The Real Deal

I'm a homeschooler. I used to be one by necessity. Now I am one by choice.

Many of my friends are teachers (for real). They have real classrooms, don't get paid enough, and have way more students than they should. They have standards to achieve and powers to whom they answer. They do it with pride. They do it with joy. Sometimes they do it with tears.

In some ways more than others, homeschoolers are no different. I usually start petitioning for funding in May. I present to the "board"(my husband) the strengths and weaknesses of curricula compared to the needs of my students. I plan, I purchase, I plan some more. Sometimes with joy, sometimes with tears.

This is our fifth year of homeschool. This is my first year homeschooling in America. There are co-ops, field trips, classes, and everything I could possibly imagine. Some things seem necessary. Some things seem counter-productive.

Right after Labor Day, on social media, lots of people posted pics of their kids' first day of school. Truth be told, we started school on a rainy day early August. I won't lie. I feel a little bit left out. Nothing is stopping me from posting these, but it's not the same. Just as everyone begins their yearly routine, we drop everything and go on vacation. Every September.

The night before we begin school, I lay awake obsessing over whether I chose the right books, whether Number 3 will ever master cursive, whether Number 1 will be challenged in Math. I think about what we'll eat for lunch and how much time we won't have to waste on learning each others' names. I lay awake perfectly certain about choosing homeschool and alternately terrified.

Sometimes I need to be grounded from perusing catalogs or looking through science books. Sometimes I need to be told to walk away from the work. Sometimes I need to skip grammar. No, that's not true. We never skip grammar. Maybe math.

All this to say that teachers are the best. Those who work in schools, those who volunteer, and those who teach their own kids. I'd like to raise my glass to toast teachers. To all my teacher-friends out there, you are the best! And that's for real.



With my "class" in St. Ignace, Michigan just before heading to Mackinac Island. September 12, 2014

Shame on you, Library

I hope I've been clear about how much I love the public library. Until recently.

Summer reading program. For this girl, who was never athletic, summer reading was my opportunity to shine. I could outread all my peers, win the prizes, and submit my name for drawings repeatedly. I couldn't wait to pass on this time-honored tradition to my kids.

Numbers 3 and 4 had to read 600 minutes (in increments of 10) in order to win a "prize" and be entered in a drawing. They both completed the task in three weeks, six weeks earlier than the deadline. Here they are with their filled-in sheets.



We rode our bikes to the library and walked up to the counter as a family. We wanted the children involved to feel the gravity of their achievement. The passionless volunteer cut off the entry portion and pointed to a box. The contents in the box were remnants of a local school book donation. There was nothing classic, nothing interesting, and frankly, nothing worth reading.

But the bigger point...a crummy, thrift-store book as a library reading program prize? My amazing readers were beyond disappointed. Number 3 said, "We get better prizes at the dentist, and that's for the pain we have to go through." I looked at my husband with horror. If we didn't get this kid a prize, and I mean a prize, she would probably never pick up a book again. Our school curriculum is only about 90% reading so this could be a problem later.

Dejected, we walked down the street to a little toy shop. It's the kind where the owner works the counter and knows about every toy in the place. It's a shop for brain candy. We told the girls they could each choose something for under $10 as a prize for all the reading they did. Number 4 chose a reusable sticker doll book. Number 3 chose a Magic 8 Ball. I'm not sure why that fits into the learning toys, but she's wanted one forever and the guidelines were clear. I immediately asked the ball if Number 3 would read books again. It said simply "It is certain." We bought it.

A few weeks later, we returned to the library to turn in Number 1 and 2's reading logs, four novels each. Here's how the librarian reacted;

"Wow! Great work!"
"Do we get a prize?" asked Number 2.
"Unfortunately, the prizes were returned due to a safety issue. Check back next week."

Since Number 2 had seen the drill earlier, he requested a specific toy at Target that was exactly $9.99. We went, bought the toy, and went home. Number 1 simply asked for $10 to be transferred to her bank account. Wise child.

So, to sum it up, the FREE reading program at the Library this summer cost me $40, an uphill battle for book-reading motivation, and maybe future counseling. Shame.

First of Many

A wise friend passed on some marital wisdom to me. I will share the basic gist with you.

One person has to be in charge during an outing. If it's his idea, he can plan meals, prepare for tickets, make arrangements etc. If it's her idea, she charts the map, packs the sandwiches, etc. If it goes wrong, you know who is responsible. If it goes right, you know who to thank.

