When people hear that we home school, there are a few things they usually ask. Why?? Is that legal?? What about socialization?? I am often tempted to give a sarcastic response. "No, actually it's not legal, so please don't tell anyone!" Usually, because I am supposed to be setting a good example for my children, I answer honestly and openly. And maybe with more than the asker bargained for in some cases.
You see, my least favorite question is socialization. According to dictionary.com, socialization is "a continuing process whereby an individual acquires a personal identity and learns the norms, values, behavior, and social skills appropriate to his or her social position". Nothing in the definition states that this happens by being in a group of their peers for over a decade. Actually, I think that the process of obtaining socialization took me longer because of peer pressure. I wanted to be cool. I wanted to fit in. Almost every stupid decision I ever made was a direct result of peer pressure. And it never worked. I was not cool. I did not fit in. And I felt like a sell out every time I saw an injustice and said nothing. Choose to be silent when seeing bullying. Knew my friends were taking up destructive habits, but said nothing. Did not say what I thought or believed because I did not want to be ridiculed because of my faith.
I can give many examples of home schoolers that I know that do not feel the crush of peer pressure. Who stay true to themselves, their beliefs, and their faith regardless of circumstances. Mainly, I see my oldest daughter. Who she is. Who she is becoming.
Angel does not feel the need to impress anyone. She does what she enjoys, regardless of who finds that popular. She wears what she likes. She watches, or does not watch, things based on her preferences and beliefs. She forms her own opinions. Strongly. Her taste in music is not the same as her friends. Or her taste in books, games, activities, or how she feels about school. We are more alike than she will want to admit. But by middle school I had already felt the pull of peer pressure shaping who I was, even though I was strong. She does not. I have seen her decline opportunities with friends because she wants to spend time with extended family. Or at church. I have seen her not participate in activities because she felt that something about those activities was wrong. She sings, dances, and acts because it is fun for her. She performs dances to praise music for church that she choreographs herself because she enjoys it. She participates in youth group, joins her father onstage, and is actively involved in community service. Not because it is what her friends do, but because she finds meaning and enjoyment in those activities.
And yet, despite not caring what others think of her, we can not go anywhere without someone calling out "Hey Angel!" or "Look, Angel's here!" The post office, the bank, the playground, the park, swimming, restaurants, grocery stores, the library, even in our back yard. She knows people everywhere we go. Just tonight we were running at the local school track, just the two of us. We get out of the van , and hear "Angel!!" There were only a handful of people there, and most of them knew her. Children, parents, teachers, coaches.
I am convinced that this happens not despite her being true to herself, but because of it. You see, she learned something already that took me until the beginning of twelfth grade to discover. It does not matter in the long run who likes what you do if you do not. It does not matter what others think of your faith if God is not pleased. It does not matter what others think of you if you are not happy with who you are. She is very comfortable with who she is, and that appeals to others. Spending time with a variety of ages makes her comfortable talking to her peers, their parents, and any siblings. She is kind, likes listening to people, and enjoys serving God and others. I know that she is this confident in who she is because she has been given the freedom of home school. Freedom to help choose what she learns, and how. Freedom to excel, or take some extra time. Freedom to interact with her great grandparents, uncles, younger siblings, friends, parents, coaches, teachers and even those people who ask if we are sure our children will have enough socialization.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
How very odd...
Pregnancy does odd things to a woman. To her body, to her mental state, to her emotional state, and even to her family. There are things other people notice by a glance, like my freaky hair, my double wide booty, or a belly that looks 6 months but is only 15 weeks. Then there are the things that my family notices, like the fact that I no longer drink coffee everyday, that peanut butter make me sick, and that I am oversensitive about things like babies and Batman. Then there are the things I notice, like I have to go to the bathroom every half hour all night long, that I sweat doing even the most mundane things, or that I eat like a hobbit. My feet grow wider, my nose gets bigger, my hair is curly one day and straight the next.
Pregnancy has made my family extra irritating. For example, they do crazy things like eat the last of the chocolate, drink the last of the water, or breathe at me. Or, while I am sleeping they crawl into my dreams and do irritating stuff so that I wake up grumpy. Or they do horrible things like ask me where I would like to eat for supper, which makes me cry. Or they are really nice to me when I am mad for no rational reason.
