Spain and First Grade Curriculum

Our quote of the day is brought to you by Reezle: "Sticky is my furry sister. She picked me to be her non-furry sister." Indeed she did.

This morning started off with some unexpected excitement; the OLS had Little G's 1st grade Phonics and Language Arts! The good news? He was super excited and we worked on Phonics today. The not so good news? They don't have 1st grade Math in there yet, nor is it listed in our orders. Of course, that is the one he wants the most, so I bought him a math workbook to hold him over until the OLS updates his curriculum.

In other academic news, we are currently studying Europe in K History. Today's focus was on Spain and I had G color Spain on his Europe map while we talked about it. I found a couple of beautiful time lapse videos on YouTube, which had both of my children saying they want to go to Spain.

They also did some Art, which I will share sometime this weekend. R chose her favorite illustration from a book she recently read, Clara and The Bookwagon, and it turned out amazing! Little G colored Spain's flag and his suitcase for our European adventures.

Over the weekend, I plan to spend some time working with G on his handwriting. His capital letters are great, but his lower case letters could use some refining. I also want to get him writing more sentences, which I'm sure can be easily accomplished just by encouraging him to write descriptive sentences about the things he loves. Like cats. And Math.

I am ready for the weekend. I'm sort of emotionally drained for non-school reasons, and I just want a day or two where I don't have to think about much of anything but snuggling up with my kids and maybe watching some movies, playing a little Monopoly, and getting lost in a good book. The chilly, windy, rainy, 55-degree weather almost begs for chili to be made, so I will probably be adding that to my to-do list as well.

Art

Today, we worked on Art. And other stuff, but I took pictures of them doing Art.

The beautiful results of Art class were these:

And from her former Art class, a sketch that she colored in when she was done:

These kids always manage to leave me in awe of their artistic talents. I'm not nearly so artistically inclined. They're awesome.

After our day was finished, Little G still wanted to work on Math. And so he did, in the Big Second Grade Workbook we found at the Dollar Store.

Today was a good day.

Math and Science Cookies

Just before bed last night, Little G listed various examples of sentences for each type of punctuation (exclamation point, question mark, etc.). When he was done, he said, "Are you going to post that on Facebook? Or are you going to put that on the blog?" Alright, little dude. So here it is; Little G, after a bit of a struggle initially, has learned proper punctuation. And syllables. You want confusion? Try teaching a kid with a communication disorder the difference between number of syllables and number of word sounds. It's not a good time, people. Ugh. I think those two items would have been separated in lessons by weeks, but as of the second day of the fifth week of Kindergarten, my son has completed every bit of Kindergarten Phonics and is now ready for first grade material with more enthusiasm than most kids show at an amusement park.

The other day, we baked cookies for Math (counting cookies) and Science (measuring). I let the kids follow the directions and do the mixing and pouring themselves. Now, I won't say they were the most perfect cookies ever, but they were edible and actually kind of tasty.




They were quite proud of their cookies, as you can see from their little hands presenting them to you. And in case you're wondering, the third picture of them was taken while they were watching the cookies bake. Yes, yes, they did. And, if I do say so myself, this is the most fun I've ever had doing Science and Math.

The cookies we made were snickerdoodles, and the recipe was not ours. You can find the one we used here on allrecipes.com. Oh and, um, it is best viewed with Google Chrome and ad blocker plus. Enjoy!

You're A Grand Old Flag

Monday was rough. Truth be told, so was Friday. I didn't really want to blog about it, but I guess that is life; we all have bad days. I might as well be honest about it and tell it like it is. Not every day is filled with unicorns and glitter. Friday and Monday were filled with bad attitudes, temper tantrums, time-outs...and it wasn't just the kids. There was also very little work done, which made me quite thankful that we are so far ahead.

The difference between homeschooling and when my daughter was in public school is that now I take it very personally when things don't go so well, or when we all just seem to have major attitude problems all on the same day. I fear failing. This is new territory for me, and my confidence can take a hit pretty easily at this point.

Fortunately, today was better. No, today was great. It was the perfect antidote to a lousy few days, and I'm feeling confident once more as my smiling children - who worked diligently all morning and got heaps of work done - are sitting on the floor with crayons busily working on some Halloween coloring pages I found online. Since Little G finished his Math workbook last week and completed all of the remaining Kindergarten Phonics as of today, I have been finding and printing first grade Math and Language Arts worksheets for him. He devours them, especially the themed ones. I've found a surprising amount of fun Halloween Math worksheets.

Daddy recently brought home some miniature flags, which the kids had lots of fun waving as we sang some history-related songs from our curriculum. I've heard You're A Grand Old Flag about 40 times today, but it's all good. They marched around waving their flags and dancing, laughing, being silly.

It was such a contrast to the past few days, like a switch was thrown. The only thing I can figure is that maybe the bright sunshine affects their moods as much as if affects my own.

