My kids and hubby are out for the evening, so I decide that I’ll have a nice chicken sandwich, get some good  practice on the Beethoven Concerto I’m performing next month, then relax with a junk food snack while watching Netflix or something.  So, I walked across to the corner store to get a loaf of bread, a bag of chips and a bottle of pop.

Since I’m just walking and it’s so close, I didn’t bother taking my wallet.  I grabbed all the coins that were sitting on the table at the time, mostly toonies, which added up to $8… did some quick mental math (bread: discount outlet, usually $1.20 or so… chips, $3.50, pop, $1.50, even with tax I should be fine) and off I went.

Well, I got up to the till and it came to $8.69!  It turns out this particular bread, this particular day, was $2.20. And I went for the nice Covered Bridge chips (slightly less junky) which were $3.99. Oh well — while slightly disappointing, it’s not REALLY a big deal after all.  So my relaxing evening will be a little different, I’ll just not take the chips.

The lady beside me then says “oh that’s okay, I’ll pay for her chips.”

I’m rather surprised by this — I don’t think I look destitute, and I don’t recognize her as anyone I should know.

I said she didn’t have to do it, but she insisted and practically forced a $5 bill into my hand.

I paid for the chips and pop and bread, and gave her back everything I had left — which was over $4 of course. I thanked her, smiled.  She just said, “oh, you had almost enough.”

And that was that.

Such a little thing, really, but it brightened up my day.  So now… how shall I pay it forward?

Looking at and pondering what many educational philosophies have in common with each other, I recently achieved a level of clarity and understanding, where everything fell into place for me.  I think I may have come up with a Grand Unified Theory of Homeschooling.  Actually, you could call it a Grand Unified Theory of Education, because I think this idea could be implemented in public schools as well… But, since I am a homeschooler, and this is a homeschooling blog, and to actually implement this in public schools would require far more change than most would probably be willing to do… let’s just stick with the “Homeschooling” side of it for now.

The fundamental basis of this Grand Unified Theory, upon which everything else rests, is this:

The most important stage of learning for any child is not until after they have started adolescence — usually around 14 years old.  There are essential changes that happen to the human brain when it goes through puberty.  Children around this age are capable of complex and abstract thought processes, and are able to analyze facts and ideas with great depth and insight.  This is almost entirely a function of physical development, and is not based on prior learning.

This is fairly well recognized as true, even if you haven’t specifically noticed it before.  This is the age of “high school” in the public schools, which is a very different environment than elementary and middle schools.  Classical education calls this stage “Rhetoric,” where students apply advanced logic and analysis to discuss, defend, and persuade myriad ideas.  The Waldorf tradition speaks of the “14-year change”, the beginning of the third 7-year-cycle of development.  In Waldorf terms, the first stage (up to age 7) is “hands” – primarily active and physical development and learning; the second stage (age 7-14) is “heart,” an age of deep feeling; and 14-21 is “head,” as they move into their intellect.

However you explain it, around age 14 is when our children become truly capable of deep learning.  And so my argument now, is that everything learned before age 14 is merely preparatory.  Not that it is unimportant, but that it is only skeletal.  A framework upon which the real learning that takes place in adolescence can be built.  Much as how knowing the letters of the alphabet is preparatory to reading (but is not, in itself, reading), education in the first 13 years of life is merely the setting up of the basic skills that will be needed for in-depth learning later.

So here is the second part of the Grand Unified Theory of Homeschooling.  Rather than worrying about “what my 5yo should know” or “what does a 3rd grader need to learn,” all we really need to concern ourselves with is “what should my child be able to do by the time he is 14 years old?”

