Bubby

Well, through the last two weeks, I've had at least ten titles for the next post fly through my head. I thought about "Mater" as a dedication to the little tow truck from a good friend that has made homeschooling so much easier. It solved the little "problem" of Simon always having to be in the middle of everything. The littlest Stodolka doesn't miss a beat, and though he can't even sing his abc's yet, he wants to participate in school. At the suggestion of some well-experienced homeschooling friends, I let him. BUT.... my patience runs thin when he rips pages from the school books, eats the crayons or playdough during art, colors off the marker board and onto the table during phonics review etc.. I can only count to ten so many times in a day, ya know? God gave me relief when Mater arrived. Thank you to you know who. Mater has become Simon's phonics and art lesson combined. He drives that bugger through the house on the other side of the another possible post title that I considered, "The Baby Gate." That one is also still going on in the brain, so maybe God isn't finished with it yet. Another gift from another friend that makes homeschooling that much easier. It's a gate that used to be housed at Fun4Tots, a favorite family hangout, and sprawls across the wall from the living room to the dining room. I can watch Mater and "his" driver plow through the other room singing and bringing blocks from one side of the house to the other.  Not a bad view in the least. And, it's a great reminder to pay attention to the small details of life.... the little acts of joy that take place daily that we take for granted, and that will, sadly, one day be gone. I mean, Simon isn't going to college driving Mater back and forth from home with the tow truck backside filled with jumbo blocks. But.... thank you so much to those who made that view possible.... and the peace of mind I get when I can do phonics and reading with the lassie who's learning as my number one focus.

Bubby. That's the topic of this post. It's the one that suddenly came to me as I was joining Father Tim of Mitford as he prepared for a post-retirement stint in a church on an island ten or so hours from his beloved Mitford. (Yes, I highly recommend that wholesome series, which has also done wonders for this reader who has been neglecting her favorite past-time in lieu of the ever social world of Facebook. And my pull away from Facebook may just be another topic for discussion someday). Anyhow.... I looked up from the first chapter of the fifth book in the Mitford series to see Simon with one bubby in his mouth, stretching his little arm across the big table, grabbing another bubby and smiling ever so big as he became a double-fister. The bubby..... his paci.... called a bubby because I used to say "pluggie," and he is not yet of the age to make those sounds all come together. No need. His cute word for pluggie has taken over and he doesn't need to learn mine.  Another one of those slow motion moments and I knew that "Bubby" was the next title.

Why, you may say? What does a bubby have to do with homeschooling? Well, for most, it is probably just a lovely tool used to keep the littles quiet. But for me, God just used it as a reminder of who I was and who I'm becoming.... As a middle & high school teacher of ten years (yes, I'm that old), I am used to lesson plans. I'm used to making order from many sources and implementing that order for overall learning. It's what I did best and what I loved for ten years. I used to fascinate my "Team 8ers" and others who'd see I'd planned several months in advance and stayed on course within a day or two despite all odds. I suppose I could reveal that trick - review days. If you planned a review day once a week or at least twice a month depending on how difficult the material was, you could use it to review all info to aid in retention OR if there was a snow day etc., you could use the review day as a way to catch up, replacing it with another day of "regular" teaching.

Anyhow.... I'm teaching my eldest, who struggles significantly in Math, the topic of rounding. She gets it one day, and when I go to do the "warm up" the next day (so we can quickly review and move to the next topic), she is stumped - as if she's never seen rounding before. It's a problem that I've never really seen before in ten years of teaching. I've seen students either get it or not..... I've see students get it and forget things after time (how normal is that?), and that was the purpose of my planned review days back then. BUT.... I've never seen someone get it so clearly one day, do at least 15 problems on their own feeling confident, and then the next day look at one as if they've never seen the concept before.

The Bubby..... I've been reaching for "my bubby," my order in lesson planning. I'm used to staying on track, plowing through & reviewing, bringing my 100 or so kiddos along with me to the best of my ability. I'm used to falling on known territory and taking comfort in facing the struggles that go with 8th grade teens and their desire to be entertained while learning, their need to review, and their need to move on and conquer. I'm used to the order of planning such a curriculum.... to my bubby so to speak. But there is no bubby in this homeschooling experience. I cannot help my sweet Marygrace in the traditional methods that I am used to. They don't work for her. And now I'm free-falling again.... trusting God to bring me to a safety point again - where I know she's learning.... where I know she'll "get" all the third grade stuff she's supposed to.... where I won't damage her by making her feel insecure because she can't get it after she already has.

I'm trusting God. I've been chatting with my mom, a third grade teacher for 35 + years, and my homeschooling friends, and I'm learning..... to stretch, to be patient, to wait for the solution that is there.... to give my anxiety to the Lord in prayer and petition with Thanksgiving (Philippians 4: 6 and 7). Onward. We shall overcome. One day at a time. One lesson or review lesson at a time..... with some help from those whom God is putting in my path (educators, doctors, homeschoolers, family, etc).

