In Real Life...

We rarely follow the plans as written. In real life, my days look nothing like my iCal pages. Oh, I love the plans. They are like good recipes. I gather the ingredients, tinkering a bit to take advantage of what looks freshest and best at the grocery store. I glance through the directions and do what seems best at the time. And usually, whatever we're cooking comes out well. Cooking is an art, you know, with a little science sprinkled in with love. So, too, raising and educating children is an art. When it comes to our homeschooling days, I write the plans, but I don't become attached to them.

Because I do become attached to the children.

On Monday, iCal called for Outdoor Hour. Have you tried these? What absolutely wonderful gifts they are! We're on a roll with them this fall. Barb makes the Handbook of Nature Study come alive for us and graciously offers free guidance that is priceless. Everyone is enthusiastic.

We headed out to our new favorite, very local spot (we walked) and spent a pleasant time drawing. I had to drag the boys away because of an urgent girl potty issue. On  the walk home, the littlest girls each fell asleep in a stroller. We wheeled both strollers into the house and let them snooze. I seized the quiet opportunity to read William Shakespeare and the Globe to all children still awake. [Note to those who have followed my iCal plans previously: "School" didn't happen in any meaningful way on Friday of Birthday Week and I slid last Friday's plans to Monday. ]

My plans called for children to create a diorama of the Globe Theatre. Somehow, in my keeping room, those plans morphed. Big boys became team captains; teams were picked; cardboard, duct tape,  craft paint and glue guns were sequestered to opposite corners of the house. Daddy was named Judge. A deadline of three weeks hence was set. One child was frantically researching on his iPod Touch. Another was printing madly from the computer upstairs. A hush fell. And then the man arrived to deliver the dishwasher.

The man barely stepped from his truck before competing teams of children were begging for appliance boxes. Wise man, he gave them the box from our dishwasher and then stripped the box from another. More quiet.

Big boys left for soccer. I slipped out with a lone ballerina. I left her at dance and spent 33 minutes alone, in the quiet, at Adoration. Not that I was counting minutes or anything. What a beautiful gift quiet with Jesus is!

After I gathered my dancer and a week's worth of groceries for a family of eleven, I returned home. Globe Theatre construction resumed after dinner and continued well into the night. I went to sleep thinking what a perfect day it was: nature, Shakespeare, Adoration, soccer and dance. A good meal. A quiet night. What more could I have wanted?

Don't answer that. I know there was no math, no Latin, no grammar, no time whatsoever at a desk. But really, truly, it was perfect in my book. A day when seven children from 3-17 are meaningfully engaged and working together all day long? How often does that happen?

The next day, while I hustled three sick children to the doctor, the children at home ignored my plans and kept right on working on those Theatre dioramas. There was a brief skirmish over toothpicks that resulted in my emergency trip to the grocery store, but mostly, work was steady. I thought about the iCal plans. Tuesday is our heavy geography block day.  This Tuesday was about scale drawings, popsicle stick construction standards, and wee felt actors.

Truth is, my days rarely look like the pages of Serendipity. They are not that neat. They are not that beautiful. They are not that full. Well, maybe they are that full but not in the way they look there. We pick and choose from the plans and the books. I hope you do, too, as I think it would be near impossible to do them as written. We change things out and abandon things that don't work and add things that work better. We abandon the plans altogether to binge on a great project.

"Simplicity" seems to be a goaland a virtue in pockets of  the blogosphere. For some people, simplicity is next to godliness from what I can tell. Things aren't simple here. At least, when I put my head on the pillow at night, in the three seconds before I fall asleep, they don't seem simple. There's is a lot going on.

A few weeks ago I read an authoritative email that declared that the secret to homeschooling success was to never, ever deviate from the curriculum as written. This seems foolish advice to me. If you are using my curriculum, please, please consider it in light of your children and your home and your energy level. Please use your common sense and your mama-wisdom. Please don't attempt to do it all. And please, if you find a better way to do it, write and let me know. I might just do it that way, too. 