Then there are the times that I crave some specific food, only to make it and gag over the way it looks. Or those times when I want two foods that will never go good together, like chocolate ice cream and lemonade. The times I will die if I do not have a Sheetz hot dog right now, even if I was sound asleep five seconds ago.
There are those times when I cry at the baby on the baby wipe box. Or because Andy told me that I am beautiful when pregnant. And he did not even mention that I am also crazy. Or I cry because my son told me that Batman is not real. Or when I cry because it is Tuesday. Or reading a poem about a bird to my son, or a birthday cake book to my other son. Or when I am talking to my daughter about Narnia, or dinosaurs. I cry when I do not even know that I am crying. At first my children found it alarming. Now they laugh behind their hands. In a different room. Which also makes me cry.
But the worst has to be that somewhere, deep down, there is a remnant of the rational me that sees all of this crazy. And she protests. And she tries to reason with my hormone saturated brain. She struggles to make sense of my tears, my fears, my craving, and my brand of crazy. She knows that Batman is (probably) not real. She knows that of course the baby on the wipes box is cute. And that it is actually me who is irritating, not my family. She tries to explain that it is ok if they eat the chocolate, because it makes me sick anyway. And that I do cry too much, and when it was not me, say it was my mother, I found it funny too. But she is too quiet to hear over my craziness, and I am the only one who sees her daily.
She also knows that soon this will all be over. The world will not end. People do not die from being pregnant, even if they also homeschool. There will be a wonderful tiny baby, and we will laugh and cry and be a family forever. And, very importantly, she knows that soon I will be able to stomach chocolate. And a daily cup of coffee. But I will be reluctant to give up my nap.
Pregnancy has made my family extra irritating. For example, they do crazy things like eat the last of the chocolate, drink the last of the water, or breathe at me. Or, while I am sleeping they crawl into my dreams and do irritating stuff so that I wake up grumpy. Or they do horrible things like ask me where I would like to eat for supper, which makes me cry. Or they are really nice to me when I am mad for no rational reason.
Then there are the times that I crave some specific food, only to make it and gag over the way it looks. Or those times when I want two foods that will never go good together, like chocolate ice cream and lemonade. The times I will die if I do not have a Sheetz hot dog right now, even if I was sound asleep five seconds ago.
There are those times when I cry at the baby on the baby wipe box. Or because Andy told me that I am beautiful when pregnant. And he did not even mention that I am also crazy. Or I cry because my son told me that Batman is not real. Or when I cry because it is Tuesday. Or reading a poem about a bird to my son, or a birthday cake book to my other son. Or when I am talking to my daughter about Narnia, or dinosaurs. I cry when I do not even know that I am crying. At first my children found it alarming. Now they laugh behind their hands. In a different room. Which also makes me cry.
But the worst has to be that somewhere, deep down, there is a remnant of the rational me that sees all of this crazy. And she protests. And she tries to reason with my hormone saturated brain. She struggles to make sense of my tears, my fears, my craving, and my brand of crazy. She knows that Batman is (probably) not real. She knows that of course the baby on the wipes box is cute. And that it is actually me who is irritating, not my family. She tries to explain that it is ok if they eat the chocolate, because it makes me sick anyway. And that I do cry too much, and when it was not me, say it was my mother, I found it funny too. But she is too quiet to hear over my craziness, and I am the only one who sees her daily.
She also knows that soon this will all be over. The world will not end. People do not die from being pregnant, even if they also homeschool. There will be a wonderful tiny baby, and we will laugh and cry and be a family forever. And, very importantly, she knows that soon I will be able to stomach chocolate. And a daily cup of coffee. But I will be reluctant to give up my nap.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Top ten reasons why I love to home school
In any random order, not the order of importance!
10. Those days when we stay in our jammies all day.
9. Sleeping in on yucky days.
8. Cuddling all the kids in my room in the morning.
7. Starting the day with devotions and prayer.
6. Watching my children as they play together during breaks.
5. Catching that "ah ha"moment when understanding dawns for the first time. Every time.
4. Seeing my children work together at school, around the house, and as they help me.
3. Co-op classes that allow all the kids to get together to learn and play, and the moms get a bit of a break.
2. Reading aloud a great book, sipping hot chocolate.
1. Growing closer to each other and closer to God.
10. Those days when we stay in our jammies all day.
9. Sleeping in on yucky days.
8. Cuddling all the kids in my room in the morning.
7. Starting the day with devotions and prayer.
6. Watching my children as they play together during breaks.
5. Catching that "ah ha"moment when understanding dawns for the first time. Every time.
4. Seeing my children work together at school, around the house, and as they help me.
3. Co-op classes that allow all the kids to get together to learn and play, and the moms get a bit of a break.
2. Reading aloud a great book, sipping hot chocolate.
1. Growing closer to each other and closer to God.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Things I overheard from the children today...
