Homeschooling - Is it better?

If the truth be told, I was am an anxious mother. When The Girl began to approach school age, I began to worry about this tiny, delicate child being subjected to schoolbus rides and playground injuries and every other conceivable risk of leaving the home. After all, she had been cared for by my mother for four tender years, how could she cope?

But for me, homeschooling was not an option. I had to work and so the child had to be sent to the public schools. In the beginning, once my fears wore off a bit, it seemed a good thing. But now that she is older and facing more difficult tasks, I see that homeschooling might well have been more successful for her and the trade-off in socializing experience was not enough to make up for the deficiencies of a public school education.

The statistics bear this out. Homeschooled children fare at least as well as children in public school on standardized tests and in some cases far exceed their scores. According to an article in the Wall Street Journal in February 2000, homeschooled kids scored better than average on both SAT and ACT college entrance tests.

For those who can manage to be home and are interested in homeschooling their children, there are now some really excellent resources that can help.  For parents who want to homeschool, there are programs that can be a great asset. 

Homeschooled kids do not become socially inept flops, but confident and well-educated adults whose success has been proved over and over.

I remember...

There are times when I feel that I remember very little of my childhood and other times when strange images and experiences of my senses come flooding back. If I close my eyes just now, I can see the old Stride Rite shoe store.  It's long gone now and there's a  small shopping center occupying the space.

In those days, children's shoes were a serious business. They weren't just adult styles made tinier with the appropriate cartoon character emblazoned on the upper as they are today. Children never wore sneakers or even shoes that appeared comfortable. They were well-structured boots that were designed to support those unstable toddler ankles. It was supposed we would never learn to walk properly unless our feet were trained to do so.

I don't really remember being fitted for shoes, or what kind I wore. I remember the store. I remember it being very bright with white walls, inside and out. Mostly, I remember the carousel.

There was a carousel in the store. While mothers shopped, children rode the carousel. Perhaps we got a ride once we'd behaved and quietly had our feet custom-shod. Perhaps our mothers simply needed a few moments of peace while we were being entertained. I don't remember.

I remember the carousel and inside this memory, the feeling of being a child and more importantly, being my mother's child. Each memory of her is precious, so I search through the hazy fog of time to find them and fine-tune them, to experience them once again and keep them safely tucked away in some region of my brain that won't discard them. Memories are spotty things, and sometimes I don't have enough of them to fill the void my mother left in my life when she died.

Words and Music and Memory

It's been many years since I lived with a piano. I have not had daily access to one since I moved away from home. So it's wonderful and strange to once again share my space with one of these imposing pieces of musical furniture.

The piano that now sits in my front hallway beckoned me yesterday when I came upon some old Gilbert and Sullivan sheet music. I sat to play, but it wasn't the plaintive strains of Tit Willow that sent me into reverie, it was what fell out of the book of sheet music.

Hidden away between the pages were some photographs of my mother and father, taken perhaps a year or so before my mother became ill and only a couple of years before their deaths. I felt startled, but I cannot say why. They are familiar faces of loved ones, faces one has known for a lifetime yet strangely missing for some time from my view. I thought briefly about what to do with them, then slid them back into the book of music and continued playing.

This morning, the images of the photos came back into my mind and I wondered if I oughtn't to frame a picture to put atop the piano. But something stopped me, a fear of something I cannot name.

Perhaps it is only that there are not daily reminders that makes it possible to live in a world that is forever changed by their absences. I don't know why I should feel unnerved by photographs of my parents, it may be that they are so alive and themselves in these pictures, and I am overwhelmed.

On Christmas Eve, it will have been 6 years since my mother succumbed to the cancer that took her life. I wonder how long it will be before I can look at a photo and not feel the emptiness that her passing left in my world.