Along those lines, here are some tweaks I've not yet had time to tell you about:

  • Mary Beth abandoned Botany in a Day for Apologia Botany. The new notebooks offered by Apologia are just amazing! She is creating a beautiful notebook and doing all the activities and experiments and thoroughly enjoying Jeannie Fulbright's style. With the addition of the other living books in the Young Ladies' Curriculum and nature study, this is a very full botany course. And yes, Jen has the Ivy Basket all written and ready for you. She's waiting on me to finish my pages before we  post. I'm getting to it, I promise. Pray I get the gift of writing time with Mary Beth.
  • Patrick, Stephen, and Nicholas are using Apologia Astronomy. Patrick is reading from MacBeth's astronomy suggestions. And we will also add this very full Teaching Company course to the study. I hadn't planned on Astronomy at all. The boys asked for it when they were unable to answer a trivia question Mike posed at the dinner table just after the school year began.  
  • We haven't forgotten about the Writer's Workshop. Esther Hershenhorn, the author of S is for Story, contacted me when she learned of our plans to use her book. She was very interested in our ideas to create workshops using S is for Story. The book arrived just a couple of days after Bryce died. The author, who is just lovely, suggested that I might find these mini-workshops (click on Young Writer Extras) helpful while I wait for Colleen to join me again in writing on Serendipity. I do! Maybe you will like them, too? It's really nice when people who believe in sharing the joy of teaching reach out to each other and help in a time of need. Colleen was touched by the kindness of this stranger and so was I.
  • Our Alphabet Path travels this year are mainly focused upon the Author Studies and the Science Trails, since Katie has already traveled the Path twice. However, we are truly enjoying the inspiration of gifted teachers like Jessica and Blair this time around. It's fun to see how beautifully the plans come to life in the talented hands of those ladies. I find myself having to refrain from wanting to do it all;-).
  • Speaking of Jessica, we're loving the Little Flowers notebook pages! We use Little Flowers here at home and these pages are just wonderful. We aren't such good Little Flowers crafters and I don't always get to the edible goodies, but I'm sure glad to have Jessica's ideas to add to our days.
  • The big boys are doing our geography studies along with us. I can't handle three different high school programs to supervise. I need to keep my boys close. Works better that way. I'm way out of writing time now. Maybe another day, I'll share how it all looks. Basically, we're taking books from the Sonlight high school lists and matching them with the geographical regions we're studying. All the plans are there; it's a pretty simple thing to pull what works for each kid.

And now, I truly must go. Gosh, it was nice to blog again. I had no intention of writing so long this morning. God's good; it's happy to be here.  Thanks for listening.

Blessings on your day!

Little Miss Sunshine

She hears we're going on an outing and she hurries up to get dressed. On goes a carefully considered T-shirt with a crocheted shrug over it, embroidered jeans, pretty socks and sparkly shoes. She pulls her curls up so that they cascade down the back of her neck. She checks the mirror and scampers into the van. We arrive at our destination just a few minutes later. With the baby on my hip and Nicholas following behind, we follow her into the office. "I'm here," she calls out to the receptionist, "but I'm not sick. Nicky's sick. And maybe Sarah Annie. I'm just visiting."

I think the nurse might burst out laughing, but she manages to stifle it. The receptionist gives in to the giggle. The children are weighed and measured and temperatures checked. The doctor arrives. He asks Karoline how she is and is met with a full report of the last week, including every cake baked, a full accounting of Cox Farms and the hayride, and the happy news of her trip to Red Robin, complete with a rendition of the birthday song. Now we're all smiling from ear to ear.

By the time we leave with $200 worth of prescriptions, it's confirmed that Karoline has an ear infection and a fever, among other things. She gathers her stickers (and a few extras for Katie).

"Good-bye. I'll see you later. Thanks for having me!"

I don't think the sun has ever shone so brightly in that office.

Daybook: October 5th

Outside my window::

::we have been enjoying glorious autumn weather. The days have truly been golden and the nights are a little crisp. 