Isaac and his cousins playing Wii:
"Cousins are like friends"
"Yeah, but they have to like you."
Faith to her cousin, still playing Wii:
"Hold still and let me beat you up!"
M to Angel:
"I want to come over everyday. Can I shop in your room everyday?"
Faith to her cousins:
"Oh yeah, just ask my mom about him when they were growing up. Does she have some stories for you!"
Faith to her cousin:
"We should do this more. What are your plans next weekend?"
Best line ever:
"Let's all spent the night together at Grandma's!" They meant all 11 of them! I am in! Dan, Amber? Scott, Theresa? What do you think??
"Cousins are like friends"
"Yeah, but they have to like you."
Faith to her cousin, still playing Wii:
"Hold still and let me beat you up!"
M to Angel:
"I want to come over everyday. Can I shop in your room everyday?"
Faith to her cousins:
"Oh yeah, just ask my mom about him when they were growing up. Does she have some stories for you!"
Faith to her cousin:
"We should do this more. What are your plans next weekend?"
Best line ever:
"Let's all spent the night together at Grandma's!" They meant all 11 of them! I am in! Dan, Amber? Scott, Theresa? What do you think??
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Yield. And then maybe smile a bit.
I live in a small town. We have small town roads and sidewalks in most places. In other places we have one lane bridges and no sidewalks. Almost everything is in walking distance. I enjoy this very much. But I have come to find something unsettling on our ventures out, especially when my kids are riding their bikes.
We have a grocery store within about a block from our home. On the way there is a one lane bridge. And construction that covers the sidewalk. I have some young bike riders, but they know the rules and are cautious. I am not worried about them, I am worried for them. Because of the adults around.
My nine year old has Asperger's Syndrome, which is on the Autism Spectrum. We were told she probably would not have the balance to ride her bike without training wheels. We never told her that. We coached, worked, practiced, and prayed. It may have taken her two years longer, and she is a bit unsteady, but she rides. Without training wheels. And she can go far.
My seven year old was quick to get his training wheels off his bike. He started taking them off himself. He is fast and steady. He was riding without training wheels before his big sister. He rides slowly with his sister. To keep her safe. He encourages her up the hills, and even down the other side.
And I am proud of them both. Her perseverance. His protection. Her smiling face. His kind heart.
You see, that one lane bridge is scary for her. She has to pedal up a small hill. She is close to cars. She may seem like she does not see them, but that is because she doesn't want to make eye contact with the drivers. She knows you are there. And sometimes she panics if cars are too close, too loud, or too fast, even if they are on the road and she is on the sidewalk. But on that bridge she has no choice. She has to step out of her comfort zone, away from her safe place. Again. She does this in many ways everyday, but this is the only time I fear for her.
On that bridge, she has to be on the road. And adults are impatient. And rude. They beep at her if she is taking too long. Or creep up onto the bridge invading her space. Sometimes it alarms her enough that she jumps off her bike and runs. I am usually right there, but she will still get afraid. And so Isaac rides between her and the road. To protect her.
If I could say one thing to the drivers we see often, especially today, it would be shame on you. Shame on you for your impatience. For your frustration. You see, even if she was not a little different in this area, she is still a child. She will go too slow. Or too fast. She may swerve a little. She may not see you coming up behind her. But as a child, that is to be expected. As adult, on the other hand, should know better. Should yield to the child that seems "in the way", your child or not. Your relative or not. Your neighbor or not. Because by your actions you teach each child you meet. You are teaching impatience. Frustration. Lack of compassion. I am a firm believer that the only thing wrong with "kids these days" is the adults that they have to look to as an example.
So if you are in my town on a nice day and you see a beautiful little girl on a pink bike with a rubber snake in the basket, please be patient. Give her an extra moment. Maybe a smile. She may not respond in kind, but she will notice. And so will her sister and brothers. And her mother. And they will be very grateful.
