No Parental Involvment Required

There are many beautiful things about homeschooling. One of those things is the independence that it fosters in our children as they learn to learn. But, I fear there is a movement within homeschooling that is making it too easy for parents to be lazy, the No Parental Involvement Required movement.

Ok, so there really is no official NPIR movement, but there is something going on within the homeschooling community that is alarming. When my family, and I believe most families, chose to keep their children out of the traditional school movement, a major part of that decision was the ability to be in control of what our children are learning. The increasing number of homeschoolers has given us access to numerous curriculum options. Having choices has meant that homeschooling parents are able to cater curriculum to their own families in a highly customizable way. But it has also bred a new type of curriculum, the no parental involvement required curriculum and I fear an increase in lazy hands-off homeschooling.

Picture Credit

As I have browsed the various social media sites that I am involved in, I have noticed a steady increase in the number of parents who are not only just looking for low involvement curriculum, but are also unafraid to admit that they simply do not wish to teach their children! No, there isn't anything inherently wrong with using some low parental involvement curricula. I quite enjoy the fact that I don't need to stand over my children through our entire school day, but I am afraid that there is an issue here that need to be addressed. If we are removing parents from the role of teachers are we really doing our kids justice? Where parents were once forced to be hands on with their children, they now have the option to step back completely. When a parent is not involved with their child's schooling it comes close to leaving them right back where they were before homeschooling. What benefit is it to our children when we remove ourselves from the roll of teacher?

I believe as die hard homeschooling families, we have a tendency to only show the happy part of homeschooling and as a result, give off the impression that homeschooling is easy. It isn't, at least not always. We have really great days where everything runs smoothly and the kids are having fun and learning, but most days are hard work, really hard work. We have created this illusion and curriculum companies have perpetuated the idea of a hands off education by producing NPIR curriculum. Sadly, there seems to be quite a market for these types of curricula as more and more become available each year.

There are some seasons in which a low parent involvement curriculum can be a great blessing. New babies, moves, extended illnesses all interfere in a way that make homeschooling all but impossible without them. Children get older and naturally need us less and less. However, these curricula should not be the norm. They should be the exception. Our children need us to be involved. The homeschooling movement needs parents to be involved. God requires us to be involved.

Why I don't Make My Children Share

"Mom! He won't share his firetruck with me and I want to play with it!
Oh, well remember what I told you? You can't force other people to share, but just remember that when you bring a toy."

When the girls were little, because they were so close in age they shared everything. Birthday gifts, clothing, shoes, you name it. It was just easier for them that way and it was easier for me. As soon as the girls hit about five years old, they suddenly became aware that their gifts were just that, theirs. I am sure you can imagine the aftermath of this revelation. It was miserable. One screaming, but it is my gift while the other is screaming share! What a confusing message I was sending! In a way it was almost cruel to give my daughter a gift only to insist that she give it to her sister in the form of "sharing".

I know what you are thinking. I am that mom. The one with the spoiled child whose children sit around yelling "mine" any time they have friends over. Actually, it is quite the opposite, once we stopped forcing them to share, they became more generous with their toys!

We all have private property. If you needed/wanted to use my cell phone, you wouldn't walk up to me demanding or expecting to use it. You would ask and if I said no you wouldn't keep insisting. You would respect my private property. Children are often not afforded the same respect in regards to their property. What does not forcing my children to share actually teach them?

First, it teaches them that others have to respect their property. This can include everything from clothing, to toys or even their own bodies. They know that no one (except for those in authority over them) have the right to put their hands on their property without permission. We teach them how to handle individual violations appropriately.

Second, it teaches them that they do not have the right to put their hands on anyone elses property. If we are going to expect others to respect our private property, we must learn to respect others. Sometimes, it leads to being disappointed by someone not wanting to share. This teaches empathy.

Third, because they have discovered for themselves that not being willing to share sometimes leads to the other child not wanting to play with them, they have become more generous because they have figured out that it leads to more friends!

I know that mom I quoted above thought I was teaching my child that he doesn't have to share. And she is right, but what I am teaching him is that sharing brings joy to others and in turn brings joy to us. As a result I have three children who are almost always willing to share, even their special toys.