I talked to my grandma for a little while last night, which almost always means I feel better about life. When I told her about some of the struggles of the previous days, she said, "That's why I think I couldn't have done it. Parents don't have the same authority. No, maybe that's the wrong word. Kids will test parents in ways they won't test teachers. With teachers, there is the unfamiliar, the unknown." And she's right. Well, about the testing part. I believe my grandma can and could do just about anything, and homeschooling is no exception. But yes, and I have even said to Reezle, "Would you be acting like this with Mrs. J?" The answer is invariably "no". And there you have it. But it's simply a different set of challenges than we would face in a bricks and mortar school. And frankly, I'm cool with these challenges. With the bricks and mortar school? Yeah, not so much.

Other Lessons: Want vs. Need

There is much that I want to teach my children. This goes well beyond what they would learn in public school, which is often some of what we would want and a whole lot of what we wouldn't. Among the things I want to teach is living simply.

One does not have to look far to conclude that spending money and having material possessions must be what brings happiness, or that bigger is better. Living Beyond Your Means has become the American way of life, and if you're actually living within your means, you're either rolling in cash or you've accepted that you don't have half of what your friends do.

Our culture is one of entitlement and materialistic arrogance; if lots of other people have something, shouldn't you? Mr. and Mrs. Jones next door have their lawn professionally manicured and chemically treated, so why aren't you entitled to the same? And you can't take your kid to play group wearing something from a discount store clearance rack, no matter how cute or practical it is, if at least two other moms from the group will have their kids dressed in boutique! People are actually more ashamed of lacking material possessions and being judged for it than they are about their financial security.

As a result, our economy is collapsing under the weight of greed and want. This way of life is not healthy for people, and it is not healthy for our country. We can blame the government, the banks, the economy, but it really all boils down to choices we make. It's like pushing over the milk pail and complaining that it has to be cleaned up; people want to do as they wish and have no consequences. Actually, it's going beyond just wanting, because people are starting to believe they deserve that.

So many people talk about how life is so much worse now than when they grew up because most families have to have two working parents to make ends meet. I'm going to say something unpopular about that. I'm going to tell you that many more families could get by on a single income. Thing is, they would have to live in a more reasonably-priced home, give up some of the designer labels, vacation less frequently, and make smarter financial decisions. But it would enable them to spend more time as a family, the thing they claim to wish so desperately for.

Unfortunately, people have themselves convinced that what they are doing what is best for their children, because their children have stuff. Maybe they have a great big home to live in, or lots of expensive gadgets. Perhaps they take pricey vacations or are involved in a sport that is highly cost-prohibitive to the typical family. Whatever it is, it matters more than living a more modest but closer-knit family life. And it's not necessarily a conscious choice; it has simply, and sadly, become the norm.

Not so long ago, I wanted the bigger house, the brand names, the big vacations. But in my disgust over how money can bring out the most disturbing of behavior in people and how money seems to basically be the root of all evil if you really consider what motivates the most horrible things in our world, I started thinking. Simultaneously, a certain mommy blogger was spiraling rapidly into debt and overspending oblivion, and all of it made me sit back and do some real soul searching about my own life and priorities. As far as I can tell, want, and never being content with what one has, is the best way to guarantee debt and misery. It's also a great way to guarantee that you'll look back one day with tremendous regret about missing out on what mattered most. I'm pretty sure no one is going to deeply regret not having owned a few more items from an expensive store.

I started asking myself what made me happiest when I was a child, and what I truly cherish from my early years. None of my answers involved costly things; all of the wonderful things I hold dear are about quality time with my family or running around outside with my cousins and riding my bike as far as my legs would let me. While I did, admittedly, love some of my material possessions, those could not compare to the things which no money could buy.

Our little home is small, but we can easily afford it. We have no need for a larger house. Knowing some of what other families are going through because of wanting too much, I feel resolved to think more about need and less about want. This is not to say I won't still want things, or that we won't still buy things we don't need. If you've got the money, it's fun to spend a little once in a while on something you'd really enjoy having. But I will be much more thoughtful about choices I make.

I want my children to grow up feeling appreciative of what they have, aware of what they need versus what they want. I want them to be willing to work and earn because they know that they are not entitled to what they want simply because they exist. And I want them to know that there are people truly in need, and have a heart to help those who are.

On The State of Things

I don't ask for much for my children from others. I really don't. Aside from his speech therapy, with a therapist I will admit wholeheartedly was amazing, I have provided for all of my son's needs. I taught him sign language when he couldn't speak, created a sensory diet (Google it) to get him from being crippled by something as minor as sleeve length to where he functions well, and, in spite of his autism and having a speech disorder, taught him enough that he is skipping a grade of Math and Language Arts just four weeks into Kindergarten. So, you know, I really don't need much. I got this.

But what would have been nice is if our IEP team, which we've had since G was a baby, would keep us on since (a) we technically are still in the school district because we live here, and (b) it makes sense not to throw a huge wrench into the mix for a situation that is not complicated, and (c) it's really not asking a lot for them to meet with us once each year. But no. Of course not. Because nothing anyone does in this world ever seems to make a bit of sense. Because I am now the enemy of the school district as a homeschooling parent, and they lose money with my children not attending their schools.

