Reading together

I'm going to start with the end of the day, because that was my favorite part. When we finished dinner this evening Calvin, who was done eating and who had been eyeing his newest library book all through dinner, a book that we had made a special trip to the library to get earlier in the afternoon, suggested that he read the first chapter to us while we finished our meals. Although I'd had no intention of his reading this book by himself, hadn't even considered it as a possibility, we took him up on his offer, figuring that if he had trouble he'd let us know and we could pick it up from there. And because nobody told him he couldn't read it, he sat down and promptly did so, reading to us the first chapter of his newest book, The Knight at Dawn, a Magic Treehouse Book.

It has long been a dream of mine to share stories read aloud together as a family after dinner, and for all of his life we've been doing this to some extent because we always read to him before bed and he is happy to forgo all other activities to fill the small space between dinner and bed with books. But I had figured it would be some time yet before he took his turn at the helm. It was my favorite part of the day because it's a moment I've been waiting a long time for, and it was as delicious a moment as I believed it could be.

The rest of the day was fine, too. Calvin spent much of it in the middle ages, and between reading books, looking at pictures, and writing on note cards he kept himself pretty busy. I spent my free time, when I wasn't also in the middle ages, reading my own book and researching cameras, because while we did go for a fantastic hike this morning, and did see a majestic Great Blue Heron in our pond not more than ten yards away from us, I have no pictures, just whole lot of frustration, to show for it.

And by the way, nobody said homeschooling was a venture for the neat minded. As you can see, our house is now littered with a bread crumb trail of books on the middle ages. From where I sit, it looks like those crumbs all lead back to the castle (or possibly the laundry we'd just folded), but I think where they really go is straight into the future.

Clear as glass

I have a terrible confession: it is a hard thing for me to follow a thread of interest through a day.

We started today in the middle ages, with the clear intent of reading through all the middle ages books we'd gotten from the library. All of them because Calvin is a determined child and that's what he wanted to do. It wasn't far from there to the illustrated book on the authentic building processes in late medieval castles and cathedrals, and it wasn't the stories themselves, or their heavy stones, or the references to kings or religion, that caught Calvin's fancy, but the simple question: how do they make the glass?

Yes, sometimes it's following the thread of interest that's the hardest thing to do. I know, I absolutely know, that the kind of education I want Calvin to have is one of empowerment, one that teaches him to trust his dreams and make them happen and that kind of education begins with honoring his interests and teaching him to take the step past the "I wonder" or "I will", straight into the doing. I know this, and still I am driven to respond to questions like "I wonder how they make glass" with "we can find out later but first let's finish this book," and how often do we remember to go back? The moment is gone. I don't know why it's so hard for me to follow his threads when in actuality it is the easiest and most rewarding thing in the world to do. But I did it today; We marked our place in the book and looked up glass blowing right away, and it was fun, and fulfilling, and rewarding. And easy. He asked, we looked it up. We watched almost thirty minutes of video on making antique glass and then he wanted to watch it again, and wanted to be sure that I saved it so that he could return to the topic at some other time.

And then there was more reading, and more reading, and piano, and more reading, and book cataloging, and laundry, and more reading and piano with dad (and pets galore because they all come out at feeding time), and, lastly, a return to the glass making discovery. YouTube is my friend, and I already had field trips to Greenfield Village on the brain, but now I'm moving them up in my mental calendar. And through it all I am gaining a new skill, one that is sure to be my best friend through of all of our days together: I am learning to follow his threads.

Math manipulation

I love the medieval era. Actually, I could probably say that about any number of historical eras. What I really love is history. I love it almost as much as I love Saturdays, that day when we can always find a book sale somewhere to peruse. My mother was relieved when I assured her today that we also donate books to book sales, we're not just hoarding them all on our shelves. What I failed to mention is that the incoming volume probably far outweighs the outgoing. At least for right now. I didn't take a picture of today's finds, but I was really excited to bring home an illustrated hardcover of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and a copy of the classic Pinocchio as illustrated by Roberto Innocenti in library binding. I love library binding almost as much as I love Saturdays, history, and the medieval era.

When we got back from our morning out there was a box waiting for us on the front porch. If you've ever seen Christmas Vacation maybe you remember the ringing of the doorbell, each echo sinking further and further into the deep notes of doom. I heard that sound in my head the minute I saw what I knew to be a box containing curriculum on our front porch. Last weekend Jon and I went to a homeschooling book fair to visit Math-u-See, and check out their math manipulatives. I have no intention of starting a rigid curriculum of any kind with Calvin at this age, and after listening to the rep lecture us about having to take tests after each section, having to complete each section in order, yadda yadda, I was internally screaming "No! No! This rigidness is exactly what we are trying to avoid!" But I really liked the manipulatives so we ordered them, and, because another part of my inner self was crying out "I don't know how to do this!", we also ordered the primer book and teaching guide for me to read through.

My intention had been to read through the books and make my own plans for how to use the manipulatives to fit our needs, but now that Calvin can read the instructions for himself he is free to make some of those decisions on his own, too. His excitement over this stuff kind of surprised me, although I'm sure it shouldn't have. The moment I unpacked it he was sorting the blocks, and then, while I was cataloging and putting away our new book sale books, he launched right into the primer. He finished the first nine lessons (mainly number recognition) before he moved on and I breathed a sigh of relief.

