and the vision - as long as those are uppermost, you'll experience a lot less (of your own) tears and frustration.
Whether you homeschool or send your kids to school, there will be days when you will question yourself and your decisions. You will experience guilt - it is the inheritance of motherhood (sorry dads, if you're reading this). BUT. If you have laid the foundations of purposeful parenting, then you can either put the guilt where it belongs (in the bin) ... or reconsider your circumstances and determine whether it's time for a new approach to how you are going to achieve your mission. Hopefully we start with a mission and a vision to last a lifetime, but hopefully we also have the humility to revisit our very reasons for being if necessary.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
The Things We Don't Say
As our girls get older, homeschooling gets scarier. Easier in some ways, yes, but still scarier.
There's more at stake now, you see. If a six-year-old can't read, it's easy enough to shrug it off and diagnose time, that fabulous cure-all. If a seven-year-old can't read, the anxiety begins to build. Will time be enough, or are more drastic measures called for? If an eight-year-old is still struggling to decipher a sentence, there is a definite tightness in the chest... Well, at least, that's how I'm imagining it would be. Thankfully my oldest two are reading and Chatterbox is well on her way. At least there I can breathe a sigh of relief.
But homeschooling a fourth-grader is starting to step up the pressure - albeit internal pressure. Lately, I've been feeling overwhelmed by life. I find myself wondering each day: "what should I be doing?" "Am I doing the right thing?" and the eternal question of the homeschooler: "Am I doing enough?"
What if I miss teaching something really important? Will my kids complain to me as adults about how horribly embarrassing it is to be the only people in their workplace who know absolutely nothing about AFL? And what about friendships? We seem to know and spend time with loads of people with kids of Chatterbox's age, but Miss Curie is the one who is starting to really crave friendships and we just don't seem to come across many people around her age who she really "clicks" with. OK, we just don't seem to come across many people her age at all lately.
Who do I talk to about these challenges? I don't want to talk to our friends with kids at school, because I know that dreaded question will come up - even if it's unspoken, I'll read it in their eyes - "why don't you just send them to school?" And then what would I say? What I think is: I don't have a choice. Which, of course, is ridiculous, because I do have a choice. But to me it's like a choice between right and wrong - home is right, school is wrong. I can hardly say that to a friend with kids at school, can I? Because that would be saying "I am right and you are wrong". Which is not what I mean or what I think... well, not exactly.
The further I get from the school world, the more wrong it seems. Appealing sometimes, yes. Tempting, definitely. But wrong. And yet, I have no doubt that other parents give very careful consideration, and very often prayer and study, just like me, to the question... and come up with school as the answer. And so... what can I say about these challenges to my schooly friends? I could hardly blame them for thinking "you made your bed, you lie in it." I think that myself. I chose to do this the hard way, so I shouldn't complain.
AND, there's that quiet worry that any admission of hardness or - gulp - failure - will reflect badly on the homeschooling community. I've learned to value that fragile freedom to choose our own educational path. I dare not jeopardize the opportunity for others to walk that path by admitting that homeschoolers aren't always entirely competent (gasp!).
BUT if I don't admit to the hard times - to the insecurity and fear of failure, to the feeling that "if one more person touches me today I think I'll explode", to the actual explosions that do happen - then I'm in danger of creating a universe of false expectations among those who walk with us and those who come after us.
BUT if I start talking about these scary moments, I might get so intense that we frighten others off the incredible blessing of this magnificent journey with our children.
And so, if you're like me, with all these opposing thoughts bouncing back and forth, you get trapped in your own head. Silent. Overflowing with all the things we don't say.
THEN maybe after a while I get past a scary bit and a bunch of things come together (hoping for this to happen soon!) and life and homeschooling all start running together like a well-oiled machine. And then of course, in our joy and exuberance I go and tell...
Hang on. If I start sharing the wonderful things we're learning and doing with schooly friends, they might start to feel defensive. It could well - probably will - come across as putting down conventional schooling. It would be like bragging. Oh.
SO, maybe I can share those great moments with homeschool friends.
EXCEPT a few have just had babies and are in survival mode and I know what that's like. Better not to say anything to them, because it might hurt them. And some others used to send their kids to school - they probably don't need me to rub their face in the regret of the difficult couple of years their kids just had at school . And... And, and, and...
Once again, the silence, overflowing with all the things I don't say.
Is it just me? Or is it all of us? Not just homeschoolers - all mothers? Are there a bazillion things we don't say because we just don't know how to say them right? Are we afraid of looking bad, or stupid, or obnoxious? Are we afraid of hurting each other?
I truly believe that I should be actively seeking not only not to hurt others, but to build up and encourage. How do I do that? That's the bit I'm still working on, but I'm pretty sure that there are some things that should be said, and I just need to work out how to say them.
There's more at stake now, you see. If a six-year-old can't read, it's easy enough to shrug it off and diagnose time, that fabulous cure-all. If a seven-year-old can't read, the anxiety begins to build. Will time be enough, or are more drastic measures called for? If an eight-year-old is still struggling to decipher a sentence, there is a definite tightness in the chest... Well, at least, that's how I'm imagining it would be. Thankfully my oldest two are reading and Chatterbox is well on her way. At least there I can breathe a sigh of relief.
But homeschooling a fourth-grader is starting to step up the pressure - albeit internal pressure. Lately, I've been feeling overwhelmed by life. I find myself wondering each day: "what should I be doing?" "Am I doing the right thing?" and the eternal question of the homeschooler: "Am I doing enough?"
What if I miss teaching something really important? Will my kids complain to me as adults about how horribly embarrassing it is to be the only people in their workplace who know absolutely nothing about AFL? And what about friendships? We seem to know and spend time with loads of people with kids of Chatterbox's age, but Miss Curie is the one who is starting to really crave friendships and we just don't seem to come across many people around her age who she really "clicks" with. OK, we just don't seem to come across many people her age at all lately.
Who do I talk to about these challenges? I don't want to talk to our friends with kids at school, because I know that dreaded question will come up - even if it's unspoken, I'll read it in their eyes - "why don't you just send them to school?" And then what would I say? What I think is: I don't have a choice. Which, of course, is ridiculous, because I do have a choice. But to me it's like a choice between right and wrong - home is right, school is wrong. I can hardly say that to a friend with kids at school, can I? Because that would be saying "I am right and you are wrong". Which is not what I mean or what I think... well, not exactly.
The further I get from the school world, the more wrong it seems. Appealing sometimes, yes. Tempting, definitely. But wrong. And yet, I have no doubt that other parents give very careful consideration, and very often prayer and study, just like me, to the question... and come up with school as the answer. And so... what can I say about these challenges to my schooly friends? I could hardly blame them for thinking "you made your bed, you lie in it." I think that myself. I chose to do this the hard way, so I shouldn't complain.
AND, there's that quiet worry that any admission of hardness or - gulp - failure - will reflect badly on the homeschooling community. I've learned to value that fragile freedom to choose our own educational path. I dare not jeopardize the opportunity for others to walk that path by admitting that homeschoolers aren't always entirely competent (gasp!).
BUT if I don't admit to the hard times - to the insecurity and fear of failure, to the feeling that "if one more person touches me today I think I'll explode", to the actual explosions that do happen - then I'm in danger of creating a universe of false expectations among those who walk with us and those who come after us.
BUT if I start talking about these scary moments, I might get so intense that we frighten others off the incredible blessing of this magnificent journey with our children.
And so, if you're like me, with all these opposing thoughts bouncing back and forth, you get trapped in your own head. Silent. Overflowing with all the things we don't say.
THEN maybe after a while I get past a scary bit and a bunch of things come together (hoping for this to happen soon!) and life and homeschooling all start running together like a well-oiled machine. And then of course, in our joy and exuberance I go and tell...
