Homeschool Curriculum

I am excited about the next homeschool year because I decided to write the curriculum myself. I am a diehard Sonlight fan and used it to school my first two children from first grade to twelfth. I shopped around and landed back at Sonlight for my girls.

When I made the purchase (with no little kicking myself for getting rid of most of it from the first time around), the price hurt a bit. Then I made adjustments to how we were schooling, which led to more purchases. At the time, I was earning a little income from the job I left to homeschool. I knew that would not be the case any other year.

I was browsing at a local bookstore with my husband and we were looking at some of the great deals they offered.  Offhand as we left, I said, "I'm going to just write my own curriculum and get books from there." I took myself by surprise because I hadn't realized how much I'd been thinking about it until it came out of my mouth. My husband protested, knowing how much I love Sonlight.

But once I said it aloud, it took on a solid form and this enthusiasm started bubbling up. I could hardly wait to get home to start planning. Guess what I will be doing over Spring Break? 

Just Be Easy!

My husband and I were talking about parenting the other day. There are times when we feel so successful, and then there are the other times. 

As we shared different stories where we failed to respond well, we saw a pattern. We took turns sharing stories, and they all seemed to go like this. 

A child misbehaves and we handle it with patience, humor, redirection, and calmness. 

That child misbehaves again--repeating the previous action or inventing a new way to be disruptive, disrespectful, or dangerous. And we handle it calmly, the child recovers, and we move on. 

Then that child is downright mean to a sibling, and we facilitate her making it right. 

After two minutes, the child makes eye contact and directly disobeys, "don't-touch-THIS?" style. We take a deep breath and respond like a pro, employing curiosity and remembering that behavior is communication of a need. We discover and meet that need with gentle questions and innovative solutions. 

Then she either does something she can't help, like burps or trips; OR she goes in for a pound and escalates to 11 with no apparent trigger.  Either way, we lose it and blow it. Inside (and sometimes outside) we wail, OH MY WORD, JUST BE EASY!

We keep on keeping on. I think we are improving--every one of us. But we still fall flat on our faces more often than we want. 

Anniversary

We just celebrated our 28th anniversary!

By the way, if you want good babysitters, I know the trick. First, have a couple of great kids who are terrific with kids. Wait 'til they grow up. Then get more kids and have the first kids babysit the second kids.  It's brilliant! That is my cheeky way of thanking our two adult kids for watching our three growing kids.

We went to a hotel two miles from our home and it was magnificent! We napped! We slept 'til we woke up. We talked about kid things and not-kid things. I decided I will start writing my own homeschool curriculum for the girls! (I'm kind of excited about that one!) We remembered the details of our wedding day and the days just before and after. We played games and watched TV. 'Twas marvelous!

I had a vision ages ago that continues to be true today.  We had just gone through some broken friendships that also broke my heart. Then I saw us as if we were on a boat. We had been knocked around, soaked and battered by ferocious winds. As things died down, we managed to stand and look back. There was a maze of whirlpools, monsters, icebergs, and jagged rocks.  I had thought the danger had been from all the weaving the ship had done.  But it was weaving to avoid all those life-threatening dangers. We were being kept safe!

I am so thankful to my hero, living all the stages of life with me. I think there are things that are so far removed from the two people who made vows that it boggles my mind a bit. Being married for life is not a guarantee for anyone these days, but Brian early on decided we would banish the notion of divorce. I think that saved us.

His commitment to our marriage meant that even when things were hard, I knew I had that stability. I could be weak, wrong, and wrecked. But my husband stood strong.  He could screw up, but I wouldn't give up. Knowing we are in this unconditionally means we know it's worth the work that is necessary for any relationship. Not working on it was self-defeating. So, we work, we pivot, we talk, we apologize, and we forgive.

This stability is the biggest gift to our kids. They can do all the things, big and small, good and bad, but this family will always be here for them. 

Please don't mistake this for bragging. I don't deserve the blessings I enjoy. I tell you about this all with big-eyed wonder. I look back and see the dangers we avoided and shake off the goosebumps. We've made it this far. By God's grace, we will keep going.

March: 2025

We made it! It's now! March, 2025. When I started the little series of March posts, I hadn't realized how long ago 2018 is. In my head, 2020 was just last year.  It seemed only smart to back up a couple more years for context. But, I don't know if you know this, 2018 was SEVEN years ago!! How'd that happen?

Where are we now? I am homeschooling! Praise be to God! I have all three at home. I do not need to keep track of three different schedules. I do not have to worry about three different germ sources.  I do not have to undo teaching or decipher what really happened on the playground.  All three girls are learning about Jesus and Biblical literacy. Ah...

My husband and I switched roles to what is more familiar to us both. It was a painful sacrifice to give up retirement and return to full-time work for him.  He was a wonderful homemaker but didn't love the tasks involved with being a stay-at-home dad.  And I loved my job, but I was itching to school all three of my girls myself.  This is good.

The girls are still healing. I am still learning. I need Jesus each day. Therapy is a need that is far away. Diagnoses are sketchy. Homeschooling answers so many of these things. We start the day with Bible and prayer. We incorporate Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Socioemotional Intelligence Education into the week. We feed their artistic creativity with tons of music. I accommodate and modify lessons to scaffold learning. I use tools like essential oil rubs, Thera-bands, weighted blankets, fidgets, and Starbursts to meet both sensory-seeking and sensory-avoidant behaviors. We have a Cozy Corner for big feelings, and can stop the world when a new memory emerges or we hit a trauma trigger.

