Archive | 2011

American Girl & Nursing

I’ve long loved American Girl dolls. While I’ve decided to finally decree “enough” on the full-size dolls, I continue to want to add to my collection of the mini dolls. This year in honor of the 25th anniversary, the company has special edition mini dolls in their holiday dresses. I went back and forth about whether or not I should buy them and finally decided to order a couple as my “reward” for juggling so much this session and making it through to the end! I opened up mini Josefina when my Monday night class ended and when my online class ends tonight, mini Kit will join her 🙂

To relate this post to my overall themes of this blog, I thought I’d mention an experience in the past when reading an American Girl book. In their “history mystery,” Riddle of the Prairie Bride, widowed father of 12 year old Ida Kate sends for a mail order bride. She arrives with her one year old baby and it soon becomes clear that something is amiss. She does not meet her description from her letters, gives inconsistent answers and so forth. Ida Kate investigates, mystery is solved, and true love reigns on the prairie. What’s the connection you may ask? Because, I always keep an eye out for “breastfeeding as normal” content in kids books and I loved that in this mystery the first clue that the prairie bride is not who she says she is is that she didn’t nurse her baby! (And, a one-year-old baby at that! Wow!) The book states, “She feeds him milk from a cup rather than nursing him as mothers do…” (Ida Kate notices the baby patting on the front of the mystery woman’s dress and instead of nursing him, she gets a cup of milk for him). I also liked the use of the word “nurse” instead of “breastfeed.” Cozy, familiar, desirable, and NORMAL. (With the emphasis on the process and not the product as Diane Wiessinger would say.) Of the top of my head, I also remember that in one of the AG short stories–Josefina’s Reward I think—her older sister has to hurry back from what she is doing to “nurse the baby” (who is also over one year old and walks and talks in the book).

(These breastfeeding bits don’t really make up for the bottles sold for Bitty Baby, but anyway.)

Mini Josefina in holiday finery

Holiday mini Kit is still in her box waiting to reward--luckily I have two regular mini Kits (plus one big Kit) to keep me company 😉

Have you met Pachamama?

I have a friend who was taking a mythology class in college this session. She sent me an email titled, “have you met Pachamama?” and included this great little picture:

I just love her! Love her serene little face and the yin-yang type of background.

“Pachamama is a goddess revered by the indigenous people of the Andes. Pachamama is usually translated as Mother Earth, but a more literal translation would be “Mother world” (in Aymara and Quechua mama = mother / pacha = world or land; and later widened in a modern meaning as the cosmos or the universe).[1] Pachamama and Inti are the most benevolent deities; they are worshiped in parts of the Andean mountain ranges, also known as Tawantinsuyu (the former Inca Empire) (stretching from present day Ecuador to Chile and northern Argentina being present day Peru the center of the empire with its capital city in Cuzco).”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pachamama

Natural Learners

As long as I have homeschooling on the brain lately, I want to quickly share some things I had saved in my drafts folder. This will most likely be my last homeschooling post for a while and I’ll return to my usual topics!

Quite some time ago (pre-children), I wrote the following in response to a 2001 Time magazine article about homeschooling that bemoaned both that homeschooled children were “not allowed to have a childhood”  (forced to be miniature adults and grow up too soon) and that they somehow also “miss out on learning ‘real world’ skills” (in school) such as conflict resolution that will benefit them in adulthood. In the article, a strong statement was made that I’ve never forgotten that riding the school bus is a valuable and important part of growing up and imparts irreplaceable life lessons summarily denied to poor, deprived homeschoolers. (Luckily for my social and personal development as a complete human being, I did get to ride a school bus to our local Vacation Bible School each year for a number of years.)

Truly, is there anything inherently valuable about things like riding the school bus? I lived my childhood and it was rich and full in a way that is impossible to create when you spend 8-9 hours per day institutionalized. Why is sitting at a desk, artificially grouped with children all your own age, being spoonfed information, and restricted from developing your own personality and preferences (i.e. everyone must learn algebra), what childhood “should” be? Why do so many adults go through crises as adults that involve having to “find themselves” and develop their “true selves”? I would hypothesize that is because they never got to explore themselves and their identities in childhood, which is actually the ideal time for such growth and development. Government schooling is somehow seen as the better way for children to spend childhood instead of letting children develop, grow, and learn in the actual world in which they will live as adults.

I also had saved a quote about natural learners from the book, Providence, by Daniel Quinn. Quinn is the author best known for his philosophical novel Ishmael, which I read as a young teenager. I remember considering it to be a life changing and fascinating read, but it has been a LONG time since I read it—my primary memory of it is how he challenges the very human conception that we are the “end” result of evolution. That’s it, evolution has finished, we’re here now. Anyway, Providence was less illuminating/interesting. It was primarily an autobiography with an emphasis on how the author developed Ishmael (which went through more than 6 versions over a period of like 13 years) as well as an exploration of his religious development (which includes some time spent in a monastery and ends with animism).