And then, like a good child should, he played with the packaging, which is something I'm much, much more comfortable with.

I still have no intention of officially starting Calvin on this stuff. I balk at the mention of tests or curriculum, but I'm nervous about teaching math concepts without a little guidance. It's not that I'm uncomfortable with math, just that I'm unsure of my ability to teach it. What a terrible thing for a homeschooler to say! How many times have I told the doubters that anyone can teach, and learn, anything? But while I may not use the math curriculum, for some reason I feel better having that guidance available, and I really like the manipulatives. I'll get back to you on the rest of it.

Dirt under my nails

How many puddles can he find on a sunny afternoon following a night of thunderstorms and rain?

Unless you count that third one as a pond or a lake, then I guess he can find four.

And in the garden this afternoon we found buds on all our new trees and bushes, and we even started pulling weeds. I know spring is near when I find myself going to bed (or about to go to bed) with dirt under my nails.

We spent our early morning inside, though, doing laundry (he changed his bed all by himself!), reading books, and practicing piano. He drew pictures while I ran on the treadmill (I can't wait for warmer weather), then we compiled all the Africa exploration paraphernalia from all over the house and put it in a folder, which he decorated and labeled before putting on the shelf. The topic was well lived and we had a great time exploring the continent, but I can tell when interest is waning.

The timing is good because I had planned on introducing another Five in a Row book this week, The Clown of God by Tomie dePaola. I specifically chose this book and marked it on the calendar for this week, because the FIAR guide linked it to the topics of aging and, basically, retirement. Since we are going to my (still very young!) dad's retirement dinner on Friday I thought it would be a good book to help Calvin understand the concept a little better. Then I read the book. It's a dark book, actually, and it deals not really with retirement, but with depression and death, two things I don't want Calvin to associate either with my dad or with retirement. But there is a fortuitous side connection here. When I first read the book to Calvin yesterday (thankfully without mentioning my earlier plans for comparison) I mentioned the setting of the book as being Italy during the Renaissance. He promptly demanded to know where Italy was on the map (somehow he already knew it was in Europe), and then launched directly down the Renaissance road. Apparently I've mentioned the time period before, and he associates it with knights and castles and is even more excited about the prospect of exploring those than he was about being in Africa (although maybe the difference is his increasing familiarity with the exploration process, since each topic we've explored has trumped the last on his excite-o-meter).

Our Monday afternoon visit to the library, which usually is just an afternoon of sorting in the book sale room, ended up a major harvest of books on the new topic, all of his choosing. More was added to the castle tonight, too, and he's already talking about expanding it further, and creating armor to wear around the house. His excitement is infectious, which is a darn good thing if I am expected to keep up with him for all these activities this week.

Tuesday in Africa

A full day at home, a hint of the snuffles keeping us inside. Games, blocks, coloring, books, even a video later in the day. Calvin started by creating a pattern, singing about it all the while.

As a homeschooler, a new one, I live in constant fear that I am missing something. I have yet to hit my stride, to get comfortable with the process. There are days when things just work out, and when I think about it those are the days when I follow Calvin's lead, his interests. This week we are talking about Africa and that's because after the African folk tale play we attended last week he wanted to know more, so we are exploring, and each new door opened leads to another gallery, another riddle, and another door. We started with Africa but quickly were forced to delve into understanding continents, because Africa, after all, cannot be compared to the United States or to China, the other two areas in which we've already spent some time. Continent, Country, State, City. He now understands their relationships to each other, and he knows where he lives, he knows where Uncle Curtis lives, and he knows where Aunt Kate lives, in another country on another continent.

We've enjoyed playing Mammoth Hunt with this new knowledge, and playing that game has effectively quizzed his previous understanding of cardinal directions as well, and of counting and adding, as we roll dice and he is responsible for making his own way around the board. He loves games. Probably most kids do, and the right game is a great way to be challenged, to learn. Learning about continents led to us the atlas, the globe, the game, and ultimately back to Africa, because his original interest was not yet sated. So we started mapping the continent and talking about the pictures in the atlas of the desert, the savanna, the rainforest. We researched them, we marked them on maps, we drew them.

And did you know that elephants are so adaptable that they can survive in all of these biomes? Well let's draw elephants then, by all means, but then he was nervous about attempting something so detailed as an elephant, so we looked that up, too. And then we drew them. It's just a combination of circles and lines, really. What a discovery! So we drew them in deserts, we drew them in rainforests, we drew them on the grassy plains. I stand in awe of his elephant drawing capabilities, actually.

And when we tired of drawing elephants, and after we'd gotten our Oz fix over lunch, he decided that I looked like an elephant, because I was all dressed in grey. And he wanted to be an elephant, too, and he had a gray outfit, and while he changed into it I whipped up a quick pair of elephant ears—the healthy kind.

I knew I'd eventually be thankful for those tubs stacked upon tubs filled with extra fabrics. Meet the elephant at the piano.

He trumpets loudly.

Then more books, another game (mancala), and we watch BBC's Planet Earth, the section on world grasslands. We got to see elephants, and some other beautiful creatures.

Today was amazing. I feel great about today. At the end of a day like this I don't feel the lingering doubts. The lesson for me is obvious: I need to be more trusting of Calvin's desire to learn, he needs very little redirection, just help getting where it is that he wants to go. Eventually, with the right kind of help, he won't need me even for that.