the days are . . . shiny

for this Muslim-Lebanese-American-Mama-wife-writer-photographer-homeschooler as she juggles one big guy and two little ones.

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... homeschooling

homeschooling and fanboy-ism

Nathan says there is a certain “fanboy-ism” to people’s response to homeschooling: people were forced to endure school so they believe our children must be forced to endure it, too. I find this type of thinking to be sad and disheartening.

We put a lot of hope in the Montessori method, preparing ourselves mentally for a huge financial sacrifice if the school turned out to fit Noah’s learning needs. When it didn’t, I was crushed. I really wanted to see Noah thrive. Once I accepted that he was withering instead, I got over it and embraced our original goal: homeschooling.

What I’d really like to do is unschool Noah, and we are currently in the deschooling process. I think it will take a long time to free Noah from the trauma of having been to school. Fortunately, Montessori teaches children to uncover and pursue their own interests through repetition and extension of focus. At this point, it’s all about finding a balance between home and television–it’s easy to rely on a TV when your child doesn’t read on his own yet and is generally cranky in the afternoons.

If you are interested in learning more about unschooling and what a typical day and week would look like, read this article. Read the comments as well–you’ll see what I’m referring to above. Take some time to peruse the site, Family Hack , as well. When I come across resources and articles like these, I’m only more excited to be a homeschooler.

loving and leaving montessori (part 3)

Or is this Part 4? I don’t know.

We’ve finally slipped back into a schedule. What with all the ear infections and other illnesses raging in little bodies, we’ve been lucky if our day resembles anything more than the tattered end of a dirty binky. But we have made it, thank God!

I can only believe this shift is positively affecting Noah in his adjustment to not being in school. He loved the challenges Montessori was offering him. I’m sad to say he spends a good hour or more watching Dora or some other semi-educational preschool TV program daily. I wish it could be otherwise, but he’s able to deal with TV screens now, and there’s my sanity to consider. So, when Gabriel naps, Noah has his own enjoyable rest sanctuary under a blanket on the couch. I get to do things like type this blog. Mostly, I’ve been pulling our finances together and working on my writing. (Have you visited The Spire?)

Back to why I believe this is positively affecting Noah: Today, he was able to play with his friends from Montessori during the GymPlay we attend Wednesday mornings. We have a regular playdate Wednesday and Friday, but today he stepped outside of that and engaged one of the girls who was extremely fond of him when he attended BMS. (Every time we saw her, she would shout, “NOAH!” with unadulterated glee. They were so involved the other kids at GymPlay disappeared. They kept going off together to have kid conversations, the girl’s mother and I wondering what they were talking about and how it could possibly make any sense to them since we can’t make heads or tails of what they tell us.

Noah tells me he wants to go to Montessori again. He doesn’t tell me every day, and if he returned (which he won’t-they’re already replaced him and we don’t want to send him anywhere five days a week), he would have to attend every day. I know he wouldn’t like that. We are still open to the YMCA two afternoons per week. We’re keeping it in mind for next Fall. Perhaps.

A large influence Montessori has had on us is with use of independent learning. We now have a “work period” each day where Noah and I engage one another in letter writing, telling time, shapes/sizes/colors and sequencing, handwriting, and more. There is also a period where Noah chooses and performs “work” on his own. We have several small activities that he can do, including drawing and writing his name (which he does backwards and often upside down). Most of all, I recognize Noah’s ability to meet his own needs. This morning, he got out a stepladder, pulled the cookie contained out of it’s hiding place in the microwave, and fed himself and Gabriel each a cookie. The cookies are now hidden elsewhere.

A sample day:

8 Breakfast, coffee, cleanup

9 free play downstairs

9:30 upstairs to the Work Room for letter writing, reading, name practice and open work

10 snack and continued work

11:30 lunch

12 free play downstairs

1 Gabriel’s nap, snack for Noah and 20 minutes computer time (Reader Rabbit)

1:30 Dora or other preschool programs on TV until G wakes up while I make calls, work on writing, pay bills, etc.

2:30 everyone fights with each other

3:30 leave for swimming lesson (M/W) or do some other physical activity

4:00 boys play while I tackle dinner

5:00 Nathan comes home, boys enter the witching hours

5:30 dinner, boys play with Nathan

6:30 upstairs for bath/bedtime

This Friday: a picture. Photos are LONG overdue.

i’m seriously going to run out of paper

We set up a work room for Noah. While I’m still struggling to get some learning software on his computer, we’re wandering into the amazingly wealthy world of internet printables. I haven’t seen much, but we did find a nice site this morning for coloring pages and handwriting worksheets. If you’re looking for something to do at home on a snowy day and have a printer, I recommend First-School. They provide entire lessons plans for preschool on theme, letter, number and so on, including Spanish schooling.

the social homeschooler

Noah is only preschool age. Preschool, in my book, is not required. Mostly, it’s just convenient. I could go on about what it is meant to do (prepare children to conform to a lifetime of school expectations), but what I want to talk about here is, since deciding to remove Noah from preschool,  I’ve come across an enormous amount of concern with regards to his success as a person if we should choose to homeschool him. The concern has come from friends and family and is very real. I don’t think it should be slighted. I don’t want to go into some sermon on how studies show homeschooled children to be better equipped in various areas of life than traditionally schooled children. I want to address the fears that intelligent, caring and wonderful people (teachers, friends, family, strangers) have tossed my way.

