Lesson by Lesson/Day by Day

Gavin poses with his Crusader Helmet.

Sean holds up his helmet that he fit onto his stuffed animal. It's good to have crusading stuffies in your room, I think.

When people find out that I am homeschooling my boys, I usually get one of two responses: open-mouthed gaping or deep intakes of breath followed by, "Oh wow. I could never do that." I always smile when I hear that because I know, for a fact, that most people could do what I am doing and probably would do it better than I am. My boys are in second grade, so we've not quite breached differential calculus or frog dissection; therefore, I'm able to handle the teaching so far. And while the boys and I do get on each other's nerves and I do overreact on a regular basis to their squirming and loss of focus (still working on that), we've had some great lessons and have learned some amazing things. I include myself in the learning because what I think makes the difference for me and what makes our schooling successful so far is that I am truly excited to see what the boys are going to learn (and I'm going to teach) tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that, etc. I have chosen to not peruse every aspect of the curriculum and prepare myself for a week's worth of lessons. Instead, I am choosing to take each day as it comes and learn along with them. The result is a more relaxed learning environment and a great deal of surprise and joy when we get to each lesson.

This particular method might sound a little lame coming from the teacher (or Learning Coach as CAVA calls us) who is supposed to be prepared to teach, and I have to admit that sometimes this system works better than others (for instance, when I realized I should have planted bean seeds a week prior to the lesson on soil types), but I've found that it has for the most part worked out really well. I can see and prepare as far ahead as I want, but I choose to go unit by unit, day by day. The boys and I tackle a unit at a time in each subject, so I have an idea of what we'll be learning each week or two, but leaving all the details up to the individual day means that I'm learning some new things (or remembering) along with them and I love it.

Because this is second grade, we're mostly dealing with the basics in all subjects, so my teaching is not overly taxing. I do push them farther in some subjects, especially writing and literature, because these are my favorites and they WILL BE THEIRS TOO (okay, just kidding -- sort of). What's been so fun is that in other subjects like History we know we're going to tackle Medieval Europe and the Crusades, but we won't know exactly which aspects until we get to each individual lesson. It's been so exciting. And when we come across something that interests the boys, we can research that new topic together right then, such as "What did Joan of Arc's battle banner really look like?" or after yesterday's lesson on abbreviations: "Why does ee cummings not use capitals?" How much more fun would public education be if every child could stop in the middle of his/her school day and research something that caught his/her attention?

My hope is that the boys will continue to be excited about lessons. Mind you, they are not excited about all their lessons, and I do have to encourage them during those that seem monotonous. However, I am gratified when they get excited about something and can start making other connections or just groove in the moment, like when they were identifying types of rocks or creating a character web about Pandora or constructing their Crusader helmets (see above). I want them to love learning about all kinds of things and go that extra mile to research something that piques their interest or fascinates them. It can't be all about Pokemon (Please, God, please let it not be all about Pokemon), so making sure that the boys are having fun and are learning something new every day has brought both contentment and joy.

I mean it when I say that anyone could do this. It's all a matter of doing things one step at a time. Lesson by lesson. Day by day.

Shakespeare's Birthday!

According to a fantastic website I looked at, this is a copy of Shakespeare's signature. I have seen it, or something like it, before, and I'm sure it's one of many he used in his lifetime as his name and signature seemed to change over time. As I gaze upon the letters, I find that this signature is simple, straightforward, a way for a man to mark his identity. Proof that he is who he says he is. But I am in awe when I realize that the man who perhaps scrawled this quickly on a piece of parchment is the same one who sat one day and began to put down his thoughts on the human condition.

I have no qualms about the authorship question. There is no controversy for me. Shakespeare was a genius and probably the most celebrated genius of all time, with some notable exceptions, but since it's his birthday, I'm giving him the top spot. Shakespeare knew about everything and had an innate understanding about most everything. He knew what it felt like to love someone and to lose someone. He understood the human emotions of lust, greed, anger, envy, and he wrote about what could happen if these emotions ruled the heart. He understood his society's conventions and how they trapped some people and motivated others. When he yearned for a different type of life, he created one for himself and knew that in his lifetime, a man would be able to "fashion" himself a new identity and that the class system was changing.