Hang on. If I start sharing the wonderful things we're learning and doing with schooly friends, they might start to feel defensive. It could well - probably will - come across as putting down conventional schooling. It would be like bragging. Oh.
SO, maybe I can share those great moments with homeschool friends.
EXCEPT a few have just had babies and are in survival mode and I know what that's like. Better not to say anything to them, because it might hurt them. And some others used to send their kids to school - they probably don't need me to rub their face in the regret of the difficult couple of years their kids just had at school . And... And, and, and...
Once again, the silence, overflowing with all the things I don't say.
Is it just me? Or is it all of us? Not just homeschoolers - all mothers? Are there a bazillion things we don't say because we just don't know how to say them right? Are we afraid of looking bad, or stupid, or obnoxious? Are we afraid of hurting each other?
I truly believe that I should be actively seeking not only not to hurt others, but to build up and encourage. How do I do that? That's the bit I'm still working on, but I'm pretty sure that there are some things that should be said, and I just need to work out how to say them.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Our New "System" of Homeschooling
A couple of months ago, I finally worked out a way to have a routine that isn't tied to the clock and empowers my older girls to be more independent. It's still a work in progress, but I feel like it's well on the way to getting order into our lives.
I started off by writing out a weekly schedule for each of the two older girls. It wasn't arranged by times, but by subjects and chores - e.g. Maths, English, Chickens (feeding and watering), Prayer, etc. For each day of the week, I added some specifications for each subject. Some subjects/chores were left blank for certain days of the week - e.g. we don't do Science every day and the girls alternate days looking after the chickens and watering the garden (although the watering hasn't happened for months because we've had plenty of rain).
The schedule definitely helped, but there was a lack of accountability, and so the girls were leaving out whole chunks of their schedule because they either didn't know what to do for a subject like Science (and they didn't want to come and ask me because that would be work!), or they really didn't want to be bothered with cleaning their room on a Wednesday.
So then I got a bunch of index cards, wrote a child's name, day of the week, and the month on each one, and wrote a list of things that were to be covered for that day down the left hand side. I then ruled four (or five) columns for the weeks of the month (so five columns for Wednesday if there are five Wednesdays in a particular month) and labelled them W1, W2, W3, W4. The idea is, each day they get out the card for that day of the week, and then tick the tasks as they do them (they can refer to their schedule if they need more detail - e.g. the card says "Maths", but some days "Maths" is to be mental maths, and other days they have the option of playing a thinking game). For each day that they tick off all their expected tasks, they can put a sticker on the calendar (some days I tell them to cross off particular tasks because we have other commitments or something can't be done that day). Of course, all this could be done on the computer, but I actually like doing it by hand... And at the end of the month I turn the card over and use the other side for the next month.
Lots of stickers on the calendar means some kind of reward at the end of the month. Last month went great. This month has had some interruptions and they've kind of dropped the ball, but that's OK, because now there's some kind of accountability and it gives me a visual representation of their general behaviour. I was finding before I put this system into place that I would often feel like we hadn't really had a good day, but couldn't put into words why, but now I can point out to them - "you got as far as making your bed, and then went off and did your own thing without asking me. I want you to work on your responsibilities without me nagging you every step of the way." And of course, on the other hand, it helps me to recognize and appreciate the really good days and to separate the two older girls rather than get upset with both when just one of them has been slacking off, but the other has been diligent.
Now I'm doing some more tweaking and working on defining the "projects" more clearly for them, so they can start to work independently on a long-term project. I'm also thinking of dropping "English" off the list altogether and incorporating it into the other subjects - teaching spelling and writing through the things that write for those other subjects. I may consider incorporating "Maths" more into other subjects as well and perhaps only covering it a couple of days a week as its own subject.
I have so much more to grow in - above all, maintaining my priorities in the right order! On these cards, I've tried to write the tasks in priority/chronological order, although sometimes I've forgotten an important task until I got to the end of the list. :)
Anyway, I'm sharing this in the hopes that it might be helpful to other homeschool Mums (or Moms!) in developing their own unique systems. Feel free to ask any questions :)
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Focus Fatigue and The Multi-tasking Myth
I've read a few forum discussions recently about coping with homeschooling if you're an introvert. I've considered myself an introvert for many years now, but I was puzzling over this "diagnosis" after a morning meet-up with a friend. I came home buzzing and ready for more social interaction... And then I had an afternoon of social interaction and felt ready to collapse afterwards. That day led me to question my own beliefs about myself - what fills me up and what empties me out.
I started to notice that my feelings of emotional exhaustion were coming from a different place than I had originally thought. Over the last few weeks, I've come to a few conclusions which may be all about me and how my brain operates, but I suspect they will be true for many other people (perhaps especially other homeschooling mothers) as well.
For a long time I have attributed the feelings of utter exhaustion and "can't-wait-for-everyone-to-be-in-bed" at the end of the day (and, yes, often by the middle of the day!) to the demands of being a mother and on-call all the time, to everyone. But I've started to realise that a lot of what I'm feeling is what I'll call "focus fatigue". Often it's the days when I've actually snuck in a lot of "time to myself" that I feel the most run-down. The days when I've told the older girls to "keep an eye on Baby" - while I do online shopping or participate in forums or read a book or try to get some precious sewing done - are those that most often end in disaster.
No, I'm not going to start preaching a sermon against "down time", but I've finally twigged that there is a part of me that is listening to the rest of the house - a part of me is crouched in anticipation of the inevitable interruptions. And, for me, focusing on more than one task at a time leads to fatigue. Yep, the idea that all women - and especially mothers - are good at multi-tasking is a myth that has definitely been busted in this house.
For a while I was listening to the radio a lot while preparing dinner or cleaning the kitchen. Often while music practice was going on in the background. And then someone would come and ask me a question. The result: immediate "frazzlement". I just couldn't cope with all those inputs at once. Between subconsciously listening for areas that the music practicer needed help, taking in the content of the radio program, calculating how many carrots would be needed for dinner if the toddler sitting at the bench had already eaten two and a half and keeping an eye on the school work going on (or not) at the kitchen table, my brain was already in overload.
I'm learning that if I cut down on inputs and give up some of those activities that were "for me" (listening to the radio, for example), I actually end up in a much healthier mental place. If I can limit my focus to one or two things at a time, it's better for my relationships and my mental health.
That means pausing the carrot calculations to really listen to and answer a maths question. It means sitting down with Baby and reading a book or playing a game so I can send her away to play or shut her in her room for a few minutes while I throw together dinner without guilt. It means just listening to the music practice - or listening while doing something that requires no mental effort like stirring a pot or kneading bread.
I've discovered incredibly that by choosing to give more completely of myself to my family - by sitting down and having a conversation or playing a game - instead of half-heartedly answering an endless list of questions while my mind is in another place - I have more energy at the end of the day for "my" stuff (assuming it still seems important by then, which it often doesn't!).
I'd like to point out a couple of things, though. Firstly, this grand revelation has occurred at a time when there are no babies in the house, and I'm not pregnant. I'm sure that if I was waking four or five times a night to feed a baby, or if my physical resources were all directed towards incubating a new human life, I would find just plain, ordinary life pretty much exhausting, even without unnecessary distractions.
Secondly, there is a framework of (theoretically reasonable) rules and expectations in our home. When those rules are violated for any length of time (for example, everyone starts talking at once or someone tries to have a conversation with me by yelling from another room) I go pretty quickly from calm to my-brain-is-about-to-explode-crazy. Which is when I have to remember that I'm an adult, take some slow, deep breaths and remind everyone (including myself) of the standards.
