Homeschooling by the Seat of my Pants

Farmer's Markets, Social Skills, and Old-fashioned Math

Always chasing sisters.

      It's probably not a good idea that Blueberry has put all my drying hot peppers in her sippy cup. Somehow I don't think spicy water is appropriate for babies, even Blueberry who likes hot sauce and curry. I had the peppers up high, but I turn around and she has climbed on top of the stool all by herself and is very busy exploring her new world called the 'counter top'. Luckily, she hadn't drank the water.

      Blueberry has increased the size of her world map lately, with gaining the ability to escape her crib, climb onto sisters' beds, and being able to reach up and pull things from the counters.

      It is a busy time- this time of the Tremendous and Terrific Two's. The world of a two year old is a world of newness, and excitement. Things are like magic. Water comes from the sink. The lights turn off and on. Sisters have the best things. And Mommies always have the best hugs.

     Oh, and Frozen songs are the only approved songs to play while driving.

     One day, when the kids are all grown and highly successful, I will be asked to write a book on my method of homeschooling and I will be unable to offer any constructive advice because I will have to say:

   

      I just winged it.

     Naw, that's not completely true. There is actually a plan to the ways I'm doing things but it's not rigid.

     It's structured. And I have clearly defined goals written down for us to reach.

     But I don't have a chart with gold stars and I don't have ribbons for participating.

     I don't have massive amounts of tests and quizzes.

Instead, I have experiences to give them. Questions to make them think. Books, and National Geographics to read.

      And the other day I had the Farmer's Market. It was too nice of a day to learn inside, so we took the classroom outside, because that is one of the greatest thing about homeschooling- the flexibility.

      Our Farmer's Market consist of a row of white tents, lined against the parking lot of one of our city parks. There are fruits- melons, apples, and peaches. There are veggies of many kinds- heirlooms and oddities, white cucumbers to catch people's attentions, and black cherry tomatoes that appear at first to be rotting, but are sweet and low acidity. And skinny eggplants that don't look like the fat and sassy eggplants in the store.

        The girls tried slices of peaches, so fuzzy and sweet, the juice dipping down their chins. And Blueberry smelled the herbs.

       We decided that for our lesson that day, Bean was going to make a salsa and Abu was going to try her hand at pickles.

      We went to the pepper guy, who I had interviewed for a newspaper article, which means I should have known better because he had given me samples to try and his idea of hot is vastly different than my idea of hot.

      But we were discussing sweet peppers and so when he offered Abu a bite of pepper, I didn't stop her from trying it.

     Her eyes start to water and her cheeks flushed. I thought she was going to start crying.

      It wasn't a sweet pepper.

     He offered her a fuzzy yellow cherry tomato, which she ate out of desperation because she doesn't like tomatoes but her mouth was on fire.

    Luckily it helped.

I felt bad. I had not taken them to the Farmer's Market to burn their tongues.

     While I worried about Abu, Bean searched the containers of peppers, picking ones by how hot they smelled.

     Blueberry wanted to help search and she couldn't understand why I wouldn't let her coat her little fingers in volatile pepper juice.

    We found pickling cucumbers, and squashes.

     And left, forgetting that we needed tomatoes for the salsa and dill for the pickles.

    After running an errand, we swung back around to the market and I made Bean get out and purchase the tomatoes and dill on her own. I watched from the car as she had to convey what she needed. A conversation happened between her and the young lady running the booth.

Social skills for the day. Checked.

This homeschooling stuff was getting easy.

We went home and spent the morning making salsa and pickles. 

   And then we worked on math, without – wait for it because Bean still couldn't believe I would make her do long division without it – a calculator.

I'm such a mean mom, expecting my child to perform math without an electronic device.

But I just tell them it's good for building pathways in the brain.

They just roll their eyes and ask if we can go to the Farmer's Market again.

She might not be the most articulate person in the room but when she is- it's because she blogged.

Or how referring to one self's in the third person either makes you 

look crazy or super cool.