Praise be to God for His help and guidance. And this 37 year old will try to set down her bubby.

Shiny new pots and pans

Everyone has had a moment in their life when they opened a box and there was a fresh, new and shiny set of pots and pans, right? One would think that, that was normal for a fairly newly married woman. I mean, though I courted (yes, courted.... different than dated) Andy for six and a half years, I've only been a Mrs for ten (almost eleven) years. That's a fairly new marriage in my book. After all, my grandparents made it well passed their golden anniversary! Ok, I'll admit that the thought that I've almost been with Andy longer than the time I spent growing up not knowing him is mind-blowing! That just hit me... still, fairly newly married in comparison to others.  Back to my pots and pans. The ones I had were old. VERY old. I can't even tell you how old, as everyone of them was handed down to me from someone. Yep. This gal didn't think to put pots and pans on her registry when getting married. That should have been a clue to Andy that I had a lot of learning to do when it came to taking care of house and home. Or maybe it should have just been a sign that he has to do all the cooking. I kind of like the way that sounds a lot better. Anyhow....

My new pots and pans came courtesy of a friend and a thoughtful gift. When I used them today for the second time, I was struck with the irony of my journey for the last few years. We've been trying to work our way out of debt by EATING AT HOME. This is not an easy thing for me; I love the atmosphere of being out - the people watching, the hustle and bustle of various places, interacting with those working, and of course, I love the fact that I don't have to prepare the meal. With a few cooking lessons from my friends Elaine and Meg, a crockpot guide to cooking from my friend Heather, and a bunch of other helps along the way, I am getting better at preparing meals and eating at home. I've found I kind of like not having to shush kids or peruse through the diaper bag in search of something, anything, to make a kid who is about to explode, happy. That part is much easier. And, honestly, I can now say the food is better.... especially when my friend who lives with us makes it. :) But the irony is that the last few years as I've been learning to cook, I've used old pots. Now, I have shiny new ones.... ones that came to me smack-dab in the middle of another new phase of my life... and ones that were the means of communication from the Big Guy above to me, today.

I fried some ham for lunch. I love fried ham. It is so good. Heck... most food is good. Maybe I should say I love to eat. That's pretty accurate. I eat when I'm happy, and I eat when I'm sad. I eat when I'm stressed and when nothing bothers me at all. After frying up and enjoying my lovely meal, I let my shiny pans cool down a little and then put water in them to soak. Those pans need a little TLC to be shiny again.

SO do we.

That's it. That's what came to me. The more I thought about it, the more I easily applied it to homeschooling. So, here's what some of you were waiting (and probably expecting to hear). I had a rough day in the homeschooling atmosphere today. The kids were loud, the concepts required an intensity of high proportions as I worked on ways to help my gal understand, Simon wanted to be with us and held the whole day.... the family peace was challenged for sure. We took a break.... a few hours break.... a needed break. And then hit the books again, finishing what was on the agenda for the day. We are a lot like shiny pots and pans, aren't we? Sometimes we need to soak up whatever it is in life that helps us relax (for me, a good book, a cup of coffee or a little HGTV) so that we can get ourselves cleaned up and looking good again. And I don't mean the kind of looking good that one would expect on a date night. I mean the kind of looking good that belongs to the heart atmosphere....Shiny and radiant with love. We need to shine and bring love to others, but many times, like the pots and pans that must sit for a bit, our shine returns when we break for a bit from the routine and take care of ourselves.

Before I close, I thought I'd share with you Marygrace's journal entry for today. No, this is not her diary; it is her journal that I use to practice writing skills for now. The prompt for her was: "What I like most about school this year is....."

Her reply "that I get a break when I ask. And I get to see Daddy when he comes home. [For Lunch] And I get my mommy time."

Interesting. She needs breaks too. That's because she's my shiny, biggest of the bunch of "little" pots. She knows she needs a break to do well. And, it's quite rewarding that she appreciates Daddy being there for lunch and her Mommy time. She scored points for that too.  :)

The Soccer Coach

Two weeks down.... about 36 to go. That doesn't sound daunting in the least, eh? Not. It is daunting and even somewhat terrifying if I start to focus on it. Just thinking about the number of mathematics or language arts lessons, or science or social studies.... or worse, the number of fights and refusals to cooperate or the number of times that Simon decides to try to participate and scribbles all over the table (or eat the playdough or tear the workbooks). All the frustration and work.... for one who can tend to be lazy, that is DAUNTING; however,  I'm coming to really understand what my long-time confessor, Father Albert Joseph Mary Shamon, meant when he used to say to me (and quite frequently) "the penalty for treading on God's territory, known to you as the future, is anxiety, you monkey." I always loved the "you monkey" part, as it broke up the seriousness of what he was saying so as to let me know he understood the struggle, but that he also knew I needed to get by it and stop looking ahead so much. How interesting. How ironic.... go figure. The great words of Father Shamon still live and ring deep truth for me. God's territory is the future. I need not think about all the trials of homeschooling that I will encounter this week, this month, this year or ever. If I do, guess what? The anxiety bell rings.

