Education is conversation, muses Sproul Jr.

Education is the means by which we pass on our convictions to our children. ~ G.K. Chesterton.

Hmm. With this new found wisdom, I set out to educate my three oldest children via the culinary arts this afternoon. Wanting to pass on my convictions about various philosophical and theological issues, I decided to use manicotti-stuffing as a front. I called my students into the kitchen to help stuff noodles. (Now would be a good time to mention that company is a comin’.) Two climbed on the counter and parked themselves Indian-style Native American style, and one leaned over the work surface on a stool.

The stuffing began in earnest but quickly turned to despair as the cheese oozed out side B when stuffed into side A. Then the noodles began to tear, facilitating the gaze upon greener pastures by my three-year-old. Needless to say, my monologue on the finer points of Biblical exegesis was lost.

Very lost.

As I sit here typing this, the above referenced three-year-old comes to my side with her latest discovery: a three-millimeter worm. “Mommy, look what the Lord made. He made this…” I stop my work, and we examine the little worm together. My daughter and I get an apple “because he’s very hungry and he needs somethin’ to eat.”

Sometimes the best-laid plans go awry. Nevertheless, as I sit here watching my little girl give her God-made worm an apple, I think to myself, This is good. Very good.

And, the manicotti? Not so good…

I have this amazing ability, which my husband admires, and that is that I can peg people pretty accurately. (I’m a pessimist, so that helps a little.) If your theology leans a little toward a charismatic view of Scripture, you might say that I have the gift of discernment. For all you cessationists, let’s just say that I’ve got your number.

However, upon strolling through a few other sites, I’ve noticed that there are a few of you who have the same ability. In other words, you’ve got my number too. I enjoy perusing other people’s blogrolls because what they read tells me a lot about who they are. Often site owners will categorize their lists, and I’ve found myself under a few interesting categories (unless someone else creatively named their site Amy’s Humble Musings). However, the thing that amazes me the most is that I often find this site categorized under “Reformed” and/or “Homeschooling.”

I’ve never used the terms “homeschooling” or “reformed” to describe our family.

Now, we do homeschool and our theology is reformed in nature; I’ll say it. I have avoided mentioning it because I hoped that they were questions that did not need to be asked. When I write a post on my interactions with my children, I hope it leads one to conclude that what we are teaching our children all day long cannot possibly be occurring in a public institution. You already know that I’m passionate and a radical, so I assume that leads you to conclude that we’ve jumped off the mainstream. Humor me here.

When I praise Charlotte for her faith in allowing the Lord to send her twins (recently God chose to take one back) when she already has 11 children, this means that I trust and hope in the sovereignty of God: that He is using our covenant children to build His kingdom and that His provision not only applies to our salvation but extends to our practical needs as well. Not only is He faithful in eternity, but He is steadfast in the daily as well.

I believe the labels, “homeschooling” and “reformed”, might loosely apply to the convictions that we hold firm; they are just natural terms to describe what we are doing and believing. I like to cut to the chase. At the same time, I tend to avoid the use of labels for three reasons:

1. Labels don’t always encompass what you’re labeling, and they often include things that don’t belong with what you’re labeling. For instance, we “homeschool,” but we don’t do school at home. That is, we do not replicate the institutional model that comes to mind when one says the word “school.” Most education passes on to the learner by means of conversation. This has been the most effective model for centuries, and more importantly, the Bible uses this method in Deuteronomy 6 when it instructs parents on what it is that we are to teach our children (to borrow a paraphrase): who God is, what God has done, and what God requires of us. Notice that algebra is missing from this list.

We teach our children academics, but we pass along quadratic equations in the context of a Biblical worldview. Perhaps a better label of what my husband and I are doing would be “discipling.”

2. Another reason that I avoid the use of labels is that sometimes people have a misunderstanding of what the label means, and therefore, they peg you wrongly.

3. Probably the biggest reason that I avoid the use of labels is because I do not want to offend. If I offend, I try to let it be God’s Word that offends and not a misused, misconstrued label attached to my sleeve. I have enough problems keeping myself out of trouble as it is. But again, I definitely sympathize with the shorthand.