And one last thing helping the transformation to a less-crazy me is that I've put a bunch of expectations in writing for the older girls. I hope to come back to this in another post, but I have finally worked out a system of setting a routine that is flexible enough to work around sickness and surprise phone calls and shopping, but rigid enough to require results. This has particularly been helpful because the girls don't have to keep asking me what they need to do next. My part in this still needs some more work because I think Miss Curie is ready to start working on some more long-term projects, but I feel like we're at least on track and good habits are in the making.
So am I an introvert? Probably. Maybe. What I do know is that recognizing and cutting down on focus fatigue is helping me to ride the wave that is motherhood ... instead of getting dumped by it.
I started to notice that my feelings of emotional exhaustion were coming from a different place than I had originally thought. Over the last few weeks, I've come to a few conclusions which may be all about me and how my brain operates, but I suspect they will be true for many other people (perhaps especially other homeschooling mothers) as well.
For a long time I have attributed the feelings of utter exhaustion and "can't-wait-for-everyone-to-be-in-bed" at the end of the day (and, yes, often by the middle of the day!) to the demands of being a mother and on-call all the time, to everyone. But I've started to realise that a lot of what I'm feeling is what I'll call "focus fatigue". Often it's the days when I've actually snuck in a lot of "time to myself" that I feel the most run-down. The days when I've told the older girls to "keep an eye on Baby" - while I do online shopping or participate in forums or read a book or try to get some precious sewing done - are those that most often end in disaster.
No, I'm not going to start preaching a sermon against "down time", but I've finally twigged that there is a part of me that is listening to the rest of the house - a part of me is crouched in anticipation of the inevitable interruptions. And, for me, focusing on more than one task at a time leads to fatigue. Yep, the idea that all women - and especially mothers - are good at multi-tasking is a myth that has definitely been busted in this house.
For a while I was listening to the radio a lot while preparing dinner or cleaning the kitchen. Often while music practice was going on in the background. And then someone would come and ask me a question. The result: immediate "frazzlement". I just couldn't cope with all those inputs at once. Between subconsciously listening for areas that the music practicer needed help, taking in the content of the radio program, calculating how many carrots would be needed for dinner if the toddler sitting at the bench had already eaten two and a half and keeping an eye on the school work going on (or not) at the kitchen table, my brain was already in overload.
I'm learning that if I cut down on inputs and give up some of those activities that were "for me" (listening to the radio, for example), I actually end up in a much healthier mental place. If I can limit my focus to one or two things at a time, it's better for my relationships and my mental health.
That means pausing the carrot calculations to really listen to and answer a maths question. It means sitting down with Baby and reading a book or playing a game so I can send her away to play or shut her in her room for a few minutes while I throw together dinner without guilt. It means just listening to the music practice - or listening while doing something that requires no mental effort like stirring a pot or kneading bread.
I've discovered incredibly that by choosing to give more completely of myself to my family - by sitting down and having a conversation or playing a game - instead of half-heartedly answering an endless list of questions while my mind is in another place - I have more energy at the end of the day for "my" stuff (assuming it still seems important by then, which it often doesn't!).
I'd like to point out a couple of things, though. Firstly, this grand revelation has occurred at a time when there are no babies in the house, and I'm not pregnant. I'm sure that if I was waking four or five times a night to feed a baby, or if my physical resources were all directed towards incubating a new human life, I would find just plain, ordinary life pretty much exhausting, even without unnecessary distractions.
Secondly, there is a framework of (theoretically reasonable) rules and expectations in our home. When those rules are violated for any length of time (for example, everyone starts talking at once or someone tries to have a conversation with me by yelling from another room) I go pretty quickly from calm to my-brain-is-about-to-explode-crazy. Which is when I have to remember that I'm an adult, take some slow, deep breaths and remind everyone (including myself) of the standards.
And one last thing helping the transformation to a less-crazy me is that I've put a bunch of expectations in writing for the older girls. I hope to come back to this in another post, but I have finally worked out a system of setting a routine that is flexible enough to work around sickness and surprise phone calls and shopping, but rigid enough to require results. This has particularly been helpful because the girls don't have to keep asking me what they need to do next. My part in this still needs some more work because I think Miss Curie is ready to start working on some more long-term projects, but I feel like we're at least on track and good habits are in the making.
So am I an introvert? Probably. Maybe. What I do know is that recognizing and cutting down on focus fatigue is helping me to ride the wave that is motherhood ... instead of getting dumped by it.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
You Are Not Enough
Yep. You read that right. You are not enough. All the slick marketing companies are right about that (but wrong about everything else). You're not good enough.
You will never be the smartest, funniest, kindest... or if by some miracle you are the one in six billion who is the best at something you do, it won't last. Tomorrow, or next week, or next year, someone else will be smarter, funnier, kinder...
Meanwhile, you've got this great big gaping hole inside you and you can't fix it.
So.
What next?
Are you going to spend your life letting that hole consume you from the inside out? Are you going to spend your life eaten up by all the things that you can't do? By all the things you're not good at? Because let me tell you, there are a lot of things you're not good at and a looooot of people who are "better" than you. It hardly seems like a good plan, does it?
So why do you let all the ridiculous expectations and false guilt pile up on top of you until you can't breathe?
I'm talking to myself as much as to anyone else.
Here's a better plan. Go to the Place that you can get your brokenness fixed. Go to the One who can fill up that hole with something that won't dissolve into an even bigger nothingness.
And then live a life that actually expresses your incredible and undying gratitude that even though you are not enough, Someone loves you enough to die so that you can live.
Go on, try it.
You will never be the smartest, funniest, kindest... or if by some miracle you are the one in six billion who is the best at something you do, it won't last. Tomorrow, or next week, or next year, someone else will be smarter, funnier, kinder...
Meanwhile, you've got this great big gaping hole inside you and you can't fix it.
So.
What next?
Are you going to spend your life letting that hole consume you from the inside out? Are you going to spend your life eaten up by all the things that you can't do? By all the things you're not good at? Because let me tell you, there are a lot of things you're not good at and a looooot of people who are "better" than you. It hardly seems like a good plan, does it?
So why do you let all the ridiculous expectations and false guilt pile up on top of you until you can't breathe?
I'm talking to myself as much as to anyone else.
Here's a better plan. Go to the Place that you can get your brokenness fixed. Go to the One who can fill up that hole with something that won't dissolve into an even bigger nothingness.
And then live a life that actually expresses your incredible and undying gratitude that even though you are not enough, Someone loves you enough to die so that you can live.
Go on, try it.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Smart Survival Parenting
We'll probably all experience at least a bout of survival parenting sometime. I mean those times when you're just barely keeping your head above water. Times when - if a visitor pops in unannounced - there is the distinct possibility that they will find a wet patch on one of your dining chairs (which you desperately hope was spilt from a drink of water, and not something else). Times when the phrase "you could just..." strike you with both guilt and rage in equal measure. Guilt that you're not doing what you could, and rage that others have no idea that you really couldn't just.
I've had some extended periods of survival parenting, when life's circumstances conspired together to make me feel like I was drowning in my own life. One of those times was when I was up night after night for hours on end with Angelina screaming in pain. I was pregnant with Chatterbox. And then we all got a terrible gastro bug - while living for several weeks in a one bedroom "unit" with a bathroom that was a metre wide (no bath, of course) and a kitchen approximately the size of a single bed (no oven, of course).
I did what many, many desperate mothers have done before and since. Morning and afternoon, I turned on Playschool. (Don't worry, this is not going to turn into a rant against Playschool - bear with me.) At first, my children didn't know that television existed apart from Playschool. The TV would go off faithfully the moment it was finished. Then, I started turning it on a liiiiitttle bit before Playschool started, and left it on for that teeny little program after Playschool. And then I thought that one program was so teeny tiny, it wouldn't hurt to leave it on for the next one as well.