We have a grocery store within about a block from our home. On the way there is a one lane bridge. And construction that covers the sidewalk. I have some young bike riders, but they know the rules and are cautious. I am not worried about them, I am worried for them. Because of the adults around.
My nine year old has Asperger's Syndrome, which is on the Autism Spectrum. We were told she probably would not have the balance to ride her bike without training wheels. We never told her that. We coached, worked, practiced, and prayed. It may have taken her two years longer, and she is a bit unsteady, but she rides. Without training wheels. And she can go far.
My seven year old was quick to get his training wheels off his bike. He started taking them off himself. He is fast and steady. He was riding without training wheels before his big sister. He rides slowly with his sister. To keep her safe. He encourages her up the hills, and even down the other side.
And I am proud of them both. Her perseverance. His protection. Her smiling face. His kind heart.
You see, that one lane bridge is scary for her. She has to pedal up a small hill. She is close to cars. She may seem like she does not see them, but that is because she doesn't want to make eye contact with the drivers. She knows you are there. And sometimes she panics if cars are too close, too loud, or too fast, even if they are on the road and she is on the sidewalk. But on that bridge she has no choice. She has to step out of her comfort zone, away from her safe place. Again. She does this in many ways everyday, but this is the only time I fear for her.
On that bridge, she has to be on the road. And adults are impatient. And rude. They beep at her if she is taking too long. Or creep up onto the bridge invading her space. Sometimes it alarms her enough that she jumps off her bike and runs. I am usually right there, but she will still get afraid. And so Isaac rides between her and the road. To protect her.
If I could say one thing to the drivers we see often, especially today, it would be shame on you. Shame on you for your impatience. For your frustration. You see, even if she was not a little different in this area, she is still a child. She will go too slow. Or too fast. She may swerve a little. She may not see you coming up behind her. But as a child, that is to be expected. As adult, on the other hand, should know better. Should yield to the child that seems "in the way", your child or not. Your relative or not. Your neighbor or not. Because by your actions you teach each child you meet. You are teaching impatience. Frustration. Lack of compassion. I am a firm believer that the only thing wrong with "kids these days" is the adults that they have to look to as an example.
So if you are in my town on a nice day and you see a beautiful little girl on a pink bike with a rubber snake in the basket, please be patient. Give her an extra moment. Maybe a smile. She may not respond in kind, but she will notice. And so will her sister and brothers. And her mother. And they will be very grateful.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Top Ten Reasons My Husband is the Best!
I know that there are many people who seem to live their private lives a little loud on the Internet. And often times I wonder if some gush over each other online because they do not do it in person. I have mostly shied away from declarations of my undying love for my husband because, well, because I do not want to be all gross and mushy. However, I have also noticed many other little things, jokes, but not really jokes, about husbands. Or men in general. And even when they may give me a chuckle at times, I can not help but wonder if we spend too much time joking and not enough building up the men in our lives. So many people do not have an involved husband, a present father, a male role model. And when we see those jokes about how guys are,well, it makes me think that maybe that is why. Because we joke and tease, but underneath that is a festering disagreement over who is better, men or women. And that is not encouraging to anyone, respectful to anyone, most of all those men who give up so much to care for their families. So, I want to pay a little tribute to the man in our house, the love of my life, my best friend, the father of my children. I want him, and you, and guys everywhere to know they are appreciated, loved, and respected. I may even gush a little, but it does come from my heart.
And so, here are the top ten reasons that my husband is the best. Maybe even the best ever. Each of these is a reason that I love my husband more today than the day we got married.
10. He cares about what is important to us. Example, the night that our power went out for seven hours overnight, in January, in Pennsylvania, he did everything he could to keep us all warm. He even saw Faith's concern about her gecko, and knowing that it would freeze in the house without heat, he put it in a small container and tucked it in his sleeping bag. All night long.
9. He provides for us. He works hard to provide all that we need. He is willing to do what he needs to so that I can stay home and care for and educate our children. And at times it is hard. At times he works more than he should have to, days on end. And at more than one job at a time. But we always have what we need. And a lot of what we want. Even when he chooses to go without.