I love Snow - a little bit

This winter promises to be a lot like last winter.  Snow, some more snow and then snow again.  I must admit that I love the way the world looks when it's covered in a newly-fallen blanket of white.  But, do I really love the snow?  I took the ultimate snow quiz and found out that I don't love snow as much as I used to.  I know that when I was a kid, I would have definitely been an all-out snow bunny.  Perhaps age brings us all to the point where the joy of snow is blunted by a cold slap of reality.  

You Are a Snow Kitten

You like snow in small doses. You find snow to be comforting, and you love to snuggle up under a blanket of snow. You're not a big fan of the hassles of snow. You're happy to see it come, but you're also happy to see it go. Go ahead and venture out in the snow from time to time! Throw a snowball or make a snow angel. You have an inner snow bunny inside you, and it's time to let that bunny play.

Are You a Snow Bunny?

Blogthings: 100's of Fun, Free Quizzes and 3 Stupid Ones

Living Today

I have  a favorite Bible verse, one that encourages us not to worry about tomorrow as today holds enough worry to keep us busy. And I agree with the principle, even if I don't always put it into practice. But as much we should strive to put aside worrying about the future, we should also consider our relationship to the past.

We all have had experiences in our pasts that shape how we view the world today. We live in a world filled with humans, all of them flawed, including ourselves. Certainly there were past relationships with friends and others that took wrong turns, there were times of hurt, betrayal and disappointment. This is common to all of us. It's an imperfect world filled with imperfect people who make mistakes. A problem arises however, when we dwell in the past just as it does when we try to visit the future... it keeps us from enjoying today.

Yet God tells us how to deal with all of it, past and future.

The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.
He will not always chide: neither will he keep his anger for ever.
He hath not dealt with us after our sins; nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.

He doesn't reward us according to our iniquities. In human terms, He doesn't try to get even and because of His mercy, He let's go of our past so we can. We are to do the same, that's why we are encouraged to forgive 70 x 7. I think where we get stuck is our need for justice - we demand satisfaction. How can we forgive anyone when we feel they have hurt us on purpose? Well, how does God look at it?

For He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust

God is more merciful to us than we are to ourselves or others. He remembers how weak we are, that we are only human, that we are "dust" and He does not expect perfection from us. God forgives us the past transgressions and remembers them no more. Can we do that too?

It doesn't seem possible that humans can truly forgive and forget, maybe the forget part is more than we can manage. But the forgiving is absolutely necessary. The funny thing is, the forgiveness we give another isn't really for their benefit, it is for ours.

Holding grudges and the memories of wrongs committed against us close to our hearts, does nothing but poison us. Continuing to nurse that grudge against another does nothing to them, but it binds us and chains us to that person forever. They are free and we are bound. It is only by forgiving and letting go of that wrong that we are freed.

When are bound to the past, we allow those dark clouds of yesterday to block today's sunshine. Today's bright aspect can also be marred by worries about tomorrow that predict yet another storm. It is enough that the sun is shining on us today.

Being a Blog Addict

I think I am becoming a blogaholic.  I don't mean I am addicted to blogging, I am addicted to reading them. I love to read the blogs I have collected in my favorites menu and when people don't post it is just as disappointing as an empty Inbox on my email. Every time I turn on the computer, I scan each and every one of them, hoping to find some new entry. When none is forthcoming I am deflated and sigh inwardly. I sometimes even blog myself just to make up for the void. But most often, I just hit the "next blog" button and sail around Blogger.com reading the blogs of total strangers. And it can be annoying and it can be gripping.

I still ask myself, why? Why do we blog? I am not sure I know the answer.

For some it is a matter of strongly held opinions that they hope to spread the worth of and persuade others to be of like opinion. The most annoying ones are the blogs that are commercial endeavors or the ones that cause little boxes to pop up on your screen and cause internet explorer to experience an error and close. But the majority of blogs are simply online diaries, journals of the lives and thoughts of everyday people.

