Letters to Arden - February 3, 2018

Dear Arden,

I saw a picture of you yesterday from three years ago. You were dressed in a pink bodysuit, pink tights, pink tutu, and pink slippers, ready for your very first ballet class. If I do the math, you were only four years old. Your smile showed excitement, and just a hint of uncertainty. You were about to step into something new.

Looking back, you seem so small. I remember someone telling me at that age, to step back and remember just how little “four” is. I’m not sure I saw it then. Not sure I could have seen it. You were the firstborn, the big sister, the first to grow into everything. I remember some of the struggles we had. I remember not knowing what to do. I remember feeling small and unsure. Most of the growing pains were mine.

And I’m sorry, little girl, if I handed you some of my burdens. If I put all the expectations for the success of my parenting on your behaviour. If I tried to mould you, like a lump of clay, into some image in my mind’s eye.

I see your four year old face looking back, or is it forward, at me, and my heart melts a little for all the ways I’m sure I failed you. Forgive me daughter, I knew not what I was doing.

And now you are seven, going on eight. You’ve changed your ballet slippers for shoes with metal soles, and you are tapping and stomping your way through the world. I still don’t know what I’m doing. You are still the first, and everything is new for us!

But maybe I can remember how little you are, even now. I pray I can step back and see you for who you are. I pray I can see the smallness, and enjoy it for all that it is.

And maybe I can drop the burden, and stop using you as a measurement of myself. Maybe I can release the muddy hold, and give you to the hands of the skilled Potter. Maybe we can learn together from our Father what it means to grow, yet keep our childlike hearts.

Let’s dance together, little girl. Let me see you smile.

love Mom

Home Education as the Hearth

With any practical endeavour, it helps me to have some kind of image which gives meaning to the work at hand. And the no-small-task of home education is no exception. It’s such a big job, with so many facets. I can easily become overwhelmed by details. I can easily become discouraged by comparison. I can easily lose sight of the vision that was ignited in my heart, for my family. 

The image of a hearth is not new for me, as the title of my blog suggests. But I have only recently begun to apply it to the area of home education. I’m currently in a season of evaluating what we’ve done so far, and looking ahead to how we will move forward. But before I can get into the practical elements of planning, I’m taking some time to sketch out the big picture again. 

And I’m picturing home education like a hearth. These are some thoughts that are helping me envision the kind of learning life I want to kindle in our home. 

~ Gathering ~

The hearth is a place of gathering. 

The flame draws us to itself, and to each other. 

It’s a place of coming close and reconnecting.

The hearth is a communal place, and room must be made for all of us. 

This is the beautiful power of fire. We are brought together by something bigger than any one of us. We draw up to a flame that has burned for century upon century. We are in good company. 

The hearth says, you are not alone. 

~ Warmth ~

The hearth is a place of warmth. 

It takes the chill out of the air. It thaws icy attitudes. It melts stubborn ways. It softens hard edges.

In the warmth we can relax, and be ourselves. 

The hearth is a comfortable place, and a comforting place. 

Here we receive rest for our weariness, and balm for the chapped places of life. 

Here we curl up and know that it is well with our souls. 

The hearth says, you are at home.

~ Cheer ~

The hearth is a cheery place. 

Fire dances and flickers and crackles and sings. 

The hearth is a place for kindling joy and sparking delight. 
It’s a merry place. (Hobbits and badgers most welcome.) 

It's a place for laughter and cocoa and tales of adventure. 

Fire revives us, reminds us to lift up our heads and lighten our hearts. 

The hearth says, you can kick up your heels. 

~ Sustenance ~

The hearth is a place of sustenance.

It is over the fire that the tea kettle whistles and the stone soup simmers. 

It is over the fire that the raw ingredients of the day are brought together into something that is nourishing for all. 

It is deep under the coals that soul food is baked, steady and stick-to-your-ribs. 

It’s a place to partake, to share the bread and wine. 

The hearth says, you have everything you need. 

~ Light ~

The hearth is a place of light.

By the glow of fire, we see things as they are meant to be seen. 

We see truth. We see living ideas. 

Something in us becomes illuminated. Inspiration flashes and ignites creativity, passion, wonder. 

At the hearth our torches are lit, torches which we will carry out to the corners of our world and light our varied paths. 

The hearth says, you were made for discovery.

~ Invitation ~

The hearth is a place of invitation. 

First, we gather as family. 

And the circle expands to friends, neighbours, and others we know and love.

The fire is always bright enough for more. The circle extends to those for whom our windows glow as beacons in the night. 

