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Friday, August 01, 2008Vocabulary, A Badge of HonorFor me, that is. As his mother. For, you see, on the drive home from my sister's house (which is approximately seven and a half hours long), my sixteen-year-old son used the following three words: Copious. Meandering. Redundant. He used them in the course of normal conversation. He used them correctly. He used them without thinking about it. He was just, you know, talking. Maybe that's not very exciting to you. I am admittedly easily diverted. But if I can boast a son who speaks as though he's actually read a book or two, then I am well pleased. Vocabulary Snobbery notwithstanding. Maybe I'm grabbing at straws, but these things make me happy. Must be that mom/writer combination kicking in. Now if he would just remember to take the garbage out... Labels: homeschooling, life Tuesday, June 03, 2008Geography"Mommy?" Spencer said between mouthfuls of dinner. "How do people live in Greenville when it gets soooo cold there?" "Greenville?" Pause. "I mean Greenland." Greenville. Greenland. We're splitting hairs, right? Erik the Red is rolling in his grave. Labels: family, homeschooling Sunday, March 23, 2008Free Stuff Is GoodFor my homeschooling readers who also happen to blog: This is your chance to win a free Rosetta Stone language program. We use Rosetta Stone for Latin. It's fabulous. So fabulous that we're planning on purchasing the French version for this fall (Maggie's passionate to learn French -- how cool is that?). Read below, follow the links, enter if you will. I'm hoping this is my lucky week: Rosetta Stone has been the #1 foreign language curriculum among homeschoolers for a while -- next week they are unleashing a brand new curriculum, and you can WIN the *all new* Rosetta Stone Homeschool Version 3… FOR FREE! This is a $219 program (and believe me it's worth every penny!) and the winner gets to pick from any of these 14 languages: Spanish (Spain or Latin America), English (American or British), Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, French, German, Italian, Portuguese, Irish, Hebrew, or Russian. This will also include a headset with microphone, and students will participate in lifelike conversations and actually produce language to advance through the program. Rosetta Stone still incorporates listening, reading and writing as well, in addition to speaking. Many homeschoolers requested grammar and vocabulary exercises, and with Rosetta Stone Homeschool Version 3, they're included! For parents, the new Parent Administrative Tools are integrated into the program and allow parents to easily enroll students in any of 12 predetermined lesson plans, monitor student progress, and view and print reports. To win this most excellent program -- in the language of your choice -- copy these (blue) paragraphs and post it in (or as) your next blog post -- then to enter the contest, go to the original contest page HERE and leave a comment with the link showing where you blogged about it. And please make sure the link works to get back to the original contest page when you post it. And good luck! The winner will be picked randomly on March 26, and will be notified thru the link they left to their blog pg. And if you have more than one blog, you can post them and enter those separately for more chances to win. Yay for free stuff! Labels: fun, homeschooling Wednesday, October 17, 2007Raising Butterflies
    It all started when Jonathan came home with a container full of Monarch caterpillars. Yes, he knows these things. He knows what Monarch caterpillars look like, and he knew just what to do in order to ensure that the caterpillars would thrive, leading to the formation of a chrysalis and, ultimately, an adult butterfly. The photos speak for themselves. The caterpillars feasted on milkweed leaves (and pooped accordingly) until, one by one, they crawled up the sides of the box and formed a chrysalis. The jewel-green pods remained suspended until yesterday, when Jonathan announced that two had darkened -- which, evidently, they do just prior to emergence. Yes, he knew that, too. Jonathan blows me away with his depth of knowledge of things like this. By midmorning, we had two Monarchs-in-a-box, drying their wings. A third emerged later, and there are more to come. I never dreamed I'd have freshly emerged Monarchs fluttering about in my living room. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love my life. There is more pleasure in watching the birth of a butterfly than I could have imagined. Would that every day brought such wonders. (And yes, I realize that a butterfly is an insect. I don't get close enough to get a look at those ugly little faces and beady eyes. I just enjoy their vibrant wings and the fact that they don't bite or sting.) In a warped, entomological way, I've become a grandmother. Labels: family, homeschooling, life Friday, August 03, 2007Tax Free Shopping Spree'Tis the weekend of tax-free shopping in Tennessee -- so long as you're buying school supplies or clothing. At 9.25 percent, the Tennessee retail tax is something I'm more than happy to say bye-bye to once a year. Really, I don't mind paying tax only on what I purchase. We've got no state income tax, and I like it that way. It's just that our tax rate is ridiculously high (with, frankly, not much to show for it), and the almost-ten-percent mark-up on everything tends to add up. So. Spencer has had signs hanging up around the house