1. Will we homeschool Noah for the high school years?

I don’t know. How could I possibly know. One day at a time, and if we get to that point and things are going well and he wants to be schooled at home for the high school years, I don’t see why not. There are libraries and websites with huge amounts of information to tap into for this sort of thing. Also, public schools are often required to share their curriculum and resources with home learners. So, sure, there’s no reason why we can’t. By the time Noah reaches high school, I expect that homeschooling during those years will no longer be considered terribly unusual.

2. How will Noah learn to function on a schedule if he’s not in school?

A valid question, especially given that one main reason we decided to pull the plug on Montessori was that Noah was so desperately overwhelmed by the looming school period that he was unable to enjoy or control himself during the mornings.

Well, here’s my answer. There’s no reason Noah can’t learn to arrive on time, or get dressed in the morning, or be prepared to go out. He learns all that without needing to do it every day. I don’t see any need to force him into a stressful situation on a daily basis when he’s only 3, 4 or 5 (or any other time in his childhood). Still, we have quite a weekly routine. It’s the same routine we used pre-Gabriel, and we seem to have fallen back into it.

Monday: Baking, cooking, cleaning at home.

Tuesday: AM appointment, lunch at home, public library, laundry.

Wednesday: Wonderlab, Barnes and Noble story hour, or gym for open play. (choose 1 or 2)

Thursday: Spanish at the Banneker Center (AM), LEARN at Banneker (PM). (LEARN is the local homeschooling community.)

Friday: Playdate with 3 other little boys (AM), Jummah or Parent’s Day Out at the YMCA. (Jummah is difficult because G misses his nap if we go and Noah is still young to follow instructions to stay quiet.)

Dinner together every night, bath every other night, stories at bedtime, in bed by 7:30.

Weekend!

The schedule is flexible, but there are at least 2 items per week that always happen at the same time. Some days are busier than others. We don’t always do everything. Sometimes we choose to pursue a different activity. In January, we will begin a swim class for Noah. I’ll also by starting a class at the YMCA, God willing.

3. How will Noah learn to be social?

This usually comes more as a warning. From Noah’s teacher it was politically expressed as, “The problem for many homeschooled children is that they spend so much time with their parents they don’t learn how to socialize with people of other groups.” From others, less politic, we hear, “He’ll have to learn to function in uncomfortable situations sometime.” We agree. Still, I’m surprised when I meet a stranger at the library or some other place and their shoulders creep up, they fold their arms across their chest, and they eyeball Noah as if he’s deviant or handicapped following my, “We’d like to homeschool.”

Here’s the thing (not that I need to defend my son, but I am the mom and I have a right to get all maternal): Noah’s not stupid or weird. He has difficulty processing a lot of activity (sound, motion, smells). This means he doesn’t tune it out automatically. His shields are down, if you will. We pulled him out of school so we can teach him to put them up. It’s like back pain. A lot of times, it can be prevented with exercise, but you need a safe place to do those exercises, and a coach to help you through it. School was not that place for Noah despite the astounding awesomeness of his teachers.

Let me take this further: What is your phobia? Everybody has one. Maybe it’s more of a tic or a pet peeve. For me, it’s mouth noises. Seriously. People chewing gum? I could shoot them. People talking with a dry mouth? Makes my skin crawl. For others, it’s heights. I also take issue with small spaces. Would you lock me in a small, dark closet for three hours every day to help me learn how to deal with my claustrophobia? Would you make a person afraid of heights stand at the edge of a cliff and stare into an abyss? Would you smack your gum loudly in someone’s ear for an hour if you knew the sound made them shiver and cry? Only if you were a real jerk.

Well, I wouldn’t leave Noah for three hours in a room with 30+ other milling, noisy bodies and expect him to suddenly “get it” or just deal with it. Unlike an adult, he doesn’t have a voice in his head that can tell him, “You don’t need to be afraid of this. It won’t hurt you. Just take a deep breath. You’ll be fine.” We tell him that. When he’s heard it enough, we’ll start to see him bring the wisdom into the group situations he’s regularly (yes, regularly) exposed to. That’s the primary step.

Along with giving him tools to deal with an overwhelming situation, we offer him plenty of opportunity to grow socially. Homeschooled children (again, the term is relative since preschool is unnecessary–and I will have to dedicate a post to what I mean by it at this age) have the unique opportunity to socialize more than traditionally schooled children. For example, one reason we liked Montessori is that Noah was placed in a group of his peers ranging from ages 3-6. There was no artificial environment of children only his age. I say artificial because when in “real” life will he work only with people that share the year of his birth?

