Story Stretchers – Joseph Had a Little Overcoat

Years ago when our adult sons were small we had a couple volumes called Story Stretchers. (here and here – they are a PENNY today. Still find that stunning.  I saved so long to buy books pre-amazon days)  Like the outstanding Five in a Row volumes that would come later they took a children's book and created activities based on the story's location or language or illustrations.  We haven't done full-out units in a while but I always find some element in a story we can build on a little. Once you work through Five in a Row you just start to see all sorts of potential rabbit trails inside a book. 

We read Joseph Had a Little Overcoat last week.  I love this book and like the best picture books there is so much happening in the illustrations that goes over children's heads but is totally engrossing for the grown-up reading.  Shortly after we got the book the little girls ran through the knees of a couple pair of leggings.  This is a rather regular event.  Tough girls, we have.  Before we tossed them we talked about Joseph and looked to see if there was potentially some more life in them.  

Cotton knit headbands are a favorite of Tess and Alannah right now since they don't pinch behind the ears and can hold back heavy hair.  (and don't crack in half when small people overextend them…) When I looked at them they were seriously just a tube of t-shirting.  For a dollar or two a piece?  So before tossing the trashed leggings we cut a tube off across the tops between the waistband and legs.  Quick work to turn right sides together and sew a seam, leaving a bit for turning.  You don't really even have to bother with a seam if you fold the band when you put it on or cut it into a strip and tie it instead.  

Not the world's most glamorous tute.  Just a little practical 'stretcher.'   

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 these came from pants like these…

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Now if someone can point me to some girl proof leggings I'd be a happy woman. : ) 

taking notes

 

 There has been a lot of notebook love going around here. I am loving it too in this latest incarnation.  The younger children all got simple bound sketchbooks just for lesson time. Unlike the millions of drafts and doodles on printer paper, only the very best work gets done in the notebook.  Unlike the millions of pieces of printer paper, the work stays together.  

Bound books for the win.

The girls picked up Grandma Chickenlegs during our long awaited first library trip locally.  I probably wouldn't have picked it up myself but it ended up being a good read.  Tess was quick to tell me the story had elements from both Hansel and Gretel and Cinderella.  We talked about story elements and found some printables. My heart isn't in printables at the moment, partly because there is no printer and partly because of those millions of pieces of paper thing.  We ended up making our own simple pages including those things mentioned on the posters. 

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We've made a page a day since and I hope to share some more. 

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From one morning this week.  We improvised games from this book and another favorite. Goes like this….

How many animals are in the pen? 

Are there more inside or out in the pasture?

If the farmer has 3 animals and he brings in 3 more how many will he have?  

If he sells 4 how many will be left?  

The farmer wants 5 more (2 less, none, more, etc) in the pen.  

He has three pens with 2 animals in each.  

These 8 animals need to split into two pens.

Do you have to add/subtract/multiply/divide? 

Can you write a number story for that? 

and on and on and on and on : ) 

Painless review and practice of the four operations and I almost made peace with the Littlest Pet Store critters. 

Almost.

making room for school

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There is a definite autumnal feel to our days lately.  Summer not only peaked at solstice but pretty much only happened during that small window.  It's been cool and breezy and probably just right to nudge us towards the coming school year. We won't be starting for a couple of weeks due to upcoming travel and overseas book shipments.  What happens now is likely even more important than the 'start' date though.  

It is rather taken for granted that the focus in the weeks and months that lead up to 'back to school' is on adding – books, supplies, uniforms (school or sports or both), programs, activities. If those things are to be peacefully woven into our homes and our days we have to practice the art of subtraction.  A familiar design principle, it is just as relevant to crafting focused, peaceful days as to creating art. 

So, right now we are making room in our personal spaces.  One by one we have been purging bedrooms and closets.  Outgrown clothes removed, needed sizes noted.  Windows and baseboards had been neglected and there probably won't be time for them once fall schedules begin so those are getting some attention now. The bookshelves are being sorted, last year's books taken down.  School supplies purged and restocked. The vehicles have been emptied and vacuumed in anticipation of lots of commuting. 