As I pore over my interactions with the school district both present and past, I ask myself, what was it I wanted from them that they did not provide? Above and beyond the adherence to their own policies and rules on bullying. Not considering the gym teacher, who lied about my child, then skipped a meeting that was planned and scheduled specifically so she could be there, leaving me no option but to call everyone to reconvene (this was not a popular move on my part). What, exactly, did I hope for?

And then it hit me; it was something I would never have. It was the genuine concern and the family-like atmosphere we had in preschool. It was the desire to have people who truly, honestly cared about my children while my children were in their care for 6+ hours of the day. I know some people might find this absurd, and that's fine. Call me crazy, but I believe that elementary-age - and heck, even older - children need nurturing that goes beyond what is typically offered in school. The fact that those who were most involved with us simply turned their backs in the manner they did proves to me that anything I thought was caring was merely feigned concern proffered up by those who wished nothing more than to appease me so I would not continue to be in their collective faces about their collective failures.

I realize I probably sound angry. I'm not. I'm disappointed. It's more a feeling than something I can put into words. It all makes me sad, suffice it to say that. Sad for my children, sad for the way the world is sometimes, and sad that our world has ventured so far from everything natural and right, replacing it with man-made rules and calling it all good for us as we rapidly deteriorate physically and emotionally as a society.

In which I do some venting...

If you ever want to know EXACTLY where you stand with your school, school district, or special education contacts, simply remove your children from said school district's schools and see what happens. I always felt like I might eventually put my kids back in school at some point. Now I know I won't. This morning sealed it, but this morning was just the final straw.

At the end of last school year, I wrote a sincere thank you letter to R's teacher and e-mailed it. Despite the less than desirable issues with public school, first grade had not been a terrible year because my daughter's experience in the classroom had been positive. At the beginning of last school year, the paperwork to homeschool R was halfway done and she was only in school to bridge the time/attendance gap. Upon learning this, her teacher called me and was very supportive. She said that she understood if I decided to homeschool, and that it would be her (the teacher's) loss because Reezle really added something to the group. The teacher also offered her help if we went that route should any questions arise. As it turned out, she homeschooled her own children for a while. Impressed with the new teacher, we decided to keep R there for first grade.

The teacher and I communicated often by e-mail, so I had no doubt she would receive the letter. But I never heard a word back. As the weeks and months passed by, I wondered if maybe she wasn't logging in over the summer or if perhaps she didn't receive it. I still don't know.

As the start of this school year approached, I wasn't sure if our virtual charter would be contacting our former school or not, so I felt it prudent to make the call myself and talk to the principal. She had become an ally, so I thought, and I felt that we got along well despite a bit of a rocky start. When I told her that R would not be returning, it was clearly a surprise. The call was abruptly ended; there were some awkward well wishes, and the phone was quickly passed off to the school secretary. I can't explain exactly what more I wanted out of that conversation, but suffice it to say it was something more than what I got.

Today I spoke with the director of special education about getting Little G's IEP faxed to his teacher contact through our virtual school. She informed me that she'd mail it to me because a release would be required to fax it, then very unceremoniously informed me that she would no longer be dealing with my son's IEP because he was not attending school in the district. What? Yes, we were dumped, since we are "no longer IN the school district". You know, even though we are.

But you know, I shouldn't care. This county and district have been an epic FAIL at:

* Providing speech services through Early Intervention. They had none, so I taught my son sign language and found and paid for our own speech services until G was of IEP age and the district took over covering the tab.

* Providing occupational therapy. There was a period of time where I showed up for weeks and a therapist did not, so I read a bazillion books on dealing with sensory processing disorder, hypotonia, and motor skills and created a highly-effective sensory diet for him.

* Enforcing their own rules and policies on bullying.

Now, I'm not big on formalities. Okay, maybe I am. But you know, that teacher could have said, "Thanks, I enjoyed working with R, too." The principal could have been less abrupt, since she started at that school when we did and we have worked closely over the past 2 years. I even sent her an e-mail follow-up when the bus stopped here and beeped for Reezle on the first day of school, just to remind her we were enrolled elsewhere, and wished her a good school year at the new school. No response. How long would it have taken to fire back a quick, "Noted. Good luck to you, too!" And the special education director? We've worked together since Gavin was a baby! Her demeanor was perhaps most disappointing of all. You know how someone acts at the very moment they stop pretending to like you? Yeah. That.

The feeling I get is that they are quite pleased to be rid of us. Which, I guess shouldn't surprise me. I was right in everyone's face all the time holding them accountable and expecting them to *gasp* do their jobs. But I realize now that any kindness or concern was fake, and all of the genuine appreciation I had for the things they did manage to do - which I expressed often and via thank you e-mails - was misplaced. And I have to admit, that stings a little. Or a lot. These people walked a difficult road with our family, and while it wasn't always a pleasant journey I did believe the consideration was genuine. Now I know it wasn't.

Whatever. At least I walk away knowing I did the right thing, and acted in a way that I feel good with. But somehow, I'm sure they all feel the same way.