What are your thoughts on sharing?

If You Give a Mom a Few Minutes

If you give a mom a few minutes...

If you give mom a few minutes of peace and quiet, she will probably get a cup of coffee.
While she is drinking her coffee, she will probably pick up her laptop and check her email.
She will be looking through her email until she reads one reminding her that she needs a dinner plan.
She will then start doing recipe searches based on the few ingredients one generally has after refusing to go grocery shopping for several weeks.
While searching for recipes, she will realize all the meat in the house is frozen, thereby leading her brain down the path of 'freezer cooking.'
So, in an effort to find a complete plan, she will start googling such terms as; once a month cooking, bulk cooking, and freezer cooking. 
She will find a plan and decide to print it all out.
While printing, the printer will run out of paper, so the mom goes to the usual spot the paper is kept.
She will find the paper missing.  While silently berating her organizational skills, she will go purge every last stack of paper and magazines in the desk.
When she finally decides that she is out of printer paper, and is having a discussion with herself about whether or not the plan can be printed on construction paper, her 11 year old artist will finally tell her what she did with the paper and the current location of what is left of it.
She will reload the paper in the printer.
After the printing is completed, she will take the grocery lists and look through all the cabinets, refrigerator, freezers, and the pantry and mark off the ingredients she already has.
While doing so, the children will think she is in the kitchen for the sole purpose of making them a snack.  The mom will see that it is 11:30 in the afternoon and tell all the children that lunch is on the way. 
The two year old will misinterpret this to mean that pizza will be delivered shortly, and announce with glee and sheer delight that she "loves pidda!"
The mom will notice the look of dismay the two year old gives the peanut butter sandwich. Which will remind the mom that grocery shopping does have to occur somewhere in the near future. 
The mom will tell the dad that she is going to the supermarket and leaving all the children with him.
Then she drives to the nearest Starbucks, and has a cup of coffee.

Choosing Peace

Scrolling across my screen this morning, I see “Hardees first chain to add turkey burgers to their menu”.  I am guessing this is supposed to be a positive statement.  I just thought “WHY?!! It’s not Thanksgiving!”  My shock and concern were furthered when I realized, some people must like them, as in, they enjoy the taste.  I can only think their mothers must not have fed them properly.  Is the “lettuce and ketchup taste good for breakfast” group responsible for this addition? 




Where's the beef?!


Random things like this are what I think about before my kids get up, in those few moments of quiet.  I can not seem to think rational thoughts at 7:00 in the morning, sans the noisy noises from my four children.  It is like their very presence and all of those noises that make me say, “Everyone stop talking, I CAN’T THINK!” that actually inspires me to think beyond the randomness that floats around in my head.  It is funny that all my best ideas come to me at the most inopportune times like while driving the van with the children singing along with Veggietales or grocery shopping or while serving dinner.  If the president could call on me during those moments, I could possibly tell him how to handle the current crisis in the Middle East in a way that would win him accolades from both sides of the aisle. 

A shout out and a thumbs up to mommy blogger Super J, for her vast knowledge and willingness to share!

I love being a stay at home mom and homeschooling. One of the reasons is that I like having my kids with me. I like having them close and safe, I am all to aware that one day they will be out on their own and I will have to settle for silence and wondering how they are and if they are going to remember to call me on Sunday afternoon.  There are so many things that want to compete for my time with them, the TV, the computer, the phone, Facebook, life in general….  We who are moms, should know that while our time is short and valuable, our time with our kids is shorter and even more valuable.  Sometimes when I lay down at night, I cringe in remembrance of the day, because I realized I let all the cares of life and distractions steal the majority of my time, and my children actually had very little of it, when they are the primary reason I am a stay at home mom. 