We have been talking about ways to make room inside ourselves too.  The learning we have such high hopes for often ends up competing with ipod playlists, instagram images, facebook feeds, and 24hr news.  Never before have people lived without pause and we are not thriving with the incessant inflow. At some point you can no longer effectively process new input and that affects both essentials and non-essentials rather indiscriminately.

Not good.

More than that, it has struck me so often as the years go by that there is very little opportunity for boredom and I think that's a shame.  Tragic actually. Our older children read or explored simply because there wasn't something else to do.  Without constant entertainment you make your own.  You doodle, you build things, you take walks, you strike up card games.  So we are corraling the screens to a small portion of the days, my own days as well.  I spend a fair amount of screen time with my digital darkroom (photoshop etc)  Lots of time is needed to turn out produce rich, nutrient dense meals for a houseful.  I am trying to speak – with real live audible words – to my adult children and distant friends on a regular basis.  Spoken conversation takes time.  That time needs to be consciously carved out and necessarily leaves less for other things. 

Moms often find themselves, midyear, chasing after solutions to what are actually secondary problems.  Kids are naughty, laundry piles, exhaustion hits.  Often several different little fires we are trying to put out are sparked by the same flame. So before we start filling up the calendar and the house, we are emptying.  

Making room.

 

Some related thoughts:

Re-forming the space

on blogging

Ask the Dad

The Virtue of Silence for the Teacher

High Desert Home wisdom

How does she do it?

How not to be overwhelmed

this filled my days

 

 

 

 

On our road trip to Leeds for a dance competition we squeezed in a few field trips.  The big surprise was the Thackeray medical museum.  We planned very last minute and the museum randomly pulled up in a list of local sights. I am glad I clicked on that link because this sleeper attraction was worth every penny. 

The first part of our tour was the "Streets of Old Leeds" which I expected to be much like the much loved "Streets of Old Milwaukee"  from my childhood museum. Yeah, but no.   Truly this was one of the most realistic and disturbing recreations I've ever been through.  Unique to this place was the smell.  They piped in exceptionally realistic stench which had us a bit gaggy.  There was audio too.  Wailing animals and chopping sounds at the blood stained slaughter house, moans of the sick, vendors hawking their wares.  At several points the little ones jumped or gasped or turned for an exit and Moira and I were half-tempted to do the same.  We are glad we pushed through though.  It made an impression few book explanations could have. If you are interested there is a virtual tour here.  Without smell-avision you will have to take our word for the rest.

There were fabulous displays of vintage medical equipment and medications, complete with explanations of the procedures and how they've evolved.  Lots of film footage was available.  Just truly fascinating even for kids.  

My only gripe came while I was completely engrossed in the maternity section reading the stories and seeing all the apparatus used over the years. The exhibit closed with huge quotes on the displays which led one to the conclusion that "people who love children only have one or two because you could never do enough for more."  To which I just reminded children of mine – numbers 5, 8 and 9 – that love multiplies, it does not divide. 

 

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of planning and penguins

 

Yesterday Katherine shared the story of moving from curriculum designer back to homeschool mom. Then Charlotte shared her perspective. I can relate to both though I don't always articulate well.  Although we are nearly halfway through this journey, having graduated four of the ten, each day is still full to the brim learning with the ones still at home.  It is hard to explain how some things on this end of the journey turned out to be so different, while other parts remain so much the same. 

It is heard so very often among homeschool moms that, "I am too much of a perfectionist to let anyone else plan my curriculum."  What we came to realize however was that by high school this was no longer about "my" curriculum, "my" perfectionism. This is their education.  We have watched this play out a number of different ways in different families, rarely exactly as we moms expected. 

When they were all under 12 I had this picture of tots-to-teens all gathered around the table engrossed in study.  It does sometimes happen now (though more often for meals or family games) but we found it became increasingly difficult to fit teens into an elementary school schedule.  They get part time jobs.  They find wonderful courses at local colleges or community centers.  They have club meetings, they help run church programs, they train for sports.  They like to gather a blanket and their books and retreat to a quiet spot at the patio table or find me in my room later to go over a lesson or work at the library.

As they transition from the cocoon of home to the wider world it begins to feel awkward limiting them to the same schedule of rising, sleeping, and studying that works for a 10yo.  Needs change, as do abilities.  It is no longer sensible to hold back the other students when one was unavailable – which is many days – or when one wants to fly ahead. 