 

         The ball of fire was lodged in my throat- not a real fire mind you, with my history of clumsy- should I take up knife throwing or fire eating- I would probably be mortally injured. But anyway, back to my tale...

          The ball of fire was lodged in my throat, settled against my vocal cords and I couldn't speak. My chest was tight, like a vise...no, too cliché... like a boa was slowly wrapping around me, squeezing tighter with every breath I took.

I've definitely been watching too many episodes of 'Naked and Afraid.' For people that hate snakes, this is probably not your type of show.

        My anger was thick like molasses. Umm, this is why I shouldn't write in metaphors. Does anyone ever cook with molasses anymore? My grandparents had a bottle of it in their cupboard, it was like over twenty years old. They never used it but they insisted it was still safe to eat.

        So lets try this again....my anger was thick like when you're on Facebook and the news feed won't load. How am I suppose to stay updated with everyone's coffee drinks and meals out if I can't see their pictures? Or worst yet, I might miss a funny cat video!!!

       (Disclaimer: I actually enjoy connecting with family and since I have a big interest in food, seeing what people are eating or cooking does not bother me. When my family or friends go on vacation, I will beg them for details about every meal they ate. They get annoyed, I just want to know if the butter had fresh garlic in it.)

      (Second disclaimer: I love funny cat videos. Or puppies video. I always have been enjoying YouTube channels, List 25 and Danger Dorian. I've learned the craziest things watching their videos. Check it out.)

     So where was I...It was a dark and stormy night... No, no, no. That's not right. It was a bright and sunny day and I was rolling my eyes because it was better than the harsh and unforgiving words heavy on my tongue.

      Of course, rolling one's eyes is probably not the best method of communication a grown woman in her thirties can use. But in this case it was the most respectful thing I had to say to this person. (And no, we're not talking about Hero Hottie. With his new work schedule we don't even get to see each other at this point, but that's another story.)

      So where does this blog leave us, my loyal readers? I won't go into details of the situation because it would be disrespectful of me. And maybe just a little passive aggressive. But the incident did remind me that it's hard for me to communicate when I'm upset.

       That's how I ended up swallowing fire instead of standing my ground. But out of respect for where the situation happened I wasn't going to unleash like a dragon blowing fire either. Mmm, I like that metaphor.

      I think everyone in the world can agree that communication is one of the hardest skills to learn, to use, to apply, yet if you think about it, it is the foundation of our entire lives.

      If we don't learn to communicate our feelings, than we turn around and blog about it.

      But communication is difficult, just ask Blueberry who is in the stage of throwing herself on the floor, belly down, performing the typical stereotype tantrum as if she read it in a baby manual.

-How to Perform the Perfect Tantrum-

Step #1: Always wait until Mommy is tired and in the middle of the store. Preferably, near the candy aisle.

Step #2: Gently placed yourself on the ground and start kicking your legs and pounding your fists.

Step #3: Scream. Look up, make sure Mommy is watching. Should you make eye contact with her, continue with the tantrum. Should Mommy be ignoring you, than give it one more good scream but realize Mommy might just keep ignoring you.

Step #4: It only has to work once, after that Mommy will be ready to hand you some candy as soon as you look like you're going to scream.

But onto a slightly more serious note.

The best advice I can give doesn't come from me, but I'm sure this lovely woman won't mind me sharing. –-After all, she wanted Bean and Abu to fully take these words to heart. --

Do not let the small-mindedness of people hold you back. Do not allow their insecurities to ruin your sense of self worth. Because in the big picture, the world is a wonderful place full of things to learn, people that will like you for who you are, and things to experience.

If you allow small-minded attitudes to hold you back, you won't go exploring. You won't live.

And she also said, give something back. Find a way, because not everyone has the same way of showing kindness, and give back.

Heck, I could use that advice. It's taken me too long, probably because I have a touch of people-pleaser in me, to realize that there are people that like to dwell in the miserable, and they will drag you down to the murky depths with them.

To those people I say: for the words I should have spoken, no longer need said, I have found my sense of self and it is not in your hate.