One of my goals while pregnant and then while the baby was very little, was to act with no regrets.  I did not want to look back to my time of pregnancy and the baby’s infancy and regret a single moment.  I generally live in peace and contentment.  I can typically move past my mistakes and failures and chalk those times up to the “school of life” and move forward.  If I miss an appointment, a friend’s birthday, or a day of school, it doesn’t bother me for too long.  Everything comes back around.  What I won’t get back though, are the missed opportunities to blow bubbles with the kids, to push Beks on the swing, and put together puzzles with them.  I miss these opportunities because I am trying to get things done.  I know in my heart that it is ok if the puzzle pieces are on the floor and the bed isn’t made if it is because I stopped what I was doing long enough to enjoy the children.  A bookshelf that isn’t straight won’t hurt anything but my pride and that is only when I am glancing around the room with a critical eye because people have come over.   So, I try not to sweat the small stuff. 

Especially that refrigerator door part....

It is the bigger stuff, like the bitterness that is in me towards some things in my life where I have a problem.  But, I know that bitterness and anger are best friends and will grow roots on the top of the garden of life that trip you and can cause you to fall.  These issues are the true time stealers for me.  They are the issues that make feel like I can not cope when the kids or my husband are losing their minds.  The problem is, these things are not going to go away.  They will be here, I am just going to have to learn how do deal with them and how to set them aside in “you can’t change it, so leave it alone” pile.  That is more of a process than I would like to think about.  The wonderful thing is that God indeed knows the issues I face and is aware that I fail miserably at dealing with them, and tend to just get irritable when they crop up.  God knows that although I mow them down they always come back and I know that He alone can dig up the roots for me, because I am woefully inadequate.  So, I can arm myself with that, some prayers, and a few deep breaths, and just be.  I know that I can put the mantle of peace and contentment down and that I can also put it back on, living with no regret means that I have to choose this every day, on purpose.

Perfect Parenting

No one prepared me for children.  I did think that after a full 10 years of infertility, praying and essentially begging God for them, that I was ready.  I read every manual, handbook, and website I came across that concerned child rearing.  I spoke with other mothers as if I had real knowledge about all things children and childhood.  I pitied them in both their successful and futile efforts of parenting their kids.  Pitied their success because surely, it was dumb luck that got the results, as they did not do what I would have done according to the all knowing book writers and of course common sense.  Pitied their failures because their first mistake was to *not* ask me for advice.  They just did not know the expert that I was, and could not be, because of our misfortune to be unable to reproduce our own offspring.
 
HA!

Then I picked up my first baby.  A 10 month old bouncing baby boy, whose birthmother, in a moment of wisdom mingled with desperation, grief, and despair, placed him for adoption.  As I took this child in my arms, I imagined I could feel her loss and felt so sorry that I was gaining from her pain.  But, this was the baby I dreamed of and I was going to do this parenting thing perfectly.

Yes, Game On!

We took our baby home, put together his “Nursery in a Box”, while he watched on from a high chair, and began our foray into the world of parenting.  At this point in time, my only “real life” experience with parenting consisted of the afore mentioned books, and my year and a half of being a foster parent.  The foster parenting experience did lend itself to increasing my knowledge of parenting, but I was parenting the way that the State of Tennessee told me to.  There is a remarkable difference.  I did not feel the weight of responsibility, the burden that knowing that, yes, yes you can screw you child up for the rest of their life, and that only after years of therapy and multiple Oprah appearances can they ever be “normal” or “happy.”  I just did what I felt was right in my heart. For me this consisted of me constantly carrying the 1 year old girl, that I currently had courtesy of the state, around on my hip.  I did not worry that I was going to spoil her, did not worry that she was going to expect to be treated like a princess at 12, and did not worry about anything I had read in a book.  I just did what felt “natural”, within the boundaries the state of Tennessee set for me as her foster mother.  (I probably would have even tried to lactate and feed her breastmilk, but the state would have certainly frowned on that.)

Yay! This living life thing is fun! Now, servant mommy, pick me up!

My son did not receive that luxury.  He was loved and deeply cherished. But I felt the responsibility for him to “turn out right” to not “spoil” him and to “do it right.”  I did not do what came naturally for me, which looks more like attachment parenting.  I let him “cry it out”, put him to sleep and fed him at the appointed times.  I did not hold him all the time, even though I was desperate to do so.  I refused to let him whine or fuss about things.  I confess, I was hard on him.