He also knew about what others in society thought. He knew the distrust of anyone from the continent and used those prejudices to inform his work. He knew that women had a role to play in furthering society, but he was too smart to keep them confined to stereotypes. He understood a woman's power, and his greatest works reflect an equality and a balance that is so refreshing. Why did Antony and Cleopatra and Hamlet and Ophelia and countless others not survive as lovers where Benedick and Beatrice did? The answer is that the latter couple gave of their whole hearts, putting aside pride and power for love. It was a gamble, a huge risk, but Shakespeare knew that the best answers and the best solutions always lie with the truth.

For these reasons and many more, I celebrate the man today who makes reading worthwhile and who has been the inspiration for millions of writers, poets and students of humanity. Thank you, sir, for loving language and creating feasts of words for us. We draw up to the banquet these hundreds of years later and are amazed still by your offerings. Happy Birthday to the Bard.

The Ponyo Initiative

The kids and I watched Ponyo the other night. It is such a great movie. We loved it, and I highly recommend it. It is unlike anything we had ever seen before, and we all liked that it was new and different. The colors and animation are great, and we recognized many of the characters' voices (Well, I did at least. I'm not sure they know who Liam Neeson is -- yet).

What struck me most about the story (other than the catchy theme song at the end) is that the five-year-old main character, Sosuke, is very wise for his age and very aware, and he is asked by his mother to do something that no five-year-old I know would be able to do. (I will not spoil the surprise.) Now, this does not detract from the story in any way; it just got me thinking about kids today and what they can/cannot or should/should not be asked to do or should learn to do.

I think the term I am after is Initiative. Do kids today possess the same type of initiative that we did or our parents did? Is it even necessary? In the movie, the character sets out on an adventure, but he's FIVE! What is going through his mind? Does he realize what he's doing? We know he's made some type of plan because he packs food in a bag and GETS SOME MATCHES, and again, it got me thinking: what do my kids know? What could they do if circumstances called for action? Could they act, or would they fall apart waiting for a parental figure to tell them what to do? Have I equipped my kids to survive? Should they know how to light a match?

In the great adventure stories I used to watch on Wide World of Disney, most of the characters were young, no older than 10 or 12. These children were expected to survive in the wilderness or solve crimes or escape to Witch Mountain or be so sure of themselves that they could find a solution in any situation. I think of Tom Sawyer or Pollyana or even Laura Ingalls. By the time they were five, they knew stuff. By the time they were my kids' ages, they could run a household. I loved these stories because the kids were brave and did the right thing most of the time. They made smart choices, hard choices, and the right choices. What kind of choices would my kids make?

In these wonderful modern times, we have taken most of the physical danger out of growing up and replaced it with a more nebulous fear. (I add a disclaimer here that not all kids' lives are pictures of safety and wholesomeness. I know that there are plenty of kids for whom survival is a daily battle, and for them I pray that safety becomes reality.) What I mean is that the hardships our forefathers experienced are no longer part of our suburban kids' reality. They don't need to know how to make a fire in the woods or hunt for food or whittle. Our kids are warned of the dangers of smoking, drugs, strangers and YouTube, and most heed those warnings, but they sure as heck don't understand Morse Code or which berries are good to eat and why you shouldn't stick your hand into a random hole in the ground. They can stop, drop and roll and lie on the floor if they smell smoke, but if push came to shove, where would our modern kids be if the lights went out and the games went dark and the refrigerator stopped running? Could they calmly grab a flashlight, pull some bottled water from the garage and look for the first aid kit? When would they stop crying and realize they needed to make some decisions?

I guess my musings bring me back to survival and what we need to be teaching our kids in this advanced world. What is their first line of defense if something were to go wrong -- earthquake, fire, flood, etc.? What do they need to know to survive? All they've ever heard is "Don't play with matches!" What if they really needed to light one? We tell our kids to stay away from the stove and the tools, so they have no experience with how to use them. Could my kids make quick, sound decisions that would impact their ability to survive in an emergency? I'm not sure they could. This worries me. They're smart kids, but I have a feeling they would be cowered in a corner just waiting until somebody showed up to help them recharge their DS's.

I think as adults we should show some initiative and prepare our children for survival without all our modern conveniences -- not out of fear but out of concern for their safety. The more they know ahead of time, the easier it will be for them to make good decisions. I'm a planner, but I've never thought about planning for this or helping my kids plan for an emergency in a real, concrete way. Perhaps it's time. Kids should know basic survival skills and how to help each other not be afraid so that everyone can create the happily ever after.

