Homeschool To Do List
February 11, 2010 by Renae
Melancholy settled in as the hours passed. My to do list unmarked except for what I’d deemed most important: prayer, Bible reading, school lessons, and home-cooked meals.
Those things took all day. Literally, all day. What about the pencil-scratched trail of obligations and ideas for things I wanted to pursue?
My brain tried to focus in the quiet of the night, but darkness and sleep shut out the whispers of failure. That was enough for one day.
I am task-oriented by nature, so my spirit lifts when I can stand back and look at accomplishments. The dullness comes from my weary eyes. They glance around the room and get caught on the undone and the messes. Yes, meals are consumed, but the smiles and laughter linger. Lessons are, hopefully, stored in the hearts of my children. My little prayer book is stashed away to collect even more memories later.
This is my life now. This is what is important.
The lists in my notebook grow each day, but the time I have with these children is short. Oh, some days feel like they last forever. The truth is they don’t.
Now is the time to make messes, so I brought the craft table in off the porch.
Now is the time to read great books, so I let my son devour a biography during our normal math time.
Now is the time to make a home, so I close my eyes to the missing boards around the windows and the torn up bathroom. Those things will be fixed in time, but I don’t want to miss the eternal for a nagging piece of paper. The truly important things I do in a day are hard to check off as done.
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
Perspective Needed
December 28, 2009 by Renae
My daughter received a doll house for Christmas complete with family and furniture. I wish she received a time machine instead, so the hours this toy has scattered across the house could be retrieved. Grandpa hides in a vase. Grandma faints under the couch. Sister peeks from the bookshelf. Mommy and Daddy search for Baby in the laundry basket. And lamps roll around the bathroom.
I didn’t get into this pick-up game completely clueless. While inserting screws for hours, I glimpsed a hint of the minutes this house would consume. It was worth it though. The finished product was perfect, the highlight of all the toys.
Two months later, the abandoned house sits in a corner. The furniture constantly gathered to make “soup” or “presents.” Will this nemesis of housekeeping be missed? Can I sneak it out during the night?
Maybe it’s an issue of perspective. Webster’s 1828 Dictionary defines perspective as “a glass through which objects are viewed.” Sometimes, the glass needs a good cleaning.
Gazing through the mist of life, requires imagination and hope. I clearly see the tasks of the day, but there is an unseen picture, of utmost importance, easier to forget. Sally Clarkson, author of Educating the Wholehearted Child, encourages me to continue overcoming my myopia.
“Often, I find that in the absence of a clear enough vision for their children and homes, mothers replace conviction and vision with lots of activities and distractions for their children. This hyper-activity and rushing around to an endless list of expensive lessons and experiences and the buying of the newest expensive curriculum and technological options make moms feel like they are accomplishing something. However, when the home-life of children is rich with excellent, classic literature, passionate Biblical devotions, rousing dinner-table discussions around sumptuous, tasty meals, lots of love and affection given and household chores attended to—a child will become committed to all that is good and excellent and develop a moral and compassionate soul for all the divinely important values.”
Moving the classic toy on top of the dresser brings everything into focus. My girls are now eye-level with the miniature world. Complaints turn into delight as Polly Pocket visits Sister Laura. Grandmother uses the stove to cook soup, instead of the kitchen table and chairs being stirred in a pan. The family and furniture often stay home now. Peace to us all.
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
Feeding My Pride
November 11, 2009 by Renae
Because the lyrics of my life include Rich Mullins’ songs, someone gave me a twenty-six page magazine about the self-proclaimed ragamuffin. There are many pithy quotes in the Release Extra, but this one echoes.
I don’t feed my ego by wearing pretentious clothes or by cutting my hair in pretentious ways or by snubbing people in hotel lobbies. That’s not the way I feed my ego. The way I feed my ego is much more insidious and sneaky, but just as real…
I relate. Otherwise, these words would loosen their grip of my heart.