It is not ours to hide under a bushel, but to blaze as a signal on a hill, summoning hope and signalling home. 

The hearth says, you are always welcome. 

This is the image I want to keep burning in my mind's eye as we forge ahead into our next chapter of home education. 

* image: By the Hearth, 1894, by Philip Eustace Stretton

 ~lg

The Benefits of Our Outdoor Life Challenge

This is the first year that Jack's apple tree has had blossoms! Very exciting!

It's been quite a few weeks that we've been out of our usual routine. Between getting ready for a 19 day family road trip, the trip itself, getting back to life as normal, friends coming to stay for a few days, and just the usual chaos of homeschooling with three little kids, life has been anything but routine! 

Have I forgotten the Outdoor Life Challenge? No, but it has morphed into a different form. I haven't been keeping logs and tallies, but we have been prioritizing time outside. And June is a glorious month to be outside! As the weather gets warmer and lovelier, we are in and out of the house in a way that doesn't make sense to track. Without our usual schedule, we haven't been doing much for formal nature study. 

But the Great Outdoors has become an extension of our everyday living now. The grass is warm and thick beneath our toes. The swings, the hammock, the front porch swing, all beckon us out. Flowers are popping out everywhere. There are a dozen shades of green to revel in. 

The garden path

In some ways, the Challenge wasn't everything I had hoped it to be. We didn't do as much nature journalling as I would have liked. I started a sort of "Calendar of Firsts" for myself, but then we were away for so long. I didn't get to try out all of the Charlotte Mason methods I had wanted to. 

But we made progress! And we'll keep going. And even with things going the way they did, I can still the results of the intention and effort we put into spending more time outdoors. 

Here's what I've seen:

1. Heightened Observation

This spider lives just outside our dining room window

My kids are more apt to take notice of what is around them. They are more tuned in to nature's details. They are becoming more observant. 

This really stood out to me on our trip to Ontario. One day we went for a walk in the suburbs of Ajax, looking for a park. Though our walk was on the concrete sidewalks, we stopped many times because the kids were busy observing things along the way. They wanted to smell a lilac bush. They wanted to figure out which nearby plant the seeds on the sidewalk had come from. They kept picking up tiny bits of nature to inspect more closely. They even remembered our way home based on the flowers they saw growing in people's front gardens. 

Observation is the key to nature study. It all starts with pausing to pay attention. To really look at something. And I can see this quality increasing in the kids as we've made nature study part of our lives. 

2. Delight in the Small Things

A dandelion seed

A monarch butterfly. A tiny white flower we've never seen before. Quartz hiding in a rock. First blossoms on our pear trees. The quivering gills of a sunfish up close and personal in our hands. 

These seemingly insignificant details have brought real joy into our lives. I love the excitement in my kids' eyes when they run to me with some new discovery. The natural outcome of heightened observation is heightened delight.

When we learn to look we learn to love. 

Knowledge is only part of the picture. Wonder, respect, delight - these are what colour in the bare sketch of "facts" and bring our relationship with the outdoor world to life. 

3. A New Normal

In her own front porch swing

I love it when one of the kids says, "We should put this in our nature journal," or, "Let's get out the bird book," or, "Let's look at this under the microscope." (My 7 year old asked for a pocket microscope for her birthday!) I love that they are becoming familiar with some of these tools for exploring nature. 

I love it when going outside is so much a part of our daily rhythm that they stop fighting it.

I love that the flowers and feathered creatures of our yard are becoming familiar friends. 

I love that my daughter, who is working on a puzzle at the table right now, just remarked, "Oh, there's a seagull out there," when she heard a bird call off in the distance. 

Are we doing this perfectly? No. Could we be doing more? Yes. Do we have a lot to learn? Oh yes. 

But I can see it happening before my eyes, and it's exciting. 

Our relationship with the outdoor world is becoming stronger and deeper. Nature is getting under our skin and becoming part of who we are. 

It's a process for sure. The best we can do is start where we are and keep going! I hope no one feels discouraged if you haven't got your family into the Great Outdoors as much as you would like. Just keep at it, and I know you'll see the fruit! 

This Challenge has no grades, no prizes, and no losers. Every small win counts. Every minute adds up to those golden hours. I'm hoping to take the progress we've made so far and keep building. Keep wondering. Keep growing. 

Happy Outdoorsing!