While he was writing his book, he worked in educational publishing and I appreciated his remarks about education:

One of the great, persistent myths of education in our culture is that children become reluctant learners as they grow older. In fact, what they become reluctant about it going to school, where they’re bullied, regimented, bored silly, and very effectively prevented from learning…We know what works for children up to the age where we ship them off to school: Let them be around you, pay attention to them, talk to them, give them access to as much as you can, let them try things, and that’s it. They take care of the rest. You don’t have to strap small children down and teach them to speak, all you have to do is talk to them. You don’t have to give them crawling lessons or walking lessons or running lessons. You don’t have to spend an hour a day showing them how to bang two pots together; they’ll figure that out all by themselves–if you give them access to the pots. Nothing magical happens at the age of five to render this process obsolete or invalid.

Rebirth: What We Don’t Say

A new self did emerge. This is what women do not tell each other. I want to say it here: You will die when you become a mother and it will hurt and it will be confusing and you will be someone you never imagined and then, you will be reborn. Truthfully, I have never wanted to be the woman I was before I had children. I loved that woman and I loved that life but I don’t want it again. My daughters have made me more daring, more human, more compassionate. Their births have brought me closer to the earth and they have helped me pare my life down to its essentials. Writing, quick prayers, good food, a few close friends, many deep breaths, love, plants, dancing, music, teaching-these are the ingredients of my/this new self. I waited for this new self in the dark, in the bittersweet water of letting go, in the heavy heartbeat of learning to be a mother, against the isolation, I grew and emerged laughing and crying and here I am, sisters and brothers. Rebirth: What We Don’t Say | The Sage Mama.

One of my favorite songs to listen to after my miscarriage experiences had a refrain of, “it is dark, dark, dark inside.” While previously not connecting to “darkness” as a place of growth or healing, during these experiences I learned that it is in the darkness that new things take root and grow.

As I’ve shared before, one of my favorite quotes about postpartum comes from Naomi Wolf, A mother is not born when a baby is born; a mother is forged, made. The quote I shared above from this “Rebirth” article touches that place in me—that motherhood results in a total life overhaul and a new, enriched identity. (This article also made me think of first postpartum journey which I wrote about here.)

In a previous post, I wrote the following about the idea that giving birth and mothering leaves permanent marks:

I’ve also come to realize that despite the many amazing and wonderful, profound and magical things about birth, the experience of giving birth is very likely to take some kind of toll on a woman—whether her body, mind, or emotions. There is usually some type of “price” to be paid for each and every birth and sometimes the price is very high. This is, I guess, what qualifies, birth as such an intense, initiatory rite for women. It is most definitely a transformative event and transformation does not usually come without some degree of challenge. Sometimes to be triumphed over or overcome, but something that also leaves permanent marks. Sometimes those marks are literal and sometimes they are emotional and sometimes they are truly beautiful, but we all earn some of them, somewhere along the line. And, I also think that by glossing over the marks, the figurative or literal scars birth can leave on us, and talking about only the “sunny side” we can deny or hide the full impact of our journeys.

During Pam England’s presentation about birth stories at the ICAN conference, she said that the place “where you were the most wounded—the place where the meat was chewed off your bones, becomes the seat of your most powerful medicine and the place where you can reach someone where no one else can.

(I’m experimenting with PressThis for this short post)

Homeschooling Today (Part 2 of 2)

So, after my extremely long “ghosts of homeschooling past” post, it is time for my follow-up post about what homeschooling looks like for me today. My boys are only 8 and 5 and if there is one thing that I know for sure, it is that how our daily lives look will change many times. I truly believe that children’s play is children’s “work” and the best thing we can do for them is allow them ample space and opportunity for play. I believe in life learning and playful learning and that we are learning all the time, not just when “doing school.” I also believe that most people are “meant” to live home-based lives, spending a good deal of time in the company of their personal “tribe” and in their own homes (or those of people close to them), rather than in institutional settings (whether that setting be a schoolplace or workplace—as a companion to this thought though, I also feel like adults are also “meant” to spend time each day on “work” that is not parenting, whether it be grinding corn, or something else).

So right now, our daily “structure” looks like this:

  • 8:00, wake up—day feels bright and full of promise!
  • Boys play Minecraft on computer or play with toys in living room or draw. A favorite is these amazingly awesome complex map-type drawings using newsprint paper on a roll (see pictures below). They also draw comic books and write stories.
  • I do yoga
  • I fix breakfast and we all eat
  • Boys continue playing whether on Minecraft or outside or with toys, or draw or play sort of acted-out-video-game-adventure-type-storylines
  • I work on my online class or grades papers/homework or prepares materials for the week’s classes—sometimes with “bonus time” (if Alaina keeps sleeping), writes blog post or works on lessons from own doctoral program.
  • Around 11:00ish, Alaina wakes up. Boys run to play with her. She is wiggly and smiling and “look, world! I’m BAAACK!”
  • Do things like listen to radio and dance together (today, it was Madonna, which the boys said was “laser tag music!” so we then danced/listened and played laser tag. Alaina was in pouch and I held the target and ran around with it to add an extra level of challenge while boys battled it out and attempted to also shoot the target).
  • Do some household chores with Alaina in pouch.
  • Go outside to let out chickens, play, swing on swings. When weather is nice in fall, go into the woods by big rocks to play and explore.
  • Make lunch and eat. (Boys draw or play while I fix it. Alaina rides in pouch and supervises or plays on floor with boys.) Today I also made four loaves of pumpkin bread for our work co-op this weekend with Zander stirring/measuring and Alaina supervising, while Lann drew plans for “jet shoes” he would like to invent.
  • Do school with boys. This consists of a combination of options from:
  1. Reading Eggs
  2. Starfall (we pay for the “more” version)
  3. Jumpstart
  4. Leapster K and First Grade
  5. ClicknRead Phonics
  6. Videos from Harry Kindergarten
  7. In the past, we have also used Dreambox & Time4Learning
  8. I also have approximately 499 educational bookmarks on my computer that we do an assortment of things with.
  9. I get the Clickschooling daily email which often has something good to check out.

