Thoughts on Homeschooling

I want to begin this by saying that I do not think that homeschooling is the only valid option when it comes to educating children. So many throw stones about this kind of thing; I don't want to be among them. If I'm honest, homeschooling would probably not have been my ideal. I would have loved to put Ava in a nurturing, challenging private school where the gospel was before her every day, because she would love it and it would be easier. But our budget can't support that (especially when all four kids are in school), so homeschooling seemed to be the right fit for our family.

Even though homeschooling was an unexpected destination for me, I really love it. I am a trained educator who taught in a public school, so I have some opinions about how things should be done, and some social and academic scenarios I'd rather not see played out in my kids' lives. Homeschooling gives me the opportunity to make their education what I think it should be.

We've been at this for a few months, so I thought it a good time to reflect on why we're doing this, what's hard, and how I see my children learning and growing. Also, since homeschooling is still a bit of a cultural oddity, people express a fair amount of curiosity about it. How is it going? How do you do it with three other kids? What do you do all day? Are you weird?

So here are some of my thoughts after a semester or so of homeschooling:

The why: When Daniel and I were discussing school options, we asked ourselves what would be best for our kids first spiritually and next academically. I will say that it has never been our goal as parents to control the externals so that we can produce "good kids" that won't get themselves into trouble. It is our goal to point them toward repentance and an inward heart change that results in outward change. This is tricky, because inward heart change is the work of the Holy Spirit, but we certainly have a role to play as parents. God gave us the primary responsibility of raising our kids, and at the very least if we entrusted some of that task to someone else we wanted to trust that we would be supported in our work as parents. In these years, our children are so vulnerable and impressionable, and we want to be the primary influence in their lives. And while they have some measure of faith, we personally felt that we wanted to be more confident that Jesus had their hearts before we considered public school. We did not want to send them into a battle for which they are unprepared. They will, of course, have more exposure to the world as they grow and mature, but we want to help equip them for that by showing them how to love and engage people who don't know Jesus in the safety of our own home. Given all this, public school didn't seem like a good option for us at this time. And since private school is out of reach for us financially, homeschooling was the logical choice.

Academically, we had some very general goals for them. We want them to stay creative, imaginative, and curious. We want them to be able to solve problems and communicate well. And we want them to love to to learn. These are stated goals almost everywhere. I'm not sure anyone really knows how to go about achieving them. Do I think I'm going to do it perfectly?  By no means. Do I think I'm probably better suited to it than my local public school? Absolutely.

How: An article I read about the first year of homeschooling advised: let this be the year you figure it out. It's good advice. I'm trying to keep things simple this year and not get too upset if all the things I have planned don't get done. Mostly, I want my kids to love to learn. When I get discouraged and overwhelmed, I keep reminding myself that if we succeed in that this year, we will be doing well.

What we're doing: I started teaching Ava to read in the spring using a basic phonics curriculum. She had been showing signs of reading readiness for a while, and I figured if we could get her reading before the baby arrived it would take some of the pressure off of our first year of homeschooling. We start every school day with Long Story Short, a biblical theology devotional for families that goes through the whole Old Testament. Having a consistent devotional time with them is one of my favorite things about homeschooling. I also ordered Singapore Kindergarten Math, which the kids love. For fun, I bought a used set of Five in a Row curricula, which are unit studies based on classic kids' literature. I figured this would serve as a jumping off point for reading good books. My sister-in-law used this curriculum and recommended it, and since my kids already love to read, it is making for an easier transition to formal schooling. Other than that, Ava goes to an enrichment program once a week (which she loves), and I do a letter/number a week with Timmy for preschool.

Surprises: Speaking of Tim, it has surprised me how much he has tagged along with Ava. He just started phonics, but he's doing the same math as Ava, and does all of our unit studies with us.

A month of two ago, he randomly announced: "I want to learn about the rainforest!" So by golly, we went to the library and got some books about the rainforest. It got me thinking: why not build that into our school week? There are plenty of things that I plan for them, but I love letting them have some room for self-directed learning. I think that's what really counts when it comes to developing lifelong learners: engaging their natural curiosity and helping them learn to how to find out what they want to know. So I do a lot of legwork finding them really interesting books about the things their interested in, be that trains, butterflies, snowflakes, mushrooms, flowers, or robots.