Expose Yourself to Art

For our last big trip of Spring Break, the family headed out of the Burrow and went to Los Angeles so we could take in the Renoir and American Stories exhibits at LACMA. After the amazingly long drive (traffic was well, you know), we arrived and prepared to meet the Masters, as it were. The kids were really good, but they got a bit restless after seeing that there were only rooms of paintings in our first exhibit. But who can really blame them? After seeing Copley's Watson and the Shark there is little that can be that exciting! The hub and I would have loved to meander slowly and see the brilliant way the museum set out the exhibit, but we understood that little ones (even little 11-year-olds) need to experience art at their own pace and develop an appreciation. Also, they were hungry. What's a mom to do? Feed 'em.

So we lunched and found the sculpture garden where everyone perked up, and pictures were taken and art was squealed at. Gavin, especially, wanted his picture taken with every sculpture, which wound up being funny and a tad annoying. We also walked around the La Brea Tar Pits, which is right next door. This was both interesting and smelly, and the kids were fascinated and saddened by the poor ancient animals' fates.

We completed our tour with a journey through the Renoir exhibit, which was absolutely wonderful. Renoir's paintings (yes, lots more paintings) are incredible, and it was a bit humbling to see these great works that we may never have the chance to see again (a fact I kept reminding the kids about). All was great until the room full of nudes, which brought all kinds of reactions.

Mine: "Aw crap. This could be bad."

The Hub: Much study and gazing is needed in this section.

Grace: "Mom, don't you find this a bit disturbing?"

Sean: "Mom . . . ." (I cut him off before he could even ask in his much-too-loud-for-indoors-voice and explained about nudes and artists and drawing the human form, etc. which might have been more information than he needed, but he seemed content after my explanation.)

Gavin: Let's just say, the Maillol sculpture Action in Chains truly touched him -- or was it the other way around? My son just could not keep himself from poking the belly button of this nude female form. It could have been so much worse, I know (think "Tune In Tokyo"), but I was still mortified, and we rushed from the room of nudes into, well, another room of nudes. Oh, that Renoir . . .

After contemplating a painting titled Large Bather and realizing that the large bather Renoir painted was indeed smaller than myself, we marched out in disgust (okay, that was just me) and up to the third floor where there is a nice permanent Warhol exhibit. Along with the other crazy pop art and modern sculptures, the Warhols were a huge hit with the kids. Add to that the fact that all fingers and other body parts stayed away from the tempting art and you can say that this was the kids' and our favorite place. Gavin and Sean even tried to mimic the dance steps featured in one of Warhol's paintings, which was really cute.

It was a wonderful day and a good chance to talk about the art and the artists the boys and I have studied these past few months. It was gratifying to hear them discuss Homer and Matisse and recognize a Cassatt painting from one of their books. We even had a cute moment at the end where we all sat in chairs and looked at a series of prints by an unknown-to-us artist. I asked each child which painting was his/her favorite and why. The answers varied, and the reasons covered everything from deep thought to surface impressions, but that was okay. I assured them that all their answers were correct because with art all things are possible and nothing is ever wrong.

Happy Birthday, Michelle!

Happy, happy birthday to our favorite piano teacher in the world! She is awesome and makes learning about music interesting and engaging. We are lucky to have her in our lives. And, she is such a great friend -- so much fun and always up for laughs and craziness. She's also one of the wisest, most beautiful and kindest people I know. Happy birthday, my friend. May you have a wonderful and special day.

Happy Birthday, Aunt Julie!

I realized today that we have known Julie for more than 15 years. Astounding! Our families have had so many fun times together. Happy Birthday to our wonderful, lovely, inspirational, amazing, creative, and joyful friend. We are so blessed to have you in our lives.

Wait, How Did You Take Those Pictures?

Do you see these pictures I took at the Mission and at Farrell's? You might think I'm magic. Well, I am, but that's not the point right now. Right now I'm hear to rejoice about my new camera, given to me by my mother-in-law, who happened to have an extra one lying around her house (what's that about?) and who took pity on my tale of woe (if I could link to the post where I whine about my cameras' deaths, I would here). My new little camera is red, does lots of things I cannot comment on because I have no technical expertise whatsoever other than to know that the functions are cool and the camera is nifty. I'm just so happy I have a camera so that I can record all these moments for posterity (as long as no one records my posterior I'm good -- especially after Farrell's.)