for over a week now: "AUGUST 3 TAX HOLIDAY AT WALMART!" He's been just a wee bit excited to buy his stash of ten-cent notebooks and twenty-cent crayons -- tax free. So a little after ten o'clock, my offspring and I piled into the van and headed to Walmart. And it was a veritable zoo. A madhouse, even. Why, no one even moved out of the way when they saw my gargantuan belly. They were too busy burying their noses in the "lists of things for XYZ Elementary School" to notice anything else. Funny. Quite of bit of the Tennessee sales tax is supposedly apportioned for schools. Yet all the school moms have to buy every last bit of "stuff" for each child, down to the last pencil. But I digress. We navigated our way through the mess of people and got what we wanted. The children spent their allowances and I spent Eric's paycheck. At any rate, you really can't beat packages of lined notebook paper for thirty cents a pop, or a box of ten Crayola markers for a mere eighty-eight cents. We left the store well-stocked and happy. Why, I even purchased a desk calendar. This was a good thing, considering the fact that December, 2006 was still proudly displayed on my kitchen desk up until a couple of hours ago. It's amazing how a simple thing like a current calendar on my desk has lowered my stress level. I'm happy. The kids are happy. It's Friday. And one more thing has been crossed off my list. Wish the crib we're paying off tomorrow were eligible for a tax exemption this weekend. Ah, well. At least I've got a closet full of cheap school supplies. Have a glorious weekend! Labels: homeschooling, life Thursday, April 26, 2007Life Is GoodI've been in a funk for the past week or two over the fact that my long-laid plans to take my daughters to see the Nashville Ballet's production of Swan Lake never materialized. Not that Nashville Ballet is the be-all-end-all. It's not. They're good; they're the best we've got. But they're not great. Still, we enjoyed their performance of Sleeping Beauty a couple of years ago, and Swan Lake is a must-see for any budding ballerina. So when I learned that Swan Lake was on April's agenda, I set my heart on it. Eric, our finances, and a new baby on the way sort of changed things. The matinee performance I had so long dreamed about -- this coming Sunday, actually -- was no longer on my horizon. And it really stank. This morning I received yet another email-that-I-almost-always-chuck-without-opening from one of the local homeschooling groups I subscribe to. God is good, because I opened this one, and it was a reminder about tomorrow's field trip to see Swan Lake. Huh? Yeah, so maybe I miss things by not opening emails. Lesson learned. I popped over to the Yahoo group page to see what it was all about. And sure enough, there were seven tickets available. No woman on the planet has ever zipped off an email as quickly as I did. And I got 'em. I got the last three tickets. We're going to see Swan Lake tomorrow morning! And here's the best part: It only costs $7.00 per ticket. Homeschooling field trip groups are my new favorite thing. Have I mentioned that I'm a little bit excited about this? Forget that the carpet cleaners are coming tomorrow morning; Jonathan can handle them. Forget that I'll probably have to pee at least twice while I'm there; the bathrooms at TPAC are generally clean. Forget that I have no idea how to get there or where to park. That's what Eric's for. I'm taking my girls to see Swan Lake! Funny timing, too, because just this morning I was checking show times and ticket availability for the New York City Ballet's spring performances, since we're planning on taking the children to the city for a day while we're visiting my parents in June. How could I live with myself if I brought my daughters to NYC and failed to take them to a ballet performance? $60.00 a seat doesn't quite compare with $7.00, though, so I'm not so sure Eric will buy it. Even though I've assured him that it would be a Girl Only activity. He and the boys can run the streets for a couple of hours during the show. Or do something boring like take the ferry to the Statue of Liberty. (I'm sorry. I just don't find the ferry ride and subsequent tour of the museum at the base of the Statue all that intriguing. I'd rather sit on a bench in Central Park and watch people. Seriously.) So. I'm happy. It's an unexpected gift. All I have to do now is figure out what to slip my pregnant body into for the affair. Something that goes with flip flops, of course. I'll let you know all about it tomorrow! Labels: homeschooling, life Wednesday, March 14, 2007On Good Writing and the Notion of ConflictI've ranted before about the poor writing examples in my son's grammar book. Mind you, the actual grammar is impeccable. It's an excellent curriculum and I'm glad I chose it. I have no argument with the grammar content. It's the writing part. You know, the part where they teach about writing descriptive sentences, using figurative language, and varying sentence order. That sort of thing. And the deeper we get into Writing Territory, the more nauseated I become. We're talking Bad Writing 101, or How To Write If You Never Want To Be Published. I know, I know. Most teenagers who are learning to write do not have aspirations toward professional writerhood. But it's an irrefutable fact that good writing is a valuable life skill, and youngsters are done a vile disservice when they are not taught to write cleanly, sharply, and as brilliantly as they can. Want