Once you look at it this way, you find an awful lot of freedom.  You will quickly see that there are many ways to arrive at this goal.  And you will also, hopefully, realize that what any child knows at age 6 or 8 or 10 is, by and large, quite irrelevant.  (Not that the knowledge is irrelevant; just the age at which they learned it is irrelevant.)  Whether they start to read at 3 or 11, as long as they can read comfortably by the time they’re 14, that’s all that matters.  Whether they learn long division when they’re 8 or when they’re 13, as long as they’re okay with it by the time they’re 14, they’ll be fine.  Instead of worrying about lists and requirements for each and every year along the way, and whether we’re ahead or behind or what have you… why don’t we take a more long-term view of things?

And so the next piece of the puzzle, therefore, is what are those skills that are needed for the in-depth learning stage of adolescents?

This is my suggested list.  A child 14 years old should, by and large, know or know how to:

• read
• elementary arithmetic, fractions, patterns, decimals.
• cook a simple meal
• write a coherent paragraph
• look up something they don’t know (online or in books)
• do the laundry
• basic concept of historical eras in a broad sense
• basic concept of the earth, continents, and different cultures
• speak a few phrases in another language
• keep their belongings and their personal timetable organized
• basic understanding of money, budgeting
• draw, paint, sculpt
• tell time, understand seasonal cycles (not necessarily the mechanics of why there are cycles, just the fact that there are)
• brush their teeth, wash their hair, shower
• basic understanding of physical sciences (hot air goes up, gravity goes down, birds are alive and rocks are not)
• ride a bike
• swim
• cross the street safely
• talk to other people respectfully
• type
• choose nutritious food
• take public transportation
• light a match, build a campfire
• first aid
• sew on a button
• read music, play a musical instrument, or sing, at a basic level

You will notice that not all of this list is academic subjects.  In fact, most of it is not.  Yet all of these topics are, or should be, essential aspects of any child’s education.  They are all important skills needed for living life; and life is about much, much more than academic knowledge.

You will also notice that the academic parts of the list are rather short on details.  And that’s precisely the point.  The details are merely that — details.  All the fine-tuning, all the depth, all the details are easily learned in the adolescent or “high school” years.  One child might know a lot about, say, human biology by the time they’re 10, and that’s fine if that’s what interests them.  But it’s not necessary.  All that is truly necessary in the elementary years in terms of science, is that they keep a love of discovery and an interest in the natural world.

The same is true in pretty much every academic area.  Really all that is necessary is a basic framework.  The details and the depth come in high school.

So here is the final part of the Grand Unified Theory of Homeschooling.  Having recognized this list of skills as the goal for the first 13 years of life, it’s quite easy to recognize that it does not take 7-8 years of intense daily work and study to achieve those skills.  Some are best practiced from an early age, so as to develop good habits.  Others can be quite easily learned within a month or two by a 12 or 13-year-old child, even if it was completely ignored before.  Most homeschooling families will recognize that they will have mastered most (if not all) of these skills, at least the academic ones, long before 14 years old.

And so the point is, whatever style of homeschooling you find works best for your child and your family… in the end, the details don’t matter.  You can save yourself a lot of time, and a whole lot of stress, by not worrying about yearly timetables and schedules and curriculum requirements.  You can choose to follow a curriculum if you prefer to have that structure, but you don’t have to stress if your child seems “behind” when they’re 8 years old.  And even if they’re “ahead”, it’s still only just “details” — the real ‘deep’ learning still is not going to happen until they reach adolescence.  Until that time, everything else is just placeholding.  It is introductions.  It is frameworks.  It is exposure.  But that’s all it is.

Within this Grand Unified Theory of Homeschooling, there is an awful lot of freedom.  There is room for every individual circumstance.  Even the age of 14 is somewhat arbitrary… for some children, that stage of brain development comes a year or 2 earlier.  For others, it may be a year or 2 later.  But as a general goal to keep in mind, 14 is pretty consistent.