Then something happened. I woke up. My children were starting to simply exist. They lived for when the TV was on. They started to chuck hissy fits when I turned it off. I suddenly realised that putting the kids in front of the TV wasn't helping me keep my head above water, it was dragging me under. I'll come back to that.
Survival parenting is hard, by it's very nature. But. It doesn't have to be bad. In fact, smart survival parenting can be very, very good. As I have learned through several episodes of st#p*d (stupid is a dirty word in our house) survival parenting.
Here are some of the best lessons I've learned through my survival parenting experiences. They're not rules, and they may not fit your circumstances, but maybe there's something in my journey that will resonate with you.
1) Whenever possible, spare some of your energy for setting up systems to help your kids become independent and even helpful. If you have zero energy, but help is available, you might suggest to your helpers that they teach your kids to make a sandwich or a salad or sushi... Or you could ask them (if you're very brave) - or do this yourself - to rearrange your kitchen so plates and utensils are within easy reach of the children (if they're old enough to be trusted not to impale themselves on a butter knife).
2) Encourage reading. Once one child is able to read well enough to follow directions, you can give them a recipe or write out a set of jobs for them to do, or let them learn through independent reading. This has been a huge help for me.
3) Recognize strengths - and learn to use them! I've learnt that Angelina is the best at hearing me call out - if I have a message to deliver, but am sick in bed, she's the one I call. (I rarely bother to call Miss Curie - it takes less energy to go and find her and rouse her from whatever daydream she happens to be in the midst of :).) If I want a job done without complaining, I ask Miss Curie. If I want help with cooking, I ask Chatterbox.
4) Invest in discipline. And I don't mean punishment, necessarily, although I do believe it is called for at times. When you're barely surviving it is incredibly hard to put the necessary work into teaching children strong values, but it is soooo much better to force yourself to deal with issues such as meanness and lying straight away - to set the standard and stick to it doggedly - than to let things slide for a time. I've done it both ways, and I'm slowly learning that it is better for us to miss a meal than to "miss" an issue.
5) Following on from that: Expect everyone to contribute. Don't make clean up optional - for example teach your kids (if you possibly can) how to wash dishes or load the dishwasher and set the expectation that it gets done after every meal (there are still some "gentle" reminders that have to happen in our house!).
6) Let go of stuff that doesn't matter. For example cloth nappies don't get folded here, they get shoved in a box (I appreciate that for some folding may be necessary where there is limited storage space). I also hang them up just by a corner (I know this wouldn't work in really damp climates). (Again, these aren't rules, just examples of how I survive.) Nor do I make any particular effort to remove stains from nappies - after all, they're just going back on a bottom!
7) On the other hand, hang on to the stuff that does matter. First, most important thing here is Bible reading. Yes, I'm human and get slack sometimes, but I really try to cling to this one and make sure I read (or discuss) Bible with the girls each and every day, regardless of what else is happening.
8) Be efficient and try to take small steps forward rather than procrastinating. On those days when I feel like hibernating for several years, I try to choose one small thing to do. That might be taking the bottle of (environmentally friendly, of course ;)) toilet cleaner in to the toilet with me so I clean the toilet after I've used it. It might be wiping the bathroom sink after I've brushed my hair... I often find once I've taken that one small step past total paralysis, the rest get easier.
9) Get rid of junk. Nowadays, if I find a toy (as long as it's not something really special such as the doll quilts made by my cousin and aunt) left out by one of the bigger kids, I chuck it or op shop it. Ditto if I discover trinkets that have lived at the back of a drawer for several years, unless I have a use for them straight away. Ditto if I don't like the way an item of clothing fits and it's not practical to adjust it. Ditto if a toy hasn't been played with in forEVER (we're members of the toy library, so we can always borrow something similar). This includes lollies that we're given that I don't want my kids to eat. I just throw them away now. It is SO not worth letting stuff drain your precious energy.
10) Now that I've made it all the way to nine points, I feel like I should have a tenth. Here we go. Don't let yourself get weighed down with other people's expectations - including the expectation to have exactly ten tips on any given subject.
One last suggestion - try not to depend on one child as your helper. If there is one kid in the house who is always helpful and agreeable, it's easy to place unreasonable burdens on them - don't let this happen - make sure everyone pulls their weight in whatever ways they can. (It's nerve-wracking, now that we have a tiled kitchen floor, but I even get Baby to help load/unload the dishwasher sometimes.)
Don't be afraid of survival parenting - the experience can be one of incredibly positive growth and strengthening relationships for the whole family. The trick is, whoever you are, whatever your circumstances, search out ways to be smart about it. If it's important, it's possible. If it's impossible, it's not important.
I've had some extended periods of survival parenting, when life's circumstances conspired together to make me feel like I was drowning in my own life. One of those times was when I was up night after night for hours on end with Angelina screaming in pain. I was pregnant with Chatterbox. And then we all got a terrible gastro bug - while living for several weeks in a one bedroom "unit" with a bathroom that was a metre wide (no bath, of course) and a kitchen approximately the size of a single bed (no oven, of course).
I did what many, many desperate mothers have done before and since. Morning and afternoon, I turned on Playschool. (Don't worry, this is not going to turn into a rant against Playschool - bear with me.) At first, my children didn't know that television existed apart from Playschool. The TV would go off faithfully the moment it was finished. Then, I started turning it on a liiiiitttle bit before Playschool started, and left it on for that teeny little program after Playschool. And then I thought that one program was so teeny tiny, it wouldn't hurt to leave it on for the next one as well.
Then something happened. I woke up. My children were starting to simply exist. They lived for when the TV was on. They started to chuck hissy fits when I turned it off. I suddenly realised that putting the kids in front of the TV wasn't helping me keep my head above water, it was dragging me under. I'll come back to that.
Survival parenting is hard, by it's very nature. But. It doesn't have to be bad. In fact, smart survival parenting can be very, very good. As I have learned through several episodes of st#p*d (stupid is a dirty word in our house) survival parenting.
Here are some of the best lessons I've learned through my survival parenting experiences. They're not rules, and they may not fit your circumstances, but maybe there's something in my journey that will resonate with you.
1) Whenever possible, spare some of your energy for setting up systems to help your kids become independent and even helpful. If you have zero energy, but help is available, you might suggest to your helpers that they teach your kids to make a sandwich or a salad or sushi... Or you could ask them (if you're very brave) - or do this yourself - to rearrange your kitchen so plates and utensils are within easy reach of the children (if they're old enough to be trusted not to impale themselves on a butter knife).
2) Encourage reading. Once one child is able to read well enough to follow directions, you can give them a recipe or write out a set of jobs for them to do, or let them learn through independent reading. This has been a huge help for me.
3) Recognize strengths - and learn to use them! I've learnt that Angelina is the best at hearing me call out - if I have a message to deliver, but am sick in bed, she's the one I call. (I rarely bother to call Miss Curie - it takes less energy to go and find her and rouse her from whatever daydream she happens to be in the midst of :).) If I want a job done without complaining, I ask Miss Curie. If I want help with cooking, I ask Chatterbox.
4) Invest in discipline. And I don't mean punishment, necessarily, although I do believe it is called for at times. When you're barely surviving it is incredibly hard to put the necessary work into teaching children strong values, but it is soooo much better to force yourself to deal with issues such as meanness and lying straight away - to set the standard and stick to it doggedly - than to let things slide for a time. I've done it both ways, and I'm slowly learning that it is better for us to miss a meal than to "miss" an issue.
5) Following on from that: Expect everyone to contribute. Don't make clean up optional - for example teach your kids (if you possibly can) how to wash dishes or load the dishwasher and set the expectation that it gets done after every meal (there are still some "gentle" reminders that have to happen in our house!).