an example of what I mean by Bad Writing In A Top-Notch Grammar Book? Ahem: "The bear's heart turned to water, and he fled like a frightened rabbit." (On figures of speech) "A large oak spread its branches protectingly over a small cottage." (On descriptive sentences) "An owl called enticingly from the woods as we followed Father out into the soft moonlight. A cool breeze fanned my cheeks and left the dampness of dew. Another breeze came to tease my hair, bringing a tempting whiff of peppermint from the tea bed." (On descriptive composition) Now, you may call me a Writing Snob if you'd like. In fact, you might be thinking, "If my teenager wrote sentences like those, I'd be thrilled." Well, if your teenager were writing sentences like those, he'd obviously been trained in the Bad Writing school along with his fellow classmates. I mean, come on! "Fled like a frightened rabbit?" "Spread its branches protectingly?" Protectingly?? Needless to say, I don't mince my words with Jonathan when something really stinks. Fortunately, he agrees with me almost every time. "Spread its branches protectingly" is too many words -- too clunky -- to be truly effective. How about "embraced?" Or "stood guard?" "A large oak embraced the small cottage." "A large oak stood guard over a small cottage." Still not deathless prose, to be sure. But definitely a step in the right direction. The point of this particular sentence was, of course, the use of personification. A tree cannot truly "protect" or "embrace" or "stand guard," but that's the beauty of the exercise. It just peeves me that the writers of this grammar book couldn't have done a better job with the actual writing. Ugh. The good news is that, despite the substandard writing examples, Jonathan has developed a love for creative writing (read: for making Mom laugh with strange stories). A short composition last week was a bit on the rambly side, reading more like a list of events with no purpose or direction than like a story. So, like any responsible writer, I introduced the concept of conflict. "Your story needs conflict," I said. "You need to come up with a problem that has to be solved. There needs to be a climax and a resolution." And like any responsible fourteen-year-old boy, Jonathan followed my directions and added conflict to his next short story. He created a villain named Will Conflict. And there you have it. Bad writing examples aside, Jonathan's innate sense of humor (and gift for irony) is going to carry him beyond anything I might impart. Test next Thursday. Labels: homeschooling, writing Thursday, March 08, 2007"Hey, Can We Do Grammar Today?"No, I'm serious. That's a verbatim quote from fourteen-year-old Jonathan. I'm still in shock. Let me explain. I've set up our schedule so that we do grammar lessons three days a week, Monday-Wednesday-Friday. That means that today -- Thursday -- is a grammar-less day, a day of great freedom and rejoicing in the lives of certain Boehme offspring. But this morning Jonathan accosted me in the hallway and said, "Hey, can we do grammar today instead of tomorrow?'' And in his eyes I saw -- enthusiasm. A twinkle, even. And then I knew. It was because yesterday's lesson was a writing lesson -- a lesson on descriptive sentences and paragraphs. And Jonathan prides himself on his ability to impress me -- and make me laugh -- with his writing. He didn't want to wait another whole day to show me his assignment. So he asked for a grammar lesson. I dropped everything and sat down with the kid immediately. I mean, what semi-sane homeschooling mother would do otherwise? The beauty of this is that I'm a writer. And my teenaged son enjoys creative writing. Does it get any better than this? Well, yes, I'm sure it does. He's a pain in the butt when it comes to other subjects, like Latin and Algebra. (Fortunately, I don't have to be directly involved in either, since he uses computer software for both.) I'd love to see this kind of enthusiasm across the board. But we're not wired that way, are we? We come to life when our passions are stoked. And oh! to think that my son's passion is stoked by the thought of writing. Writing! Mind you, Jonathan's writing is a bit -- avant-garde. Okay, it's downright weird sometimes. But he's the only person I know who can take a ridiculous, nonsensical topic and create a well-constructed sentence: The starship crashed into the lively skyscraper, which was gaping in the breeze. Although it was midday, the stupid rooster kept squawking and coughing his ugly sunrise song. When the spines from the rather unlucky stickleback penetrate his throat, anti-puncture force fields are immediately placed into effect. One day, while the summer breezes were toasting the June bugs, a fine, dandy chap came trotting down the old path. To add even more fun to the experience, Jonathan enjoys writing the opposite answers for his review exercises. It's his way of saying, "This is easy, I get it already." And I, being a savvy, quick-witted mom, keep pace with him by reversing the answers in my head, telling myself that "wrong" means "right." I am the only person on the planet who could teach grammar to this boy. At least he keeps me on my toes. And reminds me that learning is more fun when we allow our creativity -- and sense of humor -- to take flight. And keeps me humble. And he's cute, too. That counts for something on the bad days. And he knows it. Labels: homeschooling, writing Monday, February 12, 2007And I Was Worried About Math