The main point I want to get across is this.  Grade levels and standard curricula are completely arbitrary, often based on child development science but not always, and are more often about being able to say you “did something” than about that ‘something’ being actually necessary to know at that age or stage.   Year-to-year curricula are useful for organization and planning, for learning habits and routines, but should not be taken as ‘rules’ or absolute guidelines for what a child should know at any particular age.  Far better, less stressful, less time-consuming, whatever homeschooling methodology or philosophy resonates best with you, is to take a long-range view.  Don’t fret about what they retain and what they forget when they’re still young, it’s all merely “details,” the real learning happens later.  Focus less on the year-to-year, and instead focus on the day-to-day art of living.

So what are your thoughts?  Is there something missing from this basic list of skills?  What are your experiences with the adolescent “change,” and how relevant – or not – were your children’s (or your own) learning experiences when younger?

In our case, it’s how I overdid early academics with my son, forcing him to do lots of workbooks (and yes, I do mean *forcing*) when he was far too young because I thought he showed signs of giftedness and wanted to jump on it, having been gifted myself (and never gotten the FULL chance to excel from a young age), as well as a desire to ‘prove’ how superior homeschooling could be.  It created a lot of damage and took us years to heal.

I learned my lesson well and learned a TON about homeschooling methodologies, freedom, child development, etc etc.  I resolved when my daughter Pomme was born years later that she would be unschooled.  At *least* until she was 7.  Around age 7, we might start some gentle academics if she seemed so inclined.  We’d use Montessori “lessons” through toddlerhood (not academic but practical skills) and let her be creative and independent and all that wonderful stuff I didn’t do with my son.  And there would be NO WORKBOOKS!  And I was so happy and pleased with myself, and so looking forward to this ‘better way’.

Well, then my daughter, barely age 2, started begging for workbooks.

Oh, not every day, but when the mood struck her, she could sit at her little desk and work for a solid hour, focussed and uninterrupted.

She’s now going to be turning 5 this December.  Along the way, everything else has indeed gone as planned… the Montessori practical skills, the independent self-reliance, the creative free range imaginative play.  But… she also LOVES to do sit-down academic work.

It’s like they do this on purpose, you know?  Just to drive us mad?  Just to keep us on our toes?  Just to always challenge our drift into complacency?

If she were going to school, she’d be starting kindergarten this year, although with her December birthday I think we’d have the option of delaying a year if we wanted to.  Except when I look at the kindergarten curriculum here… well, she’s finished all that.  It’s been quite awhile since I’ve blogged here, but as a quick catch-up: she’s now reading, loves doing lapbooks and learning about science, is CONSTANTLY asking questions and telling us “I learned something!”, and we’re almost finished Right Start Math level A.

What I really wanted to share right now is the story of what happened yesterday.

This time of year is, of course, back-to-school.  When I was young, this was my favourite time of year.  Yeah, I was a weird kid.  I love school supplies.  New pencils, crisp fresh new books, the latest nifty binders, colourful scissors, sparkly pens… Love it, love it, love it.  I’m almost 40 and I still love it.

I do not love shopping for school supplies this time of year, though.  The store is crowded, full to the rafters with parents dragging their kids around, supply lists in hand, desperately trying to get the 8 binders and the made-in-Canada-only pencils and the right colour pens and the white bristleboard that every store seems to have run out of.  It’s not a fun place, it’s a place of stress.

But, we needed poster mounting tabs for her new world map.  So off we went.

She, of course, was in heaven.  She wanted everything. But the thing that caught her attention most of all, more than the pretty pencils, more than the stickers, more than the bright highlighters… The thing that made her stop and beg… was the “curriculum helpers” workbooks.  Which every other kid in the store was very specifically and deliberately not noticing.

You know the ones I mean.  Every bookstore and stationery store has the little display of these grade-level subject practice books.  Usually there’s one for math, one for reading, and one for writing, as well as a big fat combined one for each grade.

My daughter picked up a grade 2 math book and exclaimed, “mommy!!!  This is math!!!  Can we get this??  Please!??!??”

I’m not making this up.