My family tries to lives simply. We bought an ugly house and make lists of what we’ll fix someday. Dreaming about converting the garage and remodeling the bathroom is easier than actually doing it. It’s cheaper, too.
One of our cars is an old station wagon. It isn’t held together with duct tape (yet), but most of the paint is gone.
My wardrobe consists of t-shirts, jeans, and a few skirts. I do not like putting on make-up. My hair is short, because I don’t want to mess with it every morning. Those external things don’t make me humble. I inflate opinions of myself in other ways.
My pride gorges itself with thoughts of invincibility. I am strong. I like to think I can keep the house clean and children laughing, while speaking gentle words of wisdom. Then the sun rises, and I pull the quilt over my head.
I want to be regarded as thoughtful, smart, and capable. But just when I’ve got things under control and figured out, children grow, seasons change, finances squeeze, or the dryer breaks. The laundry stacks up and the floor collects dirt.
It is easy for me to see when others put extra pressure on themselves, but if the load is on my back I often miss it. Glancing over my shoulder, I am astonished by the tangled weight of expectations. The extra fat I carry is from feeding my ego. God intends for me to run with the foot soldiers, but I lag behind wriggling the pack on my back. Instead of carrying the messy mass, I need to let it go.
There is a weight to carry. It is the weight of God’s glory, not mine.
“Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
Habits and Hypocrisy
October 25, 2009 by Renae
Throughout childhood, I read a chapter of the Bible every night. My good habit was challenged in high school. Routine became hypocritical, so I stopped. I only read the Word of God when I felt like it.
I cannot recall a specific teacher who introduced this twisted idea of hypocrisy. But somewhere along the way, I concluded feelings revealed how to be true to myself. This decision didn’t affect my school work. For some odd reason, algebra assignments and history essays were completed in spite of grumbling.
The disconnect remained for years. Sometimes I wonder if emotions and reality were shoved together and are still mismatched.
Washing 895 loads of laundry a month, preparing 302 meals a week, and cleaning floors 101 times a day had no place in my youthful dreams. My prince would build a cottage beneath the mountains where we would enjoy sunsets and thunderstorms. I didn’t realize how many floods would come.
Emotions are a gift from the Lord, but we are not designed to live according to the mood of the moment. Right now, I don’t feel like homeschooling. The honeymoon has worn off. The excitement of our first steps into learning brings a smile of remembrance. Our library overflows the space allotted to it. The first books return to the top of the pile.
I’m not excited to teach phonograms again, but joy is set before me.
The joy of hearing words leap off the page.
The joy of reading my little girl’s love notes.
The joy of seeing my child read the Word of God.
It is not hypocrisy to choose love no matter what feelings say. My emotions kick and prod, but they are not Lord.
Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him…, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:1-2)
Photo credit: amulligan
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
Can I Go to School?
September 21, 2009 by Renae
At three thirty every afternoon a dingy yellow school bus rambles past our house. My oldest and I are invariably working on math lessons while the little ones sleep, or, at least, are in their room supposed to be asleep. My son gazes wistfully out of the window wishing he could be finished. Then I hear the dreaded question,
Can I go to school?
Honestly, this hasn’t been much of an issue. Once my son stated he wanted to home school in college. I replied, “That is not going to happen, but can I attend university with you?” My son laughed, but I think he got the point. Someday it is time to leave home.
How do I address this question on the occasions it does arise? First I remember that his request is based on a false perception. Multiplication problems are not his idea of fun. The children bouncing on the bus are on their way home to eat, to play, to relax. Or are they?
Reviewing reality, I discuss our daily schedule versus wake up at 6:30 a.m., eat breakfast, leave, and return home at 3:30 p.m. with homework. Granted, sometimes this idea sounds nice to me. Those days that I want to quit. Those days the dog slurps the spilled milk off the table, and a toddler doesn’t quite make it to the bathroom. Those days lessons stall, because of interruptions.