Recently, we’ve been doing reading and math worksheets from their Comprehensive Curriculum of Basic Skills workbooks every day. We stop as soon as they say they are bored and don’t want to do anymore, because I don’t believe in setting up an atmosphere where “learning” equals bad. Every day, they also each read me one new Bob Book for reading practice. Z reads the early reading ones and L is into the first grade series. I am crossing my fingers hopefully that Z will learn to read more quickly than L has learned. Just this year, reading has finally clicked for L, but he still isn’t exactly proficient or fluent in reading skill. Since I, personally, learned to read so early, this is really hard for me to deal with.

  • Sometimes we don’t make it to school before Alaina goes down for nap at about 1:30. So, sometimes we do that after I get back up from lying down with her. Sometimes they watch an episode of something they are interested in on Netflix while I’m putting her down for nap.
  • At about 2:30, boys go to visit my parents at their house. While there, they—surprise!—play some more.
  • If the stars are well aligned, Alaina naps while boys I gone and I frantically work on all tasks I imagined doing in the morning, while also feeling guilty about trying to finish my blog post rather than visit with my mom when she comes to get the boys.
  • Once a week we go to homeschool playgroup and we do other homeschool events as they arise like bowling, skating, plays/shows at the university, occasional field trips, pumpkin patch, etc.
  • Alaina wakes from nap and we snuggle and nurse and play and I marvel at her fundamental awesomeness.
  • Boys return and I start trying to work on dinner (usually with Alaina in pouch). Sometimes while visiting with my mom (who plays with Alaina while I cook).
  • Mark gets home from work at close to 6:00.
  • I lament briefly about all the tasks I thought I would complete that I didn’t get finished.
  • Berate self for complaining and for whining at Mark when he has just gotten home, rather than be delightful company.
  • Finish dinner and eat. While eating, we usually do “high-low” of the day—each take turn saying our “low point” and “high point” from the day.
  • Clean up dinner and go outside for our evening walk. Boys ride bikes and are extremely loud and Mark and I try to talk over them.
  • Boys shower, brush teeth and I read to them from our current book and then snuggle them until they go to sleep (Mark gets Alaina in her PJs, pottied, and teeth brushed, and sometimes a bath).
  • Lament a little more about what I still haven’t gotten done.
  • Watch Netflix with Mark in bed while nursing Alaina to sleep.
  • Feel dismayed at pile of laundry still needing to be put away.
  • Imagine hopping up and whirling through the house in a blaze of productivity, but decide going to sleep makes more sense.
  • Review things I expected myself to get done—such as working on books, completing massive projects, writing dozens of blog posts, doing dozens of school assignments, etc. Feel vague sense of failure about the day—never having “caught up” or gotten “finished.” Feel guilty about times I snapped or said, “just a MINUTE!” or didn’t stop what I was doing to look.
  • Wonder why I forget to include, “sustaining life of small, wonderful person” on my list of “accomplishments” for the day.
  • Berate self for not being nicer to self. Berate self for berating self for not being nicer to self.
  • Vow that tomorrow will be a “better day.” Vow to be more patient, more responsive, more mindful, more spiritual, more attentive, more cheerful, more delightful, more zen-like, more inner-peace-full, more better. Berate self for always making same vow. Briefly berate self for self-beratement.
  • Feel bad for not spending more rose-smelling time or time snuggling with my husband or visiting with my mom. Remind self to be generous with self. Retain secret sense of certainty that it is possible to get everything done tomorrow.
  • Read my current book (or books) until I’m almost falling asleep (around midnight).
  • Nurse baby much of night.
  • Wake up full of awesome and ready to do it again!

Things I envision our daily life including, but that rarely manifest:

  • Drumming and musical instrument fun
  • Handwork
  • Family games
  • Making small animals out of moldable beeswax
  • Meditation and other peaceful, contemplative spiritually-oriented practices in perfect harmony with all children participating
  • Wool and wood toycrafting
  • Nifty Waldorfish or paganish seasonal cycles of learning coolness of all kinds
  • Relaxing on back deck porch swing with cup of tea

My friend, Hope, has a great blog post about what homeschoolers “do” every day, which seems to be the number one question of mothers who are thinking about homeschooling their own children.

Here are some pictures of what our lives look like during the day:

Drawing!

Toys set up for adventure...

Tricky moves

Playgroup at park!

Baby with laundry backdrop...

Harry Potter Quidditch Match "trick" photography...

More "trick" photography (note large drawings in progress on floor )

Big drawing/map...

This is the kind of energy that flows through our house every day!

Lann took this picture--notice Mark, A, and I in background at stove

Worn out and time for bed!

My awesome is a little tarnished by this time of night, but I'm still here!

I’m really, really, really grateful that I have two boys who are such good friends for each other!