And why here? Why on the net? Why pour out your hopes and dreams, why spread out all this pain and anguish for the world to see? Is the world seeing it? So many blogs with so much personal pain laid out for potential millions to read and no one is seeing it, no one is commenting, no one is offering comfort. Sometimes the author proclaims his assumption that no one is reading his blog, and yet, it is out there for someone to stumble across. A sort of accidental and yet planned exposure. So much that is a universal human experience, so much that deserves to be recognized and also to be respected as private at the same time. It leaves me with an urge to comment, to say "hey, that is okay to feel like that".

And yet, I read them and "walk on" as it were. I sometimes come across the same blog a few days later, it is is a very haphazard way of navigating. Strangely I feel that I now "know" this blogger, another person on the net with a need for introspection and exposition. Sometimes it strikes fear into my heart to read the blogs of teens and college students, and to realize that soon English will be a language I cannot read.

Is blogging good for us? I don't know. Is it an attempt to bond with other humans on a level that is very basic? Do we just need to tell someone, anyone, that we are here? Or do we need to tell them "i feel weird today... but i can't pinpoint what is wrong. i think it may just be life in general.. what i'm saying is, just the life i lead, and no particular event is on my mind".

Perhaps too much introspection is just as bad as none at al

Child's Play

I think that we have become more nervous as a society. Parents watch over their child's every move, thinking of how to cushion the fall they are sure is coming at any moment. Schools are more nervous, too. Play areas on school grounds are made of the highest quality, strongest, plastic-type stuff material that I assume takes great impacts without breaking small bones. It looks like something originally designed by NASA, and of course, it's all very brightly colored. The area under the play gyms and swings and slides is always padded in some way. Sand seems to out of favor these days, replacing it is a layer or two of wood chips. Wood chips look more dangerous to me, but I am of the nervous generation who can imagine things like splinters and wood chips impaled in an eyeball.

When I was in elementary school, we had a playground. It had no swings, no slides, no jungle gyms. It was paved in good old-fashioned asphalt and promised a properly scraped knee or worse to anyone who failed to keep upright while running over its surface. In fact, running and hopscotch were pretty much the only things you could do on this playground. Perhaps you could get a game of "tag" going (running) or dodge ball (running, getting hit by balls, falling down). When I think back on it, I am amazed we weren't all injured daily.

I have thought about it and decided it isn't really possible that today's children are more fragile than those of yesteryear. The only real difference is our level of concern for their safety, which now extends to trying to make sure they never fall down, never trip while running, never get a scrape or need all those bandages we fill medicine chests with. The reason is simple: it's the adults who have become more fragile. We can't stand the thought of seeing our children in even the slightest pain.

On some level I know my children will survive the usual bumps and thumps of childhood play, but I wonder at times if I will.

A Colorful Look at Education

The town where my children used to go to school had, over time, renovated and updated all the elementary schools so that each school had walls festooned in bright, primary colors and floor tiles that not only gleamed but also gave directional prompts through differently colored tiles that indicated the possible directions you could take. The entire effect was hectic but pleasing to a young eye. I supposed they believed that children would feel energized and stimulated by this environment and be eager to learn.

The strange thing is that my son's new school is anything but new, but academically he is achieving far more. His reading skills were considered non-existent in his bright, shiny, school but have exploded in his current educational environment. This school looks a lot like the dilapidated schools I attended when I was young. Lots of ceramic tile on the walls, in muted non-colors that match everything and nothing while blending into sameness. Every wall, every room looks the same. There's nothing colorful at all, especially in winter when even the world beyond the windows fails to produce anything but greys and browns. Perhaps the key to learning is teaching, then, and not an attractive classroom?

Good Manners Month

September, it seems, is National Children's Good Manners Month. I didn't even realize that there was a month so designated, let alone that it had already arrived. I wonder why that is?

I certainly haven't been inundated with requests utilizing the word "please" nor have I become short of breath uttering "you're welcome" after every "thank you" directed my way.

In fact, aside from having slightly grumpier children every morning that they have to rise slightly earlier to get ready for school, I have seen little change in their manners.

Wait, suddenly this all makes sense. September is the month that the school year begins in most of the country. To the delight of teachers everywhere, Good Manners Month neatly coincides with this mass return to the hallowed halls of academic institutions.