and Grammar??Lots of homeschooling parents worry that they will leave inadvertent "holes" in their children's education. You know...accidentally leave out something important, like the Declaration of Independence or the first moon landing in 1969. Not that sending your child to a public school ensures that they'll learn these things, anyway, but you get my point. Homeschooling puts a special kind of "pressure" on parents that doesn't really need to be there. Anyway, I've never been one of those homeschooling moms who worries a whole lot about it. Most of the subjects in school are artificially contrived, anyway ("Social Studies?" "Health?"). It all goes back to this: If a child can read fluently, he will have the capacity to learn anything about anything -- for his entire life. That, and a strong understanding of basic math, will give any child a firm educational foundation in life. Well, I've always thought so, anyway. Until this afternoon, when I made a horrifying discovery. My daughters didn't know what pickles were. Well, I mean, they knew what they were -- sour things in jars that you eat. Things called "pickles." "These are cucumbers," I said as I munched on my bread-and-butter pickle slices at lunch today. "Huh?" Rachel said. "I thought they were pickles." I tried not to gape at her. "Rachel, they are pickled cucumbers." "They're cucumbers?" It was Maggie's turn to look incredulous. "How can they be cucumbers?" "Maggie, what did you think they were?" "Pickles." Okay, this was too much. "You thought they were just pickles? Look at the ingredients -- it says CUCUMBERS." "I don't read ingredients." "I can't believe you didn't know these were pickled cucumbers. Pickling is just preserving something in brine. You can pickle lots of different things -- green tomatoes, pig's feet --" "Ears," Rachel piped. (Don't worry; that was in reference to a story we read in our history book about a British merchant who lost his ear by the sword of a Spanish sailor, and consequently pickled it in a jar to show it to Parliament. At least she was listening.) Maggie looked exasperated. "Well, I just thought these were pickles and that everything else was a pickled something else." Now there's a good dose of logic. So all this time I've been exposing my children to fine music and good literature, making sure they write well, testing them in math to be sure they've mastered the last unit, and reminding them daily that reading will expand their minds, vocabularies, and the beauty of life. I wasn't worried about contrived subjects or standardized tests or memorizing useless dates. I was confident that my children were turning out fairly well-rounded, thank you very much. Then my world was shattered by a jar of pickles. What else might I have missed? Do they know that coconuts grow on trees? That applesauce is made from apples? That the turkey on their plate used to have two feet, a beak, and a body full of feathers? Maybe we need to spend the next year on a farm. We are either way too urban or way too technological. Either that, or I simply never thought to mention that pickles are cucumbers. And now I'm wondering how old I was when I made that discovery myself. Probably around thirty or so. Do you think there will be any questions about pickles on the S.A.T.'s? Labels: homeschooling, parenting Thursday, January 18, 2007Lions and Tigers and a WebcamYou've absolutely got to see this: Watering Hole in Africa I can't take credit for finding it; Jonathan discovered it and passed it around our computerized family. The webcam is set up 24/7, and if you're lucky, you'll see a lioness or exotic bird come to the water and drink. I haven't been so lucky yet, though my children have. Enjoy your pseudo-safari, and don't blame me if you get addicted! Labels: homeschooling, links Thursday, October 26, 2006Don't Be Sad, JerryAnd please, please, PLEASE don't stand in awe. I agree with your (colorful) analogy. The public school system is a broken machine, despite scores of dedicated, diligent teachers out there. I liken it to a dance company. You may be the most brilliant dancer to yet join, but if all of the other dancers have broken legs, your skill won't go very far on the dance floor. Nothing can diminish your talent, but you will be handicapped by everyone around you. There will be no Swan Lake, no Sleeping Beauty. You will have to compromise your talent and lower your "dancing standards" to those of your colleagues. But Jerry, there is nothing innately special about me because I homeschool. I am not a particularly patient person (as my children will attest to); nor do I have any special skill as a "teacher." And your children would not receive any sort of "special educational blessing" by sitting next to my own children. In short, you and your wife are just as "skilled" as any parent needs to be in order to homeschool. For you see, it's not about systematically pouring information into their little heads. It's about facilitating their own, inborn ability to learn. And that begins with making sure they can read. Simply put, the most important "educational" thing I've ever done for my children is teaching them to read. A child who can read is a child who can learn. Anything. Before we moved to Tennessee, Eric and I had never heard of homeschooling. Once we learned about it (through meeting a family of fairly impressive children), the Lord laid it on our hearts to homeschool our own children. Mind you, we didn't even have children yet. It was one