In which our heroine schedules her son's autumn schooling

As I mentioned previously, my copy of Five in a Row (Volume 1) arrived a couple of weeks ago, and I'm trying to plot out a course for Moose's first season of schooling.  It's turning out to be both simpler and more difficult than I'd anticipated.  For those who aren't familiar with Five in a Row (FIAR), the premise is that you read the same book aloud with your child every day for a week, focusing on a different aspect of the book each time.  Lessons might involve social studies, language arts, art, applied math, or science.  Because Moose is so young, I'm picking some of the simpler suggestions for each topic, and we aren't supplementing with a more rigorous math or phonics program like parents of older students would.  The suggested age range is 4-8 years, and Moose won't be 4 until a month after we begin, but Before Five in a Row, the book recommended for children ages 2-4, seemed too simplistic.

Fortunately, Moose loves to read.  And by "loves," I mean begs to be read to frequently throughout the day.  He's by no means an inactive child; he would probably spend his a third of his day reading, a third playing with his toy trains, and a third running around outside if he were given a choice.  Actually, throw in an extra third for singing and playing music, dancing, making Sprite laugh, helping me cook and fold laundry, and coloring.  By "active," I guess I mean that he crams more activity into any given 24 hours than is technically possible.  But like I said, he loves to read, so choosing a literature-based program is likely to work well for us.  I like that it's one that we can fit easily into our days; I'm assigning us only one or at most two tasks per day.  He needs time to play and be a small child, and I need time to care for Sprite and, provided we follow through with our plans, a foster child sometime later in the year.

However, FIAR is such that it's almost not school.  That's great!  I mean, it's exactly what I think he needs at this stage in his life.  However, Moose wants to "do school," and to him, that means sitting down at a table with a pencil and doing his "work."  To that end, I've ordered Rod and Staff's ABC series, and I'm looking forward to its arrival.  As with my used copy of Five in a Row, if we end up not liking them, we haven't lost much money by trying.  The Rod and Staff books are only $3.25 each, and they came strongly recommended.  I figure we'll work our way through them at whatever pace seems enjoyable.

At some point, I'd like to post my proposed schedule through Christmas, but I still have a few books to plan out.  I'd like to slowly add in Bible verse memorization and a few other things over the course of the year, working our way toward Charlotte Mason's list of attainments for a child of 6 (link to an excellent page at Ambleside Online).  In my own scheming way, I have a plan, but my larger plan is to chill out and enjoy my child.  He's learned so much already without any sort of school, and I have little doubt but that he'll continue to do so.

In which our heroine thinks about organization

My Five in a Row, Volume 1 book has arrived!  I'm thrilled and looking forward to gathering up our resources for the fall.  We might also end up putting together a unit for Blueberries for Sal, in part because there are so many great activities that can be done in connection with the book and in part because it's just too great of a book to miss.  A friend's wild blueberries will be getting ripe soon, so I need to get moving.

In the meantime, I'm trying to figure out how to set up our school area.  We have a relatively small house and no spare room for a dedicated school area, so we'll almost certainly end up working at the kitchen table.  It seems like our lives revolve around the kitchen table, so this comes as no surprise.  I'd like to approach education as an integral part of life rather than something to be sequestered away during certain hours in a certain room.  Because of that, I want the physical evidence of our learning to be out in the open, part of our everyday life, and so it can't be an eyesore in our very open floor plan.

I'd like to put together some sort of a wall unit, along the lines of the command center at the Caldwell Project, to serve as both a holding and organizing area for all of the bits and pieces and papers that end up stacked on the table and as our school.  Originally, I was thinking of a bulletin board or (if it weren't so ridiculously expensive) the Thirty-One Hang-up Home Organizer, but I think the wood unit would look far nicer.  For now, it would probably end up with favorite bits of artwork, the activities for whatever book we're reading, and other things of that sort, but eventually, I'd like to have whatever poems, hymns, Bible verses, and so on that we're memorizing hanging up, as well as one picture at a time from whichever artist we're studying.  We're taking it very slow and won't need those spots for a while, but they'll be good to have in the long run.