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Individualized learning is the mantra of home education.  Sometimes this translates into the assumption that our students are unable to excel with any other program which we did not carefully prepare for them.  In truth, however, the intellectually adventurous homeschool student is resilient, adaptable, and ideally capable of extracting truth and knowledge from many and varied sources. In fact, it seems prudent to begin helping them learn to discern truth and error from outside sources at this stage.  We are making them students of the world after all, and that world is no longer contained in these four walls.  It is a humbling thing to acknowledge that someone else might just be able to do as well as we can.  

What I couldn't picture then was my new role as mom of teens – mentor, advisor, guide.  No longer producing the whole show but still helping to direct and keep things on schedule. What I couldn't picture then was how much time and energy that would take.  They need transportation to all those wonderful activities. They need to walk and talk about college, about relationships, about finances, about faith. They need us to be in the stands and on the sidelines cheering them.  They need to eat.  A lot. A way lot.  More than you might think. 

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While they are doing all these tremendous things, younger brothers and sisters are still sounding out phonics words, learning times tables, mastering scales on the piano, needing reminders about flossing and feeding the dog.  Laundry and dishes wait for no man.  And you might just like to sew something or take pictures or jog or keep a journal or plant a garden or go to coffee.  This brings me to the penguins….

I was visiting with a friend at dance practice and had mentioned what I had done that day.  Then I mentioned the things I had not done that because of those other extra things we had accomplished.  She said, "Yes, because of the penguins."  I looked blank.  She said, "Did I ever tell you about my iceberg?"  She held her hand out pointing to the palm facing up.  "This is my iceberg.  I can only fit so many penguins on this iceberg at one time. At that point, when a new penguin jumps on one side, another gets pushed off the other."  

yes.

Moral of the story, the iceberg is a fixed size.  We must tally up our penguins accordingly. We can do so many wonderful things, but not at the same time. I could not have imagined ten years ago that curriculum development, which positively consumed me for many years, would no longer occupy so much iceberg real estate.  It seemed certain to me, then, that the day I stopped planning would be the day I lost heart for homeschooling.  As it turned out, letting go of the planning penguins freed up all sorts of space in my life to do WITH with the children.  

Now when that that package arrives in late summer I see not only education materials but the gift of time. Hours and hours given to me which would have been spent organizing and scheduling. For me, those manuals are not stifling nor enslaving, rather they are freeing.  We are now free to pass these summer weeks finishing up short lessons and then heading outside to watch snails climb up sturdy stems and take little dogs to run beside the grain fields.  When the days grow shorter and weather turns we can open the new year's books and pick right back up.  Is is now a familiar rhythm.

Will we ever do things differently?  That is entirely possible.  Penguins shift in real life. Ours may too.  I no longer feel the need to predict the future nor prescribe for others.  This is working.  There is peace today.  That is enough. 

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Adding the rather obvious post script that I have no pics of teens on this post. : )  They all three have had exceptionally big weeks and my lens has not caught any of them the past few days. 

taking a dip

 

“We have such a brief opportunity to pass on to our children our love for this Earth, and to tell our stories. These are the moments when the world is made whole. In my children's memories, the adventures we've had together in nature will always exist.”

Last Child in the Woods

The children got a chance to meet with the biologists on base this month and help assess the health of the pond.  This is determined, we discovered, by the variety of critters those nets pull up.  The good word is that there were plenty – plenty of muddy, slimy, slippery critters dredged up by very enthusiastic budding biologists.  

They learned that presence of too many of the itty bitty bloodworms would suggest the pond is low on oxygen and that he dragonfly nymph is apparently the equivalent of the lion in the jungle – king.  Said critter obliged by demonstrating an impressive consumption of a teeny shrimp. 

The bigs had to take a bye on this trip since it was dental appointment day for them. 

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can you dig it?

 A morning at the dig site. The children got a tour first where they showed some of the Roman and Saxon artifacts that have been unearthed locally to include a Saxon warrior buried with his horse.  Then we headed out to the current dig site.  Since the area has been rich in archeological finds the local government requires the archeologist team to come in during excavation and remove anything significant before building begins.  