This weekend, the top 75%, that is my three older children, started their Fall soccer program. They were all excited, looking forward to the game, new shin guards, seeing their friends, the concession stands, snacks, pictures - you name it, and they were excited for it. I love watching them play soccer. I've never played myself, so I don't fully understand the game. I've discovered that the league eases kids into the "real" soccer game by increasing field size, adding goalies, using throw ins or allowing cleats as the kids get older. Marygrace and Clara played on different teams at 1pm. Clara was her usual soccer-star self. My little athlete. Marygrace ran and ran and cautiously went after the ball, starting to break free from her self-imposed timidity. When their games were over, we brought Stephen over to his team; coach Scott has led him for two seasons now. As the "purple team" warmed up, I noticed that Scott had no helper this season, and after a quick exchange, I became the assistant soccer coach. I was certainly nervous at first. I didn't want to make a fool of myself or say the wrong thing. I listened and mimicked Scott's advice during the first quarter. By the second quarter, I was fairly comfortable with when they were going to throw it in and where my team needed to be for the throw ins. In a short time, I learned quickly. Having never been a soccer coach, I realized that I could do it.

Funny thing..... as a little purple player, Brandon, ran toward the goal, everything went into slow motion for me. His foot stepped back, moved in a pointed arc forward towards the ball.... slammed it.... sent it through the air and into the net... JUST as I thought, I can do this coaching thing..... and God said "and you can do the homeschool thing too." Of course, it wasn't loud words that everyone could hear. It was a communication to me. A fitting one at that. Ok, God.... I will listen to Father Shamon and really focus on taking the present, that I have control over, one day, one task at a time.... and You can take care of the future. Thanks for that deal. :)

The bike and the stuffed dog

Since the end of August, the texts and emails about homeschooling have flooded in. "Are you ready?" "Do you regret your choice?"  "Did you start?" "How was your first day?" "What do you do with all four at home at the same time?" Well, honestly, things are going much better than I thought they would. By the time the summer came to an end, I found myself actually looking forward to the first day. Funny, right? After discerning for years and fearing the tremendous responsibility of providing the "real" education that homeschooling requires, the anxiety from the enormity of it all has melted away.  I'm not sure where it went, and I sure as shootin' do not care. It's gone.

 I'm a reader. Someone who likes the figurative and speaks meaning in symbols. It's not surprising to me that one of my biggest revelations about homeschooling came two weeks ago when we were on a family bike ride. Daddy was in front with the Simon-mobile attached to his bike. The remaining order of bikers went like this: Clara, then Stephen, then Marygrace, and Mommy bringing up the rear. Being a minor control freak, this was a good place for me. In that spot, I both relinquished and took control, as I didn't get to choose our path or destination, but I did get to see all that happened and could make everyone stop at the sound of my holler.  Anyhow.... Marygrace was riding her princess bike with the basket on the front. Unbeknownst to me, she decided to put a stuffed dog into the basket and give him a ride as she coasted along. When I noticed the dog, I chuckled. What an innocent, nurturing thing for her to do. She had such great intentions. It didn't take long for the cackles on the back of my neck to rise in annoyance with the dog and the idea that he was coasting along with us, as every bump we went over, the dog fell out of the basket, Marygrace yelled "wait," I slammed on the breaks AND we fell further and further behind the rest of the family.  I patiently suggested she put the dog in the baby carrier with Simon; instead, she picked up the dog, put him back in her basket, said she would be more careful and got on to ride again.  Upon the fourth such dog dive, I nearly exploded in frustration, made Daddy stop and Marygrace gave her stuffed friend to Simon for the duration of the trip.  After just a few seconds, my frustration with Marygrace and her lovely dog disappeared into oblivion as she decided to take the suggestion and make the bike ride better for all.  A few pedals into the empty basket part of the bike ride, a message to me from God  popped into my head.... Though not a distinct voice or words, it was a realization that in my homeschooling journey, I was being like Marygrace with her stuffed dog. I was sticking to my ideas about how to best help the children succeed in school, trying new methods to solve difficulties each time a struggle surfaced at the elementary school. My frustration became greater as school became more difficult and testing brought the behavioral difficulties that had become the norm for our family. Figuratively, it was like God has been riding behind me with the better idea and putting up with the setbacks and frustrations that came as I tried to do things my way.  Now, as I sit in the middle of my first week of homeschooling, I think.... I think God is blessing me for taking the plunge despite my anxiety.