So, when I met a woman this week at a playground off an I-95 exit somewhere in South Carolina, she approached me and declared, “My, what a fat baby!” (Baby Energizer’s sole purpose in life right now is to help me strike up conversations everywhere with everyone.) I conceded that Baby Energizer sure does like her chicken-pot-pie. Then she quickly cut to the chase and inquired, “Are you a homeschooler?”

Gee, how’d she know?

I pointed out that I wasn’t wearing a denim jumper, and I pointed out that she, too, is a homeschooler, as she has a baby and toddler underfoot. (Hint: learning doesn’t begin at age six.) Then, she asked me if I was religious. (That was a good one.) Now, not only do we talk the part, but we “look” it as well. (I’m thinking it was the Von Trapp family line-up that we do when we call our kids?)

We believe wholeheartedly in both our responsibility as parents in raising godly children as well as the sovereignty of God as it relates to all of life. And we, as a family, also embrace enthusiastically those who come to different conclusions on the matter. Yet in a nutshell: yes, we homeschool, and yes, we are reformed.

But I guess you already knew that.

10. The only time I “count to five” is when I’m cooking up bowls of oatmeal for Baby Energizer in the morning.

9. All our county resource officers are tied up at our local public preschool.

8. If the teacher needs a little reinforcement, the teacher places a call to the Principal. The Principal speaks on the phone for about 30 seconds to the pupil. Said pupil morphs into Teacher’s Pet instantaneously. Case closed.

7. I never forget to generously dose each child with Prozac and Ritalin before the start of each day.

6. All our kids just skip kindergarten.

5. Withholding library privileges is worse than handcuffs for our kids.

4. If Baby Energizer continues her growth trend, the police will need a forklift by the time she’s five, not handcuffs.

3. The NEA and the ACLU are scared of the HSLDA.

2. Our kindergartners are too busy reading good books to be inconvenienced by a trip to jail.

1. Because our Junior isn’t finally disciplined on his 53rd trial of the same antic.

I always knew this would happen; I just didn’t think it’d happen so soon. I figured that I had a couple more years until my kids began to surpass me in the knowledge venue. I mean, my firstborn is only finishing first grade. I’ve got some time, right?

Whatever. Teach ‘em to read, and it’s all over.

Ever since my husband promised our son a Slurpee for every book in the Chronicles of Narnia series that he finished, my Braveheart-in-training has turned into an Einstein-wanna-be. I’m sure it’s just a phase. So, while it came as a shock to me, it really should have been no surprise at all: my son knows stuff that I don’t know. I overheard him tell his sister that Jupiter has 16 moons and is 11 times bigger than Earth. That was after some jazz about Uranus’ rings. (Uranus has rings?)

Yes, I checked. Yes, he was right. Yes, I’m reading up on it.

He has no clue that I’m shaking in my boots sandals. The truth is, I feel inadequate and overwhelmed sometimes at the task before me: to raise them to be faithful (not necessarily knowledgable).Yet, God chose me to be the mother of children. Not just any children, but these children. He handpicked these precious ones before the foundations of the earth to be here– right here– with me, under my care at this moment in time, so that I could lead them to Jesus.

And for now, that’s all I need to know.

I just read your post on the Nancy Ganz books and was wondering how exactly your family uses the books. My two and six year old would be overwhelmed to sit and listen to all the passages listed and the whole chapter but breaking it up seems like it would destroy the flow. I love the ideas presented and the language used and want to make it work now–not in three years when they are “older”…

Thank you,
Karen

Karen is referring to a commentary series for children written by Nancy Ganz that I mentioned in passing on an earlier post. So far, commentaries on Genesis, Exodus, and Leviticus are in print, and more books in sequence are due in the fall I hear.

Now, by answering her question online here, I don’t want to give the impression that the way we “do” family devotions is the only way or even the “right” way. It’s just our way. Each family is unique and each father’s gifting in how he teaches his children is different. To women, I say, do what you can to make him succeed.

To say why we choose to use the Ganz books, I have to back up and mention our earlier beginnings. When we married, Greg decided that family worship would be one of the rituals that we developed into our family culture. As a married couple, this was pretty easy as there were only two people to coordinate, and for the most part, we were able to sit still through the ordeal.

