What the first week of homeschooling looks like

 Well, we did it. The first week was mostly great. We had a few bumps in the road, but that was expected by me.  I'm really glad we did "pretend" school all summer long. I think it set me up for success in the long run. So first, I'll talk about the challenges, and then the triumphs.

I think that the hardest part of homeschooling for me is not in the teaching, but my child coming to grips with having to listen to me ALL of the time. I mean, I should have kids that are obedient and listen to me always, but I don't. And since Dottie in particular has gone to school, it hasn't been such an issue, because she's gone most of the day. However, one of my goals with homeschooling is for Dottie and I to have a better working relationship. We often butt heads. And I don't like it. I don't like feeling like I nag my child most of the time that she's home. So with homeschooling, we're together all of the time, she needs to learn from me, so this bristling relationship is something we must overcome. And I know it's going to take time.

Wednesday, things came to a head. We were doing so well on Monday and Tuesday; she was happy, writing, reading, doing everything. Then I kept the kids up too late on Tuesday (they came with me to Young Women's), so Wednesday morning, I awoke to two out of three children crying. Then, learning was met with opposition every step of the way. Plus I didn't feel good, so my patience was thin. I could whine on and on. The day ended with my children being horrific at my husband's boss's change of command (an Air Force ceremony) that I had to haul them away from.

Today went much better. Dottie didn't have the TV on first thing (I've decided that the days we're doing school, the TV needs to be off completely...it is way too distracting for everyone), and she cooperated. I also worked on being less high-strung. Believe it or not, today we got the most things done.

But the triumphs? I love teaching my children. Really. I love knowing what's going on inside their heads all of the time, and I am learning things as well. It is definitely shaping me into the kind of mother I want to be: one who exhibits patience, is thrilled at her children's successes, truly takes joy in her children, but still remains well-organized and in control of things in her home.

Ruby...I'm still working on figuring out what to do with her. Serious learning takes place during her naptime. But the craft door has been decorated with stickers, the pantry has been ravaged of graham crackers, Elliot's block towers are occasionally destroyed. But she has been dancing to Wee Sing and Pretend? How long do you think that will last?

Sweet boy writing his letters.

You can't see this very well, but I'm pretty sure he has better handwriting than me. Mine is the top line, his is the bottom.

I love these geometric pattern blocks. Everyone enjoys them. Except for Ruby the Destroyer.

Zoom in, you can see what Thursday's schedule looked like. We actually stuck to it today. Dottie likes to know what we have planned every minute of the day, so this white board is perfect for her. Plus, it keeps me organized. I have a daily log saved on my computer as well of what we did that day, in case the authorities come a-knocking.

I realized that we have acquired many books since we started homeschooling. Luckily, I had this extra shelf in the garage. Ignore the middle shelf...that's just puzzles.

Those blocks are magic! This is what the kids came downstairs to do this morning instead of turning on the TV.

The curriculum from A Well-Trained Mind demands a lot of writing. Dottie is working on a letter to a friend here.

Elliot drew a picture of his favorite summer activity, I wrote the caption on lined paper, "I loved the garden at the Discovery Center," and he copied what I wrote underneath.

Making silver doubloons to trade with for an activity that goes with the history unit on Charles V and his conquests.

We're doing it

Homeschooling is on the horizon. I just need to wait to get all my books in the mail and ducks in a row. We're going to start slowly. If you want to know the approach I'm taking, read The Well-trained Mind. It's great. I'll chronicle on my blog all that I do.

Toying with the idea

This has been on my mind for years. 

We know I've never been crazy about sending my kids off to school.  It's a big pain to send them off, pick them up, have everything revolve around when/where they get out (Dottie and Elliot got out of school 45 min. apart last year. It will be the same this year. Don't ask me why).  I've always felt I could do more educationally for my children, not because the teachers were poor (although I've had my issues from time to time), but simply because there is so much wasted time in school.  Dottie especially has spent many a boring hour in school while the teacher has to discipline or she has finished her work before the others.  Don't get me wrong; I'm not criticizing education in America.  It's just the nature of the classroom. How can you possibly meet the needs of all children in a classroom of 20+ most of the time?