~ Lindsey

Finding Focus in the Online Frenzy

First gaze on a first book

Help! I'm getting stuck in the homeschool interwebs! In an online world of slick sites and shiny blogs, everyone's got a printable, an ebook, a newsletter, a podcast, a planner, or a curriculum that will be the one simple thing you need to either organize or revolutionize your homeschool experience! The homeschool universe is ever expanding, and there are enough ideas out there to keep you learning to infinity - and beyond!

The trouble is, I don't have till infinity. I have a few precious years with my children, and only so many hours in the day. There are many homeschoolers out there doing many wonderful things, and I have found inspiration and ideas from more than a few. But I find it all too easy to become dizzy and distracted by the plethora of options, which leads to comparison and second guessing at best, and panic at worst.

When I start to feel overwhelmed, I find it helpful to log off, sit back, and think about the core ideas behind our family's commitment to home education. I'm a person who needs to constantly reorient myself to the big picture, which focuses me and energizes me to then think about the details.

I remind myself of our underlying philosophy of education (thanks Charlotte Mason):

Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, and a life. 


I remind myself of basic governing principles for our family life (thanks Auntie Leila):

Order and wonder. 


I remind myself of our own family's goals:

To raise children whose affections are ordered toward truth, goodness and beauty, who are growing in the wisdom and skills needed to follow Christ along the unique path he is leading them in life.


I remind myself of our chosen method of getting there:

Relationships
Real Life
Living Books


When I consider these ideas, I can already feel my focus returning. (Maybe I'll expand on these in another post. For now, I'm putting them out here purely for my own benefit.) I can sift through all that good information out there and select the things that best fit our own approach to education.

Like I said, I'm energized by philosophy and big ideas. So for me, the websites I find most helpful are those that feed this area. I need my own mind and spirit fortified by truth, goodness, and beauty, and then I can handle how that gets worked out in everyday life. I get bogged down in too many details. For me, the details have to flow out of the big picture.

~

Having said all that, here are the websites that I'm personally finding helpful as we begin this home education adventure:

Like Mother, Like Daughter - Common sense education, Charlotte Mason style (Auntie Leila introduced me to Charlotte Mason, and I have been a faithful follower of her blog since my oldest was a baby)

The Read-Aloud Revival - Cultivating a family culture around books; fun and inspiring literary podcast, with book lists and other resources

Schole Sisters - A podcast for the classically inclined, big picture meets practical application (I also enjoy the blogs of the podcast hosts)

Ambleside Online - Free Charlotte Mason curriculum and living book lists, with links to Charlotte
Mason's works online

The Circe Institute - Classical education resources, blogs and podcasts

Education is a Life - Charlotte Mason the Canadian way, written by a friend and fellow homeschooler on the island

They Call Me Blessed - A blog by another friend showing the many sides of home education


~lg

I Speak Joy: A Mother's Blessing

I am delighted to announce the arrival of our daughter, Ivy Joy, born on Good Friday! 

What follows is a blessing I scribbled out on the back of a piece of paper one night a few weeks before she was born. We didn't know whether we were having a boy or a girl, but I had an inkling that I carried a girl. And I had more than an inkling that this baby was somehow connected to all I have been discovering about joy. Her very name is part of my blessing to her, and God's blessing to me. "Ivy" stands for faithfulness, and "Joy," well, it speaks for itself! 

My darling,

I speak joy over your coming. 

Joy as you grow, and bloom to bursting,

Joy as you waken to life in the wide world,

Joy as you are received into the arms of your family,

And joy as our Father laughs to behold His reflection in your eyes. 

I speak joy over our meeting.

Joy as we weave our bonds of love,

Joy as we learn each other’s names,

Joy through the sleepless nights,

And joy as we count each sunrise together.

I speak joy over your future.

The wonder-filled joy of discovery,

The riotous joy of whole hearted freedom,

The steadfast joy of a deep-held faithfulness,

And the fiercely won joy of the sorrowful night.

I speak joy over you.

Unspeakable and full of glory,

Fruit of the presence of God,

Fire bright and blazing beauty,

The strength of a hundred hind’s feet on the heights.

I speak joy as my mother’s blessing,

A gift of words and of heart’s desire,

A beseeching prayer for divine bestowal,

A promise kindled by heaven’s purpose,

And my song of praise overflowing. 

{This post was originally published on my main writing blog, The Red Letters Blog. For more about Ivy, parenting, prayer, joy and God, click on over!}

~lg

Ongoing rhythm

We are still working out our rhythm over here. Seasons of the earth and seasons of the children's lives change, and we find different ways to make our family music together. Some days we get carried away by a delightful descant, or a bit lost in improv, and that's ok. Other days we forget our notes altogether and everything seems out of sync and out of tune. But we aim for some kind of steady rhythm to keep us moving on the ancient paths while singing our own new song.