Then I think of what my days would resemble if my son did attend school elsewhere. My house might be clean, but I would miss sharing the daily stuff of life.
My son acknowledges this, too. He realizes we have time. Time to enjoy breakfast. Time to watch the birds. Time to reason. Time to rest. Time to imagine. When I hear the bus coming, I no longer cringe. Remembering the reasons we home school benefits both of us. We do have time. I don’t have to rush. I want to cherish the joy of the moment.
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
Questioning Homeschool
August 25, 2009 by Renae
A couple weeks ago, the Heart of the Matter Homeschool Conference became my talk radio. Fellow homeschoolers encouraged while I painted cabinets, dressed dolls, washed dishes, folded laundry, and skipped around the internet.
There were so many helpful ideas. So many passionate speakers. So many foundational truths. How do I sort it all? Even encouragement becomes cacophony unless the grains are sifted for a few sweet morsels to gnaw.
It is easy to get overwhelmed. Full-color magazines with 185 pages of glowing reviews tempt me to purchase the latest, greatest curriculum. Veteran homeschoolers elaborate on what works for their families. Friends gush about the latest book they read. And I wonder,
Have I chosen the right lessons? Should I change our schedule? Why don’t I add more crafts? And timelines? I need to read more, and plan more, and organize, and…
Questioning is not bad, but running after an illusion is detrimental. There is no perfect curriculum. There will be gaps in understanding. We cannot give our children everything they need to know to fulfill their purpose, but we can start them in the right direction.
Somewhere along the way, we need to learn and teach grace:
- The free unmerited love and favor of God, the spring and source of all the benefits men receive from him
- Favorable influence of God; divine influence or the influence of the spirit, in renewing the heart and restraining from sin (Webster’s 1828 Dictionary)
Grace for ourselves. Grace for our children. Divine influence renewing my heart and restraining me with gentle, quiet truth.
Truth revealed in many ways. Sermons, speeches, friends, children, nature, and even my dreaded mistakes teach me. Quieting the opinions, I reflect and realize I have a guide who loves and knows me and my children. He led me here, and His influence matters most.
The conference speakers shared great ideas I look forward to reviewing, but they cannot all be adapted into our homeschool. Hulling the grains reveals the golden gems worth savoring.
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
Raising Children to Live a Normal Life
June 30, 2009 by Renae
While reading Little Homeschool on the Prairie’s review of the documentary Grown Without School, a quote captured my attention:
There is a myth that through homeschooling you can achieve…more than a normal life.
I want to raise the next George Washington, Albert Einstein, or, for a current example, Ravi Zacharias. In my dream, my children are famous, and make a positive impact as salt and light in the lives of multitudes. Maybe this will happen, but, most likely, they will live a normal life.
They will grow up to be employees, business owners, parents. They will struggle when making life-altering decisions. Their clothes will get dirty, and they will experience pain. Hard work is before them.
How do I best prepare my little ones to value this earthly routine? Can a quiet life ebb with joy through the trials to come? Proverbs 4:23 admonishes,
Keep your heart with all diligence,
For out of it spring the issues of life.
According to Webster’s 1828 Dictionary, the Latin root of the word diligence is to love earnestly; to choose. Love takes constant effort, steady application, and exertion, but without it life is meaningless. Heroes love whether or not acknowledged by the crowds. They walk amid the common things and extraordinary events knowing that even an ordinary life is worth sacrifice.
Salt is meant to be sprinkled, not poured. Light illuminates, but even the sun does not shine everywhere at once.
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
The Perfect Homeschool
June 2, 2009 by Renae
It must be the end of the school year. Homeschool conventions lure. Advertisements for curriculum pile up on my desk. I flip colorful magazine pages reading descriptions. The sentences are full of promise. Amazing results: master difficult subjects easily…learn new languages fluently…teach multiple ages simply. Red pen scrawls circles around temptations and fingers press page corners toward the marks.