Then I met my friend Anya. She's homeschooled her children off and on for several years.  We've talked in length about the pros and cons.  You can individualize things to meet the needs and desires of your child.  You are more free to travel and explore. You can teach your kids some of those intrinsic things like manners and compassion that often get left out in a school education.  You can teach them the value of work. But most importantly, you can have fun. You can bond with your child. You can pay attention to your child.  

Whenever I talk to Anya on the phone, she always says at the end of the conversation, "Well, I better go. Gotta engage with these kids!" This phrase of hers really started to make me think, "Do I engage with my kids as much as they need it?" Now, of course, I don't believe in engaging with your kids 100% of the time, because you'd create a manipulative, dependent monster.  But I did start paying attention more to what I was doing with my time while my kids were home.  At the time, I was teaching piano most days of the week after school.  I did have "engagement" time with Elliot when we did Joy School with Anya's son.  But when Dottie was home, I began to notice that a lot of my time with her was spent hounding her to finish her homework, clean up her messes, not fight while I made dinner, etc. Our relationship was, "I'm the boss, you do what I say." Again, I'm not an advocate of coddling, or even trying to be best friends with your child.  There needs to be a level of authority while still maintaining a feeling of love.  And this, I believe, comes through engaging your child.

Anya uses literally all of her time with her kids teaching them something. She has come to realize that a big part of being a parent is being a teacher.  This is something she has reminded me of.  With a degree in education, I do love to teach, and I do love to learn.  And I love teaching my children.  It is truly where I find the most joy in my life.

Going through the tumor and coming out of it well made me resolve last June to be a better parent.  I felt I had been given a second chance.  I started asking people about homeschooling, gathering information on what was the best strategy.  Frankly, the homeschooling world overwhelmed me.  So Anya referred me to these books called What Every First Grader Should Know (and every grade level) and How to Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Lessons. I bought these books and other work books fully intending to give home-schooling a go last summer.

Then, I became ill.  I thought, "that's the end of that." Then, a strange thing started to happen this past spring. 4 of my close neighbors started home-schooling, all around the same time.  I called it home-schooling peer pressure.  I was quite skeptical of the whole thing, remembering a con to homeschooling Anya had talked to me about: homeschooling, in a way, is"hiding your light under a bushel." But then, my psychologist started talking to me about home-schooling! She had homeschooled her kids in the '70s, when it was even illegal in her state to do so.  My past few sessions with her weren't really counseling, but a conversation on the joys produced from homeschooling.

Knowing everything I've been through, and what still may come, she encouraged me, saying, "Your children's childhood is precious and needs to be cherished. You never get those years back." How can I not listen to that? I know my life is precious, but more so, my children's life is precious.  I don't want to waste any more time. It will not kill them to miss a few years of school; in fact, it will mean all the world to all of us.  And isn't our relationships with our families the most important thing?

So I've been toying with the idea.

We've opened up the books again this summer. I'm trying to see how it will go. Because there may be some rumbles down the road with Joe's career that would truly make homeschooling optimal.

Dottie writing. I wrote part of the story, she finished. She wrote for 3 hours straight.

My boy studying his reading book.

And this is about as exciting as we've gotten for the 4th. I'm glad...he needs a nap before those fireworks!

Dottie feeding a goat on a farm, just for fun.

 

And also just for fun, Ruby asleep on a canoe ride.

I didn't mean to get so passionate and long-winded. Again, just. toying. My kids will be going to school in the fall. Who knows what will happen after that? Thoughts?

Letter to someone who just found out they have a brain tumor

I wrote this letter this week to a friend of our family. Maybe I can talk about this now? Apparently. I want at least to help this girl before her world come crumbling down.