Children outside the school setting can interact with children of their age group, children above and below their age group, and adults. They can perform these interactions in a class setting (yes, homeschoolers have classes with other homschoolers), in a play setting, individually, in other groups, via volunteering, through Science, Biography or other fairs, on sport or other teams, or working at a job (as age permits).

Basically, he can learn to conform without going to school. I realize “conform” is a loaded term, but I’m trying to get across that Noah can learn to socialize acceptably–according to the standards/expectations of our society–without sitting at a desk for hours every day in a classroom where he has to ask permission to use the bathroom or is chastised for not standing in line when his very young body is telling him to go, go, go in order to stay healthy and, ultimately, safe. (At Montessori he could go to the bathroom whenever needed, but couldn’t relieve the intense energy he feels as much as he needed.) In short, Noah (or any other child) can learn to be acceptably social, have conversations, attend large or small meetings, defer or take charge, without public schooling. People did it for years before public schooling came about. People do it now. Noah will likely learn it without help, but we’ll help him anyway because that’s our job as parents.

It’s funny; I knew a post in defense of homeschooling would come. I knew it would happen with the issue of socialization. Still, I’m surprised to be writing it now, as our journey is just beginning.

This isn’t aimed at anyone in particular. As I mentioned, we’ve been hearing these concerns from numerous sources–people we don’t even know. And we’ve been finding strangers who share our desire to homeschool. Our group is growing every day. It seems we homeschoolers travel similar circuits, and we’ve all weighed these same concerns that those who haven’t yet considered homeschooling or who find it reprehensible are bringing us.

loving and leaving montessori (part2)

Yesterday was Noah’s first non-school day since this whole preschool debacle began. (I guess that means I’m officially a homeschooler now? Cool!) We had planned a Noah’s (Not Going) Back to School party to ease the process, but to be honest, the process hasn’t required any easing. So it was no big deal when two of the three invitees didn’t show due to illness (hope you’re better Mark and Dean!), and the other had to skip due to moodiness (sorry Rye!). We spent the day doing all the things Noah and I used to do together pre-pregnancy, pre-falling out and pre- pre-school.

I’m not saying I didn’t miss having a bit of time to myself. I most certainly did. Fortunately, Noah’s gotten to a point that he can understand the limits we set on TV consumption, and he is able to come down from the TV high he experiences. I put Gabriel down for a nap (which he elected to scream through), planted Noah in front of the tube with 30 minutes of Bob the Builder (does anyone else sing it “Obama the Builder Yes We Can!” in their heads?), and grabbed a book for some kid detox.

Before we got to that point, we baked a sugar cookie cake with a frosting light bulb. I can only assume Noah’s choice of a light bulb implies his burgeoning genius. Further, school was holding him back. Now that he’s freed from the constraints of the Institution, he will be able to crack his shell, discover intellectual independence, contribute to the sciences in arts in meaningful and previously unconsidered ways, and save the world from pollution. Or he may have been thinking of Wonderlab and the penny he smashed there, which now bears Wonderlab’s emblem–a light bulb.

Let me offer you a bit of advice–if you don’t want to get an instant sugar headache, do not coat four layers of sugar cookie dough in buttercream frosting.

The cake was great, but the highlight of the day was how relaxed we were. We were able to coast through the normally difficult parts of our school routine. We did not spend the morning getting emotionally and physically ready to go to school. We did not fight over eating and how much one should consume at lunch time. We did not have to do drop-off or pick-up. There was no report on Noah’s behavior outside the home, good or bad. There was no tantrum due to being overtired after 2+ hours of being overwhelmed by the sheer number of bodies in the classroom, or mental and physical fatigue. There was a pleasantly brief witching hour that involved trotting around the living room for about 20 minutes to Garth Brooks songs (we were horsies). And Noah went to sleep by 7:30 with no complaints. While he did come in our bed in the middle of the night, that’s par for the course. The important thing is, he was able to sleep deeply and is happy today. That last bit is something he pretty much hasn’t experienced since starting school. In fact, it was taking us 90 minutes on average to get him in his bed and leave the room. And there was frequently another 30 dealing with his agitation and inability to sleep. Plus early rising or midnight screaming.

What we did do, aside from cookie cake and 30 minutes of Obama the Builder, was read, read, read. We also played with cars. We did 14 puzzles in a row! We talked to each other. Noah took time to himself. We listened to music (the same song) all day long. Sometimes, Noah and Gabriel ignored me in favor of their own games. We laughed and had fun. We enjoyed each other.

When Nathan left this morning he told Noah, “You’re going to have another wonderful day.” So far, that’s true. Alhumdulillah.

*With regards to the title, Montessori doesn’t do this to most kids, but if you look back at Part 1, you’ll see that Noah has his own needs that were being consumed by the school environment.

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