All that makes me a bit of an unschooler, which is a surprise. I suppose it shouldn't be since structure is not my strong suit and, in addition to that, we have a 3-month-old routine buster in our house. As a result, we haven't really established a schedule. We didn't really have a firm start date for school, and I don't really have a firm end date in mind either. We have a general to do list for the day, but we cram the tasks wherever they fit. While I do think they need to learn some basics (reading/math), our attitude has, in general, been "Hey! Let's go to the library and learn some stuff!"

Socialization: I think what people mean when they ask about this is, "Aren't homeschoolers a little weird?" Maybe. I don't know. But one of our prayers for Ava since she was born has been that she would be delightfully different. And anyway, our girl (and boy, for that matter) were born social. Just ask the 100 people they talk to at church on Sunday.

What I love: I love seeing my kids excited about learning, and I love being a part of the process. I love seeing them ask questions like: Where is the Yangtze River? How does an apple grow? What is a moonjelly and why does it glow? How can a quilt tell a story? What's it like to drive an excavator? How can juggling be worship? I love seeing them wonder and be in awe of the intricacies of this world, and I love being here to point them to the God who made it.

Not every minute is not glorious. Most are downright mundane. I feel overwhelmed constantly. I told Daniel the other day that it's like I'm playing whack-a-mole with not enough mallets. Balancing school and taking care of a home and four kids is difficult. I'm sure it won't get easier. But for right now, I believe we are doing what is right for our kids. And yes, I'm weird.

He Bears Me Up.

I looked at this blog the other day, and I realized my last post was right before I was induced with our fourth child. I'm sure all of you are on pins and needles wondering if I had the baby. But since I'm pretty sure that "all of you" is my mom, it's probably okay.

You know when you avoid something for a long time, and then when you want to come back to it, it's completely overwhelming and you feel like it's impossible to get caught up and so you just throw up your hands and feel guilty about it? That. This blog.

So anyway.

We had our baby. A little girl. Her name is Clara. She looked like this:

Then she doubled in size. Now she looks like this:

She's really cute and very sweet. She smiles a lot.

We are now a family of six. We get some interesting comments when we go out, of which my favorite is "Are they all yours?" What does that even mean? Are you asking if I run a daycare? If I brought some neighbor kids along for kicks?

Sometimes I forget that they are all so little. I guess seeing them collectively is overwhelming for people.

Heck, it's overwhelming for me. In some ways, I understand why people say it's not a big deal to have another once you have three. Life goes on. O bla di. We do our normal routine with baby in tow. I'm not so stressed out over the newborn phase. She sleeps when she's tired. She eats when she's hungry. She finds a way to fit into the chaos. In a way, it's old hat. Not that it's easy or less special, because it's not and I really enjoy her. But I don't have the time or energy to stress about the minutiae.

But in other ways, it's completely overwhelming. Everything is harder with a baby in your arms. Making dinner. Keeping a clean house (ha!). Helping a little one onto the potty. Changing a diaper. Disciplining a child. Going to the doctor 30 times since her birth (not an exaggeration).

It all kind of caught up with me yesterday. In late October, Genevieve got her first set of tubes. Yesterday, Timmy got his second set, and his adenoids removed. They both did great, and I think it was the right thing to do. But I realized that I've been going non-stop for a long time, and I am running on fumes. A difficult labor. A fourth child. Scores of doctor's appointments. Homeschooling. Two surgeries. I'm exhausted. It's enough to make me want to cry, "I want my Mommy!" (And Daniel knows, I have).

But in this, I know that God has been with me.  I've been reading the Psalms, and I've repeatedly read that he hears my cries. He answers me. He delivers me.

It seems strange to talk about deliverance when speaking of motherhood; it's not suffering. It's just really, really hard. And emptying. I take so much joy in them, but they need me all day, every day. If I don't remember that I need God's strength for this, all day, every day, I'm going to burn out. I need him to deliver me. Each day, I need new mercies.