of those "this is what we are going to do" things -- and we barely knew a thing about it. Sometimes I'm frustrated. Sometimes I'm burned out. Sometimes I feel like a complete failure. In fact, I know that I couldn't do this if it weren't for the grace of God. My perfectionism, my anxiety, my divergence all work against me. Yet every day I watch my children following their passions, growing in their faith and in their knowledge of the world around them. I see Jonathan designing web sites and excelling at Physics; I see Maggie writing novels and learning to dance en pointe; I see Rachel blossoming as a photographer and learning to write stories; I see Spencer teaching himself math (yes, teaching himself) and reading his first chapter book (The Boxcar Children, of course). Best of all, I get to spend every day with them. Not each passing minute -- we'd drive each other beyond the brink of sanity. But I'm an active, vibrant part of their lives. They entrust their hearts to me instead of to a faceless peer group. They express to me their dreams, their desires, their hurts. I am honored and blessed beyond measure to be the mother of these four awesome children. In all my imperfection, they love my unconditionally. I am supremely thankful that I am able to homeschool them. I have met women who have longed to homeschool their children, only to have their husbands refuse to allow it. There are also women who want to homeschool but are forced to work outside the home to make ends meet. I do not take my blessing lightly. What it takes more than anything else to homeschool, Jerry, is the desire. Desire, followed by dedication. Not classes on "educational psychology," not a degree, not a teaching certificate. In fact, my "teacher training" did nothing but work against me when I first started homeschooling. I had to "de-program" myself before I started to become truly effective as my children's educational "coach." And I'm still learning. Thank you, my cyberfriend, for your words of affirmation. But do not be sad, and do not be awestruck. Instead, ask the Lord to show you what means He may have for an alternative education for your children. You may be joyously, wondrously, immeasurably surprised by what happens. And one more thing. From everything I've extracted from your writings, I sense that you are a loving, devoted dad. And that will remain true regardless of where your children are receiving their education. Remember that. Labels: homeschooling Wednesday, October 25, 2006Surely He Must Be Quite Thirsty
 Bear with me; this is a Writing Rant. My regular readers know that I'm homeschooling my children. This year, I've begun to use an excellent grammar series for my twelve- and fourteen-year-olds. I love the series because it's thorough, it's advanced, and it teaches sentence diagraming. (Yes, I spelled diagraming correctly. I promise.) Today, Jonathan's lesson included the identification of gerund phrases and infinitive phrases and the diagraming thereof. Super lesson. (Can you tell I love grammar?) However, as is often the case, some of the sentences used as examples are, simply put, weak sentences. Yes, they're grammatically correct. Yes, they make sense. But from a writing standpoint, they're weak. And it drives me absolutely bonkers. Case in point is the sentence in my title: Surely he must be quite thirsty. (Attention grammar aficionados: This sentence was in the review section, not the main lesson. Hence the absence of either a gerund or an infinitive phrase). The sentence is easy enough to decipher; "thirsty" is the predicate adjective that modifies "he," the subject. Like I said, it's grammatically correct. The problem? Adverbs. A six-word sentence should not contain two adverbs. Nothing weakens a sentence like a preponderance of adverbs. So we've got surely and quite in the same sentence when we could do with either one alone: "Surely he must be thirsty." "He must be quite thirsty." Or if it were in the context of dialogue, we wouldn't need either one: "He must be thirsty." See my point? Of course, Jonathan has the benefit of a writer-mom who is careful always to point out weak sentences and encourage her children to do the same. Some things are hard-and-fast and should not be questioned, such as a verb is a verb is a verb (unless it's a gerund, in which case it's a noun). But other things are more subjective, like Too Many Adverbs. And it isn't just professional writers who need to worry about such things -- it's everybody. Imagine writing a cover letter to a resume that sounds like this: "I am really interested in pursuing employment with your very progressive firm. My experience is very extensive and I've carefully and diligently outlined my employment history in the quite detailed, enclosed resume. Thank you so very much for your time." Yep. If it were up to me, I'd throw it in the garbage without checking the resume. Let's try: "I am interested in pursuing employment with your progressive firm. I have outlined my experience and employment history in the enclosed resume. Thank you for your time." I know, I know...I've just spent more than a month doing heavy-duty revisions. This is the kind of thing that, after you've weeded it from your own writing, sticks out like a festering thumb. So, to all you writers out there: STOP USING ALL THOSE ADVERBS. There. I feel better now. Labels: homeschooling, writing |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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