Hi Rebecca,

You don't know me. I'm Charlotte (Weed) Hansen. I'm a friend of the Browns, we grew up together in Pennsylvania. I remember Micah as a silly, goofy little boy with very blonde hair and very thick glasses.  I'm a year younger than Haven, who I loved for her craziness. I also was Noble's girlfriend for like a week.  Anyway, I digress. I love your family still, even if it's been years since I've seen them. They are still very dear to my heart.

When I heard about your tumor from my mom (who is still great friends with Jeannie), I knew I had to write to you.  I don't know if you feel at a place where you want to hear from me, but you can read this email whenever you feel like having someone to relate to. My aim is not to scare you, but to give you hope and comfort.

I have been through a similar thing this year, having discovered an astrocytoma tumor (the kind that has many tentacles) in my spinal cord.  Our situations are not exactly the same; I was not pregnant at the time of discovery, so I'm sure that adds a whole new level of anxiety for you.  I was still breast-feeding my third child when the tumor was found in my upper spinal cord in the vertebrae just below the brain stem. It was also not fast-growing, so I had a few weeks to wean my baby and prepare myself emotionally, which was wonderful. I spent the time cramming in as much time with my family and friends as possible. I hope you are doing the same. I also received priesthood blessings which gave me a lot of comfort, and assurance that I would heal.

From the surgery, I was told that I could end up paralyzed, or that there could be permanent nerve damage. When I woke up after surgery, I couldn't walk, I couldn't move my right hand. Strangely enough, I felt calm about it. I felt that it was temporary, and it was.  During the next several weeks of physical and occupational therapy, I regained enough sensation in my body to function, although there was still numbness. I felt blessed by the Lord and confident that I would continue to heal. The hardest part was the separation from my children, especially the estrangement from my baby. She was 13 months old and angry at me for leaving her for all of that time. It was really hard on me emotionally. 

The major trial to my faith came after radiation treatments.  Now I don't know if you'll have to go through radiation or chemo. I went through radiation because there was a small lesion connected to the tumor that was too risky to remove from surgery, as well as the doctors wanting to remove microscopic tentacles of the tumor. I felt fine for all of radiation.  Afterwards, however, I started to go more numb throughout my body. The doctors said it was probably swelling of the spinal cord and put me on a steroid.  I was on the steroid for 4 months.  Steroids are terrible drugs. I don't know if you'll have to go on them, but if you do, be prepared for craziness.  I couldn't sleep that entire time, my muscles atrophied, I was stricken with anxiety and depression. Basically all of my bodily functions became out of whack. I genuinely felt sure I was going to die. My body was also going more numb. I was so ill that my parents took my children for a month, and my husband took that month off of work to take care of me and to take me to different specialists.  

Nearly a year later, after those horrific 4 months, I am still recovering.  There is still something in my spinal cord, which my latest doctor believes is necrosis, which is dead cells from radiation. It appears to be slowly dissipating. I am still numb in many places, but I have been blessed to function to take care of my children again. During that time of high anxiety, I really turned to the Lord. Really, all that gave me comfort was reading the scriptures, praying, and getting priesthood blessings (every night).  I look back and see the extremity of my behavior, but I know that the hand of the Lord helped me through this difficult time, and that He is still helping me.  

This trial is a lesson in patience and faith. My nerves may not heal completely, but I have to count my blessings, daily.  I am so grateful to be alive and that I can take care of my kids. The Lord helps me to have patience with the physical problems I face from the surgery.  I believe that the Lord helped me discover the tumor before it was debilitating so that I can fulfill my purposes of raising my children and serving others.  I really believe this; through this trial, I know that these are the things I need to do with my life. I feel like I'm living my life with more meaning because I know my purposes; I have a testimony of them. I will do all I can, daily, to be the best I can.

