Tag Archives: homeschool

A Needed Adjustment in Perspective

On Friday we had a speech evaluation for the Cheesedoodle. Getting help for school aged children is more difficult here, but the therapist who has been seeing the Snickerdoodle had agreed to evaluate Cheesedoodle in order to give me tools to help him continue with his speech development. Her words to me at the end of it were an amazing answer to prayer.

She said, “If I didn’t know his history, I would have told you he has no speech issues. He is in the normal spectrum for speech development for a 6 year old.”

“But people still don’t always understand him!” I said.

She leaned across the table, and looked into my mothering soul and said, “He is small for his age, and he is six. People are expecting him to tell them about baseball, or hockey, or his pet dog. They are not expecting him to explain static electricity to them. He is just fine. Keep doing what you are doing. He is an amazing boy.”

So I can hear the chorus of praises from across the continent as people who have prayed for and loved my little boy. This is such a great thing to hear, after all the work and the struggles. It was also exactly what I need to hear at the end of this second full year of home schooling. “He’s fine. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

The truth is, I have spent the last two years feeling ill equipped and unprepared for these uncharted educational waters. I spent three years freaking out about Moriah’s birthday and cut-off dates for school and getting her in the right place. Now we’re homeschooling, where the grades don’t matter. Half of her friends don’t even know what grade they’re in, and no one cares. She’s fine. We’re going to keep  doing what we’re doing.

On the way home, the snickerdoodle was in the back seat singing, “2+2 is 4, 3+3 is 6, 4+4 is 8, 5+5 is ten, 6+6 is Idon’tknow, 7+7 is Idon’tknow, . . . ” She just turned five. I can’t freak out about the “I don’t know”s, when the sane realization is She’s fine. Just keep doing what we’re doing.

In the midst of the weight and lack of definition of homeschooling, it was really nice to have a neutral, non-homeschooling party reassure me that my kids are doing fine, and we should keep doing what we are doing.

 

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Ill Equipped for the Task at Hand

On Thursday I took the children to our weekly public swim. Jonathan was out of town at the ARP Synod meetings, so I was flying solo, meaning I was required to field all of the questions coming from the three motor mouthed fruit of my womb without the option to call in a pinch hitter. In the midst of this, the Mackerdoodle asked me what a Black Hole was. I answered that it was a very, very, very heavy place in space that sucked everything near it toward itself. She then said to me:

“So it sucks everything into itself? So there could be a whole universe inside a black hole?” I was startled and answered, “Um. Yes sweetie. Actually scientists who study space are wondering exactly that.

She didn’t stop there, though. She followed it up with, “But all of that stuff that gets squished down into the black hole. I mean it can’t just disappear into nothing. It has to go somewhere. Could a black hole suck stuff in and send it somewhere else?” My brain was beginning to be distracted by the implications of this conversation, but I continued to affirm her. “Well, some scientists wonder exactly that. No one has been able to study it closely enough.”

“What if there used to be a huge black hole and  then it exploded, and everything in our universe came out of it!” She asked, excited at the possibility.

“Well, what do we know about how the universe was formed?” I asked. Praying for the right answer, and in answer to that prayer, her answer came quickly.

“Oh Right. God spoke and it was made. No black holes in Genesis.”

She was appeased, but I was terrified. My six year old had, from a very elementary explanation of black holes managed to hypothesize the same types of cosmological scenarios that doctoral candidates are considering for dissertation work.

I am clearly ill equipped to be her primary educator.