This has worked so well for myself and my husband! I used to hate outings because he always had the good ideas and I was the pack mule and logistics planner. It wasn't fun. I already spend all of my days teaching the kids and then trying to navigate weekend "field-trips" became exhausting.

This past Friday night, we looked at the forecast and saw another sunny Saturday ahead with no plans. He started looking around and came up with a plan. We told the kids to be ready at 10 AM the next morning. I had the responsibility of getting myself dressed, applying sunscreen, and grabbing the bug spray (because he NEVER gets bit). Well before departure, my delightful travel agent had already been to the supermarket for Saturday doughnuts, had packed lunch and snacks, and got the address to our location in the GPS.

There was no arguing, no disputes.

Our destination was Rock Creek Park in the heart of the District. We parked at the Nature Center to begin a two mile hike around the northern half. Some of our company was not excited about hiking for fun, but we set out anyway, determined to prove them wrong. A little ways in, we stopped for lunch on a rocky landing in the middle of the creek. Number 2 was in heaven skipping from rock to rock and teetering dangerously on a fallen log seven feet above the creek!



Number 1, being cautious as ever, fell in anyway and got soaked up to her middle. Numbers 3 and 4 couldn't be convinced to keep moving. They took their sweet time looking at tadpoles, frogs, and arranging rocks in a decorative way. The lunches my husband packed were delicious and filling.



When we continued on, we enjoyed the company of one another amidst the sound of the babbling creek. The boys' heads were sweating and we were all smiling from the exertion.

When we got back to our car, we drove to the South Side of the Park (this took 10 minutes) to see the Peirce Mill. It looked unpromising until we got nearer to the entrance. A volunteer helped my girls make corn-husk dolls while my son played in toy water locks. This cost us nothing.

After this, we watched a video about the family who owned the Mill (back in the late 1800s) and got to see the mill in action. My husband, who grew up working his Grandfather's farm, reveled in showing the kids all the gears and mechanisms of this primitive tool. At the end of the tour, we discovered that Rock Creek Park is a National Park, the first we've ever enjoyed as a family. We purchased a National Park Passport and can't wait to see some more.

Party in the USA

Last year we celebrated the nation's independence in Moscow on the green grass of the Embassy lawn. We organized our own celebratory breakfast, flag salute, parade, pie baking contest, water balloon launch, and general patriotism. It was my most favorite July 4th ever. It was spent with some of my favorite people and I had the winning pie, so that made it good. It is rumored that in the football game, my husband threw and his friend caught the winning touchdown against the Marines, but that's just heresay, no one can confirm.

This year, we played tourists in our new town, so we went to the parade. Many years ago, my little brother marched with his high school band on these very streets. We watched for an hour (eight bands later) and the kids were pretty bored. After seeing real-live tanks roll down the road at the Victory Day parades, it was a little lackluster. Plus, there was no candy? When did that happen? How long have I been away?

Number 2 with his esteemed Marines.


We went back home for the afternoon where we grilled hamburgers and hot dogs. There was homemade apple pie, but it wasn't the same. No Marines, no water balloons. How can a holiday feel more patriotic in a different country?

That evening, we headed out again to secure a spot near the Iwo Jima memorial. Clearly, it was a good pick because most of the newspapers photos were taken from the same spot. Here's one my husband took. It was beautiful over the monuments. Some of our favorite fireworks were smiley faces, stars, and the ones that looked like they were spinning.

We made it back home, washed our feet, and called it a day. But it felt like any day.

Help me Understand

If this is you, I don't mean you. I'm mostly referring to my shock at American culture.

When I lived out in the country in suburban Michigan, many moons ago, I got showered and dressed for the day because I thought it was a good idea. I could parade around in my sweatpants (lovingly called the home uniform) but I chose to be presentable most of the time, should anyone unexpectedly knock on my door.

This served well when I moved to Russia. There were always tradesmen in and out of the house, neighbors dropping by, new people in the neighborhood. Being dressed worked well. With one exception; if I was waiting on a certain service to be completed (such as toilet plunged, dishwasher fixed AGAIN, etc) and I found that it was being delayed, without fail, if I stayed in my pjs, it was then that the doorbell would ring. Every. Time. Magic.

In Moscow, the question about my attire was, "heels or no heels?" Most Russians are dressed to the nines at all times. Granted they may have worn that outfit three days in a row, but they look nice. Of course, accessories like fancy coats, earrings, scarves, and purses help. I tossed tennis shoes out the first year I was there. And flip-flops. Too casual. I adopted stilettos and calf boots. When I would visit back home, I was almost always overdressed. Habit I guess.