I don't know if you've read this story before, but I read it a few months ago while preparing a lesson for YW. It's from a talk by Elder Ballard, about Lucy Mack Smith:

Lucy prepared herself early in her marriage to raise a prophet. On one occasion she became seriously ill, and the doctors said she would die. Lucy records that she “made a solemn covenant with God that if He would let me live I would endeavor to serve him according to the best of my abilities.” After a voice assured her that she would live, she told her mother, “the Lord will let me live, if I am faithful to the promise which I made to him, to be a comfort to my mother, my husband, and my children.” (Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith, by His Mother, Lucy Mack Smith, ed. Preston Nibley, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1979, pp. 34.)

This life is so short and precious.  We could die at any time from any number of things. Having a tumor doesn't change that.  However, the Lord will do what is best for us and for our families.  The Savior's mission is to bless us.  I don't know what the outcome will be for you, Rebecca.  Heck, I don't know what the outcome will be for me.  All we can do is live the best we can, today, everyday.  And trust that the Lord will help us and our families with whatever may come. Don't be afraid of asking others for help, you will need it. People lived with me for 3 months after the surgery.  Also, don't be afraid of getting psychological help.  I saw a psychologist who specialized in cancer patients (who happened to be Mormon...huge blessing), and she really helped me with letting go of my anxieties.  

I want you to know that I'm praying for you, and I am so sorry this is happening. Take care of yourself first, and let others temporarily take care of your babies.  You will have a chance to take care of them again, I promise.  

A Very Harry Potter Party

Oh man. My life was so very busy, up until recently. We had a family reunion at my house in SA, followed immediately by a  birthday party, followed a few days later by a baby shower. And dinner with a colonel that same day. And a few days later, I flew to PA with Rubaloo to stay with my mom for 2 1/2 months. Joe is going to the same school (again) in MD for the summer.  He drove with Dottie and Elliot, they got here late last night. It's going to take me some time to get caught up with pictures, so I'm working backwards.  Here's Dottie's birthday.  It was a combined effort with my neighbors and family. Don't think I was insane enough to do it all myself. 

We sorted the kids into Houses with a baby monitor talking to them inside the Sorting Hat. They were then given these badges. They stayed in teams to go to different classes, where they played games.

 My friend Trish is very crazy. She made a great dementor. The kids dressed her up so she wouldn't be scary any more in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

 Dottie made it into Gryffindor!

 The cake! I bought it. Terrible, I know. But my family left a few hours before the party, so a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

 Team Gryffindor!

 I made the Sorting Hat out of an old witch hat, brown paper bags, and hot glue. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

 This little girl, Aurora, is in love with Elliot. The feeling is mutual.

 Ruby is insane.

 Henry is about as passionate as Dottie is for Harry. So he also dressed up.

 The other girls that helped plan the party with Dottie.

 And some of the deco.

My mom made this baptism quilt for Dottie. It's pretty amazing.

 Broomstick treats, filled with jelly bellies.

Whew! Quite a party, right? But Dottie really loves parties, and 8 is a special year.  So it was definitely worth it. The kids had a great time, even if there were a few tears from Team Slytherin.

I Am the Velveteen Rabbit (or maybe Edward Scissorhands?)

Well, I'm back. I have thought about posting again for a long time, especially when Morgan chastised me a month ago. Glad to know I have left a void in one heart.

It really is too much for me to talk about my life for the past several months. If you want, you can ask my mom. Suffice it to say I thought I was dying, and now I do not.  At least I hope I'm not dying.  But that is completely up to the Lord, as I've come to learn.

Right now, I'm just trying to live my life. Get back on track. Enjoy my kids and husband. We recently made a trip to Colorado where we visited Joe's parents, our friends the McCombs and Andersons, and Emily. While we were visiting Grandma and Grandpa Hansen, we went to a pizzeria.  The art on the wall was from the local high school students.  I remember one painting in particular, because it was Edward Scissorhands, and I loved Edward Scissorhands growing up.  Why did I love Edward Scissorhands so much as a young lass? Probably because I wanted to be Winona Ryder, and she was at the peak of her beauty in that movie.  But now, I feel like Edward Scissorhands.  My hands literally do not work very well, and it's frustrating that no one understands what I am dealing with here.  And I know Edward felt the same way.

