A Fly On My Homeschool Wall

The teens and I had a very productive school week.  History, The Scarlet Letter , and their research papers were the school we shared together.  On their own, I saw them spend hours each on science, math, languages, and elective subjects. One of my favorite moments with them was when Nature Angel needed to blow off some steam concerning her health text .  Neither of her older sisters who used the book ever talked about the attitude the author has about modesty.    We use the book because of the Christian perspective toward respecting our bodies, but I have not ever read the text on my own.  Nature Angel pointed out that the book puts sexual purity completely on young women.  It's all a young woman's fault for dressing provocatively if a young man behaves in a sexually inappropriate way. I was mad, too. The three of us talked it all out.  Our conversation meandered up and down and side to side as we explored the ins and outs of taking respectful care of our bodies and how badly

 The time change alone might not have knocked us out as badly as it did if we hadn't been so sick the week before. 10 convalescing kids + time change = survival mode These are the seasons that make me question homeschooling . . . even after 20+ years. Monday I adjusted our morning meeting to allow everyone to sleep a little later, and I did history with the teens. We tried to read The Scarlet Letter , but kids' behaviors were too hard, and I spent several hours dealing with those.  I also was caught in several unsatisfying phone calls trying to communicate with the psychiatrist, our case manager, the pharmacy, and our pharmacy insurance. At one point I crossed the kitchen and noticed this sweet party happening. I stopped to appreciate the moment in an otherwise very difficult day. Tuesday Still adjusting to the dark mornings. Last week I gave Mister Man permission to request some books from the library.  His siblings caught wind of what he was up to, and he requested several do

 The illness started Saturday night. By Sunday morning, a couple of kids were down. By Monday afternoon, all 8 of my kids were lethargic and feverish. By Thursday morning, our daycare kidlets had it, too, so that made 10. We never saw a doctor or took a test, so it could be any of a number of viruses. But we did self-quarantine. Our whole week looked like this: Ladybug read aloud for over two hours on Monday morning.  Then she developed symptoms later on. One day was completely devoted to Star Wars cartoons.  Another couple of days included documentaries.  One day we watched The Secret of NIMH and compared it to Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH . When Mister Man felt a bit better, he read aloud to the sickest ones. Brother doesn't admit to feeling sick.  But he was running a 102.5° fever while he did this math lesson. Nature Angel did so much "for fun" reading.  This book reduced her to tears as she read it and then again as she told the story to Little Princess. Then ki

 I'm sitting in my nightgown on the couch looking at two needy kids.   Beowulf, lying in the oversized armchair, doesn't feel well.  He's got no appetite; he's lethargic; he says his head hurts and that he's dizzy. The last two are actually less concerning than the first two for this endlessly hungry, endlessly energetic boy of mine. He's got no fever, but he says he's cold. And he just looks . . . ill. Mister Man lies stretched out on the couch with his foot propped up.   It might be broken. He certainly can't walk on it. It's just about 24 hours since he fell off the fallen tree in our backyard.  We thought it was just scrapes and bruises and treated his injuries accordingly.  Since then, he's been achy, throbby, sore, and swollen.  We've used ibuprofen, ice, and elevation, but he hasn't improved. We found an orthopedic urgent care that opens in an hour and a half or so.  Sir Walter Scott will take him there. I will stay home with Beowu