Mission Accomplished

We decided to leave the burrow today. That's right; we all left for a trip, except for poor Henry. Dad and the kids have the week off, so it seemed like a good time to do something educational and fun and hopefully something not too expensive (not going to happen). We opted for a visit to the San Juan Capistrano Mission to soak ourselves in some California history. Grace and I had been there before on her class field trip, but we wanted to go back, and we knew the others would enjoy seeing the grounds and learning about life at the mission. Our goal for the day: Mission, tacos, petting zoo, Farrell's Ice Cream and then home.

The Mission was a huge hit. The audio tour was great. Each kid took turns listening to certain parts on the headset, and the hub walked through many areas uninterrupted while Sean was using the restroom (for some reason, this took a really, really long time. Don't ask.). Each child left with an archery practice set, and Grace got the book she had been wanting on ghosts of the mission. It was such a lovely time.

The petting zoo, on the other hand, was a bit crazy. There were lots of people there, and the cost was a little high for the five of us plus vegetable trays for the animals. The goats were VERY happy to see us and almost knocked Sean over trying to get his carrot tray. The llamas were cool with strange, almost googly eyes, as were the baby bunnies and guinea pigs. Our kids really don't get to pet things other than Henry, so this was fun for everyone. (Just so you know, emus like carrots, but they have really sharp beaks, and cows eat lettuce. Who knew?)

Farrell's Ice Cream Parlor was exactly how I remembered it: loud and fun and tasty. I probably didn't need the banana split, but it was really yummy.

All in all it was good to be out and enjoy the hot, sunny weather. We had no time frame (other than to get back for the wookie dog), and we were content to look at the sky or watch people hurrying to their destinations. It was a relaxing, lazy day with fun things to do and see and learn about.

If only there were pictures . . .

I am without a camera. My latest one bailed on me last Sunday night. This is the second camera to die on me in the past six months. So, needless to say my postings will be bereft of visual confirmations until I can purchase a new camera. And this was the week to have a camera on hand. Some things that will not be shot for posterity (that really is a leading sentence . . . ):

1. My boys fully engulfed in their maps of the San Diego Wild Animal Park and not watching the path, other people, their own feet, and so forth.

2. The tiniest elephant in the world -- seriously, I thought it was a toy. With the proper zoom lens, this would have been the cutest picture EVER! Baby elephant, born on Valentine's Day, walking with his mom at the Wild Animal Park. I could just cry.

3. My boys cuddling their stuffed lion cub (Sean) and meerkat (Gavin) as we exited the park. Sean named his "Cuddles," and Gavin named his "Aurora." (Gavin always names his stuffed animals after girls. Not sure why. A little afraid to ask. )

4. My daughter and the hub getting ready for their first snowboarding experience! Gloves, hats, bibs, snow jackets, boots -- the works! They looked fabulous and so excited.

5. My daughter and the hub lying prone on the couch after their first snowboarding trip, still happy but exhausted.

6. My daughter and the hub limping and groaning the day after their first snowboarding trip, not quite as happy but talking about going again.

7. Crane Fly Land -- Lately, our home has been swarming with these prehistoric bugs. They are loud and seem drunk because they cannot fly straight at all. There are so many of them on the wall; they look like art.

8. Henry eating the crane flies that the hub swats. (Actually that would be a pretty gross picture, so I'm kinda glad I didn't pursue that one.)

9. Grace's open house. This will be her last year at this school, and I have no picture of her classroom or teacher or desk, etc. Will be stalking later.

10. Henry grabbing the ShamWow and running all over the backyard while we're trying to dye eggs. That dog is fast! Would have been much easier to get a new towel, but I was invested at that point. Grace finally succeeded after employing bribing and trickery. Good girl.

11. Mosher Dance Party time -- There's something about The Black Eyed Peas . . .

12. Our backyard and how nice it looks when Jose has been here.

13. Kellen, our sweet little niece, running after Henry in the backyard saying, "Me too! Me too!" because it's fun to run around like the crazy dog.

14. Sean playing (and totally obsessed) with Uncle Mike's iPhone.

15. The cool Easter baskets and presents the Easter Bunny brought. That Easter Bunny is pretty clever. . . .

Happy Easter to all. Celebrate life and redemption and freedom. May your day be joyful and your camera at the ready . . .