We had some fits and starts. I remember sitting at the table in our rental house on the lake and wanting to love what we were doing but being totally bored out of my mind with a very old and dry commentary on Revelation. I hope that the first time he knows of my boredom is when he reads this post later today. I’ve always tried to encourage and appreciate any effort –whether it succeeds or not—that my husband extends in moving our family toward godliness.

Later on, we got into a good routine of reading John Piper’s series titled, A Godward Life. They are short Scripture-saturated essays that stimulated much discussion (and prayer) late into the night.

When the children began arriving, we used a children’s bible, prayer, and singing as our nightly routine. Over time, however, we began questioning the use of a children’s Bible storybook as the best use of time. Since faith comes by hearing the Word, using a children’s book can not be a substitute for the Bible. Yes, our children liked the pictures and (very) loose paraphrase, but our goals for that time at night could only be met by reading real Scripture.

This is where Karen’s question comes in. How do you get them to listen?

I remember a dilemma I encountered teaching first grade in the public school system before I had my first son. After lunch and playground time when all the kindergarteners usually took their naps, I had the kids find a quiet spot on the floor while I read for fifteen minutes from a chapter book. I chose The Boxcar Children for its ease of reading, simple vocabulary, and interesting story line. As many techniques as I employed, the children just wouldn’t listen. I’d tried everything. The bottom line was that they were simply bored and uninterested in such a thing.

As parents, however, I’m convinced that a child’s interest in reading is in direct proportion to how much they read themselves and/or are read to. This is especially true in the young years, as you are establishing habits (or a culture, if you will). Sesame Street will not establish a love of reading in children.

Now, I remember a few years back that my husband would read aloud a chapter book that was above their ability. This was after devotions but before bedtime. The “rule” was: if you could listen quietly –hanging off the side of the couch or playing Legos on the floor—then you could stay up late instead of going to bed. Everyone always chose to stay up. I think this was a key part in creating an atmosphere of listening to read alouds, while expanding their vocabulary and propensity for such things.

To be more specific, we break up some of the chapters in the Ganz books, as they are too much for all of us to digest. Some of them would take an hour just to read the text, leaving no time for Scripture and prayer. Over time, we’ve learned to ad lib, adjust, and use the book as a tool instead of a program.

Now, our preschooler has never experienced the kiddie bible storybooks; she has just grown up with our present routine. Additionally, Baby Energizer will never know any different, and she does well too. I want to say here that nobody sits in hardback chairs with their hands folded and a stern look on their face. It’s just a natural part of family life that our kids protest if we happen to miss.

There are multiple opportunities in the life of a mother to laugh. They’re just hard to see sometimes. The reason I don’t have a merry heart at times is because usually, as a mother, I’m too busy naming the mishap as a crisis, a disaster, a “hurry-and-get-me-a-mop-and-a-bottle-of-disinfectant” sort of thing.

Now, there are times when disasters really do occur, but so long as the bodies under my care are in tip-top condition and their spirits aren’t crushed, well, everything else is just blog material. You know?

Take our science experiment last week. It was a disaster, er…I mean, a great opportunity that Candid Camera missed. It had something to do with mixing cocoa powder in water, dissolving salt in water, and pouring the salt mixture through a filter into the cocoa mixture. Then tasting it.

Yeah, we didn’t get it either.

I even walked outside to where my very own rocket scientist was concocting chemical potions to ask him for his expertise in solving the mystery of the kiddie science project gone bad. He didn’t get it either.

[He protests now that I’ve written this, that he wasn’t given the benefit of full information. But since I don’t want to ruin the story, I’ll leave that out.]

In case you’re wondering, this isn’t Chem II; we’re only on third grade science. Why would I order a teacher’s manual for elementary science when there’s a rocket scientist on site? I was thinking that I wouldn’t need an answer key until fourth grade. Yeah, not until fourth grade. Furthermore, this is just icing and side stuff, as I stick to reading, writing, and arithmetic during the “regular” school year. (Frequently feeding the personal scientist his protein is even cheaper than some of these teacher manuals. Have you priced any lately?)