Now she is advanced in math, but not that advanced.  I took a look through the book, and well yes, she could do some of it, but really it was too much.  So I told her we’d need to look for one that had a “K” or maybe a “1″ on it instead of a “2″.  She eagerly helped me look.  We found “K” math — which a quick glance through proved to be waaaay too easy.  We found “1″ writing… but since we’re doing cursive first, any standard writing book would be useless, besides she’s not interested in writing too much yet anyway.  Unless it’s numbers, or her name.

We eventually did find a “1″ math book, and it was indeed “just right”.

She carried it proudly through the store, beaming.

When we got to the car, she couldn’t wait to start it.  We used her new pencils (I caved there too).  She’d read the instructions out loud, and spell for me any words too difficult for her (‘mom, what’s n-u-m-e-r-a-t-i-o-n?’)  She would squeal with glee when she finished a page.  She would whine with disappointment when she came across an activity that needed coloured pencils (since we had none with us).

When we went to the grocery store next on our errands, she sat in the cart and worked in her new book.

One lady stocking shelves noticed, and commented “oh, are you getting ready for school?”

Pomme grinned and giggled shyly.  I knew she was going to explain that we actually homeschool — she has been very keen on this fact lately.  And indeed, she did.  Almost.

She said “Actually, I do homework!”

“Oh,” said the stock lady, “this is homework, is it?”

I should add that school has not yet started in our district, though I know it has in many other areas.  So it probably seemed a little odd to her that this little girl had homework already.

I whispered to my daughter, “you mean homeSCHOOL, sweetie.”

She laughed and said out loud, “I mean, actually we do home SCHOOL!”

The stock lady said “oh, I see, you do homeschooling?  That must be very nice.”

“Yes,” said Pomme, “It’s way more better than regular school!”

Although it seems we need to work a little on grammar.  Heh.

Basically, she banned all computers, MP3 players, video game systems, cell phones, etc etc, for 6 months.  And to kickstart the whole experiment, they went several weeks with no electricity at all.  She figured that after weeks of old-fashioned living, simply getting electricity back would be excitement enough that not having all the electronic devices wouldn’t seem so bad in comparison.

And they had amazing results.  The older kids adapted surprisingly easily, and the family found new time to spend together.  The eldest son even found a talent for music which he’s now pursuing professionally.  And even the youngest child, who had the hardest time with the experiment (even ‘running away’ to live with her father for a time) still saw a great improvement in her grades.

If you’ve read anything about Last Child in the Woods, or Nature Deficit Disorder, or anything about Waldorf philosophy, then you’re familiar with the whole idea of today’s culture being too ‘plugged in’ and not connected with our environment — both in terms of nature AND of the individuals around us.

Technology has its usefulness, of course.  I wouldn’t be posting this right now if it weren’t for the incredible advances the internet has given us, for instance.  But it can be too pervasive, too all-consuming.   As the author put it, “Her girls had become mere accessories of their own social-networking profile, as if real life were simply a dress rehearsal (or more accurately, a photo op) for the next status update.”  Brilliantly observed.

Flipper is techno-addicted, no question.  He’s pretty responsible about obeying the rules, no video games until his work is done, etc.  But his free time is filled with video games, his new electronic music recorder, his videocamera, his MP3 player.  His Gameboy until I permanently took that away some years ago.  This isn’t all bad — he’s learning to make stop-motion movies with his videocamera.  He’s producing full multi-track original songs with his music recorder.  But he shows a level of obsession that is worrying.  He sneaks his camera in bed at night.  He makes video recordings of himself playing video games.  He watches endless Youtube videos of other kids playing video games.  When he engages in creative drawing or writing, it’s all centered around his video games — diagrams of new levels for Mario, inventing new Pokemon characters, designing LineRider tracks… Again, at least he’s being creative and wanting to invent new uses — maybe someday he’ll be a video game designer! — but the exclusion of nearly all other creative offerings is, well, pretty tragic if you ask me.