Tied to these note-filled pages are questions of fear and insecurity. Will we cover everything my children need to know? Will we finish math and English? What about Bible and science and art and history and penmanship and typing and Spanish and literature?
I gaze at the bookshelves surrounding my desk and see slow starts, abandoned plans, and half-finished textbooks. The little bits we’ve done create spindly knots that reach out to trip me.
Another rope reaches out. I stumble across Sue Patrick’s Workbox System. Plastic boxes in a row pull even more than the curriculum reviews. Organizational bliss! I’ve read the rave reviews. I thought of ways to modify it, and I’m still thinking. Would this really work for us? It’s a good idea, but it’s just one idea. The real test is in continued implementation. It’s easy to start stuff. It takes tenacity to complete it. (That is why my son’s math book still has fifty-four lessons left.)
The entanglements are internal. It comes back to character. Always. And I’m not as persistent or patient as I like to imagine. The newness of homeschooling has worn off. Some of the fear has dissipated, but we must press on. I’m not ready to reject choices I already made because something might be better.
There is no perfect curriculum. There is no perfect implementation. Seeking homeschool utopia ends in defeat. A race run in circles beginning and ending with the heart.
Keep your heart with all diligence, for out of it spring the issues of life. Proverbs 4:23
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
My Own Life is a Phantom
May 5, 2009 by Renae
Sometimes I get frustrated by the sacrifices required to be a mother, wife, and homeschool teacher. I rarely get time to myself until after sunset, but staying up late to enjoy the quiet makes me tired with a propensity towards grumpiness no amount of coffee can remedy.
My hobbies are stuffed in closets rarely to be seen. Most of my conversations begin with the question, “Why?” or “What?” and do not end until I say, “Let’s have a snack.” I serve apples slices. Then clean up the salt my youngest used to finger paint the table while my son jumps around asking more questions.
Living amid confusion and chaos is common for mothers; however, what we do has a higher purpose.
The most basic place of our sacramental living is in our marriages and homes and families. Here we live together in well-reasoned love for everyone around us. Here we experience the sacrament of the present moment…
C. S. Lewis wisely observed, ‘the great thing, if one can say it, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course what one calls interruptions are precisely one’s real life–the life God is sending one day by day: what one calls one’s ‘real life’ is a phantom of one’s own imagination.’ Streams of Living Water by Richard J. Foster
I am living my real life, and it is good. Wiping little noses, answering questions all day every day, reading Winnie the Pooh over and over, and bringing cups of water to my children (after they have been put in bed), are privileges in the eyes of eternity.
Renae teaches her ten-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
The First Gardener
April 15, 2009 by Renae
I step outside to find my lost student. After days of cold, the warmth of the sun touches my face compelling me to linger. The breeze pulls me farther out in spite of the open door.
My son paces around the swing set collecting his thoughts and scattering them again with imagination. I remind him we needed to finish lessons.
Then I glance down at my weed-filled garden next to the porch. Boards and ladders smashed the tangled plants during a recent project. I cannot believe my eyes. Is that a blush of red?
Two ripe strawberries peek out among the clover and chickweed.
Neglected plants dropped into the ground last year with hope, but barren for a whole season. Now roots spread beneath the rubble of leaves and sticks.
I pull weeds and unearth the harvest. It is too early for such growth, but juicy red fruit reminds me of a promise.
My son and I share the large pink strawberry. Bite by bite we examine the seeds and remember:
As the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55: 10-11, NIV)
The tiny seeds we plant in the hearts of our children are watered by the Lord. In the barren seasons, it is easy to doubt. When weeds flourish, it is easy to despair.
Remember we can’t see underneath the surface. That is the magic and mystery of life. It comes from within, the realm of conscious tended by the Holy Spirit. And he’s been a gardener since the very beginning.
Renae teaches her eleven-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for six years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