8. He helps us because he wants to. He will work all day, and yet stand at the sink washing dishes with me at night. Or fixing supper. To be with me. Or coaching soccer, teaching Sunday School, getting to know the kid's friends. Taking hikes, bike rides, and doing "man crafts". Helping to dress Barbies, sitting down for tea, or knowing the lyrics to Selena Gomez. He is involved in everything he can be with each of us.
7. Every Saturday morning he wakes me up with coffee. Sometimes it is earlier than I would like, but it is to spend time with me.
6. I never have to carry a laundry basket. Or a sleeping child. And I have never had to carry a vacuum to a different floor of our house. He carries it, and then runs it for me. We live in a house with three flights of steps. I have never vacuumed those either. He does it before I can.
5. No matter how I look, how I feel, or how I am acting, I know that when he looks into my eyes and says that I am beautiful that he means it. From the bottom of his heart. And then I feel beautiful because he believes it and the look in his eyes when he says it tells me why.
4. I have been watching his magic and juggling show for almost 15 years. And he still dazzles me every time he is performing. Even when I have seen it for about a thousand times. Or know the secret. It is still magic.
3. He includes our children. He patiently explains things he is fixing. From painting the dining room to fixing the washing machine they are right there beside him. And not just the boys. He shows our girls how to fix stuff as well. He teaches them tricks to be in shows. He gives them little jobs so that Firefly is our family ministry, not just his show. And the pride in their eyes shows that they love to be included.
2. He can fix anything. If he does not know how to fix something, he learns how. From vacuums, to washing machines. From hot water heaters to cars. He keeps it going. And he is not afraid to call his dad for some guidance.
1. He lives his faith. He is exactly the same man at home as in public. He is the real deal. Praying with and for us, explaining Scriptures, telling stories to illustrate the right way to live, encouraging the children to not follow him, but to follow his Father. But I am confident that if they follow him, they will be following Jesus.
And so, here are the top ten reasons that my husband is the best. Maybe even the best ever. Each of these is a reason that I love my husband more today than the day we got married.
10. He cares about what is important to us. Example, the night that our power went out for seven hours overnight, in January, in Pennsylvania, he did everything he could to keep us all warm. He even saw Faith's concern about her gecko, and knowing that it would freeze in the house without heat, he put it in a small container and tucked it in his sleeping bag. All night long.
9. He provides for us. He works hard to provide all that we need. He is willing to do what he needs to so that I can stay home and care for and educate our children. And at times it is hard. At times he works more than he should have to, days on end. And at more than one job at a time. But we always have what we need. And a lot of what we want. Even when he chooses to go without.
8. He helps us because he wants to. He will work all day, and yet stand at the sink washing dishes with me at night. Or fixing supper. To be with me. Or coaching soccer, teaching Sunday School, getting to know the kid's friends. Taking hikes, bike rides, and doing "man crafts". Helping to dress Barbies, sitting down for tea, or knowing the lyrics to Selena Gomez. He is involved in everything he can be with each of us.
7. Every Saturday morning he wakes me up with coffee. Sometimes it is earlier than I would like, but it is to spend time with me.
6. I never have to carry a laundry basket. Or a sleeping child. And I have never had to carry a vacuum to a different floor of our house. He carries it, and then runs it for me. We live in a house with three flights of steps. I have never vacuumed those either. He does it before I can.
5. No matter how I look, how I feel, or how I am acting, I know that when he looks into my eyes and says that I am beautiful that he means it. From the bottom of his heart. And then I feel beautiful because he believes it and the look in his eyes when he says it tells me why.
4. I have been watching his magic and juggling show for almost 15 years. And he still dazzles me every time he is performing. Even when I have seen it for about a thousand times. Or know the secret. It is still magic.
3. He includes our children. He patiently explains things he is fixing. From painting the dining room to fixing the washing machine they are right there beside him. And not just the boys. He shows our girls how to fix stuff as well. He teaches them tricks to be in shows. He gives them little jobs so that Firefly is our family ministry, not just his show. And the pride in their eyes shows that they love to be included.
2. He can fix anything. If he does not know how to fix something, he learns how. From vacuums, to washing machines. From hot water heaters to cars. He keeps it going. And he is not afraid to call his dad for some guidance.
1. He lives his faith. He is exactly the same man at home as in public. He is the real deal. Praying with and for us, explaining Scriptures, telling stories to illustrate the right way to live, encouraging the children to not follow him, but to follow his Father. But I am confident that if they follow him, they will be following Jesus.
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