My Homeschooling Life Story (Part 1 of 2)

I remind my students that in order to effectively help others, it is important to "know your story" and that felt relevant for this post about my homeschooling story

As I mentioned several posts ago, I’ve received some requests to write more about homeschooling. I realized I’m a little stumped on the direction to take, realizing that I used a lot of my “homeschool philosophy” type of energy up writing papers on the subject in college and that I also don’t feel like I have any “how to” advice to give about homeschooling either. Nor can I really figure out how to write a “how we structure our day” type post either, because our days frequently look very different and change based on the needs of the day and the people. These things said, I also don’t mean to suggest in any way that I’ve got it all figured out, I just don’t spend a lot of time thinking about homeschooling. I mentioned it to my mom and she suggested that people might just be interested in my own experiences, both from my childhood and then currently, with my own kids. So, that’s what I’ve decided to offer in this series of two posts. No philosophy, theories, or advice, just my own narrative about being a homeschooled kid who grew up to homeschool her own kids.

My own homeschooling story/saga is such an integrated part of my past, or my life story, that it has barely occurred to me that people might be interested to hear it. Maybe they will be, maybe they won’t be. This is LONG post and who knows if anyone will even make it until the end! I do think I am in a fairly unique position as an adult former homeschooler. I know almost no one else who was homeschooled throughout the childhood and teenage years, never setting foot in a formal school until entering college. Did I mention its long? Be warned!

Childhood

I have three younger siblings and my mom homeschooled all of us. At the time, we considered ourselves “unschoolers” but I feel like that label has evolved to encompass a more developed philosophy and set of beliefs than it did when I was a kid. To my mom it meant that we homeschooled without curriculum and that learning in the house was primarily child-led/child-directed, with Mom’s primary purpose to make quality resources available to us and to answer questions. My mom has a degree in early childhood education, which always gave her a little additional credibility in the eyes of casual questioners or people wondering if you were “allowed” to homeschool. As a kid, I truly felt like my mom homeschooled because she enjoyed our company so much that she couldn’t stand to have us away from her all day at school. It wasn’t until adulthood that I fully realized that she probably could have used the “break” school would have provided, but she homeschooled us because of her own convictions that it was in our best interest and that the public school system was a “broken” one to which she was philosophically opposed. As a teenager, I did catch on to some of these convictions and would passionately advocate for homeschooling when encountering those who would express skepticism or doubt (this is what I mean about having “used up” this energy already).

My dominant memories of my childhood years consist mainly of playing with my sister, reading, and having my mom make things for us. My youngest siblings are 9 and 11 years younger than I am and do not feature prominently in my childhood memories. My other sister is 22 months younger than I am and our lives together are so inextricably linked that I rarely speak about my childhood without using the pronoun “we.” We spent so much time playing. It was the bulk of our day really, just playing with each other. We were each other’s best friend. We played outside, we played with toys, we made toys, and played some more. We had neighbors (loosely speaking—within five miles from us) who were also homeschoolers and we saw and played with them frequently as well (and, grew up to be bridesmaids in each other’s weddings). With our friends, we often played house, restaurant and yes, school. We made all kinds of worksheets for our dolls and I was always the teacher. At home, we sometimes did worksheets with mom. Almost every year she bought “Super Workbooks” for us (i.e. “My Third Grade Super Workbook”) and we’d start off with a bang with her saying that this was the year when we were really going to buckle down and do school every day. This usually lasted a couple of weeks and we’d be back to our freeform, playing days with occasional bursts of workbooks as we expressed interest in them. We had old-fashioned readers like Dick & Jane that were always fun to read, as well as lots of other schoolbooks in addition to the Super Workbooks. These were always available to us on the bookshelf if we wanted them.  I learned to read when I was three and have been a voracious reader ever since. We would go to the library once a week and I would check out every new book they had.

Because of my tendency to read until my eyes glazed over, my mom eventually limited me to reading two books a day (full-length “chapter books” such as Trixie Belden—favorites of mine when I was about 6). I literally read every single book in the children and youth sections at both local libraries. A lot of my learning truly came from fiction. I still feel like my most long-lasting lessons about history came from American Girl books! We also used to get all kinds of educational magazines. Mom also read to us every night until we were in our early teens, usually book series like Narnia. We were in 4-H for many years and did all kinds of projects through 4-H, went to summer camp, and eventually participated in their many leadership-opportunity programs. I’ve never forgotten the mock trial of the ethically and morally complicated case of Nancy Cruzan we participated in at the state Capitol building through the 4-H civic leadership program I took part in. We belonged to the local homeschool support group and regularly went to homeschool bowling, skating, and other events. My mom also did a “craft club” for girls and we would get together and make craft projects every week. We also had lots of sleepovers.

Unlike many other homeschoolers of the time, we did not homeschool for religious reasons and in fact were not religious at all. I felt a barrier throughout my childhood in relating authentically to other people because I was not religious—it felt like something I needed to play close to the chest and keep “secret.” Many of my friends were fundamentalist Christians, which was not compatible with my own burgeoning sense of social justice and women’s rights. My own self-identification as a feminist was my first taste of activism and my first involvement with a “cause” (other than homeschooling). I had many experiences with my homeschooled peers that left a very bad taste in my mouth towards religion, primarily religious attitudes toward women, to the extent that I maintained a knee-jerk almost anti-religious response to any discussion of religious or spiritual issues until I was close to 30. As a child and teenager, I came to feel like being religious and being feminist were fundamentally incompatible and I chose feminism. I truly did not know that someone could be religious or Christian without being frighteningly fundamentalist about it. It wasn’t until much, much later that I discovered that are a lot of “normal Christians” in the world (including “normal homeschooling Christians”).