6) Let go of stuff that doesn't matter. For example cloth nappies don't get folded here, they get shoved in a box (I appreciate that for some folding may be necessary where there is limited storage space). I also hang them up just by a corner (I know this wouldn't work in really damp climates). (Again, these aren't rules, just examples of how I survive.) Nor do I make any particular effort to remove stains from nappies - after all, they're just going back on a bottom!
7) On the other hand, hang on to the stuff that does matter. First, most important thing here is Bible reading. Yes, I'm human and get slack sometimes, but I really try to cling to this one and make sure I read (or discuss) Bible with the girls each and every day, regardless of what else is happening.
8) Be efficient and try to take small steps forward rather than procrastinating. On those days when I feel like hibernating for several years, I try to choose one small thing to do. That might be taking the bottle of (environmentally friendly, of course ;)) toilet cleaner in to the toilet with me so I clean the toilet after I've used it. It might be wiping the bathroom sink after I've brushed my hair... I often find once I've taken that one small step past total paralysis, the rest get easier.
9) Get rid of junk. Nowadays, if I find a toy (as long as it's not something really special such as the doll quilts made by my cousin and aunt) left out by one of the bigger kids, I chuck it or op shop it. Ditto if I discover trinkets that have lived at the back of a drawer for several years, unless I have a use for them straight away. Ditto if I don't like the way an item of clothing fits and it's not practical to adjust it. Ditto if a toy hasn't been played with in forEVER (we're members of the toy library, so we can always borrow something similar). This includes lollies that we're given that I don't want my kids to eat. I just throw them away now. It is SO not worth letting stuff drain your precious energy.
10) Now that I've made it all the way to nine points, I feel like I should have a tenth. Here we go. Don't let yourself get weighed down with other people's expectations - including the expectation to have exactly ten tips on any given subject.
One last suggestion - try not to depend on one child as your helper. If there is one kid in the house who is always helpful and agreeable, it's easy to place unreasonable burdens on them - don't let this happen - make sure everyone pulls their weight in whatever ways they can. (It's nerve-wracking, now that we have a tiled kitchen floor, but I even get Baby to help load/unload the dishwasher sometimes.)
Don't be afraid of survival parenting - the experience can be one of incredibly positive growth and strengthening relationships for the whole family. The trick is, whoever you are, whatever your circumstances, search out ways to be smart about it. If it's important, it's possible. If it's impossible, it's not important.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
There's a Better Way to Do This
Often when I write, I add a lot of qualifiers - "if", "perhaps", "maybe"... Not today. I'm just going to say it right out: there's a better way to do this.
By "this" I mean health. I've had some ups and downs with my health recently, as has the Raamonster. Doctors have a very one-eyed view of miscellaneous aches and pains and fatigue. They tend to do a lot of tests and then say something along the lines of: "eat less, exercise more, and take these drugs." Just to emphasis the point, Specialists like to send you a very large bill for the privelege of receiving this advice from a professional.
I'm all for plenty of exercise and a healthy diet. I'm troubled by what gets defined as a healthy diet (or, in fact, a healthy body) when you delve a little deeper. I'm particularly troubled that (supposedly) health-promoting organizations get paid for their endorsements of foods. Surely it is a conflict of interest for medical research to be funded by food companies??
So, I want to cut through all the confusion about what's healthy and what's not. I'm not completely unqualified to voice my opinion on this - I majored in Biochemistry not so many years ago.
It is really very, very simple. Real food and real life are good for you. Fake food and fake life are not. Seriously. Let me explain.
God put Adam and Eve in the garden and told them that every green thing was theirs for food. Yes, some plants are poisonous, but with very few exceptions if something tastes good, comes from a plant and is recognisable - it is good to eat. Sugar tastes good, it comes from a plant, and it looks nothing like the original product. (I'm not saying I don't eat sugar, but I'm really, really trying to cut down.) Sugar is not good for you.
Let me add another guideline - the amount you eat of any food should be inversely proportional to the effort (whether yours or someone else's) required to get it into your mouth. That sounds really complicated, but it's not. If we had to pick and shell our own macadamias, we wouldn't eat many, would we? If we had to pick, shell, blanch and grind by hand the almonds in a yummy cake (not to mention extract the sugar), we would probably make a slice last more than thirty seconds... And we would probably eat it approximately once a year.
And here's another suggestion - if I can't make a food easily at home myself, then it's probably not really edible. I'm not sure how the oil is extracted from canola, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't make my own press and then whip up a batch of margarine. If I could, the results would probably be so revolting that I would never ever eat it again.
Here's another principle: If God says it's good to eat, then it's good to eat. If God says it's not good to eat, then it's not. I'm not sure why we're so distrusting of God's guidance on this point, considering He made both us and our food. "A land flowing with milk and honey," was God's promise to Israel, ergo, milk and honey aren't inherently evil. Jesus Christ called Himself the Bread of Life - so it is downright insulting to God to insist that grain products are inherently evil unhealthy.
On the other hand, God said not to eat certain animals (He even used the word "abomination", which is also the word used for behaviours so vile they are unmentionable in a public blog.) So I don't eat them. I don't need scientific proof that pork or shark or squid are bad for me. God tells me not to eat them. Done.
OK, there is a problem here. The reality is that there are people with serious allergies or intolerances to real foods. Unfortunately a large proportion of our food supply has been seriously adulterated in the quest to "improve" yields, or flavour, or just to make a whole lot more money.
So sometimes even "real" foods aren't the best to eat, but we can at least use some common sense to choose the best alternative (e.g. soy milk loaded with canola and sugar is hardly the ideal dairy replacement).
My point is, we've placed far too much trust in professionals telling us what is good for us and stopped actually thinking for ourselves about what is going into our mouths. No matter how many ticks are on a box, or what claims a producer makes about something being "natural" or "organic", there is no substitute for listening to our better judgement. If a packaged food is "convenient" then there is a good chance that there is a big compromise on the quality of calories in the product.
The last thing I'm going to say for now - simple foods can be convenient (although I know this may not be true if you have the misfortune to have coeliac disease or another food sensitivity/intolerance/allergy or metabolic disorder). For example oats or porridge and milk (we drink the closest to "real" we can get - unhomogenised "organic" milk) is just as convenient as cornflakes, and a much healthier, more filling option. Add a piece of fruit and you have a complete breakfast.
Healthy is not just a way of eating, it's a way of thinking. More to come another time...
By "this" I mean health. I've had some ups and downs with my health recently, as has the Raamonster. Doctors have a very one-eyed view of miscellaneous aches and pains and fatigue. They tend to do a lot of tests and then say something along the lines of: "eat less, exercise more, and take these drugs." Just to emphasis the point, Specialists like to send you a very large bill for the privelege of receiving this advice from a professional.
I'm all for plenty of exercise and a healthy diet. I'm troubled by what gets defined as a healthy diet (or, in fact, a healthy body) when you delve a little deeper. I'm particularly troubled that (supposedly) health-promoting organizations get paid for their endorsements of foods. Surely it is a conflict of interest for medical research to be funded by food companies??
So, I want to cut through all the confusion about what's healthy and what's not. I'm not completely unqualified to voice my opinion on this - I majored in Biochemistry not so many years ago.
It is really very, very simple. Real food and real life are good for you. Fake food and fake life are not. Seriously. Let me explain.
God put Adam and Eve in the garden and told them that every green thing was theirs for food. Yes, some plants are poisonous, but with very few exceptions if something tastes good, comes from a plant and is recognisable - it is good to eat. Sugar tastes good, it comes from a plant, and it looks nothing like the original product. (I'm not saying I don't eat sugar, but I'm really, really trying to cut down.) Sugar is not good for you.