Now I live in America again. The land of the free. Free to shop and get the lowest price. Free to drive like a lunatic. Free to chew gum as loudly as possible when on the bus. Let me get to the point.

Free to wear sweatpants outside? Free to wear athletic clothes at all times?

Every day, I wake up at 5:30am. I make coffee and get myself going. By 6:00, I am working out. I'm talking about the kind of workout where sweat gathers in places that makes body parts squeak. The kind where I secretly turn the air down to 70 just for a few minutes so I don't hyperventilate. Let me tell you. There is nothing that could keep me in those clothes all day long. I immediately shower, apply make-up, and dress. By 7:30, my kids are just beginning to stir. We begin school at 8:00.

I know I live in an athletic town. Seriously, I've felt like I should lie and say I run, just to get into a couple of conversations. But I didn't. I don't run. My chiropractor once told me that I don't have a curve in my neck so my spine is like a broomstick and my head is like a bowling ball atop it. Pounding bowling ball causes stress to the broomstick. Poetic, isn't it? No running for this lady.

I've always wanted to run. I just can't. I like runners. I wish I was one. But I'm not. Anyone who ran track with me in high school will validate these statements. I was on the track team, but I wasn't a runner.

So, this message is really a cry for help. Help me understand. Why the sweatpants? Why the athletic clothes?

Our grandmothers wore pearls, stockings, and blouses. Our mothers donned bell bottoms and t-shirts. If we are the generation who wears athletic clothes and sweatpants, what will our kids wear?

Number 2 wearing "United States of Awesome" and gym shorts. Yes, gymshorts.

City Folks in the Country

Memorial Day weekend, we headed out of the city and down to the Virginia/North Carolina border. As we drove south on 95, we could see that all those from DC were getting out while the tourists flocked in on the northbound side. No, thank you. After some meandering on a lesser known highway, we arrived at our friends' house to enjoy a long, rustic weekend.

These friends were neighbors in Moscow. We love spending time with them because we don't have to apologize for using expressions in Russian, our kids have many shared memories, and we just plain like them. Plus, I usually beat everyone at Catan. Hey, it's my blog, I can write it the way I remember it.

My husband grew up on his grandparents' lake. He knows how to fish, hunt, and do most anything with his hands. I was amazed at how quickly everything came back. He sat relaxed in a chair for hours on the dock. Though he travels the world by plane, he was so happy to take a road trip and get away. I haven't seen him that rested in awhile.

The very first day, the kids found a log in the lake. They played on it for hours and then were surprised at the red marks on their bellies. Who needs toys when you've got a log?

For the first night, our friend made a feast complete with borscht (Russian beet soup), khachapuri (Georgian cheese bread), and shashlik (meat skewers). The next day we had blini (crepe/pancakes) for lunch. It felt like home again. I made the all American dinner that night which included fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and apple pie.

Each day, we spent most of our time on the dock watching the kids, holding the new baby, and laughing about old times. One morning I was surprised to find the place next to me on the air mattress was empty. My husband was out the door before sunrise to try his hand at fishing for catfish, as he heard it was plentiful down this way. In a few hours, he and the kids had racked up a bunch using this nasty bait that smelled like sewage. He also discovered that catfish whiskers will whip you when trying to get the hook out.

During the day, my girlfriend and I took the younger kids strawberry picking in North Carolina. It took only a little while to pick 20lbs each! Since I hadn't picked in years, the strawberries tasted all the sweeter.

We grew up in the country. For the time being, we didn't know what we were missing. Namely, concerts, museums, architecture etc. Ignorance truly was bliss. Now our kids live in a somewhere-in-between. We want them to be acquainted with nature and it's joys, but also know how to analyze a painting or remain unfazed when people are nude at the beach (true story). We want both. I don't know how it will end up, but for now, getaways to the country will suffice.

It was time to go home again, back to the city where I can get all kinds of specialty foods, meet interesting people, and don't have to check for ticks daily. However, it was good to get away and remember the simple things in life. For selfish reasons, we hope our friends never leave that place. They've made a vacation spot for us and we are so happy to drive a few hours to see them. At one point, their son expressed that it "felt like a dream" to have his faraway friends close again.

When we got home, my husband cooked up the catfish and I made strawberry jam. Both things were delicious reminders of our time away.

100th Post!! (Reasons I Love Homeschool)

Since this is my 100th post (Wahoo!) I thought I should write about something really life-changing. Although getting married at 19, having four kids in four years, and moving to Russia were all incredible, nothing has impacted my life like home education. I would like to share with you today some of the reasons I love homeschool.