But I am getting better at not letting my circumstances get me down.  Like Edward, I am adapting.  He became great at cutting people's hair and shaping bushes for the neighbors.  And I am trying to do the things that make me happiest: serving others and my family. Now I don't say this to sound like I'm a perfect do-gooder, because there is plenty of do-badding in my life.  I have simply found that I am truly the happiest and forget my own problems when I am actively involved in bettering others, however small my efforts may be.

In my family, I have recommitted myself to the education of my children.  Dottie is regularly practicing the piano again, after a year break.  Elliot is learning to read again, after a year break.  Along with reading with Elliot, I am also reading to him childhood classics.  The other day we read The Velveteen Rabbit. 

I haven't read The Velveteen Rabbit since I was a little girl, but as I read the book to Elliot, I was making all of these connections to my own life, crying tears into my little boy's hair.  I don't know how to express this well, so here's an excerpt.  Let's see if you get it:



"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.  

"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."
The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him.

This is when the tears started, and they continued for the rest of the story.  You see? This story is really about becoming a mother.  Not just birthing a child and letting society do the rest, but really being involved with your children. So many things happen to you as a mother; you sacrifice your time, comfort, body, sleep, and sometimes, your sanity. And sometimes, you get a tumor in your spinal cord just to try you further. It is uncomfortable, as the Rabbit lamented. But it is worth it. Once you become a mother, there is no going back.  You are a happier, more fulfilled person, in spite of the sacrifice. "Once you are real, you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." I was so touched by this story because I feel like right now, I would do anything to continue raising my children, to be a part of the magic in their lives.  I don't care if my hair is falling out and my fingers don't work properly. This is what I am alive for: to be a mother to my children.  I know the Lord will help me and bless me for my efforts.  

At the end of the story, when the Fairy comes and turns the boy into a REAL rabbit, she says, "You were Real to the Boy, because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to everyone." I know that that is what the Lord will say to all valiant mothers.  The world will finally recognize us for who we really are, and know that we are choice daughters of our Heavenly Father because of the sacrifice of love we have made in this life.

Woo. Anyway. I know why you're really here (mom).  The pictures. Most of these are from our trip to Colorado:

 

The end of an era

On Saturday, our best friends, the McCombs, moved to Colorado Springs . This was our first super duper good friends that have moved.  I cried a lot. I don't know how you deal in the military, making great friends, and then you or them move away. In the past, I've always been the one moving, having the new place to look forward to, but it is something completely different to be the one left behind. 

It felt like saying goodbye to my college roommates all over again. Anya and I were both crying, saying how much we loved and appreciated each other. After they left, Joe took me  and the kids for a walk, in our pajamas.  I was pretty inconsolable.  I remember saying unreasonable things like, "I hate San Antonio. I just don't want to live here anymore." Joe reminded me I still have friends here(and although I will never love San Antonio, hate is a strong word).

This was our farewell feast, a 37 inch pizza from Big Lou's.  It's featured on Man vs. Food.  Our friend Brooke, Joe McCombs'  dental assistant, helped us out. She's just as sad as me. We've been consoling each other.

Have I mentioned that the McCombs lived with us this last week? They sold their house and have been living in a hotel on base for the past month. Then, they got bed bugs. Then, they tried another hotel. Anya called me, desperate one night, asking if she could come and stay. Of course! I wish they would have stayed with us the whole time.

Somehow, they didn't get sick of each other! They still came over every day when they were in the hotel. Anya watched the kids while I went to radiation. By the way, I only have 5 sessions left!

The girls have this song, "Best Friends Forever, BFFF," that they made up. An extra F is added for the extra friend. These girls now have 3 best friend necklaces that they have acquired this past year. Now that is true friendship: having 3 necklaces. Anya gave me a best friend bracelet to celebrate our friendship. Now all I need is her picture in the locket.

We love you McCombs! We can't wait to see you in August!