This is the beat that keeps us moving well:

- Being "ready for the day" while the day is still young
- Cleaning up after meals as close as possible to the meal itself
- Having dinners planned in advance
- Lots of time outside (hours, ideally) - gardening, yardwork, biking, playing, walking
   * Kids get tired out, house stays tidier! We all win!
- Story time and book rests in the afternoon
- A clean dining room and kitchen before bed

Repeating patterns:

- Bible reading and prayer time (sometimes with singing) around 10:00 am
- Memory verse at lunch time (new idea!)
- Family Bible reading at supper

Notes to hit every day:

- Music (singing, playing piano or drums, dancing in the kitchen)
- Books
- The Great Outdoors

Variations:

- Art/crafts (I need to get more organized with ideas, as this does not come naturally to me)
- Games or activities (Again, more organization needed!)
- Playdates and outings


I see how a daily rhythm helps Arden (first we put away the cutlery, then we read the Bible in the living room...), and how it helps me (clear the table first...) to stay on track without having to think about things too much - ah, the power of habit! I want to make sure we are wearing paths in the right direction.

~lg

morning gift

To see the morning as gift – this is the prayer of the tired mother. When even the day itself threatens to become one big inconvenience, it must be remade in this whispered offering, made into the day I can rejoice in. To let go of the covers is to give up the warm comforts of self and most coveted sleep, and I open my hands and stumble down the hall and into what I hope is grace to make these steps firm today.

Cries from the crib change to coos in my arms and a big flannel smile. The fire flickers into a blaze and the coffee blooms in the French press, and I can feel some warmth seeping in. It’s not the warmth of the bed, no; it is the warmth of a day begun, a day chosen. A day I may have to offer again so I can live this gift and not let it slip away, not stomp all over it because it is not going my way.

A little boy bounces with joy, wide eyed for the wide open day, and I smile too, whisper a thank you for the day – yes, even the morning.

~lg

Positions Available: The School of Young Women

The School of Young Women: INSTRUCTORS WANTED IMMEDIATELY

Position: Older Woman

Number of positions available: Infinite

Tenure is permanent, full-time

Positions needed immediately; class enrollment is high

Qualified applicants will have the following qualities:

Reverent behavior

Ability to teach what is good

Personal experience with the course subjects

Applicants will be disqualified for:

Malicious gossip

Too much wine

See course description below:

The School of Young Women

Instructors:         Older Women of the Church

Timetable:          Ongoing

Location:              Various homes

Course Objectives:

·         To promote and sustain the formation of the godly wife, mother and homeworker.

·         To uphold the honour of the word of God

Course text:

·         Titus 2:3-5

·         The word of God

Subjects:

·         The love of one’s husband

·         The love of one’s children

·         The work of the home

·         Character cultivation:

o   Sensibility

o   Purity

o   Kindness

·         Christian marital submission

Specialists currently wanted in the following areas:

Whiny children, time management, sleep deprivation, curbing cabin fever, prayer

Applications many be submitted to your local church.
Alternatively, private tutoring may be offered at any time to the nearest frazzled mother.

Queen of the Realm

I come downstairs after both kids are tucked snugly into bed, one-and-a-half out of two asleep. The house has that disheveled look of a day well lived.

Peepo, one of our favourite books, pulled off the shelf. The table strewn with after-supper artwork and bowls of homemade paint. Pickwick, our new kitten, chasing cheerios and peas across the dining room floor. More socks than the number of children’s feet in this house dropped in diverse places. (They multiply on the floor and disappear in the dryer – oh the strange magic of socks.) One last pile of laundry waiting for a bath. A stray, sticky pot. Bits and pieces of our little life, the evidence of moments spent and shared and sewn together, stitching us together.

For today I’ve held little hands and whole squirming bodies of babies and what seems like a dozen things at once, yet somehow it’s all holding me, and it’s all here.

A sense of accomplishment sneaks up on me, as that of a sovereign surveying her domain with the satisfaction of a realm at rest. The cat looks at me as if I’m being ridiculous.

Yes, I am still going to have to finish the dishes, do that laundry, pick up those socks, sweep the floor, put the hedgehog family (and all their miniature friends and relations) back in the play barn, and otherwise tidy up.

But by some special grace, I am able to see this to-do list tonight as a to-thank list. To take joy in this quiet moment of messy contentment.

To feel somehow like a queen in the midst of a maidservant’s work.

~lg