Mid-late summer

Here we are, winding down the official summer vacation according to the vast majority of the American world...whatever that is. Around here, we're taking in these final lazy days by being a little less than lazy. I'm actually feeling like a big 'ol slacker these days. Not exactly creating opportunities for us, not really taking full advantage of the freedom that we have homeschooling. We should be doing exciting things, searching for unique learning opportunities, or at the least making use of our weekday freedom, and here I am, doing little more than going to our local pool, playing tennis, and spending too much time in the car according to our audio book count. We're halfway through Silverwing, which is 7 hours long and we just started yesterday, I think. That's bad news for our car time!

Frances has a buddy at gymnastics, a buddy who shares her on again/off again relationship with the sport. Eve and Frances look very similar--tiny with blond bobs--and they are separated during training because they prevent each other from learning with their shenanigans. Story of my life, actually. Nancy and Alison. Count off to find your groups--1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 1.... I am promoting the concept of a "Gymnastics Treat" similar to the old "Ballet Treat" that motivated Frances during the first year when she desperately wanted to take ballet and we had paid for the semester but she kept refusing to actually go out onto the floor with her class. Now she is saying that ballet is her one true love. And it's not as though I insist on gymnastics being her one true love, but darnit, we just ordered the new sky blue sparkly leotard, and it would be nice if she didn't drop out 6 weeks into the year. It is her belief that gymnastics practice prevents her from going to birthday parties and having fun. A misperception that probably isn't helped by the fact that she keeps getting separated from the person who makes gymnastics an entertaining venture for her. But the logic of people trying to get cooperation and "learning" has never been what I'd consider flawless.

Today Ollie has been hooked on www.brainpop.com. He must have watched at least 25 mini-video lessons on topics ranging from internet safety to Adolf Hitler to twins to the Vietnam War to genetic mutations and aliens. He gets a kick out of the quizzes, and with his tenacious memory, this is just the right fit. His amazing desire to scratch the surface of every topic on earth is also fed by the bite sized portions of facts and exposure. Walter...well, he's Walter. He can watch one or two things, miss 8 out of 10 questions on the quiz immediately afterward, but boy can he entertain himself with a boatload of action figures, a tub of Legos, and his quirky imagination. And his openness to new math concepts far outdoes Ollie's whimpering at having to actually do a problem on his own. To combat my own lack of patience, I am implementing a new system where I do the writing again for Ollie's math work and I sit with him in a comfortable spot and we do the problems together. My master plan is to take this approach for as long as makes sense and then transition to him doing more of the work on his own, culminating in him eventually doing the work independently without tears and without my blood pressure rising. I'm realizing this may be further away than I think.

I'm finding myself swinging back toward my longstanding approach to our schooling, which is to have a moderate agenda of my own but to primarily allow the children to direct their own learning and their time in it. One of the primary factors driving this approach for me is the fact that no matter how much I might want to do something like read (or do!) history with Walter, if it isn't sinking in, it isn't sinking in. And if he doesn't want to listen, he doesn't want to listen and is going to be distracting. Trying to force him into the box that I want him in, no matter how attractive the box and how much of a case I can make for him needing to be in it, isn't making any of us happy and isn't making him learn what I'm attempting to force-feed him. He is learning what is important to him, and I'm going to remain by his side and make sure that he receives what he needs to follow what inspires him, and this is enough for now. Will he ever grow up? I don't know. I really don't know at this point. But I can't re-engineer him, and that's a good thing. He's fine being himself.