Let me add another guideline - the amount you eat of any food should be inversely proportional to the effort (whether yours or someone else's) required to get it into your mouth. That sounds really complicated, but it's not. If we had to pick and shell our own macadamias, we wouldn't eat many, would we? If we had to pick, shell, blanch and grind by hand the almonds in a yummy cake (not to mention extract the sugar), we would probably make a slice last more than thirty seconds... And we would probably eat it approximately once a year.
And here's another suggestion - if I can't make a food easily at home myself, then it's probably not really edible. I'm not sure how the oil is extracted from canola, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't make my own press and then whip up a batch of margarine. If I could, the results would probably be so revolting that I would never ever eat it again.
Here's another principle: If God says it's good to eat, then it's good to eat. If God says it's not good to eat, then it's not. I'm not sure why we're so distrusting of God's guidance on this point, considering He made both us and our food. "A land flowing with milk and honey," was God's promise to Israel, ergo, milk and honey aren't inherently evil. Jesus Christ called Himself the Bread of Life - so it is downright insulting to God to insist that grain products are inherently evil unhealthy.
On the other hand, God said not to eat certain animals (He even used the word "abomination", which is also the word used for behaviours so vile they are unmentionable in a public blog.) So I don't eat them. I don't need scientific proof that pork or shark or squid are bad for me. God tells me not to eat them. Done.
OK, there is a problem here. The reality is that there are people with serious allergies or intolerances to real foods. Unfortunately a large proportion of our food supply has been seriously adulterated in the quest to "improve" yields, or flavour, or just to make a whole lot more money.
So sometimes even "real" foods aren't the best to eat, but we can at least use some common sense to choose the best alternative (e.g. soy milk loaded with canola and sugar is hardly the ideal dairy replacement).
My point is, we've placed far too much trust in professionals telling us what is good for us and stopped actually thinking for ourselves about what is going into our mouths. No matter how many ticks are on a box, or what claims a producer makes about something being "natural" or "organic", there is no substitute for listening to our better judgement. If a packaged food is "convenient" then there is a good chance that there is a big compromise on the quality of calories in the product.
The last thing I'm going to say for now - simple foods can be convenient (although I know this may not be true if you have the misfortune to have coeliac disease or another food sensitivity/intolerance/allergy or metabolic disorder). For example oats or porridge and milk (we drink the closest to "real" we can get - unhomogenised "organic" milk) is just as convenient as cornflakes, and a much healthier, more filling option. Add a piece of fruit and you have a complete breakfast.
Healthy is not just a way of eating, it's a way of thinking. More to come another time...
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Bedtime Battles
OK. She wins. Baby is officially the. most. difficult. toddler. in our family to put to bed.
Let me offer proof with an example. The other night. Put Baby (otherwise known affectionately as "Monster" - I've been calling her that a lot the last couple of weeks.) to bed at a reasonable hour and sat down at my desk to attend to bills, etc. Within approximately thirty seconds she was out of bed.
She stood in the doorway, poised to run - waited for me to look her in the eye and then legged it back to bed. This is a frequent occurence. In case you don't understand the use of the word "frequent" this often happens ten or more times in an evening. The administration of firm "consequences" appears not to be a deterrent to this behaviour.
Finally the other night, I got smart and shut the door after I put her back to bed. Immediately - and I mean immediately, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a nappy being removed. This is what we call emotional blackmail. However, I was going to be smarter than the toddler. With steely resolve I held my ground and did not rush in to restore the nappy to its rightful place. Once Monster eventually fell asleep (as she surely would), then I would put the nappy back on. That was my plan.
I was reminded of my plan at two in the morning when I woke to the sound of Monster bellowing, "MuuuuuuuMMMYYYY! MuuuuuuMMMMYYYY! I do wees!!!" Yes, she surely won. The Baby lured me into her room once again to deal with a very, very wet bed and to put back on the nappy.
Moments after I stumbled back to my own bed, there was a pitter-pat of feet and a small person appeared at my bedside. Foiled again - I had foolishly left her bedroom door open.
I keep saying, that kid is SOOOO lucky that's she's really cute.
Let me offer proof with an example. The other night. Put Baby (otherwise known affectionately as "Monster" - I've been calling her that a lot the last couple of weeks.) to bed at a reasonable hour and sat down at my desk to attend to bills, etc. Within approximately thirty seconds she was out of bed.
She stood in the doorway, poised to run - waited for me to look her in the eye and then legged it back to bed. This is a frequent occurence. In case you don't understand the use of the word "frequent" this often happens ten or more times in an evening. The administration of firm "consequences" appears not to be a deterrent to this behaviour.
Finally the other night, I got smart and shut the door after I put her back to bed. Immediately - and I mean immediately, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a nappy being removed. This is what we call emotional blackmail. However, I was going to be smarter than the toddler. With steely resolve I held my ground and did not rush in to restore the nappy to its rightful place. Once Monster eventually fell asleep (as she surely would), then I would put the nappy back on. That was my plan.
I was reminded of my plan at two in the morning when I woke to the sound of Monster bellowing, "MuuuuuuuMMMYYYY! MuuuuuuMMMMYYYY! I do wees!!!" Yes, she surely won. The Baby lured me into her room once again to deal with a very, very wet bed and to put back on the nappy.
Moments after I stumbled back to my own bed, there was a pitter-pat of feet and a small person appeared at my bedside. Foiled again - I had foolishly left her bedroom door open.
I keep saying, that kid is SOOOO lucky that's she's really cute.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Exercise - It CAN Be Done!
About six years ago, the Raamonster and I went for a bike ride with the only two kids we had at the time. I remember being completely exhausted and totally unmotivated to repeat the experience any time soon.
I rode to the same spot recently... and then way past it with Baby on the back of my bike and the three older girls riding ahead of me. Many thoughts went through my head as I cruised past the playground we visited so many years ago. The main one was I can't believe how unfit I was!
What's exciting is that now I am finally getting fit and healthy again. I was going to say that it all started four weeks ago, but no, it all started six months ago. My lovely, energetic, and awesome friend at Strollerobics demonstrated just by her great example that it is important to be as healthy as we can and that it can be done. And hey, if I can do it, anyone (barring insurmountable obstacles such as being bed-bound) can do it.
It took me a while to really get going - for a while I was jogging on the spot while hanging out the washing or finding ways to exercise before the kids got up in the morning, but then I dropped the ball. Now, though I have well and truly picked it up again. An important part of picking up that ball was realising that I'm not just responsible for my personal fitness, but my kids' fitness as well.
So, while the weather is fine, we're going to the park most mornings (a couple of days we've been for bike rides, we went to a nature reserve once and we've also been swimming a couple of times instead) right after Bible time. At the park, the girls have been riding their bikes around or running around and playing while I run/walk around the perimeter and do the occasional push up or sit up.
For ages I've made excuses for myself about why getting fit is too hard. Admittedly, a pregnancy can always throw a spanner in the works (at least that's an excuse I don't have at the moment!). But I finally realised it was time to ditch the excuses and find something that would work.
If you're unfit and full of excuses like I was, it helps to look at what is important and what can be done. Going to the gym before my husband leaves for work is unachievable and undesirable for me for many reasons (I really struggle with early mornings, the cost is prohibitive, etc, etc.) Getting outside as much as possible is important for me because my mental health suffers if I don't spend time outside in the sun regularly.
Taking a good hard look at my reality and what really matters helped me to get out of my rut (plus the positive influence of that wonderful friend!). And, importantly - trying stuff was a huge step in the right direction. I tried a few mornings to go for a run early in the morning - I enjoyed the benefits of better sleep and improved energy levels, but soon realised I couldn't possibly sustain the 5.30 or 6.00 am start necessary to keep this up. Even though I realised that that wasn't going to work, I suddenly found myself motivated to find something that would work.