So, the experiment was a let down. The kitchen was a disaster, er…I mean, opportunity for a mama to show some grace and humor, as I allowed the kids to set up the experiment while I attended to the baby. There were measuring cups of every size on the counter, cocoa powder spilled on the floor, water puddles on various surfaces, and rags haphazardly positioned on other food spills. (The hard-at-work budding experimentists must have needed a few snacks as brain fuel.) So, now, the kitchen was a mess, and to top it off, we didn’t even learn anything.

Except that sometimes there are more important things to learn and be thankful for.

By the way, I’m plunking down the extra dough for the teacher’s manual next year.

My firstborn, a seven-year-old son and my husband’s namesake, is a pretty good kid. In fact, since I’m his mom and haven’t yet bragged on him in this weblog, I have to say that he’s more than “pretty good”; I was just trying to be humble that first time I said it. He’s gentle and kind with his sisters, not provoking them to too much wrath. He’s rooting for a brother just so he can have someone to share his room with. He’s not a sissy and often takes the initiative with work. And though he is yet only the tender age of seven, I have someone that I can really depend on. He’s done a few foolish things in his time, but he is not a fool. His nightly prayers for wisdom are being heard.

But I’m writing to say that I give up on him. He has a habit that no matter what steps we take, still persists. I’ve found him engaging in this activity late at night, early in the morning, and many hours throughout the day. What is it? Reading. I’m not kidding: he won’t stop. I complained to my husband yesterday, “Do you know how dumb this sounds? ‘Honey, stop reading and get back to your schoolwork.’” My husband agreed that this sounded bad, but what do you do?

In an “About Me” speech that my son composed, he wrote, “I’d rather read fifty books than have to write one word.” His penmanship and fine motor skills are adequate; he is not suffering from a learning disability or anything of the sort. Just a motivation disability. He leaves the room under the guise of needing some quiet to do his language and math work, gets stuck on a problem, then pulls out a book until I wander by and ask, “Why aren’t you finished?”

Because he shoulders more responsibility than his younger sisters (but not unreasonably so), he also receives more privileges than the younger ones. I believe this is one of the keys to not provoking our children or causing them to become bitter against us. Because he handles responsibility maturely, he receives the same in kind: later bedtimes, more trust, and the extra cherry that I’ll slip him under the table occasionally throughout the day. And so, after family worship and a nightly read-aloud, the three girls will be sent to bed while he hangs off the couch upside-down with a bowl of ice cream (sometimes) while my husband reads a G. A. Henty novel aloud. Then they’ll get on the internet and look for a picture of one of the ancient ships the novel spoke about while I moan, “Don’t ya’ll think it’s late?”

Now the girls are crazy about books too. If I dump a new pile of books on the family room floor, based on the screaming and excitement, you’d think you were at a modern day Sponge Bob birthday party. But the girls aren’t obsessed like my son. And so, while I acknowledge there are worse obsessions, I pray along with my son for wisdom in how best to mother them all.

Just this weekend, my two oldest (ages 7 and 5 ½) came downstairs for a drink break and my son lamented, “This house is junk.”

“Yeah, the people that built this house didn’t know anything,” continued my daughter.

Wanting to adjust their view of God’s gracious providence, I almost commenced with a “Now, now…” speech. But then I realized that they were working upstairs on remodeling the bathroom with my husband, and so I knew where they got their propaganda.

While my husband is the eternal optimist in our marriage, he does possess a keen radar and scathing commentary for shoddy workmanship. Not that I blame him. One time he took down a wall in our kitchen to look for termites. Not uncovering any termites there, instead, he found that the previous owners had repaired former damage themselves and forgot (?!?) to put insulation back in the wall and left open access to the outside. Without the drywall, you could see sunlight. Even I knew that you aren’t supposed to do that.

Then there is the fact that the original owners designed the house themselves and probably should have spent a few dollars getting an architect to look at the plans. But back to the bathroom remodeling job: they put the cabinets in before the tile and baseboards. The reason why this is bad is because when the new owners need to replace the water-damaged cabinets and countertops, said owners will tear out the old cabinets and find no flooring underneath them, setting the project back a few hours. Besides, it’s just not right.