I can honestly tell my children to listen to their teachers, they're pretty smart cookies.

The Wonders of the Junk Drawer

There is one essential in every house, and the necessity of it can be clearly shown by the fact that every house has one. You are probably thinking "bathroom" but as important as that room is, it has limitations. The one space in a house that has no limitations and nearly no rules and yet is absolutely essential is the junk drawer.

"Junk drawer" is actually a misnomer, for anyone who keeps one knows that every item in that drawer is necessary for something or, at least, it will be someday.

The junk drawer is the repository for all things that don't have an immediate use but are bound to come in handy one day and you'll be very sorry if you throw it away now and want it later. These are items that don't have a set place that they belong. They would be clutter anywhere else, but here, in the junk drawer, they are treasures waiting to be discovered and dug up when the need for them arises.

I went looking through my junk drawer the other day, thinking that I should clean it out and how much more efficiently I could use that storage space. I was sure there were things that could be tossed out, after all, things seem to just get tossed in.

To my surprise, absolutely everything in that drawer is absolutely necessary - or will be one day.

For instance, there are two decorative candles whose decorations don't really fit with any known decor - but what happens if the lights go out one dark night in the middle of the winter? They will come in pretty handy then. If I throw them out, I will sit in the dark, cursing my decision. And we all know it is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.

There is also a half of a taper candle. Obviously this broken candle can't be placed in the decorative sconce, but I may need it to light the other candles so as not to waste precious matches. Remind me to put some matches in the junk drawer.

There are several wall plates for switches and electrical outlets. None of these match any room's colors, and none of them match each other. But you never know, I could paint and find one of these is the perfect match. In any case, they are perfectly good and too expensive to throw away. They must be expensive, they are in such awful taste.

The assorted eraserless pencils and nearly-dry pens could very well be my only source for a writing instrument when an unexpected package arrives or I have to quickly sign The Boy's homework so he can run off to school.

There's a doorknob. It seems to have all the working parts. I don't have any knobless doors at the moment. Still, you can see how foolish it would be to throw out a doorknob.

There's a flashlight with no batteries. Obviously, the next time we trip a circuit breaker and need a flashlight to go down to the cellar, this flashlight will remind us that we need to buy batteries.

There are lots of dead AA batteries in here. These are the most popular size, running everything from clocks to TV remotes and video game controllers. They end up in this drawer because although they seem to be out of juice, they still look too shiny and new to throw away. Plus, as everyone knows, these batteries are "resting". It's a scientific fact that a well-rested battery often will gather the strength to power that remote control just long enough to change the channel without having to get up and actually touch any of the buttons on the television.

There's a pamphlet that warns us not to stand on the open door of the oven to avoid tipping accidents. I have never seen anyone attempt to stand on the open door of an oven, but it's a good reminder and something to file away in my "worst case scenario" collection of possible disasters.

There are various bags of hardware and screws left over from things like blinds and curtain rods. It's very thoughtful of the manufacturers to include these extra supplies, even though they must know that people will install these items using the fewest screws necessary due to impatience and the discomfort of standing on a chair trying to install a screw far over their heads while swearing. I think they know we will drop approximately 50% of the screws before we have a good, solid two or three in place. If you find and retrieve the ones that fell, you can put them in the junk drawer.

There are the registration cards for appliances like the coffee maker and the toaster. These cards activate warrantees that we will never use since the cost of a new toaster is much less than the cost to ship the broken one back to the manufacturer. Still, too important to throw away - just in case.

There are other, equally important items that are too numerous to catalogue. And that's just the kitchen junk drawer. Oh yeah, I have a few of these throughout the house. If one is a good thing...

Junk drawers go with you when you move. After all your other belongings are carefully packed away, the junk drawer will be emptied into a box at the last minute. But they are rarely unpacked at the new location. For by the time you've moved in and set up housekeeping, your new junk drawer is probably already full.