So if you're stuck in the sedentary rut - just try something to get moving - you may well find (like me) that the more you try, the more you start looking for ways to make fitness work and the more open you are to possibilities. It's OK to start small - I'm exercising longer and harder than I was to start with, and feeling the benefits (apart from some knee problems that I'll have to learn to work around :().
Truly - it can be done - why don't you give it a try and tell me how you go?
I rode to the same spot recently... and then way past it with Baby on the back of my bike and the three older girls riding ahead of me. Many thoughts went through my head as I cruised past the playground we visited so many years ago. The main one was I can't believe how unfit I was!
What's exciting is that now I am finally getting fit and healthy again. I was going to say that it all started four weeks ago, but no, it all started six months ago. My lovely, energetic, and awesome friend at Strollerobics demonstrated just by her great example that it is important to be as healthy as we can and that it can be done. And hey, if I can do it, anyone (barring insurmountable obstacles such as being bed-bound) can do it.
It took me a while to really get going - for a while I was jogging on the spot while hanging out the washing or finding ways to exercise before the kids got up in the morning, but then I dropped the ball. Now, though I have well and truly picked it up again. An important part of picking up that ball was realising that I'm not just responsible for my personal fitness, but my kids' fitness as well.
So, while the weather is fine, we're going to the park most mornings (a couple of days we've been for bike rides, we went to a nature reserve once and we've also been swimming a couple of times instead) right after Bible time. At the park, the girls have been riding their bikes around or running around and playing while I run/walk around the perimeter and do the occasional push up or sit up.
For ages I've made excuses for myself about why getting fit is too hard. Admittedly, a pregnancy can always throw a spanner in the works (at least that's an excuse I don't have at the moment!). But I finally realised it was time to ditch the excuses and find something that would work.
If you're unfit and full of excuses like I was, it helps to look at what is important and what can be done. Going to the gym before my husband leaves for work is unachievable and undesirable for me for many reasons (I really struggle with early mornings, the cost is prohibitive, etc, etc.) Getting outside as much as possible is important for me because my mental health suffers if I don't spend time outside in the sun regularly.
Taking a good hard look at my reality and what really matters helped me to get out of my rut (plus the positive influence of that wonderful friend!). And, importantly - trying stuff was a huge step in the right direction. I tried a few mornings to go for a run early in the morning - I enjoyed the benefits of better sleep and improved energy levels, but soon realised I couldn't possibly sustain the 5.30 or 6.00 am start necessary to keep this up. Even though I realised that that wasn't going to work, I suddenly found myself motivated to find something that would work.
So if you're stuck in the sedentary rut - just try something to get moving - you may well find (like me) that the more you try, the more you start looking for ways to make fitness work and the more open you are to possibilities. It's OK to start small - I'm exercising longer and harder than I was to start with, and feeling the benefits (apart from some knee problems that I'll have to learn to work around :().
Truly - it can be done - why don't you give it a try and tell me how you go?
Friday, February 17, 2012
They Learn What You Teach Them (Even when you don't think you're teaching them anything)
I had an "aha" moment the other day. I suddenly had a profound realisation of how deeply we influence our children when we're just... living.
It was watching my oldest daughter cuddle up to her great-grandmother on her bed in the nursing home. She was stroking "Oma's" arm and gazing lovingly at her. It was a beautiful moment - especially when I realised that sometimes we parents (by the grace of God) get something right when raising our children.
I was wondering why this oldest daughter of mine is so affectionate towards the elderly. One of her favourite parts of a recent trip up to Queensland with her grandparents was the time she spent with a senior friend of the family. As I was pondering, I suddenly remembered that for a short time while Miss Curie was a baby we made regular visits to a nursing home that was very close to our house at the time. I felt at the time that I needed to do something useful, and taking my baby to a nursing home seemed like a good idea - so I did. When she was just 13 months old we moved and the nursing home visits ended, but it seems that the effects were permanent.
At the time of those visits I had a vague idea that this was a good way to bring up my little girl to be loving and accepting of people no matter what they look like, but I had completely forgotten about it since then... Until I watched her cuddling her beloved Oma as she had done so many times before.
Maybe I'm placing too much significance on those nursing home visits... Come to think of it, we were also making regular visits to hospital around that time because Oma was seriously unwell.
Maybe Miss Curie would have been like that anyway. Maybe... And maybe her sensitivity to smells and tastes has nothing to do with my Dad opening all 32 of the spice jars in our spice rack one at a time and holding them under her nose while telling her the name of each spice - when she was three months old. Maybe. But I'm starting to be convinced that our kids learn what we teach them - especially when we don't think we're teaching them anything at all.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
If It Really Matters...
I have a confession to make. I'm pedantic. As a result, I have a pet hate of snappy sayings. One of my most disliked is: "there's no such thing as can't" or "nothing's impossible".
When someone says either of those to me, I really feel like saying something like: "so you're saying I'm just not trying hard enough to sprout purple feathers and fly to the moon?" Obviously there are many things that I can't do - that are impossible - such as give birth to a walrus (OK, so maybe science will get there one day, but I really doubt it) or turn everything I touch into mouldy cheese, or turn a raging cyclone into a mild summer breeze.
What is true, is what the Bible says: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I like that much, much better - mainly because it's God's word, not something that impatient adults make up to get kids to try harder. (Yes, I know that many people say these things with the best of intentions and I really do appreciate that, but let's stick to telling kids the things that are really true.)
I paraphrase that as: "if it's really important, it can be done. If it can't be done, it's not really important." I have to warn you, though, that only works if you're relying on God's strength instead of your own. God does let us fall flat on our faces and fail at the truly important things to teach us to rely on him (that all important phrase: "through Christ who strengthens me"). How do I know? Because it's happened to me. I've failed at being patient or kind to my husband or children because I was leaning on my own pitiful strength. I know that patience and kindness matter because the Bible says so.
The thing is, we can live our lives full of angst over all the important things that seem impossible... or over the impossible things that seem important... Or we can let go of our own ideas of important and impossible and let God decide what really needs to be done. Not just in the moments of despair and desperation, but every moment of every day.
The results are sure to be awesome.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Homeschooling Doesn't...
I know I've said it before in other ways, but homeschooling isn't perfect. It certainly isn't a way of setting apart the really good parents from the really bad. Bad parents can homeschool, too. It's a decision many make after careful and thoughtful consideration. It's a decision that some make on the spur of the moment without much regard for future ramifications (I don't have anyone specific in mind here!).
Homeschooling doesn't mean that parents love their children. Many loving parents homeschool their children. Many loving parents send their children to school. Some children who are homeschooled are, and will be, neglected and abused. The fact that the parents are educating their children at home does not make abuse any less vile and disgusting.
Homeschooling doesn't shield children from smut or evil or rebellion or... whatever. There are many ways that rubbish can enter our homes and our lives. If we as parents have a habit of letting that rubbish in, our children will soon learn to do the same.
Homeschooling doesn't create strong family relationships. It can facilitate strong family relationships, but ultimately people build relationships. Unless we directly put our efforts into building relationships, they won't... be built. (Simple, really, but I have to remind myself... often!)
Homeschooling doesn't make our children kinder, or more thoughtful, or less self-centred. It is an opportunity to teach and guide them more closely in these areas, but if the opportunity is neglected, the outcome is likely to be mediocre (although our children are certainly able to rise above our failures as parents).
I could go on and on, but what I'm trying to say is that homeschooling is a tool. A hammer in the hands of a psychopath is a weapon, but in the hands of tradesman, it is a tool. In the hands of an expert tradesman it can produce a masterpiece. In the hands of a toddler, it's likely to yield sore toes and a lot of noise.