I grew up in an off-the-grid log cabin in the woods. We did not have a TV until I was 12 when we got a TV/VCR combo unit—it did not get any TV channels, but after that point we watched one movie per night.

High School

When I approached age 14, my parents gave me the choice of continuing to be homeschooled or to start high school. Several of my homeschooling friends started high school at this point and homeschooled boys in particular were hard to come by, many having been lured to public high school from desire to play organized sports. Those of us who remained actually organized our own homeschool basketball “team,” playing basketball together in local parks at least once a week. I opted to begin a homeschool correspondence program, American School, a (supposedly) college-prep high school program that offered an accredited diploma at the end. Any naysayers were quickly silenced to learn that the same accrediting body that accredited the local high school, also accredited the correspondence high school I attended.

During my early teenage years, I also remained very involved with 4-H, serving as president of my club, etc. I also joined an Explorers post, the co-ed, young adult version of Boy Scouts and this is where I ended up meeting the boy who would eventually become my husband. Through dating his public-schooled self, I ended up participating in all of those things that people express concern about homeschoolers “missing out on,” such as the prom. I cannot count the number of time people have asked, “but what about prom?!” when they hear that someone is homeschooled. After going to prom myself, I felt deeply sad that this experience was what some people apparently considered the pinnacle of their lives! My homeschooled-til-high-school friends were in band and another friend’s brother played football, so I went to many high school football and basketball games to watch them play, thus again not missing out on a classic high school experience. (I’m glad I didn’t need to spend 12 years in public school in order to earn these fabulous honors!)

I quickly discovered that I could complete my high school classes very quickly, sometimes completing an entire high school course during one weekend (of intensive work). My only challenging area was math and sometimes my mom and I both ended up crying over it as I struggled through algebra and geometry at the kitchen table. I started to toy with the notion of possibly completing high school in three years. As classes passed, I realized I could finish even more quickly than that, and in 1994, I received my high school diploma at age 15—14 months after having started the correspondence classes. Yes, I completed 4 years worth of high school work in slightly over a year! This really solidified for me that high school was likely a “waste of time” for everyone. After starting college, I was interviewed by the local paper and was asked if I felt like I had “missed anything” by not going to school like everyone else, I responded that I had missed out on “having been institutionalized.” I was dating my future husband at this time and his friends were extremely annoyed at my “snotty” attitude in this quote stating that I couldn’t know what high school was like, having never been there. They also said, “it isn’t an institution! It has windows and the lockers are painted different colors.” I rested my case.

While my parents and I debated about whether it made sense or not for me to start college so young, I really felt like I might as well be spending my time in college as in high school—if I could do it, why not start. So, at 15 1/2 I enrolled in a branch college to “get my feet wet.” My primary motivation for starting at this school rather than at the local university, was because the branch college did not require an ACT score to be admitted and I really, really did not want to take the ACT. I eventually took the GRE to get into graduate school and that remains the only standardized test I’ve ever taken.

College

I spent almost two years taking classes at the branch college until I had enough credit hours to transfer to the local university without an ACT score. I took College Algebra with trepidation, never having felt fully competent in math. I did successfully get an A in the class, but it involved literally hours of self-imposed practice problem solving at home sitting by the wood stove. I was a very enthusiastic and hard-working student, theorizing that I had so much energy for college because I hadn’t previously been “burned out” by high school. I earned all A’s at the branch school and continued to earn all A’s at the university to which I transferred, eventually graduating summa cum laude with a 4.0 GPA. I was also the youngest graduate in the university’s history, finishing my bachelor’s degree at age 19 years and 13 days. I kept my age very private throughout college, only revealing my true age to a tiny handful of other students and then to a couple of my favorite professors in the two weeks before graduation. One classic moment was when a friend asked me to go to a bar after class to continue working on our group project. I said I couldn’t and he said, “why not? You’re 21, aren’t you?” I just said no, and he said, “22?” which I continue to find very amusing 😉 For all of those who worry about the “socialization” of homeschoolers, no one ever seemed to be able to identify me as a homeschooler or as overly young.

After it became clear that driving into town every day for classes and work no longer made a lot of sense, I lived in the dorm for one semester in my junior year and then moved into a small efficiency apartment when I was almost 18. I worked at the branch college I originally attended, which was a perfect job for me, allowing me to do all my homework and paper writing while at work. (I am now a professor at this same college!)

I was extremely obsessive about my grades, becoming almost panic-stricken at the thought of not getting an A in a class. Astronomy was my most horrible subject and I remember crying—wailing almost—certain that it was going to be the undoing of my 4.0. As it was, I calculated the exact score I needed to get on the final to manage a 90% in the class and I still remember the tension in my chest in going to look at the final grades on the professor’s door and seeing that, yes, I had received exactly that score on the final, not a single point over! I continued to date my only boyfriend throughout college and in July after I graduated we got married (we’ve been married for 13 years now). Immediately following college, I went on to graduate school and finished my master’s degree there at age 21, also with a perfect 4.0 GPA (though I’d been told by many people, including professors, that I’d have to lower my expectations of myself once I went to graduate school and that it would be a “bigger pond,” that didn’t end up being true). Again, I only revealed my age to a handful of people. At one point after being pushed into saying how old I was, my friend said, “wow! I would never have guessed. If someone had asked me, ‘is Molly 19 or 30,’ I would have said, ‘well, she looks young for 30.'” Even at the time, this struck me as mildly sad, like I had been “fast forwarded” through my adolescence.