The reason why we are tackling the bathroom now (beside the fact that it needs to be done) is because it just doesn’t feel right living in The Scott House without at least one room completely under construction. It’s been almost a whole month without anything torn apart, and it just wasn’t right having the house in one piece. We buy houses for their basic structure. The walls, ceilings, doorways, counters, and flooring are all peripheral. They’re just details.

And so, the kids grab two glasses of water and an extra one for their dad. While I cast a cursory glance at their math books, they return to their father’s side, where they acquire their real education.

My husband, who reads my blog, says that I have horrible grammar. He tells me that sometimes my word choice is bad and that my sentence structure needs restructuring. It’s a good thing I’m not overly sensitive.

In my defense, I usually point out that I’m writing a blog, not a book, and that in order to post something within the lingering 32 minutes of naptime, you just have to take the unpolished version. In addition, I know that I shouldn’t end a sentence with a preposition, but truthfully, I don’t know how to fix it. But I like the first excuse better.

Yes, I am the mother, the teacher, the educator of my husband’s offspring. (Poor word choice?) I am the one who sees to it that his son reads well, his daughter writes well, and that his preschoolers color well. In the future, I will be teaching all of them about prepositions, times tables, and photosynthesis.

I will also (theoretically) teach them not to switch verb tenses in the middle of a sentence. My husband says I do that all the time, too.

Hi Amy, I am just starting to homeschool and I was wondering what kinds of things you do. Do you use a curriculum or use a variety of methods? I know there is a lot out there to choose from. It can be overwhelming. My kids are 5 1/2, 3 1/2, and 10 months. The older 2 are doing pretty well with reading already. Any thoughts? ~ Wendy

For over a year of typing here, I’ve never mentioned our homeschool method or philosophy. I hear you’re supposed to stick to writing on things you know about.

Education, however, is a subject I should know something about. I am a homeschool graduate. [Insert all sarcastic jokes here.] If that’s not enough, I’m one of those “professionals.” In other words, I have a piece of paper from the state of Florida that says I can educate kids. In theory, this means that I have an education since my degree is in education, but that isn’t necessarily so. Educated people know about prepositions and verb tenses. I’m sure of this.

But truly educated people possess more than a working knowledge of verb agreement; they possess wisdom. The goal of our children’s education is that they gain wisdom. This is done by teaching them God’s character (as revealed in the Bible) and what God requires of them. This is why I consider myself still learning, still growing. Educating requires more than just doing the opposite of what I was taught in a public university’s School of Education (though, one could get far on that method), rather, it requires renewing one’s mind according to God’s Word.

In order to choose a curriculum, you must have a goal. What do you want your children to learn? If you answer the “what and why,” the “how” becomes more obvious.

For us (and this is particular to our family), a focus on the “three R’s” during the primary years is a good method (but it is not the end). Right now, we use Rod and Staff for language and Saxon for math. The children also keep a journal. I keep things simple so that they have many opportunities to read, read, and read some more all day long. In the very early years, I did nothing but read aloud to them. Now that I have a seven and a six-year-old, they take over a lot of the read aloud time to the little ones.

We keep a simple schedule and stay home a lot. This is not only to save time, money, and energy, but also because a simple schedule allows for evening devotions, family time, and read alouds. This is the core of our curriculum, the primary means by which we disciple our children. Nobody imagines we’re doing “school” when Dad reads aloud from a chapter book, the family prays, and we hear a chapter from the Bible.

My son took a day off “school” this week and began repairing a riding lawn mower, salvaged from a neighbor’s trash. He wants to convert it to a go-cart, but my husband has visions of a new Lawn Boy in his head. Either way, the professionals disagree with me, but I think small engine repair with Dad is more useful than whatever is going on in second grade science chapter 5. We do read science books, but we don’t follow a formal science curriculum. We read G.A. Henty books, but we don’t have a formal history curriculum. This is what works for us.

Because of the lawn mower project and my husband’s plan to build a shed from scratch next month, my son got his first set of real tools. The curriculum, of course, is not just engine repair or building construction, but ultimately, family repair. Dad is teaching his son that a man takes responsibility for his family and works hard. The method is repairing engines and building things, but the agenda is always there, always underlying everything we do: be the man (or woman) that God has called you to be. Get wisdom. Work hard. Love God.