So, I find myself all the more thankful that God is with me, holding me up, delivering me. I trust that he knows that this is good for me, and he knows what he is accomplishing in me through this season of weariness. And I echo the Psalmist when he writes, "Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up. God is our salvation" (Psalm 69:19). Praise God. He bears me up.

Induction

As I write, I'm reclining in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm, waiting for the kind nurses at Elmhurst Memorial to induce labor for our fourth child.  It's a strange experience for me to walk into the hospital knowing this is the day I'll meet our little bundle (whose gender is yet unknown).  I've always simply allowed things to take their course.  But my labor with sweet little Genevieve was less than 2 hours in duration, and I am Group B Strep positive, which means I need two doses of antibiotics 4 hours apart to protect our baby.  We did the math and decided induction was the wisest and lowest risk thing we could do.  So here I sit.

If you think of it, we would appreciate prayers today.  Specifically, we would appreciate your prayers for:

-A healthy baby!
-That baby would respond to what they are doing and be willing to come meet us today.
-For peace for us. That God would calm our nerves in a familiar (yet unfamiliar?) process.
-Strength for Daniel. That God would grant him endurance today.  He'll need it.

Love you all!

Full of Good Things

Part of having a slew of preschoolers parading behind you is being told constantly that your hands are full.

"Wow! Your hands are full!"

"I don't think your hands are full enough!"

"Has anyone ever told you that your hands are full?"

I usually respond with a knowing grin. My hands are full, and I know it. I'm sure they know I know it. It is, most often, this stranger's way of showing empathy for the stage of life I'm in. Of acknowledging that having three kids five and under (and one more on the way) makes even the most mundane tasks challenging. 

But, after reading this article by Rachel Jankovic, I've been rethinking my response. Even a knowing grin or a harried "I know..." communicates something to my kids. In no way do I want to say to my children that I resent them, that they are an imposition or a hindrance. I want to affirm that, even though motherhood is the most difficult task I have ever undertaken, they are treasured and loved. Primarily, I do this by showing them my love--by giving them hugs and kisses, cooking with them, reading with them, feeding them, washing their clothes, comforting them in the middle of the night, and serving them sacrificially.  But my speech is important too, and it is especially tempting to complain or grab at sympathy from other adults. "See? Isn't this hard? Look what I have to put up with!"

So, I want to remind myself and affirm to my kids that my hands are full, but they are full of good things. I want them to know that God says they are a blessing and a heritage, and I believe it. 

Parenthood is hard, but it's good. It's good not only because each of them is precious, though my heart swells when I think of them. It's also good because it's hard. They call me every day to lay down my life for them, and ultimately for Christ. I would not trade one of them for a clean house, a little more sanity, or hands less full. 

...And a Happy New Year!

Greetings, Friends!

It’s always been our custom as a married couple to sit down during the holidays and write a Christmas letter. We’ve seen it as a chance to reconnect with friends and family we don’t see very often, reflect on the year, and give thanks to God for his faithfulness to our family. It has always been one of the few non-negotiable to-dos during the Christmas season.

This year, it didn’t happen.

There are a number of reasons that it seemed downright impossible to accomplish this year, but there are three little blessings in particular who have been the primary reason for the delay in this letter. Little blessings that eat all day, create mounds of laundry, are unsatisfied unless every toy bin and cabinet has been emptied, and who, if left alone for 43 seconds, will find a way to climb on top of our minivan.

They are wonderful. We are busy.

It, however, did not seem right to ring in the new year without reflecting on the old, to begin anew without recounting what the Lord has done for us this year. We are overflowing with joy for what He has done, if a little exhausted from the journey.

One of the primary sources of that joy and fatigue is our dear little Genevieve Grace, who arrived on January 10th after a frantic 104 minutes of labor (including the drive to the hospital!).