His Asperger’s likely plays a role in this.  AS kids will hyperfocus on particular areas.

But still.  Wouldn’t it be great to do what SHE did?  Even just for a little while?

I would do a few things differently, of course.  First of all, I love the “no electricity” introduction, but we probably would not do that for more than a week.  And not COMPLETELY off the grid, either.  Our beautiful, fresh, clear water comes from a well operated by an electric pump.  With no electricity, we’d have to go to bottled water (or else install a hand pump, which I can’t see happening).  Since the object of the exercise is to experience a more natural living style, that would be a step in the wrong direction.  So, the electricity stays on, the water pump stays on.  The fridge and deep-freeze would also stay on.  Part of our natural-living lifestyle involves lots of home preserving, and much of that is stored in our deep-freeze.

But the stove and the microwave could stay off.  We’d live on raw foods, fresh foods, and barbecue (charcoal, of course).  Maybe experiment with a solar oven!  The TV would stay off, and the computers, obviously.  The radio?  Oh, that’s a hard one.  But just for a week.  It will be all the sweeter when the music comes back on, and in the meantime we’ll just make our own.

We’d invest in a wind-up alarm clock or two.  Leave all the lights off, all the time.  We’d run the vaccuum, though… that’s essential for my dust-allergic hubby.  We might consider allowing the electric kettle as well…  And our telephones are all electric as well.

And of course, for this to work at all, we would have to do it in the summer.  No heat, dark after 5pm… doing it in the winter would just be daft.  But in the summer?  Quite doable.  Just like camping… but at home.

After a week or so of that, we’d turn on the stove again, but leave the computers off.   Maybe for another 2 weeks.   I guess we’d have to start buying newspapers to keep up with important world events.  I’d have to call people instead of emailing them — that’s hard, for an introvert like me!

Another potential obstacle — Many of my son’s school resources are online or on the computer.  And yes, we “do school” in the summer, just on a pretty loose schedule.  I’d have to print stuff out ahead of time, or just take a break from some of them.  Intellego Unit Studies, for instance, ONLY work with an internet connection.

But it would be a most intriguing experiment, one we just might consider doing this summer…

Just a few short weeks ago, Pomme was eager to learn to write.  She was frequently “writing”, by which I mean she was making little circular-ish shapes and squiggles in neat left-to-right lines.  And she had learned a few specific letters — she stunned me one day a few months ago, in fact, by writing a perfectly legible “mom” on a Valentine’s envelope she had prepared for me.

But anything beyond a few of the simpler letters was beyond her.  She loved to trace letters, and we would write out entire sentences for her to trace.  But no matter how many times she traced a particular letter over and over, as soon as she tried to do it on her own it fell apart.  Her muscles just weren’t yet able to remember the sequence of motions.

This is not worrisome, of course — she’s only 3!  But it was a little frustrating for her, since she so wants to learn.  And frustrating for me, since most handwriting instructional books, being intended for older children, don’t feature a lot of tracing.  They go pretty quickly to forming letters on their own without that crutch.  So my hopes of finding a program to save me the time of writing out things for her to trace all the time were quickly dashed.

I did find one possibility — A Beka’s K4 handwriting program is designed for this younger age group and does have lots of tracing.  It’s also not “ball and stick”, which I despise with a white-hot burning passion (there is a choice between ball-and-stick manuscript or cursive).  I still waffle between d’Nealian printing and just plain old cursive first… and if cursive first, traditional style or Italics?  But for now, I would be happy with anything single-stroke and not ball-and-stick.

Any program we used would also have to focus on lower case letters first.  Which, fortunately, most these days do… but not all.  Any of the tracings that I’ve done for Pomme myself, all the letters that we’ve worked on learning so far, have all been lower-case.

Then a couple of weeks ago, everything changed all at once.  We were registering her for her dance classes, and I had signed a credit card slip.  As she often does, she announced that she wanted to sign too.  I’ll usually take the regular receipt and let her “sign” that, which is usually her little pattern of circles and squiggles in a neat left-to-right line.

