Friday, September 1, 2017

The First Month: Pom Poms, Pattern Blocks, and Liturgy



This stack right here, if you threw in half a dozen nursery rhyme books, would give the most accurate peek into life right now. The bulk of every day goes to the actual nourishing of the hearts and minds (and tummies) of three hungry little girls, but the inbetweens and afters? It's equally split right here, learning how to do that while also trying to keep myself fed.

It's a little crazy but I like it. Somewhere between the math lessons and the two o clock snacks, I'm finding new and constant little jolts happening, reminding me to seek wisdom -  to stop and pray about this small thing I don't understand or that bigger thing I can't see my way through. Maybe I'd grown too comfortable with the old ones that happened between two am feedings and stuffed animal tea parties? I guess I can see a little foggy eyed sense in that. The great thing about being in the unknowns again though, is that for every all their tiring perplexity, they're also fruitful.

I'd forgotten that.

These long fallowed fields of my mind are suddenly sprouting with interest and curiosity and I'm growing a little right beside my girls. Things I've tried and tried to understand for years are becoming a little more clear now. How can I better put it. . . that after all these years of trying to peek into the heart of God through the windows of understanding opened to others, mine is finally opening in this most unexpected place. Maybe it's due to a teensy bit more life being lived or maybe it's a completely spiritual thing, but either way it's a new kind of wonder for me.


And now we're into September. Crazy, right? I'm glad for it though, because it signals the beginning of Autumn. Granted, it was incredibly warm and I didn't start it out on the right foot (totally had to jump ship halfway through our tiny load of Friday studies due to my bad attitude), but God redeems even these bad beginnings somehow. That's what I kept pounding into my heart, at least (despite the apple-sage latte, I'm still barely able to grab hold of that promise).


Equally hard to grasp are some of the studies we're already wrapping up, like the early explorers and the first quarter of a math book. "Did we really just do that?" I keep asking myself, because having a kid old enough to be doing these things still strikes me as surreal. It's been fun though, so fun. And, if I may echo my last post, so humbling.

The ugly truth is that I'm more ignorant than I care to admit and aesthetically minded than I consciously want to be, so if education is truly an ordering of the affections? Then Charlotte Mason, Elsie Ludicello, and my own dear MIL have been the oil to our gears this first month. Their insightful wisdom have helped me begin to grasp what this ordering of the affections looks like with lukewarm coffee in hand and toddlers running laps through the obstacle course that our home has temporarily taken on the look of.


We've played with subjects and schedules like putty, squeezing and molding to have that natural feel in our hands, shaping it to get to "good enough for now," and trying to remember not to bake it into a permanence that has the likelihood of eventually breaking. Learning is weird like that.

I will say that I did end up persisting in those breaks between subjects, and after a little trial and error, it ended up being the right thing. A needs the time to digest, the little people need it for routine reminders that they're a part of all this too, and I need it as a reminder to not rush (and so I can routinely make fresh pots of tea). Regardless, it was painful to figure out. At the point of totally writing off the idea, I came across the tip of putting each new subject at the top of each needed hour and letting the child(ren) finish in their own time (could be five minutes, could be the forty five) and then use the rest of the hour as they like. "Hey," I thought, "A can read hours so this could take some of the struggle of time management off my shoulders. This might work!" All I can say is that heavenly choirs broke into song the day that we implemented it (still singing, by the way).

Actually, the real joy in this has been seeing the things we study together go from getting buried under one another to coming alive with a little reflective space. "Mom," A said to me just the other morning after art studies, "S and I are visiting Monet's garden today. It's pretend but I want her to see it too. Someday though, we're going to the real one together. We'll send you a postcard."

This kind of thing wouldn't have happened before.


Did I mention before that my kids are super hands on learners? I am too but I somehow ended up not being an arts and crafts kind of person. The girls though? If some kind of hands on project isn't involved then it takes twenty times longer to grasp and is that much harder to enjoy. Go figure. Needless to say, that's been one of the other big struggles.

Of all the things, it was a podcast episode on biblical literacy that helped me stop fighting it so hard. Jen Wilkin was talking about how important it is to have context before digging in and I had that moment of, "oh! . . . oh." Because what I had been reading the night before in Karen Glass's book and vaguely picked up in a recent Aftercast episode suddenly fell into place beside this idea.

This part of education is context - building the foundation of ideas in whole. The opinions, the shortcuts, the digging deeper all comes later when we already know and have worked with the bigger processes that we're shortcutting or the mountainous terrain of an idea that is being dug into. So in short, seeing, hearing, touching, and tasting these whole ideas and concepts are these early years of education. Living literature is one side of the coin for sure, but dipping our hands into the concepts is the other just as necessary side to imprinting it on our hearts.

So we're finding middle ground.


I had to wait (a little anxiously) for it to happen, but subjects have started to trickle into one another now. This last week, a lesson on patterns led to patterns in nature, that led to A pointing out the pattern of the sun rising and setting, which moved right along into directions (east, west, etc.), which eventually ended in a conversation about how the early explorers navigated their adventures.

It doesn't always happen this way, I know the seasoned moms are going to be quick to say, but I'm thinking it's worth the slow merging and patience for places where it does because that's most like life? Liturgy, rather. Taking all the moments and people and things that trickle one into another to form a pattern that we can either ignore or take up as an opportunity to worship in and through. But how will we know unless we recognize it?

That right there seems the truer education.

1 comment:

  1. Learning is life long (hopefully), and the excitement of teaching is that we get to 'get it' this time around! What a privilege for me to see homeschooling vicariously through the sacrament of your little family. I realize now it is first spiritual and second educational. It is a balance, as you say, but an important one to keep mindful of. I like this definition of liturgy: liturgy is a communal response to and participation in, the sacred through activity reflecting praise, thanksgiving, supplication or repentance. ♥

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