Adult Reflections

My experienced as a homeschooled, now-adult taught me many things about education and about homeschooling. Primarily, I know from experience that it is not necessary to sit in desk all day. I also know that it is not necessary homeschool with a “school at home” mentality. Basically, children do pick up everything they need to know to be functional, socialized adults with access and opportunities. I always say I learned about the “real world” by living in it, rather than being closed up all day in an artificially age-segregated environment expressly modeled to serve the purposes of the Industrial Revolution, not human needs.

I do retain some sense of having been “fast forwarded,” in my life, but that isn’t really a bad thing (for example, now a 32, I have over 15 years of experience in my chosen field, rather than still “just starting out” as it seems to me like many thirty-something year olds are!). If I was starting all over again, I wouldn’t necessarily recommend going to college that young, but nor would I recommend trying to prolong something that could be completed in less than four years.

My brother and sisters all did the same high school correspondence program, but paced themselves intentionally to finish later. They also all went to college and finished their bachelor’s degrees. I share this personal story for those of you who have wondering if homeschooling “works” and whether your kids will, indeed, grow into functional adult humans 🙂

I find it somewhat amusing that I’ve ended up in education as a career. I feel like my outlook was profoundly shaped by my homeschooled childhood and my students frequently express that I expect them to think in ways they’ve never thought before and that my assignments are not like anything they’ve experienced before, “I mean, you actually expect us to think.” (direct quote)

I have joked before, but am half-serious, that being unschooled “ruined” me for full-time employment. It did in the sense that I don’t think it is healthy for anyone—male, female, child, adult—to spend all day, every day doing the same thing at the same place. That is not how life is meant to be lived! I also feel like my childhood spent essentially doing what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it, did have an impact on my experience of motherhood now, which not infrequently does not allow me to do what I want to do when I want to do it, and I chafe a little at those restrictions on my autonomy and all of my billions of ideas.

I also find it somewhat amusing that my life has taken a religious turn now, in that I am currently working on my doctoral degree (D.Min) in women’s spirituality. I also am the vice president of my very small UU church. I find myself very passionate about and absorbed in study of the divine feminine, the sacred feminine, women’s spirituality, feminist spirituality, and the Goddess. It took me a long time and some childhood religious “scars” to realize that there is a vast world out there beyond the dominant, patriarchal, Judeo-Christian lens and to discover that I connect to the women’s spirituality movement on a very deep and meaningful level.

Homeschooling My Own Kids

As I previously noted, homeschooling my own kids was a foregone conclusion for me. I literally cannot fathom the idea of sending them to public school. Please see Part 2 of this homeschooling post for more about what homeschooling looks like for us right now!

Picking Stuff

This is purely a personal post to share pictures of my babies picking stuff 🙂 We have a tradition of taking a picture of each sitting in the grass picking grass, leaves, and flowers. When writing about Lann’s birthday and choosing pictures to use, I came across his “picking stuff” pictures and I wanted to share the series!

Lann picking stuff

Zander picking stuff

Alaina picking stuff

Can you tell they’re related? I think they all have nice-shaped little heads. Different hair configurations, but same color. I love how Alaina’s hands were capturing in enthusiastic picking motion 🙂 Putting these pictures together gives me a weird, nostalgic sense of collapsed time.

Eightmonthababy!

I don’t know if it simply because we’ve said she is the last baby, or, because she is such an awesome baby, or what, but Alaina makes me want to never not have a baby. Maybe I have a different perspective this time around because my oldest is now 8, so I can see right in front of me every day how quickly it goes by—or, maybe I am literally able to enjoy her more completely than I was with the older two. The adjustment to motherhood with the first was emotionally complicated. The adjustment to having two was easier, but the juggling of the needs of an infant and an almost-three year old, made some of the days very difficult to cope with. Life isn’t perfect now and I do get maxed out feeling (talk to me on a day when she doesn’t nap as I’ve come to expect!), but I just really, really, really like life with this baby in it! I was trying to explain it to Mark this week, saying that this is the last time anyone is ever going to love me like this. I know that might sound weird and that we think of parents as the ones having unconditional love for their babies, not vice versa, but the depth of the mother-baby attachment is extremely profound and incomparable. It is also simple and uncomplicated. I had the same depth of attachment with my other children, but I also felt more “oppressed” at times by the level of dependence and attachment. Now, I feel more aware of how short-lasting this period of intensity is and I just love how much she loves me. While we’ll always love each other deeply, right now we are a motherbaby—a single psychobiological organism and there just isn’t anything else like it.