But that time, she wrote her name.

Now I should mention that she’s been typing her name recently, and working on learning the spelling by heart.  She logs in to various computer games with her name and had just really mastered the complete spelling by herself.

But to write it by hand all by herself, that was another matter entirely.  And what’s more — she wrote some of the letters in capitals.  Which I have never taught her.

My guess is that she learned the capital forms from her computer games.  But it’s still a difficult task to transfer making a shape by clicking points with a mouse, to forming it with a pen by hand.  And she did it flawlessly, without asking for help, with no advance “practice”.

Not long after that, we were doing the first unit of Meet the Masters.  The project for this unit is to make a portfolio to store your artwork, and to decorate it with a palette featuring the names of the artists which will be studied in the programme, and your own name.  I let her write it all by herself.  She doesn’t yet know how to spell her last name, so I told her each letter, but she wrote them independently:

Now I realize that by posting this picture I’ve exposed her real name to the world, but I was just so proud I can’t help it!  She also cut out the palette by herself except for the worst of the inside turn (top left of this picture) which I finished for her.

So now my plans for a handwriting program are up in the air.  She is able now to write without tracing!  So maybe we’ll give Penny Gardner’s Italics program another go.  Or maybe I’ll splurge and buy Cursive First.  Or get Barchowsky’s Fluent Handwriting, I love their emphasis on rhythm… either the regular or the beginner’s workbook… Or maybe we’ll still get A Beka but go with K5 instead of K4.  Or maybe K4 is still a good choice.  Or maybe… or… or… ARGH!!

Jumping on the chance to practice some addition in a ‘natural’ fashion (since she herself brought it up), I then asked:

“What if you have 3 cookies, and then you eat 2 more?”

“That will make 5!”

“What if you have 5 cookies, and then you eat 4 more?”

“That will make 9!”

“This is a harder one… what if you have 2 cookies, and then you eat 6 more?”

“That will make us sick!”

So much has happened too, so many interesting adventures and changes and cute little moments.  I’ve been tending to post little blurbs on Facebook, or on any of the yahoogroups I’m a part of, rather than properly write things up for the blog.  I should try to remedy that.  Not that there’s anything wrong with Facebook or Yahoogroups… those are more immediate.  This has a more… permanent feeling about it.

All I’m going to mention today is about how Pomme is doing.  I’ve mentioned before about how I learned from my mistakes with Flipper in regards to early academics.  To quote myself:

I am a staunch and vocal advocate of letting preschoolers PLAY to learn, that there is no rush for academics, that forcing early academics on children not yet ready for them causes much more harm than good.

I have approached Pomme’s preschool years with the same amount of pride and certainty of the correctness of my beliefs that I used to have in regards to turning Flipper into ‘My Little Prodigy’.

But the universe just isn’t that simple, is it?  Pomme has turned out to be the complete opposite of her brother, a child who at only 3.5 years old adores and demands worksheets, math lessons, and just more and more academics.

I’ve been greatly informed by Waldorf philosophies this past year, and I know that the ‘pure’ Waldorf approach to a precocious preschooler is still to not provide them with academics.  The belief is that their precociousness is a sign of an unbalance that must be corrected for; that they still need to be in their dream world until age 7 in order to be healthy.

I don’t agree with this 100%.  But I do let it inform my decisions.  We make sure that Pomme still has LOTS of creative play time.  While we are indeed doing “work,” it takes a very small part of her day.  Most of her day is still off in her own fascinating little world.  She even brings her imaginary friends with her to “school,” and helps to teach them what she herself is learning about.  She still spends her time building barnyards out of blocks, turning her playsilks into dresses, running around barefoot in the backyard, digging in the sandbox and making mud pies.