 I am listening to::

::silence. It's early and not even the dryer is singing yet.

I am wearing ::

::a very old McLean Celtic sweatshirt and yoga pants. The sweatshirt was Michael's when he played on the Celtic. When the team graduated, the name was recycled and now Stephen is a Celtic. I fell asleep wearing these clothes last night, after Mass, atrium, three soccer games, a visit with a very dear friend,  and Karoline's birthday celebration. They are not my fashion statement for the day.

To be Fit and Happy::

:: I survived birthday week and my jeans still fit. I confirmed that sugar is not my friend.

I am thankful for::

::being healthy enough to make four birthdays as perfect as possible for four children in the same week.

I am pondering ::

::"We are called to be witnesses, not lawyers." ~from a local church billboard

I am reading ::

::a wonderful book that is not yet published. I have been blessed by the author throughout my motherhood journey and I consider this advance copy of her new book to be God's provision. I can't thank her enough for the honor of reading it now (when I so need it) and I am very eager to share it with you soon.

From the kitchen::

::anything but cake!


I am creating ::

::new lists. We travel to the beach for a tournament this weekend.

On my iPod::

:: It's what's on TV this week: First, I have a small, unique problem. Three years ago, Mike took a job at ESPN in a Washington. One of his duties was taking the two studio shows on the road every Monday to shoot live on location at Monday Night Football. He was gone about four days a week. In order to stay connected and be supportive, we launched Monday Night Geography and we developed a Monday Night Football habit that included the pre-game and the game itself. Due to budget cuts, they aren't traveling the studio shows this year. That's great news: he's home! The bad news is that when he gets home from work, he's not much in the mood to watch ESPN. I've  more or less accepted this silently the past few weeks, but tonight's different. Tonight, Brett Favre plays Green Bay. I've been a Brett Favre fan since before either of us were gray. I stayed Brett Favre fan even though he's made a fool of himself. We have to watch football tonight.

::and, Jim and Pam get married on an hour-long Office on Thursday!

Towards a real eduction::

::Considering all the celebrating last week, we managed to stay pretty much on target. This will be a short week because we'll travel on Friday.

Towards rhythm and beauty::

::I was so overwhelmed when I first looked at what had to be accomplished this fall. It seemed there was no room for margin at all. I laid it all out in iCal and about suffocated with the reality. But iCal isn't the reality. In reality, we don't live inside those time-boxes. They are helpful for planning purposes and they keep me honest and on task, but life is much more fluid than they are and that's a very good thing.

To Live the Liturgy::

::This week, we celebrate Our Lady of the Rosary. My kids want to do a cupcake rosary. There's absolutely no chance of that. None. No. More. Cake. 

I am hoping and praying::

::for a happy outcome for a long-prayed family intention this week. Still.  If you have a moment, won't you pray with us? I would be so grateful.

In the Garden::

::pansies should go in this week.

Around the House::

::we picked up little pumpkins when we visited Cox Farms last week. I got St. Therese flowers on Thursday and Karoline got flowers yesterday. Our garden roses are abundant. The house is full of color.

On Keeping Home::

::Truly, I need  second wind. I want to leave things very orderly when we go to the tournament this weekend. I also want to cook ahead so we don't eat out the whole time we're there. 

One of my favorite things::

::little boys with fresh haircuts. It's so hard not to just keep kissing their necks.

Sarah Anne this week::

::Still not crawling. Not even close. But she pulls herself to standing and she waves and says "bye." She's eating a little better--but not much. She's just Sarah, on her own timetable.

How's the burnout recovery going?

::Smile. I think I have moved from "recovery" to "prevention." A few days at the beach will do nicely, don't you think?

A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week::

:: I'm going to kick back and relax after Birthday Week. I going to plan and pack and cook for a Virginia Beach tournament. We'll stop and see my friend Jan in Richmond on the way down:-). It will be a very busy soccer weekend, but the ocean will beckon for some real R&R as well.

