join us now for the ongoing narrative of . . . of what?

I am trying and trying to get back into the blogging habit. Do I just have nothing left to say? Maybe the prompts from The Homeschool Mother's Journal will help.

In my life this week…

This is definitely the week for doing winter holiday things: decorating the tree, singing, making way too many cookies. The neighbors across the street put their lights up while I was elsewhere, and turned them on several hours after dark, so I came out of the bathroom one night and the whole apartment was glowing in rainbow colors. It was a taste of the magic of childhood holidays. I remember laying on the floor under the tree, staring up into the lights, inhaling the forest smells, until it all faded and my mother was whispering and my stepfather was carrying me to bed.

In our homeschool this week…

We began the Civil War after a very long break to deal with moving, a blessedly gentle custody battle, and the taking back of our democracy from corporate interests. I had eagerly been memorizing freedom spirituals for several weeks, but I wasn't sure how well we'd be able to start with just those. The library was taking longer than I expected to come through with the titles I had on hold. The Scientist overheard me grumbling at the bookcase our first morning. He asked what was wrong. "I can only find one of the three books I know we have about the Civil War." He said, "Why do we have only three books on the Civil War?" My work here is done.

Helpful homeschooling tips or advice to share…

Uh-huh. Um. Keep doing it? What has sustained us through the past two months is remembering that the program that gets done every day is better than the one with all the best books and oldest methods. No, I don't really have any tips or advice. The boys have progressed even through this chaos, and that's because we did something every day, even if it was only the barest minimum necessary to say we did something. Tutoring is efficient, you know. It doesn't take a lot of effort to keep up with a class of average American schoolkids.

I am inspired by…

We are making sugar cookies pretty much only because of iambaker. The Storyteller caught a glimpse of the blog over my shoulder and conspired with me to make several experimental frostings.

Places we’re going and people we’re seeing…

Oh. I wish nowhere was my answer to this question! Some part of me rebelliously responded NOWHERE but that is not the truth.

We are making snowglobes at the library. We are going to the book club the librarians in our old neighborhood started pretty much just for our boys. The Storyteller has an appointment with the doctor because, unless I'm very wrong, he's become severely anemic.

A friend is coming over to make tamales with me. I've never done it before. Well, I don't remember doing it, but I know several members of my mother's Puerto Rican family did make them at the holidays every year and it seems likely that I at least watched. I love tamales. I'm excited to add this tradition to my list, if I can figure out the totally non-modern-izable process.

My favorite thing this week was…

Poor little Storyteller mastered long division in his usual style: crying, throwing the pencil on the ground, refusing my help. But he mastered it!

It was also heartening that the children remembered the Aesop I read when they were a couple of years younger. We have a new cat. His name is Belling.

What’s working/not working for us…

I feel like our entire homeschool is hanging on a thread. Remember what I wrote above about just doing something everyday to say that we did something? That's not how I want to homeschool. We have moved in now; our lives are calm and stable. It's time to work out something bigger and better and get to using it.

The children have grown some, too, since we started doing that. The Scientist and the Storyteller have grown into writers, willing and able writers. I can say stuff like, "write me a report on ____" and expect to get one. That was unfathomable this summer when I was planning this year's program. (It was NaNoWriMo that fixed it. Maybe I should put that above under tips and advice.) The Hero is reading. He can sound anything out. He's outgrown the phonics materials I expected to last the whole year.

Language arts is a pretty big subject to overhaul. I'm feeling tired. I want to take a breath and get my head together about it. I may be somewhat frightened. I've never had writers before. I don't know where to go from here.

Questions/thoughts I have…

Oh. Um, I've never had writers before. I don't where to go from here.

Things I’m working on…

Nothing. Phew. Except overhauling language arts and putting all the non-basics back into our days.

I’m reading…

a lot. Part of finding sanctuary from the recent chaos has been a strict regimen of fiction. Aside from the novels I have been speeding through, all stuff on my GoodReads to-read list for years, I've been reading about race and identity development in African-American children. I've lived in mixed race neighborhoods all of my adult life (at least at first as a conscious choice to evade homogeneous culture). I've been reading anti-racism materials for six years. I'd worked on it, really worked on it. I always told myself the right things to tell myself, but it was only in these past few weeks, after looking closely at the psychology behind the cultural choices black adolescents make that I really was able to look at African-American teenage boys with the same kind of feelings that I look at white kids, no forcing it. It feels like taking a breath of fresh air, letting go of a lot of tension I hadn't realized was there. But of course there's a shame to it also, that it took me so long.

I’m cooking…

Another part of coming down from the chaos has been a deliberate decision to let the dinners be as simple as possible. Aside from holiday foods, which I am not depending on to be the evening meal, it's our standard rotation: turmeric-y tofu, spinach pancakes with mashed potatoes, pizza, lentil stew, breakfast for dinner, salad, mac and swiss cheese.

I’m grateful for…

These boys. So often lately I see something in them that I strived to be sure to put there. It's affirming in a time of upheaval.

Songs. Long-sung songs. People who will sing them with me. Warm chests to lean my head against while harmonies form around me. Soft curls against my neck and little drooping eyes to stroke and watch while I make the old songs live for another generation.

Tea. Sweetened and spiced. Cloudy milk swirls in it.

A photo, video, link, or quote to share…

Here are the two little boys assaulting the big one in front of the fireplace. It was all in good fun.



I’m praying (from Ceiswr Serith)…

In the greatest darkness
Out of Winter's cold
From our deepest fears
When we most despair
When all seems lost
When the earth lies waste
When animals hide
From fallen leaves
When the river is frozen
When the ground is hard
From the midst of the wasteland
When hope is gone

The Sun is born.