What more will this March hold?

Wednesdays and "Blended" Families

I changed up my homeschooling schedule to find a routine that is less taxing on all of us.  Today is Wednesday, and that means a Sonlight day in the morning and AWANA at night.  Also, my adult daughter comes for dinner on Wednesdays, which shoots Wednesdays as one of our favorites of the week. 

We often have a more substantial meal (read: I actually plan and execute one). The girls go to AWANA and either my grown kids head downstairs to hang out together, or they join my husband and me for some visiting time.  After the girls get home and go to bed, we might watch a movie or play a game.

Blending families is something our culture is practicing these days to do well for the sake of the kids. That phrase usually refers to families on a second (or more) marriage.  Ours feels like a blended family for different reasons, but we still make a special effort to honor the myriad relationships in this group of seven. One of those ways is to have some four-adult time after the girls go to sleep.

Before the girls joined us, we were a tight family with a unique personality.  It is this quality that I thought made us a good candidate to welcome littles into our family.  I think it is imperative to preserve something of that quality so that we still have that special thing to offer the girls.  

Of course, just as important, we have to shift and adjust to being a unified family of seven, where each person contributes their own tweaks and quirks to become a blended... beast? that represents all of us.

Anyhow, these Wednesday nights are a blessing for us to be four.  My kids giggle and jab at each other.  We watch shows that aren't wholly appropriate for kids. We allow for our relationships to evolve--since our kids aren't kids any more. We remember. We share. We plan. We be. 

Is It Luck?

Sometimes people don’t know what to say when they learn we adopted three girls.  Other times people genuinely mean to say that the girls are lucky we adopted them.  And I cringe every time. 

My oldest daughter has surging feelings whenever she hears it.  Who would call a child born positive for drugs lucky? Or one raised in an abusive or neglectful home?  What is lucky about living in an apartment with an empty fridge or maggots in the corners? And most universal to adoption stories, what child is lucky to lose his or her first family? It’s best not to suggest to our firstborns that their younger siblings are lucky.

My thoughts on it are a little different.  First, I rarely use the term lucky for any situation.  I don’t believe in luck.  Setting it aside and dealing with the actual intent of the statement, I am equally uncomfortable with my littles being called lucky.  While my oldest girl focuses on the circumstances that allowed us to adopt, I am acutely aware of my failings.  I am not a perfect mom.  I am not a perfect anything.  That might seem trite or inspire an eyeroll, but I am being very serious.  These girls have been through enough; they don’t need a lousy mom.  I’m aware of how frequently I mess up and can make myself crazy thinking about the ways I may be messing up without knowing about it!  What’s lucky about being raised by someone like that?

My sister has another perspective.  Her mouth is too colorful to quote, so I will paraphrase. She says we retired and could have followed the American Dream scheme and lived a lifestyle that didn’t include scraping money together or doing without some luxuries we ‘earned.’  Our daily life could have been my pursuing a career in my interests and my husband enjoying well-deserved rest.  We could travel and dance and play.  We could have a disposable income!

Instead, we decided to jump back into the thick of child-rearing at the cusp of empty nesting.  These girls have been through trauma—and so have countless others.  Some of those others won’t be adopted.  They won’t land in a permanent place with people they can call their own.  In her more aggressively-phrased way, my sister says we’re freaking amazing (but she didn’t say freaking).

That makes me so uncomfortable!  I was uncomfortable enough to end the conversation, and very uncomfortable writing it here. The good that comes from it is a determination to make my life agree with her assessment.  I pray, “Let it be, Lord!”  Let me be freaking amazing! Let the girls be blessed with a healthy permanent family to change their statistical trajectory.  And, Lord—Lord—please save those masses of other kids who need the same!

Parenting in our 50s

This could easily be a series on its own.  Parenting littles in your fifties is not the same as parenting littles in your twenties or thirties.  The obvious differences come with the changes we often go through as we age.

Being older, it’s harder to go without sleep.  We are tired!  I say this with some restraint. A lot of that is personality and how we are made.  I naturally function better without sleep than my husband.  For most of our parenting years, I got to be a stay-at-home mom while my husband worked out of the house, so I always took night duty.  (It was a less happy situation when I was working full time and still did night duty!) Even in the gap when we did not have little sleep-thieves, there were occasions I pulled all-nighters and kept on ticking.  I plowed through my BA and MS this way.  I loved people who spent too many nights in an ER or nursing home.  I can sit in a chair with the best of them.

Even so, we are tired!

On that old-body bandwagon is that we are jointy and creeky.  Raising littles after back surgery looks different from when you could throw the kids in the air without a care.  I broke my feet and have plantar fasciitis.  I’m not the runner I once was.

A benefit of age is that we are wiser and have perspective.  We know what will last and what needs attention.  We can laugh. This is a huge boon.  Things that seemed dire once are merely blips that we can ride out with grace.  Our vision is longer.  The concept of raising adults is not new, we have actual tangible evidence that they do grow up.  The first time around, it was theory, a hope.  This time, we have more assurance. 😊

A real zinger about raising kids in your fifties is that your kids talk about and pretend to have hot flashes way more than is normal!