As parents it's worth remembering that both homeschooling and schooling are tools. We are the tradesman and our children apprentices. If we neglect our work and leave it to the apprentices, we can expect poor results. We hope that ultimately our children will become expert tradesman, but that depends both on our commitment to mentoring them and their commitment to growth.
Homeschooling doesn't guarantee success. It doesn't guarantee happiness. But, when all is said and done, may we all have the satisfaction of knowing that, whatever tools we used, we used them well.
Homeschooling doesn't mean that parents love their children. Many loving parents homeschool their children. Many loving parents send their children to school. Some children who are homeschooled are, and will be, neglected and abused. The fact that the parents are educating their children at home does not make abuse any less vile and disgusting.
Homeschooling doesn't shield children from smut or evil or rebellion or... whatever. There are many ways that rubbish can enter our homes and our lives. If we as parents have a habit of letting that rubbish in, our children will soon learn to do the same.
Homeschooling doesn't create strong family relationships. It can facilitate strong family relationships, but ultimately people build relationships. Unless we directly put our efforts into building relationships, they won't... be built. (Simple, really, but I have to remind myself... often!)
Homeschooling doesn't make our children kinder, or more thoughtful, or less self-centred. It is an opportunity to teach and guide them more closely in these areas, but if the opportunity is neglected, the outcome is likely to be mediocre (although our children are certainly able to rise above our failures as parents).
I could go on and on, but what I'm trying to say is that homeschooling is a tool. A hammer in the hands of a psychopath is a weapon, but in the hands of tradesman, it is a tool. In the hands of an expert tradesman it can produce a masterpiece. In the hands of a toddler, it's likely to yield sore toes and a lot of noise.
As parents it's worth remembering that both homeschooling and schooling are tools. We are the tradesman and our children apprentices. If we neglect our work and leave it to the apprentices, we can expect poor results. We hope that ultimately our children will become expert tradesman, but that depends both on our commitment to mentoring them and their commitment to growth.
Homeschooling doesn't guarantee success. It doesn't guarantee happiness. But, when all is said and done, may we all have the satisfaction of knowing that, whatever tools we used, we used them well.
Monday, January 23, 2012
When They Ask Why
It's a perennial frustration of homeschoolers around the world - the seemingly endless questions about qualifications (ours), socialization (our kids' - though perhaps we should be asked about our socialization!), stress (how will we manage?), learning to cope with the "real" world... the list goes on (and on, and on...)
It can be hard to respond graciously when almost-strangers start interrogating you with the apparent intent of leaving no stone unturned.
I'm incredibly fortunate to have a very supportive family, including among those who have decided to send their own kids to school. For a lot of homeschoolers, family gatherings can be a battleground to prove their worth as both parents and teachers. I'm not going to pretend that I have any idea what that's really like, because I haven't experienced it first-hand, so I know I don't.
I do have some experience with being asked all kinds of questions by mere acquaintances, and I thought I'd share how I "cope". (The most interesting question I've ever had was: "do you find that easier, then?" Which was asked on two different occasions - several years apart - by the same person!)
Here are my tips for keeping your cool when questioned (feel free to add to the list!):
1) Believe the best you can about the questioner. Try not to assume that your integrity and sanity is being questioned. Many people are really just curious or genuinely interested, even if they do rub you up the wrong way.
2) Don't set out to prove yourself. While we may feel compelled to convince others that we are doing a good job, it can come across as a put-down to other parents if we start rabbiting on about all the fabulous things we and our kids are doing (subtly implying that they aren't doing such a great job). Conversations (and friendships) are likely to go down-hill from there.
3) Feel free to change the subject. If it's getting uncomfortable, encourage the other person to talk about positive things that their kids are doing.
4) Seek to understand. If someone seems hostile, maybe it's worth getting to the bottom of that hostility. More than likely it's not about you at all, but maybe there's something bothering them that they need to talk about (without feeling like your thinking, "well if you'd just take your kids out of school...").
5) Don't be afraid to admit you don't have all the answers. Who likes a know-it-all, anyway? Being arrogant (yep, seriously guilty of that one here) really doesn't help anything (okay, so that's completely obvious, I know - I guess I'm writing that for myself more than anyone else!).
6) Be honest! I tell people about my bad days too. Homeschooling isn't the answer to every problem the earth has ever seen, and others may get a little annoyed (to say the least) if we give that impression.
7) Be willing to walk away. Okay, so there will be a few people out there who just want to cut you down to make themselves feel better about their own choices (nothing to do with homeschooling and everything to do with insecurity) - when you meet one of them, it's best to find a way to walk away politely, but as soon as possible.
8) Above all, remember why you are here. Before and beyond homeschooling, I am a follower of Christ, and I want people to know that any good they see in my life is not a result of a magical homeschooling formula, but rather, that it is by the grace of God.
God bless your journey, wherever it takes you!
It can be hard to respond graciously when almost-strangers start interrogating you with the apparent intent of leaving no stone unturned.
I'm incredibly fortunate to have a very supportive family, including among those who have decided to send their own kids to school. For a lot of homeschoolers, family gatherings can be a battleground to prove their worth as both parents and teachers. I'm not going to pretend that I have any idea what that's really like, because I haven't experienced it first-hand, so I know I don't.
I do have some experience with being asked all kinds of questions by mere acquaintances, and I thought I'd share how I "cope". (The most interesting question I've ever had was: "do you find that easier, then?" Which was asked on two different occasions - several years apart - by the same person!)
Here are my tips for keeping your cool when questioned (feel free to add to the list!):
1) Believe the best you can about the questioner. Try not to assume that your integrity and sanity is being questioned. Many people are really just curious or genuinely interested, even if they do rub you up the wrong way.
2) Don't set out to prove yourself. While we may feel compelled to convince others that we are doing a good job, it can come across as a put-down to other parents if we start rabbiting on about all the fabulous things we and our kids are doing (subtly implying that they aren't doing such a great job). Conversations (and friendships) are likely to go down-hill from there.
3) Feel free to change the subject. If it's getting uncomfortable, encourage the other person to talk about positive things that their kids are doing.
4) Seek to understand. If someone seems hostile, maybe it's worth getting to the bottom of that hostility. More than likely it's not about you at all, but maybe there's something bothering them that they need to talk about (without feeling like your thinking, "well if you'd just take your kids out of school...").
5) Don't be afraid to admit you don't have all the answers. Who likes a know-it-all, anyway? Being arrogant (yep, seriously guilty of that one here) really doesn't help anything (okay, so that's completely obvious, I know - I guess I'm writing that for myself more than anyone else!).
6) Be honest! I tell people about my bad days too. Homeschooling isn't the answer to every problem the earth has ever seen, and others may get a little annoyed (to say the least) if we give that impression.
7) Be willing to walk away. Okay, so there will be a few people out there who just want to cut you down to make themselves feel better about their own choices (nothing to do with homeschooling and everything to do with insecurity) - when you meet one of them, it's best to find a way to walk away politely, but as soon as possible.
8) Above all, remember why you are here. Before and beyond homeschooling, I am a follower of Christ, and I want people to know that any good they see in my life is not a result of a magical homeschooling formula, but rather, that it is by the grace of God.
God bless your journey, wherever it takes you!
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Camping...
Just a few photos of our camping trip to a farm that belongs to family friends. A highlight was a visit to an animal farm that got the girls scheming about how they can have a pet goat.
The weather was beautiful, the river was cool, and I was blessed to have Raamonster's parents helping me out in every way imaginable. The only sad part was that the Raamonster could only come for two days because of his work commitments.
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