So, how is it going? It's early yet to give a detailed response to that question. But as I said, it is going much better than I thought it would. Thanks for asking. The strongest evidence of this is that I expected to hate homeschooling. I expected that I would be bored, feel trapped, not want to do the lessons, be confused about timing and who does what when.... BUT.... I don't hate it; I am not bored; I do not feel trapped; things are running fairly smoothly and.....drum roll.... best of all, I can see the learning unfold in front of my eyes. That isn't just a cliche. I saw the light go on as Clara used the phonics lesson of the day and blended sounds into words. I felt joy as the girls did science together and talked about the difference between science and applied science. I felt relief when Simon got sick and I was actually able to just shift the schedule around a bit, finishing a few subjects in the evening (which is when I would have been doing homework anyway). So.... so far, it's going ok. I've had more good moments than bad ones. I'm gearing up for the challenges that may present themselves.  But for now, I'm glad that I gave up the stuffed dog.

The moment of no return.....

My journey started many moons ago as I watched my cousins and friends take on the all-encompassing task of homeschooling their children. Silently, I admired them deeply. I yearned for their faith and trust in God so as to be able to do something so awesome, so big, so.... wholesome and good. I saw the living Beatitudes that their lives became as many condemned them for their very personal and selfless choice to school in the home. Their desire to follow God's Will birthed a protected innocence, an extended and carefree childhood and a beautiful relationship with Jesus under guidance from the Catholic Church; well, their choices brought about children full of life and love - each gratefully accepted and nurtured from the moment of conception.  Again and again I watched from afar as the people I so secretly admired had more children and repeated their own Fiat, not begrudging any soul the chance at living life to the fullest in the big and beautiful world that God created.   

I saw.... I wanted... But... it wasn't for me. I didn't have what it takes. Among other things, I have extreme anxiety, I don't know how to teach one how to read, sibling fighting really affects me, I have a small house, my patience is lacking and, well, I just can't do it. It's too big. It means too much. It's beyond my grasp. I could ruin their lives.

BUT. God led me to a place where I feel I have no choice. Wishing I could do it, and more than a little afraid that I would fail, I walked the road of discernment. It led me to the place that I finally accepted just a few weeks ago. It led me to the place of no return, to my hesitant yes. I could no longer watch my oldest struggle with the curriculum of the Common Core....with Singapore Math.... with spiral curricula that never gives her the time to master the basics. And we are talking about the basics. I fought the brave fight in school. I tried to get special ed services that are clearly needed for what I call "blank slate syndrome." But without getting too deeply into it, I was denied. The fight continues. I'm going for a separate evaluation and to an audiologist. But that will take awhile. There is something going on inside that head of my little gal's. Everyone who worked with her knows it, but she's caught in a cycle of waiting until we know more.  For three years I've heard "we'll observe her." And while I waited for them to do something with their observations, I was losing my good little girl to fits of tantrums filled with frustration. Disobedience became common place. She became a bully to both her siblings and I, and she made up sicknesses. It was partly my fault; in my drive to help her get it and succeed, I pushed too far. My friends told me we were spending too much time on extra work at home. They repeated the concept that no more than 20 minutes of homework a night should be needed for first and second grade. I should have focused on the glaring question earlier: How can a seven year old go to school all day and still do two to three hours of homework a night?  Instead, I kept pushing her, day after day, for three years. "You'll get it honey... you just have to work harder.... embrace the struggle...."

In mid-June this year, when my first-born lied and copycatted a severe breathing issue that sent my other daughter to the ER by ambulance only one day before, I knew. I knew deep down that she was snapping. Something had to be done. I had reached the point of no return.

Should I continue to fight the school? Yes. And I will. Outside doctors will tell me what's wrong. God will give me the answers and show me how she needs to learn. But in the meantime, I will do my best to give her a mastery curriculum that spends enough time on each subject before going to the next. I will not spiral, push her on when she's not ready, introduce too many concepts at once or test her into oblivion. I will lead her, and my other daughter as well, to the best of my ability, day by day to educational success.

I'm diving into the unknown.... a trust fall that is one of the scariest I've ever taken, and I'm counting on God to catch me.... and to walk with me.... to give me the patience and knowledge and wisdom that I need. I've never so totally trusted as I am right now. It is really scary. You know why? Truthfully, I'm not one of those that feels God all the time or one that can hear His gentle voice. I wish I was. I'm more like the Little Flower, St. Therese, who chose daily to keep believing despite all odds. It is a blind trust right now that I make. It is a trust born of desperation, one that came after all my other options were examined and not found to be what would work. I asked God to be clear on this, for His "little Sarah" is hard of hearing..... and one thing I can say is, there was clarity. Now I'm trying to submit. One day at a time.....

Please pray for me and support me on this journey. God Bless you all.