I will say that taking it slow is hard sometimes!  I know I could push Moose and succeed in teaching him various skills, but I'd rather let him have these first years as a time to learn and grow organically, without pressure.  Still, it's ever-so-tempting to teach him now, if only to impress others.  I've taken this quote from Charlotte Mason as encouragement to do so:  "In this time of extraordinary pressure, educational and social, perhaps a mother's first duty to her children is to secure for them a quiet growing time."

Well, maybe not quiet.  After all, he is three, and Sprite does have a good set of lungs that she likes to exercise regularly.  But gentle, that we can do.

In which our heroine plots and plans

I'm a planner.  I love to plot and scheme and consider all the possibilities related to some vague future possibilities.  The difficulty comes in making the final decisions, sorting through all those possibilities to come up with an actual plan.  It's come time in our homeschooling plans to do some finalizing.

I've dreamed of homeschooling my kids since Moose was just a baby and I was still working at the Rocket Factory.  Originally, I'd thought we'd be waiting until he was at least five to begin anything, but after hearing my nephew talk about kindergarten at Easter dinner, Moose insisted on beginning school right away.  There was no talking him out of it.  Unfortunately, "right away" was only about a month after Sprite was born, so we tried for a few weeks with a Letter of the Week program I cobbled together and then gave up.  At the moment, the plan is to begin again in September.

I love the concept of Charlotte Mason's method, and in the long run, we'll probably incorporate much of what she promoted.  I also like the classical method of studying the trivium.  Moose is only three right now and won't be four until October, so we have plenty of time to figure out what works for him.  We'll definitely be using lots of great literature and nature study, especially at this young age.  After all, those are two of the most important things in our lives even now, along with music and faith.

A copy of Five in a Row, Volume 1 is on its way to us right now, and our wonderful local library is able to get all of the related books for us to borrow.  I'm really hoping it works for us.  I think I have some great ideas, though I won't really know for sure until I get the book.  Even if it doesn't, at least I only spent $8 total, and I'm sure I can resell it for at least that much.  I'm looking at Sonlight as well, but we probably won't use that for another year or two.

Much as I love planning, actually choosing what curriculum to follow has been driving me crazy.  I'm sure it will only get worse as the years go by.  After all, this is really just play.  Educational play, but for a preschooler, what isn't educational?  In many ways, while I didn't really intend to start so young, I'm glad it worked out like this.  At least I'll have a couple years to get my feet wet before it's time to get serious.

My cup of tea

It's late.  I'm tired.  I really just want a cup of tea.

I could've written those words at many points in my life.  I survived my first semester of college by guzzling strong black tea while sitting in front of the computer.  My team at work spent many long nights tending to the reactor we were trying to get up and running, sometimes not going home until dawn.  Now...now I'm a mom.  Just a mom, no more and no less.  With motherhood comes lateness, and tiredness, and longings for cups of tea.

Motherhood has brought great happiness.  I've always loved children, loved their innocence and wonder and unfettered joy.  Obviously, I think my own kids--Moose, 3 1/2, and Sprite, 10 weeks--are the most wonderful of them all.  Being their mother is fulfilling in ways that it's hard to imagine of anything else requiring such sacrifice.

Motherhood has also brought resignation.  Humility.  Okay, make that a double dose of humility.  It's hard work that never pays a cent and often doesn't even earn you a drop of gratitude or a smile.  Part and parcel of that is sitting up in the kitchen at midnight, knowing that it's the only peace and quiet you'll get for the day, and knowing just as well that you really ought to be hanging the diapers to dry and folding a basket of laundry and heading off to bed.

Motherhood is about making choices.  A moment's quiet vs. a chore accomplished.  Spending time with your children vs. having a clean house.  Moose's needs vs. Sprite's needs.  My needs vs. my children's needs.  A cup of tea vs. some much-needed sleep.

In the end, it's the smallest of choices that end up making the difference.  As I listen to my son sleeping in the next room and watch my daughter laying quietly nearby, I try to remember that.  I will pick her up in a moment, snuggle her close as a feed her, and whisper my love to her even when I'm tired.  I will try to greet my son with a smile in the morning even if I wish he'd have stayed in bed a while longer.  They are what make this life worth it.  They are my world, and at this point, I am theirs.

That is what motherhood is.