But when I do ask her “would you like to do school now?” her response is almost always a resounding “YES!”  In fact, the other day, we sat down to do what was really the first time I’d ever really pulled up a structured work day for her.  More than just an informal math lesson, more than just a match-the-numbers worksheet or two.  I had a whole program laid out:  Cuisenaire rods work; reading practice; TBB Seasons unit study activities; and a RightStart math lesson.  I was honestly just curious to see what would happen.

What happened:  She did everything, then demanded more.  I had printed out enough of the TBB activities to last most of the week, but by the end of our school time that one day I only had 2 sheets left.  She had traced letters, tallied survey results, made a bar graph, learned about temperature and coloured in thermometers, sorted seasonal activities, learned about what trees need to grow, and completed most of a “colour by shapes” picture.

It was three hours since we had started before she showed signs of slowing down.

And we weren’t finished yet.  When it was bedtime, she saw her unfinished picture and declared she wanted to finish it.  I let her do a few more shapes, but it was soon apparent that she was being so deliberate and careful with it (she’s extremely careful to colour properly, and within the lines), that we’d be up all night if I really let her finish it.  She wasn’t happy, but I told her she could get right back to it the next morning.

That night, she stayed in her room all night (which is about 50/50 these days).  I peeked in on her in the morning just as she was starting to wake up.  A few minutes later, I checked again… and she had set herself up at her little table, and was dutifully colouring her picture.  She didn’t come out until she was finished.

I believe that she has recently passed over another of those little bumps of development, something has “clicked”.  Three weeks ago, she could not independently write most letters, but loved to trace them.  Suddenly, a few days ago, she started writing letters by herself, correctly, that she had never even been shown how to write… had never traced.

Two days ago, we had started a RightStart math lesson but didn’t have time to finish it.  So yesterday, we reviewed the first part of the lesson then did the rest of it.  She wanted more.  We did the entire next lesson.  She wanted more!  We did the first part of the next lesson before she decided it was enough!

Today, we started Meet the Masters, a great art program.  We’re trying the age 5-7 program for her, I think she’ll be able to manage it.  And since Flipper is doing the same program but at the older level, we’ll be able to do the actual projects together — there are modifications for the different age levels but it’s a similar project.

There are three parts to each lesson.  An interactive slide show online with me narrating the script.  Then a ‘worksheet’ to learn about a certain art concept related to the current artist.  Then the project itself.  These can be done all in one day or spread over a few days.  The whole lesson start to finish could be an hour to three hours.

She did all three parts today for the first lesson.  Then she wanted to do the next one right away!  It wasn’t possible, unfortunately, since they were about to head to grandma’s for the afternoon.

I’m just flabbergasted.  And excited.  Could she really be this easy?  But I’m also keeping my feet on the ground, and staying cautious.  I still have to be careful not to overdo it (since I know I have the tendency), and I have to realize that this might be temporary!  She could very likely go through phases where she does not want to “do school” at all, and I need to be prepared to respect that!

In the meantime, though, I’m going to enjoy the ride. 

Saxon Math 5/4, Homeschool Third Edition (2005).  630 pages.  Just the student textbook.  Some exercise numbers are circled in pencil, otherwise no marks.  Very good condition overall, some wear here and there.  $30.

Easy Grammar: Grades 3 and 4, 1996 Teacher’s edition.  480 pages.  A few pencil marks, no writing.  Cover shows wear, first40 or so pages are dog-eared.  Otherwise in good condition.  $15.

Easy Grammar: Grade 4, 2006 Teacher’s edition.  585 pages.  Excellent, like new condition.  $25.

A Reason for Spelling, Level D, Teacher’s edition.  355 pages. Front cover missing, some dog-eared pages, otherwise good condition.  $15

Birthing from Within, England and Horowitz.  Paperback.  Excellent condition.  $10.

Enjoy!

One of the greatest benefits of homeschooling is that when we need to, we can just take some time.