 

Baby Blueberry Turns Two

            Navigating Life Or Did I Ever Tell You About My Mad Map Skills

I Can Do It Myself

        Why is it the thing we want them to do so badly is the thing that breaks our heart? I want my children to be independent. Strong. Kind.

(Although I did not see that yesterday in Bean's and Abu's behavior with each other. Which lead me to ignoring them for an entire afternoon, which was followed by them trying to make dinner, watching the Baby so I could have a break(which translates into a sulk while I contemplated why I had kids), and wait for it...being super nice to each other.)

        But back to my sappy blog about how I'll miss them when they're independent, even while I'm super mad at them for being mean to each other. Only in parenthood can we feel a dozen different emotions about our children -SIMULTANEOUSLY.

Mmm, that's not right. Relationships. It's in relationships that we can feel more than one emotion at a time. So preschool really screws a person up. Because the teachers holds up a card that depicts SAD, MAD, HAPPY, or CONFUSED and tells the child that when they have that face on, that is the emotion they are experiencing.

The teachers don't pull out the cards where it shows you can experience sad and happy at the same time. Or mad and love. Or confused and every other emotion with it. No one explains that you can experience happy for someone with envy. Or intense love for your spouse at the same time you're volcanically mad over some situation. (Usually involving one of three things: money, parenting styles, or stealing the covers. I'm starting to think people should give HIS/HER comforters as wedding presents.)

So parenthood involves having your heart experience sweeping waves of being proud of your kid for doing normal everyday things such as eating with a fork or walking - at the same time you're sure they will grow up, move out and never come to visit.

Which BTW- we had to tell the teenager, Bean, good job with eating with a fork the other night. She couldn't understand why we were praising the Baby for EATING. She wrinkled her nose at us and laughed. Point taken and she joined in telling Baby Blueberry what a big girl she was for using a fork and not throwing all her food on the floor.


But anyway, we want our children  ready to navigate the world and follow their dreams. Even though we start to miss them with every little step they take towards that goal.
 
  And it starts so young. Before they start to walk but you can really see it when they finally figure out the sweet success of putting one foot in front of the other. A task we take for granted, but one that took each and every one of us many times of falling down and trying again.

 
    Baby Blueberry took quite a while to walk. Crawling was her mode of transportation. She was speedy too. She could crawl faster than most other babies could walk. And so she didn't learn to walk until after her first birthday.
   Why? It was slow and torturous. Falling down. Bumping. It took forever to wobble over to the object she wanted, whereas with crawling she could reach her destination in no time at all.
   Why change the status quo? She was perfectly happy without walking.

   And then, one day, it finally occurred to her. Heck yes, walking was faster.

  She hasn't slowed down since.  So even though every baby moment I knew we would have, I tried to savor because I knew from past experience it would move oh, so fast, -it still flew by and now my Baby is a toddler.

   My oldest is a teenager and my Abu is starting to show signs of being a teenager. (hint: drama, mood swings, and demanding more independence)

  One time, long ago, Hero Hottie and I drove down to Texas. I was navigating, thinking that my map reading skills were so awesome. I managed some of the other smaller states pretty well, until I told Hero Hottie we had about three hours in Texas to reach our stop for the night.

  Three hours later and we still have a whole lotta of Texas to drive through. Hero Hottie pulls over, an impatient Baby Bean in the back, and studies the map.
   He starts laughing.
   At me.
   I had misread the scale to measure miles, which had changed since Texas is so much bigger than the other states. My inch of Texas included so many more miles than my inch of the other states.

   He pats my knees, trying to be encouraging and avoid a fight.
   I haven't lived it down but my map reading skills have gotten better since that trip.

   But sometimes I think life is like that. I'm always using the wrong scale to determine the length of my journey.

    So somewhere this blog entry is about the confusion that is life. How super excited I am that it is Baby Blueberry's 2nd birthday tomorrow and how melancholy it is making me feel.

  
   But mostly this blog entry is about how fast life moves, especially after they learn to walk. Because then it's all about chasing them until they move out.
  
   And teaching them map reading skills.

   Oh, and that Texas is a huge state.