Alaina has experienced lots of changes since my 6 month update post. She has four teeth now! (Brushes them herself before naps and at bedtime.) She crawls all over the place, mainly as a means to get to the next place where she can pull to stand. She pulls to stand on just about anything, sometimes letting go and just holding on with one hand. She can transfer between two surfaces, but does not yet “cruise.” We experiment with solid foods—she’s interested in everything, but doesn’t like many of the things she tries. I forgot what it was like to be in this stage of motherhood where I perpetually have weird substances stuck to my clothes and can never stay “clean” (or, keep her clean). Just this month she seems to have figured out how to move food around in her mouth and swallow it, vs. just tasting it and then letting it ooooze back out. She like broccoli (defrosted florets, not mushed up) and those little, too-expensive Gerber baby puffs. Still weighs about 20 pounds and fits most comfortably into size 18m clothes. She is just starting to wave and will—sometimes—say “hi” or “bye” accompanying the wave. She says “mama,” seemingly purposely and has also seemed to say, “brother” and “Baba” purposely as well. She will give high fives. She is working on clapping and on raising her arms in response to, “how big is Alaina?!”

She still does an adorable face-stroking gesture and has also added back/chest patting into her repertoire. When I pick her up or take her from someone, she gives an extra launch kick with her legs that is really cute. She will then pat me on the chest (like I pat her back). Really cute!

I really think she is my most mouthy baby. Everything goes into the mouth. She is always after my computer mouse and my phone, trying to eat them all up. I also feel like she is my quietest baby, spending more time looking and watching than talking about it. She loves to ride along checking out the world from my hip, sometimes with a solemn and contemplative expression, sometimes with leg-kicking enthusiasm. She is still a really happy and content baby—I frequently get comments about her being the, “happiest baby I’ve ever seen,” or, “she just seems to have a really pleasant temperament.” She does get bumped/bonked more often than she used to, primarily by crawling around and getting stuck under tables and things like that, and so she will cry about that. I always find myself a little startled when she cries and not so sure what to do about it (nursing usually works). She remains a night owl—preferring to stay up until around 11:30 and then waking up for the morning at around 11:00. Her hair is looking a little less thin and occasionally I think I catch a hint of curl in it, but that might just be my imagination! It still looks red outside, but then sandy inside (just like the boys). Recently she has started to “dance” when music comes on and sometimes will actually tap her foot in time with music. I think the origin of the tendency to say, “mmm” about tasty food as a lifelong habit that originates in nursing babyhood, as she usually says, “Mmmm! Mmmm! Mmmm!” when she starts nursing 🙂

She is very mama-centric recently, wanting to spend most waking time with me or held by me. I’ve been teaching three college classes this session (two in-seat) and I was offered the opportunity to do so again next session. I opted to turn down the second in-seat class and just teach one. While part of me feels like I’m turning down something that would be good for our future, after a lot of thinking and back-and-forthing, I decided it is too much to expect of Alaina, of my mom (who comes with me to watch Alaina so that she doesn’t have to be separated from me on teaching nights), and of myself. I’m handling it this session, but it has been a challenge and I’ve had several freak out moments about the demands (mainly during grading times—another of which is rapidly approaching). She is becoming more hesitant about the separation—reaching after me, that sort of thing, and above all else, I want to honor her need for me. Regarding the overall workload, I explained to my husband that most of the time everything is going great, but that the balance and my personal emotional equilibrium is very fragile. I rely on everything unfolding “perfectly” in order for me to fit everything into a day that needs to happen. If something disrupts my anticipated schedule (like early naptime wake up, or nap refusal), I go into a tailspin and feel like my life is in a terrible state, etc., etc. I’m looking forward to a break and then to only teaching one in-seat class in the fall. While I feel like I’ve been doing a great job taking care of Alaina and also doing a pretty good job as a professor, I feel like I’m not doing as good of a job as I could be with my boys or with my husband or with my friends.

Now, for a whole row of update pictures! (I do posts like this primarily for my own “memoirs,” rather than to be particularly exciting for anyone else to read!)

She spends a LOT of time in this pouch!

On the go!

Pulling up on mama!

Standing baby!

Showing toofs! (that is my hair behind her, not hers!)

Pensive pondering

My baby companion!

Look at those eyes!

Uh oh! Located a remainder of mama's protein bar and is sucking off the chocolate part...

Showing her findings!

Mama is funny!

Matching hats!

On Lann's birthday, ready for fall!

Affordable Fetal Model

Two things to know about me:

1. I love dolls.

2. I love bargains.

For quite a while, I’ve wanted a realistic baby model to use in my birth classes. My ideal model could be used both for demonstrations of fetal positioning in the pelvis and also for demo’ing newborn care and possibly breastfeeding. Most fetal models sold by CBE supply companies range from $60-150. I usually use a Bitty Baby doll to demo newborn care and breastfeeding (a third thing to know about me is that my love of bargains makes an exception when it comes to American Girl dolls. I have an embarrassing number of AG dolls and vast quantities of accessories. I’ve had this Bitty Baby for over 10 years, I didn’t buy her to use in class). In my knitted uterus, resides a cute little baby doll I bought at Target for $5. Neither of these dolls works at all for fetal positioning or with my demonstration pelvis.

Look at this cute baby!

So, imagine my delight when I found a nearly perfect model newborn at Kmart yesterday while my son was picking out his birthday presents. I named her Sasha AND, get this, she was $20. In a bonus twist, unlike 99.9% of the dolls in the store, she did not come with a bottle! (There is a bottle pictured with a different doll on the back of the box.) She did come with a little cloth diaper, a onesie, a band to cover her cord stump (yes, she seems to have one, but it could just be a dramatic “outie”!), a little outfit, a hat, and socks. Called La Newborn (nursery doll), she is made by Berenguer.