The area is divided into squares which are shoveled off in thin layers with trowels.  Then they sift into buckets.  Overandoverandoveragain. My hat's off to them because 20 minutes in this job gets a little tedious.  Abbie Rose hit jackpot however.  She  pulled up a tiny piece of Saxon pottery.  (not what she is holding)  

In case this is starting to look like the little people are the stars of the show I should point out the site organizers split up the kids into teams and we had to stay with the littles. This happens alot, so they get the most press.  Moira, Aidan and Kieran were on the other end of the dig site though.  

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Of tears on tulips and just doing it

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There are many pictures piling up here.   Archeology digs, pond dipping, soccer games. One girl is driving.  A future being speculated upon.  And work.  Lots of work. And more play.  And then sleep has to happen and the day is all gone and the pictures languish.  (Actually they aren't languishing long because I am working on albums.  The paper and glue sort.  All old school and low tech.)  

I have talked with moms young and no longer young in stolen minutes in between. As I have listened to exhaustion and exasperation I remember my own. What women want to know is where to find these answers, those strategies.  The right consequences to make kids behave, choose well. Clean stuff. : )  I know this.  I did that.  And it wasted much time, only postponing what really needed to happen to create peace and progress.  That bit was me being all those things I wished they would be – orderly, peaceful, diligent, merciful.  It was about getting UP from my projects, my book, whatever and being present and accounted for.  Right in the thick of things as often as possible.  Doing it all together.  The laundry, the dishes, the ball games too. 

(on a side note: A friend shared a fabulous site called GOYBP – get off your butt parenting.  It sums up what many of us figured out.  You just have to get up and engage. Be the grown up. Follow through.  Fix the breakdown.  Prevent future breakdowns by being there before it goes south, since most kid problems happen when they are left unattended.) 

Lest it sounds like I have arrived in this journey I am humbling admitting that daily I have to remind myself how this dynamic works.  And why it doesn't when it isn't working. It is nearly always the same.  Getting off my bum and engaging.  So that's where I am right now.  Stuff is cleaner this way. : ) 

Two things have happened that brought it into focus.  A younger mom friend was saying how she met two 'workhorse moms' at a camp and how well their families worked.  I remembered workhorse moms in my past.  They spent most of their waking hours well, working, except they never gave the impression it was work.  They were reaping so many blessings by their efforts that it was clearly benefitting them as well as their families. Peace.  Joy. Progress.

We got word last night that one of those moms from our own past died this week.  She was just a few years older than I and tried to tell me these things in a long ago and far away life, when I had just three little boys, really wanted a nap, and lived for mom's nite out. She pressed ahead modeling that diligence, raising nine kids, mentoring women, and moving with her military husband.  They welcomed grandparents into their home.  They sent kids to seminary. And then a rare cancer struck and in her early 50's with elementary school kids still at home she was gone.   I sincerely doubt she had many wasted days to her name.  She left a strong team behind. 

Coincidentally today we read a euology in our book:

"…he simply did his duty in all things, and did it so cheerfully, so faithfully, that it kept him patient and brave, and happy through poverty and loneliness and years of hard work. He was a good son, and gave up his own plans to stay and live with his mother while she needed him. He was a good friend, and taught…much beside Greek and Latin, did it unconsciously, perhaps, by showing an example of an upright man. He was a faithful servant, and made himself so valuable to those who employed him that they will find it hard to fill his place. He was a good husband and father, so tender, wise, and thoughtful, that Laurie and I learned much of him, and only knew how well he loved his family, when we discovered all he had done for them, unsuspected and unassisted."

He never asked help for himself, though often for others, but bore his own burden and worked out his own task bravely and quietly. No one can say a word of complaint against him, so just and generous and kind was he; and now, when he is gone, all find so much to love and praise and honor, that I am proud to have been his friend, and would rather leave my children the legacy he leaves his than the largest fortune ever made. Yes! Simple, generous goodness is the best capital to found the business of this life upon. It lasts when fame and money fail, and is the only riches we can take out of this world with us."  Little Men

That first line holds the secret – doing it all cheerfully, kindly, and generously kept him patient, brave, and happy.  

The very things we balk at turned out to be the very things that make life better. Make us happier.  So it seems so much easier to just do it.