 A  Picture Thought I'm Sharing:

This is the beautiful sight of a new dishwasher being delivered to the Foss house. Do you know how many weeks you have to go without a dishwasher over the course of three years, how many times you have to wait for parts and repairs before Sears decides that yes, indeed, you have a lemon? I do.

And now, I have a new dishwasher and I'm going to set the table tonight with LOTS of stoneware dishes that will need washing. Not by hand.

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Happy Birthday, Sweet Karoline!

The problem with being a writer is that sometimes, words fail. And they fail at the times when I most wish to have them. Today, as I try to capture for you in words the essence of Karoline, words evade me. This child blesses. And blesses. And blesses. Someday, perhaps, I will share the whole story of how she got her name. For today, though, I will tell you that when you ask Karoline her name, she says it with sweet certainty: Karoline Rose. And when you ask her why she is named that, she says, "Because Mommy asked for a heavenly rose and St. Therese sent me!" She is so delighted by the awareness that she was an answer to prayer. I am still so amazed at how glorious this rose is.

Happy birthday, sweet rose of mine.

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Happy, Happy Birthday, Patrick!

Dear Patrick,

How happy are you this morning? We've put Fourteen behind us! It is my well-considered opinion that Fourteen is the most miserable age in the world for boys. And their mothers. And since, with you, everything is done in the superlative, Fourteen was pretty much the awfulest wasn't it?

Your Fourteenth birthday found you at odds with the world and me on bedrest, fairly powerless to help you navigate. We were knocked from our usual positions--with me behind the steering wheel and you navigating and entertaining in the seat beside me--and life was a bit chaotic for the first season of your Fourteenth year. I never thought I'd miss driving to soccer practice, but I did. Because I missed you. I missed the conversations that always began, "Hey Mom..." And I had a sense those conversations would never be the same.

After Sarah was born and I returned to my designated driving duties, you were silent. Fourteen had taken its grip and you were gloomy and pensive to the point of being unrecognizable. Gone was my angelic clown. Instead, we had Fourteen and all its ugliness and all its angry questions. You challenged the world in the dark winter of your Fourteenth year. You questioned everything and found most of the answers lacking. You stormed. Your eyes, once windows into sweet promise, darkened and flashed. And I was sad.

I missed you. I had seen Fourteen before, and I had great hope in what was to come, but for that time, I missed my darling little boy. Then came the spring. Honestly, I think Lori saw it first. From behind the lens of the camera, that day in the bluebells, she saw glimpses of the future. She captured images of the young man who was emerging in the springtime from the crucible of Fourteen. Her pictures gave us hope--both you and me. You didn't like being stuck there in Fourteen and you began to miss us.

Life moved along and on a glorious, victorious spring day, you saw that God was your own personal friend. Jesus became real and faith came to life again. I thought we'd vanquished Fourteen. The thing about Fourteen, though, is that it's often not just about the storm within; sometimes there is a storm without as well. You headed into a stormy summer the likes of which I could have never imagined. But now, we were united. We were strengthened by the survival of our storms. We were looking forward in faith.

You learned humility. You learned contrition. You learned to be forgiven. You learned who you your friends are. You learned how much Daddy and I love you. And unfortunately, you learned a whole lot about the ugliness of life in the grownup world. We learned beside you, because Fourteen is for parents, too. You handled yourself with strength and grace and dignity. You handled yourself like a man.

Now, we're back in familiar positions. I'm driving and you're talking to me. You're handling the directions, the iPod, the money for the drive-through, the happy conversation. We're celebrating Fifteen for all its worth. I know that we still have changes ahead. It won't be long at all before you're driving and I'm sitting white-knuckled in the seat on your left. Let me tell you a secret about that arrangement: when I sit on your lefthand side, I can hear you all the better (because my left ear actually works and the right one doesn't). So, keep talking. I love to listen to you.

I love you. And I couldn't be more proud of the hard work you've done this year. I couldn't be happier to celebrate with you the utter joy of Fifteen!

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Photo credit: Lori Fowlkes, who has a special gift for helping teens see themselves as God sees them.