Legs and arms straightened out a little

The only drawback is she is not very flexible and so would be hard to use comfortably for things like practicing putting on diapers. Her fairly flexed permanent body position does make her absolutely ideal for use for fetal positioning and even for swaddling or babywearing practice. I originally planned to take her arms and legs off to fill with plastic pellets to add weight, but I’d don’t think I’m going to bother. While nothing near the weight of a real baby, she is made from good quality vinyl.

After looking these dolls up various places online, I’m now thinking I should have bought the remaining one or two that they had at K-Mart. They don’t seem to be widely available for the $20 price.

This morning, my older son helped me take all kinds of pictures of my new toy—I mean, teaching aid!—today (yet another of the many benefits of having an 8 year old in the house!). So, this is a photo-heavy post!

See what I mean about well flexed for fetal positioning information?!

And now my Christmas pelvis gets in on the demo…

If the demo pelvis had a coccyx joint, the baby would fit perfect through. As it is, her head does get stuck on it (good teaching moment about the importance of active positions for birthing!)

Bitty Baby Noelle and Target Baby are less than impressed with this interloper…

Alaina helps take care of baby Sasha…

For sizing purposes—while I think she appears to be the perfect, realistic size when held up to my belly as a fetal model for positioning, when held in arms, she is more the size of a preemie baby (maybe a 31 weeker or so). She is about 15 inches.

Lann wanted me to take this one—“make them guess who’s the real baby!!!”—conveniently, Alaina closed her eyes for this picture, making identification of the real baby even trickier…



Edited to add, Baby Sasha later experienced an unfortunate accident and had to be replaced. See Fetal Model Update post for pictures.

Eight is Great!

Eight years ago today, I became a mother for the first time when I gave birth to a magical baby boy. Born at sunrise on a Saturday morning, he surprised us all by weighing over 8 pounds and by crying when only his head was born! He had lots of dark hair and a tan complexion and he took to “nursies” like he was born to breastfeed. He was my highest need baby and in some ways remains the most complicated one to parent—perhaps because he is the first and so always more of an “experiment.” Now, at 8, he is getting tall and is super skinny. He is still tan, but his hair is light brown now—and out of control wild if it gets more than an inch long (and even then it is crazy—he has a double crown and a super weird, uneven hairline in front! No matter how his hair is cut, it looks like we went crazy and hacked it all off). He is losing teeth like crazy and finally has learned how to read—and, more importantly, to have a thrill of discovery about it, rather than acting like it is a chore. He has been cautious and careful since birth—at 10 months old, he would babysign the word “nervous” when scared about something and he is still likely to hang back in new situations.

Pre-pregnancy, I always envisioned myself having girls, but my Lannbaby quickly showed me that being a boymom is a great thing to be and I felt content to remain exclusively a boymom if that was my destiny.

He is amazingly creative and is constantly bubbling with ideas and projects. He draws all the time and does things like make books titled, “Impossible Things to Do in Your Own Back Yard.” He is highly verbal—always has been—and is maturing in his outlook/grasp on the world. For example, just last night Mark was telling me about wanting to buy some new exercise equipment (as I told him, there are some things in life I don’t believe in, and buying exercise equipment is one of them!). I said to Mark, “sure, fine. Go ahead and buy it. It’s totally okay with me for you to spend all our money on something that will just sit in the corner. I’m fine with it, really!” Lann was lying on the bed watching us and he said, “Gee, Mom, you are really bad at guilt tripping, aren’t you?” It cracked us up!

I’m amazed at how awesome it is to have an 8 year old and a baby at the same time. He is so much help and is a great big brother to both of his siblings. It is excellent to have someone who can stand by the cart while I use the bathroom at the store, or who can play with the baby while I take a shower, or who can carry the baby out to the carseat for me so I don’t have to make two trips. I find myself feeling completely weirded out by the fact that as his baby teeth are steadily falling out, hers are coming in. Where does the time go? It spins so fast and life just keeps rolling along, each stage so vibrant, real, all-encompassing, and normal, and yet *blink* there I am with my newborn son in my arms, feeling my heart crack wide open and my boundaries becoming stretched beyond all imagining. Feeling my way along as we are birthed into our new roles together, triumphant and tender all at the same time. Challenged beyond belief in the adjustments required to my sense of self, awed by my own ability to give and to adapt, shocked by the magnitude of the changes wrought in my life by one tiny soul. I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again, in the words of Naomi Wolf,  A mother is not born when a baby is born; a mother is forged, made. Lann was the first babysmith of my life and the forging of my new self in the flames of motherhood was, and is, a potent, powerful, intense, transformative, and irreplaceable rite of passage—body, mind, heart, and soul. Thanks, baby!

Here we are, tender and new:

Listening to a harmonica being played

Family hug

Crawling

Mohawk boy...

Peeking out!

First birthday cake!

**Blink!**

Missing teeth!

Getting ready to play laser tag for family birthday party fun!

Birthday cash this morning!

With brother and sister (here, she's trying to escape)

And, yes, I cried while I was doing this…