The only way to adequately describe her is delightful: she has the sweetest little spirit, a gentle temperament, and the most infectious baby giggle one can imagine. She’s very active (now almost walking), but she always comes back to snuggle. We love her fiercely, and she has brought so much joy to our family in the past year. Still, the leap from two children to three has proved greater than we anticipated. After her stay in the hospital with meningitis, three months of sleeping in shifts because she wouldn’t suffer being put down, and recent lack of sleep due to colds and teething, we have discovered that parenthood may be weathered only with strength from the Father, caffeine, and grace. We could not have survived this year without any of these three.

As long as we are on the topic of additions, we have one more to share with you: in early August, Karriza, a friend from church, moved into our home. She needed a place to live and we were delighted to offer her our extra bedroom. She has quickly become a part of our family, affectionately referring to us as “Uncle Dan” and “Aunt Jill.” Originally from Guam, she shares our island sensibility and love of spam fried rice. She has been a blessing to all of us; the kids adore her and she has been a great source of help and companionship to Jill. Her presence in our home has been a tangible reminder that Christ makes family of those who are not. We are grateful to be able to live in true community, to bear each other’s burdens, to pray and encourage one another daily, and to pour out the grace we have received on one another.

We strive to make grace the heartbeat of our family, and nowhere is our need of grace more evident than in our parenting. We enjoy Ava and Timothy immensely, but we are always aware that we are sinful, broken parents bringing up sinful, broken kids. We fail constantly. It’s a pleasure to see how God uses even our failings and our shortcomings to shape them, and how He is priming their ears to receive the gospel every day. They are, of course, incredibly beautiful kids, and we have been blessed to continue to discover how God has made them.

This year has been one of discovery particularly for Tim, two-and-a-half, most notably because he is now talking so much. After six months of chronic ear infections and fluid on his ears, we decided that the wisest course of action was to have tubes put in. Since then, he has very quickly learned new words and is now speaking in full paragraphs! It’s been a joy to finally hear the things he’s thinking, though it’s revealed him to be more of a rascal than we previously gave him credit for. A rascal he may be, but he’s also a sweet little kid, the most conscientious of our bunch, the most likely to say “thank you” and truly mean it from the bottom of his little heart. It melts my heart to hear him say, “I loves you!” He’s going to make some girl a good husband one day.

Ava is now four-and-a-half, which doesn’t sound too daunting until I realize that she will be five in April and will start school in August. We still have not a clue what we are doing for schooling, but we have been doing reading lessons as often as time permits (perhaps once a week), and she is getting the hang of it. She is ever the social butterfly, and it makes my heart happy to see her love without reservation. She is gifted at making people feel loved and accepted, and I am constantly challenged to love people better because of her.

Together, Ava and Tim are a force—they lend new meaning to the term creative destruction. A few of their favorite things to do: play with Legos, build forts, pull the couch cushions onto the floor, play darkout, pretend they are anything they please, demand stories, and attempt to drive their mommy batty. They certainly keep Jill on her toes. She mostly finds herself in triage mode, trying to figure out what the most important thing to do is at any given moment. She fights daily to balance the tasks that keep the family running (laundry, cooking, cleaning) with those that keep the children feeling loved (reading, cuddling, playing). She is learning more and more a posture of dependence and that her approval from God doesn’t rest on how many of the items on her to-do list get checked off.

Daniel has struggled this year in different ways. His job had become progressively harder to bear—forcing him to work in a discouraging work environment, to pursue business in a difficult economic climate, and taking him to India again in October. Shortly after he returned from India, however, a new job opportunity presented itself at Halvorson & Partners, a firm in downtown Chicago. He accepted the offer and started a few weeks ago. He is excited to be working where his gifts are being used and where he is learning. We are so grateful to God for providing this opportunity for him.

We are ever more aware, as 2012 has closed and 2013 has begun, of the depth of God’s goodness toward us. We find ourselves more thankful for his grace, provision, and steadfast love toward us and confident that he will provide all we need in this new year. We pray that you would also hope in him this year.

Love,

Daniel, Jill, Karriza, Ava, Timothy, and Genevieve


Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.  ~Ephesians 3:20-21