Then, I got pregnant.  This is where some may think, “That always happens when someone adopts.”  Let me assure you, it doesn’t always happen, and as a matter of fact, rarely happens.  When you say this, it also cheapens adoption and it insinuates that adoption is a means to an end, suggesting that we only adopted to achieve pregnancy.  That is certainly not the case.  Anyway, I was fully aware during my pregnancy, that this was probably the only time that I would ever be pregnant, the only other baby I would ever have, and I threw the idea of perfection out the window.  I was going to enjoy it, darn it.  I chose to live every moment of my pregnancy (save the 40th week) in joy and satisfaction.  I knew that there were no guarantees that I would actually bring a baby home (my sister says I was jaded). So, I had pregnancy pictures taken, I took pictures of my pregnant self every week, talked about being pregnant to the point, I may have run off a few friends, and just generally lived in a constant state of gratitude.

This was a couple days before I delivered, I briefly considered putting was I was actually thinking while this picture was being taken, but you go running from the blog saying, "My eyes!" So, dear reader, I will not traumatize you with the reality that was this picture... *snicker*

I delighted in every ultrasound, cried every time we got to hear the heartbeat, and reveled in the attention and glory that pregnancy bestows on otherwise boring and plain women.  I bought an entire wardrobe of maternity clothes, started wearing them almost immediately and perfected the pregnancy waddle very early on.  Even though pregnancy was extraodinarily hard on my 30+ year old body, I relished the experience. 
Then, I brought home the baby.


I know!  So stinking cute!

 I knew from seeing the differences in the my son and my foster daughter, in terms of confidence, security, our bond, and general disposition, that I had indeed failed my son miserably.  I had already been moving to rectify the errors my perfectionist ways had caused, and was working on bonding more with my son.  I know enough not to continue repeating bad ideas, and knew that the way I parented my daughter was a far better “fit” for me.  Besides, I could not have put this new baby down, even if I wanted to, which I didn’t.  I did not worry about spoiling her, I was just so GRATEFUL that she was here, that I determined to live every day in the gratefulness that I had.  I put aside the desire to do everything “right” and decided to do what I felt my God & my heart told me to do.

Kids have this habit about them.  They all grow and change, and you as a parent have to grow and change.  That first little girl I mentioned, has an older sister.  She is now 11.  She is one of the girliest girls you will ever meet. 

I am so girlie! I love all things frou frou and fluffy and princess...

The other day I walked by the bathroom and smelled singed hair and sweat, I glanced in and my beautiful preteen was trying to flat iron her very kinky curly hair into straightened submission.  I tried to give her instruction on the “proper way” but she is determined that her way is best.  She popped out of the bathroom for a quick break from torturing fixing her hair, and asked, “Hey Mom? Can I get my eyebrows waxed?” I think her eyebrows are beautiful.  My first response was to laugh hysterically and say no, I can’t even get my OWN brows waxed, but I did not.  I took a deep breath, reminded myself that she was getting bigger and told her that I would pluck them for her.  After answering her questions about the procedure and assuring her that ripping your eyebrow hairs out by their roots did, in fact, hurt like.. Well, that, she declined.  She then asked about having a new face.  She is obviously beautiful, so why in the world does she want a new face?  She said that she wanted to look like the model on the front of the make up book.  The model has the perfect, botoxed to frozeness, look of serene happiness on her face.  So, I see in my daughter the desire to be what she considers perfect, and I want to hold on to her as tightly as I can and keep her from a quest that will be never ending.  I want her to know that she is perfect the way she is, and when she accepts that, she will find a level of peace that not many others can say they have.
 
I ended up adopting the little baby girl and her older sister.  Now I am the proud parent of four of the most beautiful children you have ever laid eyes on.   I want to live in peace about the way I parent. I don’t want to feel resentful of my kids or their demands on me because I am their mother and I am defined by that and that is okay.  I will never achieve an award from Parents magazine for being the perfect parent, for coming up with the newest discipline technique that “really works”, or have kids that always behave and make the right choices. Above all, I have to do what I feel is best for my children and live in peace with that.

This is my life - And I am thankful....