Barking Toddlers, Part Time Public School, and Being the Weird Parent

Otherwise the Busy Life I'm Leading While Trying to Market The Cowboy's Sexy Songbird and Having No Idea What I'm Doing

 

Gibson and Blueberry have a quiet moment together

My life lately, has turned into a boat ride- on a cargo ship, chugging through the cold bitter waters of the Atlantic Ocean, being whipped back and forth from wave to foamy wave. The salt water splashes over the crews' head, filling their mouths and eyes with the salty and gut turning seawater---

and I'm desperately holding onto the side rail, my stomach churning and losing my lunch over the side.

That's where I'm at lately. Mentally. Not physically.

Physically- I'm a landlocked lass, dreading the impeding doom of yet another winter -(has anyone ever asked Mother Nature why we can't change the seasons a bit- perhaps only have winter every other year? That would be great. Currently I'm on a campaign to convince Hero Hottie that we should move to New Zealand. Anyone ever been?)

Mentally- I feel tossed around like a salad- look at me being pun-ny. I think it's the contradictions I'm living right now. I'm grateful to pay for braces for Abu, but staying up at night stressing about paying the heating bill this winter because I used my saved heating money to have a torture device installed in her mouth.

Which BTW- an expander needs turning by a little 'key'- sounds innocent enough until you're in the middle of turning this key and you realize you're stretching and tearing apart the flesh of your child. Then I start to feel a bit sick to the stomach.  But we are on the last day of turning that damn key- yay Abu- and it has definitely started to reshape her jaw. Which had to be done- not just for looks, but she couldn't eat before we started the orthodontic work.

I have released my first fiction work, The Cowboy's Sexy Songbird, but now I'm stressing because I don't know how to sell it. So far I have heard good reviews and that warms my heart. No writer likes to release a piece of work and have people hate it.

Baby Blueberry will be a toddler next week. How did she turn two already? And she's busy barking at people. Everywhere. In the store. Down the street. Out the front window. And it's a good bark too, sounds just like a puppy. Many people have been startled by her barking, because they weren't expecting a curly head, blue-eyed toddler to be the source. It's just one more thing Gibson has taught her. The art of communication. 

Abu and Bean are going to public school part-time. For fun classes. Electives. At home we're focusing on math and writing. I will say right now, I'm not fond of the current methods of teaching math. Not at all. And in the future I will write about it in my blog.

We are also covering science, which have consisted mostly of field trips so far and it's only the second week.
Last year I stressed over how to home school Bean. I borrowed books from the school district, which we stopped using after the third week. I bought workbooks, which we finished but yawn. And finally towards the end of last year, because Bean was bored- I pulled out my college science books and had some success.
This year it's all college books or books from the library. I'm skipping textbooks, workbooks, and the stress of having to do something a certain way because there's an expectation of the ways things should be done.
So far, second week in, math is done -old school- science has been enjoyed and topics have been discussed for writing.  I feel more success already than the entire six months last school year combined.

I know the crazy ways I look at running my life don't make money. Trust me, you have a money question ask my brother or sister-in-law, not me. And my main goal right now is to make money- I suddenly had this overwhelming fear occur that I didn't want to be the old lady eating cat food forty or fifty years from now, so I thought I better shift gears now, while I have time to make money.
   But writing my own script has worked for me. So we're writing our own script for their education too.
   Abu wants to be an engineer. We're going to focus on math, and taking apart garage sale appliances, building things, and art.
   Bean wants to do something that isn't in an office. Which I have known since she was seven and couldn't sit still. I want her to learn determination.
   Blueberry wants to be a musician. I know, she's only almost two. But you should see her with music. It is what makes her soul sing.

  And hence, why I'm the weird parent. At least according to Bean's friends, after I made them pick their supper from the garden when they came over for a sleep-over. And it was one of the best salads they had ever ate.

   I may just have to accept that my life is messy right now. And it's okay. Because it's not a total disaster.
   But if it does get messier, than I'll just dream about New Zealand.
  Or start barking at people. Works for Blueberry.