While there is more than one way to skin a cat, this is our current method. When it stops working, we’ll reevaluate. In the meantime, I’ll be picking up a good book on English grammar, and I’ll use my degree as a bookmark.

Every club has their “one question.” Here’s what I mean. If you’re into CB radios, the question is, “What’s your handle?” If you find yourself in the slammer, you ask, “So, what-are-you-in-for?” College kids ask each other about their major. And if you find yourself at the mercy of a group of homeschool moms, the question is, “What’s your method?” [Dun, dun, dun, dunnnnn.]

Yes, I’m a homeschool mom, but it’s only because I happen to homeschool my kids. It’s not because I wear denim jumpers and bore people with mono-discussion about curriculums. (I drive a large white van, but we’ll keep that part a secret.) I like talking with homeschool moms about things of substance, but in order to get there, it’s an official requirement to ask another homeschooler about their method.

So, it came as no surprise when walking the crowded halls at the FPEA convention that The Old Schoolhouse editor, Jen Ig, asked me about The Method. It’s weird that I don’t have a canned response for The Method, so I gave her a thoughtful, reflective, insightful, and enthusiastic reply instead.

After a lengthy pause, I said, “Ummm.”

Noticing that this isn’t one of the standard methods, someone in our entourage (either Kris or Kate, I can’t remember, so I’ll call her “K”) tried to rescue me from total embarrassment and decided to prime the pump, “You know. Do you school your kids using the Charlotte Mason approach, classical, unit studies….?”

I felt like a doctor without a scalpel. A baker without a spoon. A lawyer without a lie.

So, “K” mercifully allowed me to save face (I only have one side, you know) and gave me my out, “…or do you use an eclectic approach?”

Bingo. The eclectic approach allows us rebel types to shelter under the safety of a respectable label. Yes, the eclectic approach. Just to make sure, I took an online quiz last night to see What Kind of Homeschooler Are You.

I ended up with the Unit Study label. I felt like a fraud.

I’m not sure we’ve ever done a unit study before. We don’t even have a Konos catalog.

Since we agree that education is conversation and that wisdom begins with the fear of the Lord, I’d like to contemplate the Deuteronomy 6 Method of Education. It means that we read good books and talk about them. It means that when my husband found a cocoon yesterday, that we examined it and held an impromptu unit study. It means that we talk and tell and practice God’s ways from the time they are born. (And that we apologize when we do not, which is often.) We teach the three R’s and use the same books you do.

We also like to start ‘em young and use all our available resources:

In the end though, Jen Ig and K, that does sound kind of eclectic. I think I got it all sorted out now. I’m going to be ready fer ya next time.

So we get home with the kids’ new loot, and my #2 and #3 kids want to start school. As in– now. Kid #1 is a boy, so I don’t have to explain that he’s up in a tree somewhere.

“No,” I protest, “Wait until it’s really time for school. We’re on summer break, remember?” Holy smokes, folks. I just finished out the year last week. Cut the Proverbs 31 lady some slack, eh?

“But we want to do our new books today, please? Please?!!!” If I would’ve trained my children properly, they would’ve replaced their constant begging with “May-I-make-an-appeals” but you already know we fall short.

I don’t want them to crease their brand new books. I want to begin the next year… sometime around next year. I want to sharpen pencils, have color-coded dividers, and laminate their bookmarks. Only in a homeschool house do you have the kids begging to do school, while the crazy mom yells, “No! No, no, no! You will NOT do school.” Let me paint my toes, reaffirm the battle cry against secular humanism, grab a bon-bon— and please-for-goodness-sakes, let’s have a summer vacation.

It did occur to me that my thinking was utterly ridiculous. So, we took the early morning off, and the girls broke in their new books by lunchtime. We did go swimming later that evening, though.

Also seen lugging uncreased books around, the delightful Homeschool Blogger community meets up in the food court:

I wore “the infamous shirt” for easy identification purposes. It worked. The Old Schoolhouse gave me a new Homeschool Blogger t-shirt in sympathy.