#1 Field trips whenever we want. We avoid the busy crowds and go off-season, Tuesday mornings, and never have to fight to see the exhibit. A few weeks ago our field trip was to Camden Yards to see the Detroit Tigers play the Orioles. Ironically it was "Field Trip Day" at the park and there were kids everywhere. Last week, the Tigers played in Cleveland and we watched the game on TV right after lunch. A little motivation to get done early always helps.

#2 We skip the stuff we know and move on to stuff we don't. This year, we avoided lots of the reading parts of the Science books. We went right on to the experiments. Yesterday the kids saw water snakes in the creek and studied them. They choose to watch documentaries in their free time. We got our standardized test scores back last week and they were all well above average in the Science department. Whatever we're doing, it's obviously working.

#3 Deep conversations at random times. Last week the kids got into a lively conversation with my husband about the Flat Earth Society. They discussed Columbus, astronauts' view from the moon, and other valid points. I sat back and observed. No one was out to prove anything, but they were able to use critical thinking to determine what they believe. A week later, they're still asking about it. This holds true for their faith as well. We expect them to know why they believe what they do, not just spoon feed it and make robots.

#4 Philosophy and Religion. This brings me to my next point. We discuss philosophy and religion all day long. We covered brief overviews of Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, Native American religions, and many others. I want them to know what's out there and learn to make friends with people of all faiths. I acknowledge that homeschool allows me to present to them the Gospel of Jesus Christ on a regular basis and its effects on our family.

#5 Reading aloud This school year our family read 38 novels aloud as well as an Encyclopedia, history books, and the Bible. I don't lay in bed wishing I had read to the kids more. It just happens naturally, all day long. We read history, biographies, historical fiction, regular fiction. We read it. I know my kids know the sound of my voice. When I'm gone, maybe they'll remember this sacred time.

You may be thinking at this point, "Yeah, but these are all benefits to the kids. How has it impacted you?"

Well let me tell you.

#6 I have learned more history this year than all of my previous education combined. Because we are studying Ancient and American history, I learned so much about things I never read before. Today we learned about Nikita Krustchev. I visited his grave site last year in Moscow but I didn't know who he was. I do now. and my kids know. We read an entire Encyclopedia on American History. When would I choose to do that in my leisure time?

#7 Instant gratification. Last week there was a situation where I was explaining the conquests of Alexander the Great. My third grader said, "It's kind of like Putin. He has the biggest country in the world, but he wants that little tiny bit (Crimea). I guess things haven't changed." I get to be front and center when the kids "get it". I go to sleep at night knowing they learned something today and that I taught them. It may be an unpaid job, but on days like that, it feels like I got a raise.

#7 Flexible schedule. We always complete 180 days (36 weeks of school). The way we do it is entirely up to me. Sometimes we're feeling aggressive and we work through two weeks of material in one week. Sometimes we're feeling lazy and we take a week off. We always start in early August. We vacation in September. We take Winter and Spring breaks when it works for us. My husband is gone three weeks a month. When he's home, we don't work as hard. We enjoy him.

#8 I get to spend so much time with my kids. I don't think I'm better than you. I don't think you're better than me. I homeschool for my own reasons and you may send your kids to whichever school for your own reasons. Either way, we have the right to choose what we think is best for our kids. I'm glad to stand on my soapbox and explain my personal mission statement, but for now, I'm glad I get to be with my kids. I love them. Some days they make me crazy, but they're still my favorite people. Who better to teach them than me?

#9 The public library. This is my first experience homeschooling in America. The public library is the jackpot! Each week I pick up picture books about whatever topic we are covering that week (Civil War, Cleopatra, The Iron Curtain). I feel empowered. They feel empowered. It's like an energy shake for your social brain. A little better than FB I think.

#10 My kids actually like each other Most people say to me, "I could never homeschool. My kids would drive me crazy!" or "My kids can't stand each other." Because my kids are together all the time, they actually know how to get along. They have learned to cope with one who is getting cranky and how to help somebody feel better who was accidentally left out. It's a true honor to be around such sweet kids throughout the day, every day. After all, if I don't like them, why should I expect other people to?

To sum it up, homeschool makes us a strong family. I could write a million things more, but these are just the first that came to mind. At some point in my life I probably uttered the words, "I will never homeschool", but like most things, our refusal to try something usually ends up in facing it head on. Once I was a victim homeschooler. Now I do it by choice.