About a year or so ago, I bought the Life of Fred: Fractions book, much to Flipper’s chagrin.  More math!??  This was an atrocity!

Until I started to read the first chapter to him… and he giggled… and he took the book and read it cover to cover.

Of course you’re not supposed to read it cover to cover in one sitting.  You’re supposed to work through the math in each chapter before moving on to the next.  But it was a good sign that he would enjoy the book, and he was more than happy to read it again, this time stopping to do the math along the way.

Within a few chapters, I was impressed enough that I went ahead and ordered the rest of the books, from Decimals through to high school Geometry.

However, after awhile, things began to bog down.

Flipper has always had difficulty with retention, especially in math.  He will learn a new concept, clearly demonstrate solid understanding of it, successfully complete several lessons on it… and when the concept comes up again a few weeks later, he insists he’s never ever ever done this before and has a meltdown.  It takes a ridiculous amount of re-learning and repetition before something actually, permanently, ‘sticks’.

This is why we’ve gone through so many different math programs through the years, often repeating the same “level” in different programs.  Each one is great, but not enough for him to be able to move on just yet.

And so it started with Life of Fred.  Although he had previously done most of the fraction concepts with Teaching Textbooks (I knew he needed more review, which is why I purchased LoF in the first place), it was like he’d never seen them before.  He was starting to have trouble with the “Bridge” unit tests.

At one point, he ‘flunked’ all 5 Bridge options at the end of one unit, and even after attempting them a second time, he still could not get enough correct answers to show he understood what was happening.  In fact, it was very clear that he did not.

So, we put it away.  And we focused solely on the RightStart level E he was already doing.

Fast-forward to this year.  He is now well into RightStart Geometry and loving it.  When we found a massive printing error that required us to wait for a new copy (which they gladly shipped to us at no charge), we decided to start Teaching Textbooks Pre-Algebra in the meantime, and also to get back into Life of Fred.

Now that I think about it, this Teaching Textbooks was also a “get back into” event.  After having finished TT Grade 6 two years ago, we tried going straight into TT Pre-Algebra, but it was again quickly obvious that he had not retained well enough and it was too ‘dry’ for him.  That’s when we switched to RightStart E in the first place.

This time it was completely different.  The first 25 or so chapters of TT Pre-Algebra have been a piece of cake for him.  Although many concepts which really are review for him still seem to him like “new” concepts, at least he is not getting stuck, nor is he getting frustrated.

And Life of Fred?

Well, today he finished the last chapter, after having sailed through every single Bridge along the way on the very first try.

The Final Bridge, however, was not successful on the first attempt, due to a single repeating error — using the ‘shortcut’ for turning a mixed number into an improper fraction, he put the resulting figure in the denominator instead of the numerator.   Now this did result in a meltdown when he realized he’d blown the entire thing, having made this mistake every single time.

But now that he’s done that, I highly doubt he’ll ever make that slip again!

In fact, when he went to bed tonight, he asked if he could work on the Final Bridge second version, so that he could start the Decimals book tomorrow.  And he asked to take the Decimals book to bed with him as well… just in case he did finish the Bridge successfully this time.

All this is simply to demonstrate the value of time.  The value of putting something away and bringing it back later… whether that means after doing practice in other curricula, or just letting some maturing happen.  I really do think that 90% of the difference has been simply the fact that he’s a year more mature, though certainly the RightStart program helped immensely as well.

To do so… to put something away when it is too much right now… is not to admit defeat.  It is not a failure.  In public school, there would be no option.  Each child must march in lock step with the entire class, and if it’s too much too soon, or too fast… too bad.  Any difficulties are indeed perceived as failures.

But at home, we can be more realistic.  It’s not the child that’s at fault.  It’s just not the right time for this program.  You take a break, with no recriminations or disappointments, and you try again later.  We can allow the development that happens with time to unfold at its own pace, and work with our kids where they are rather than where some artificial and arbitrary standard says they ought to be.