Not trying to alienate my non-homeschooling friends, but I get asked this question a lot. Plus, it’s an easy post to answer, as all I have to do is copy and paste the question from my email box and the answer from my desktop schedule. I only mentioned that I homeschooled for the first time last month (I believe), and now I’m out of control with the homeschooling posts. (How many times can I say it? Homeschool. Homeschool. Homeschool.) It’s one of the things everyone just assumed about me—kind of like the cloth diaper thing.

I’ve never contacted you or left a comment, but I was just curious about your last blog about purchasing new homeschooling books. I will be starting to homeschool my 3 children this fall, after a couple of years in public school. (My oldest son will be in gr. 4 this fall, my daughter will be going into gr. 2 and youngest little guy starting Kindergarten) I was just wondering which books you did purchase. There is so much choice out there. I’ve looked up the websites and find it tough when you don’t get to see the product. Anyway, I’m getting long winded (lol), but if you have a chance, could you please let me know which ones you’d recommend or have heard others recommend. I truly appreciate it. Thanks again for your honesty and humour on your blog. God richly bless you and your family.

Natasha
Calgary, Alberta, Canada

Third Grade

Math: MCP (Book C)

Reading & Grammar: Pathway Readers and worktexts, Chapter Books

Vocabulary: Wordly Wise 3000 B

Spelling: Spelling Workout C

First/ Second Grade

Math: MCP (Book B)

Reading & Grammar: Pathway Readers and worktexts, Chapter Books

Vocabulary: Wordly Wise 3000 A

Spelling: Spelling Workout B

Kindergarten

Phonics: MCP. Level A and Bob Books

Math: Bob Jones, K5

Other stuff laying around:

Art: How to Draw

Science: God’s Design for Life series, Electricity kit, stuff with my husband

History: From Sea to Shining Sea, History Stories for Children, Your Story Hour CD’s, etc., etc., etc.

Logic: Critical Thinking Books

These aren’t the best choices out there necessarily. Just the best choices for our family at the moment. (I think. I hope.) I don’t buy teacher guides, so what we do might look very different from anyone else who uses the same material. I’m sure others will have lots and lots of advice for you. (1-2-3–Brace yourself.) Get your non-consumable texts used, so you don’t feel so bad when you ditch it in the middle of the year. Or in the middle of the first week.

Just another thought— do what it takes to enjoy your first year. Your kids won’t turn ADD if you don’t do Spelling for a year. Organize the day so that there is plenty of time for Bible and devotions in the evening with your husband. Everything else is just fluff.

OK. I’m almost done with the homeschool, homeschool, homeschool stuff. I have some books on the subject to review soon, and some free ones for a few lucky providentially chosen readers too! I can tell you can hardly wait.

(I’m working my way through the email on blueberries, birth control, and babies slowly. Be patient. I have a house to run and all.) That’s it for now.

The blah, blah, blah, blahhhhh curriculum post has now ended. Everyone say, “Amen.”

p.s. I sold my cloth diapers on Ebay when we bought a two-story house.

I will be scarce online for a week or two. We’ll be busy for several days, but I look forward to posting more regularly in August. I will still update the side blog as I get a chance. On my reading list are a few books by John Taylor Gatto: Dumbing Us Down: The Hidden Curriculum of Compulsory Schooling (1992), A Different Kind of Teacher (2000); and The Underground History Of American Education (2001).

There might be more interesting books I could be reading, but I can’t think of any.

Are any of you homeschool moms tired already? I know, it’s only September. The new pack of Crayola isn’t even destroyed yet. In his book, Lies Homeschooling Moms Believe, author and father of seven Todd Wilson describes The Perky Homeschooler:

Todd gave me his book, Lies Homeschooling Moms Believe, to give to someone out there. It’s a pick-me-up, for sure. Leave a comment or drop me an email, and I’ll pick a random winner on Monday. To enter twice, link!

We exist to worship God, in our thoughts, words, and deeds. Our joy is rooted in a right relationship with Him…How much of our weariness is related to chasing after things wholly unrelated to glorifying God? ~Jane Bentley

The above link is a .pdf document. Just click on the link and print. It’s that easy.