I think it was today, when I received an audio chat invitation from my 11 year old, Marcus, from inside my house, that I realized it had happened. We have officially become totally wired.
Each member of the family now has their own laptop. Miki and I have become Twitter, Facebook and My Space addicts (with My Space now a distant third for me - just too much stuff to keep up with.) I've been going through PDA withdrawal now for three days since my iPod touch went missing. Marcus does Virtual School through the web. Naomi turns in assignments to me through Home-school-inc.com, and messages me even when she's only 10 steps away. Christopher rarely detaches his Blackjack from his fingers for fear losing contact with the phone will signal an early social demise.
Not that I will start pining for the days of tin cans and string being the most advanced communication system available. It would be hypocritical in the least for me to blame my kids for being enthralled by their gadgets when their father practically lives on them. It is simply striking how naturally the digital lifestyle fits them, when some of this technology - Google Maps, audio and video chatting, GPS, etc. - barely existed when they were born.
One topic I am sincerely interested in studying with the kids is how all this technology works. I mean, really - how does my voice show up in a little device a thousand miles away, instantaneously? What kind of electromagnetic energy allows for transmissions from a satellite to my TV dish? And, probably most important, how many people still understand the underpinnings of our digital infrastructure? Is there a self-sustaining brain trust of the finest scientists teaching the next generation of collegiate technocrats? Or, like our economic meltdown, is it simply a house of cards constructed by behemoth companies that no longer understand the depth or complexity of the systems they constructed to support all these technologies? And can we, as consumers of the digital world, continue to be ignorant of how much these systems run our daily lives?
All this puzzles me as I twitter, blog, Skype, and text my way into that same technology driven connection between my closest friends and my most interesting strangers. The connections that this digital lifestyle creates also gives me pause. When did our lives become so fragmented that the only way we feel connected is by placing our thoughts, one moment at a time, on this tapestry of consciousnesses known as Twitter? I've quickly become very interested in seeing people's entries ("Tweets" for the uninitiated), as they give me a glimpse into how other people get through the day. Perhaps it's because each of us feel like no one else really sees us, anymore. The effort to say, "my thoughts, my feelings matter" has been the single driving force behind the advance of the social media tech boom. When people feel disenfranchised from government, or family, or country in a tangible sense, who else is there to turn to but the blogger across the country that is willing to read your complaints and compliments, that seems to have more in common with you than the neighbor that's been across the street for years, but still doesn't know your name?
By no means do I mean to imply that bloggers or Twitterers have no physical or social connections outside of the web. Far from it. I do think it is indicative of our current state that we now feel more connected with who are with us ideologically than who are around us physically. Both my wife and I have been struck by the feeling that many times those around us are simply acquaintances, but not really friends. The hardest part is determining whether it is the fear of rejection by our peers that drives us to connect to our web connections - because they choose to come to us, and it's instant validation. There's no pain of getting to know you, of sharing my intimate feelings before acceptance. There's a click, and a reading of a 120 character bio, some common tag words, and we're linked. Linked in a way that is both entrancing and, perhaps, unrealistic. But only time will tell if our new Internet personalities end up enhancing or diminishing our ability to connect eye to eye, face to face, voice to voice, instead of Voice to Voice Over Internet Protocol.
I must go now though. My cell phone needs charging, my online planner is in need of updating, and online bills must be paid. Maybe I'll unplug one of these weekends and show I'm able to give up all the wiredness, quit cold turkey. Surely I'm not addicted to the point that I can't do a non-digital day. You'll see.
Well, after I buy a new iPod Touch, that is.
Looking unto the hills,
homeschooldaddy
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
A Perfectionist Perspective
How easy life would be if we could truthfully believe what we want to believe about ourselves.
I would love to believe that I'm never motivated by selfish concerns. Would be enthralled by a sense of purpose and clarity in all my actions, coming from a heart of gold and a spiritual mindset.
If only.
Truth is, it's dreadfully easy to fool yourself. P.T. Barnum said "There's a sucker born every minute", but he could have been referring to each of us as suckers for self-deception. When you think you're free of pride, or of making decisions to boost your own self worth rather than others, that's when reality steps in and shows you that you're prone to the same issues that the preening pop star or the pompous politician wrestle with. Not only that, it's tiring sometimes to keep evaluating yourself. Paul implied in Corinthians that he did not even judge himself, and perhaps that's why he had so much energy and focus on God - because judging yourself is a time and emotion consuming enterprise.
So to put practical meat on this metaphysical bone of an introduction, I'm again dealing with a situation where I felt my desires weren't met. (Yes, it's a church thing, as usual) Our services today were at a high school auditorium. Now, as I should, I'll list the successes of the morning: 1300 in attendance, numerous re-dedications and conversions to Christ, a beautiful display of dance, mime, and musical worship, and a dynamic Word from our Pastor. And what did I come away with?
Yep, perfectionist that I am, the negatives overshadowed it. As someone who does programs every week, I should expect the unexpected. But still, when the sound wasn't working, when the offering was shifted without my knowledge, when the song didn't last long enough for offering and we had to pull out an unrehearsed number, and especially when my family ended up walking (Walking!) from the auditorium because I had to break down the equipment and take it back at the church (no room for family in the SUV when it's full of drums and keyboards), well, I didn't feel very spiritual afterward.
So am I selfish?
Where does the line between disappointment and ungratefulness fall? The book I'm currently reading, "The Heart of the Artist", says perfectionist thinking leads to an all good or all bad type of analysis. Either we're on the mountaintop or in the valley. Emotionally, I think Jeremiah and Elijah, maybe even Jonah were like that in God's service. When things went well, they were high on God's truth and His victories. When things went south, they pleaded for release. I, too, have looked for release from trials that to others may seem trivial, but in the heart of the artist they get magnified a hundred times. We wear our hearts on our sleeves through our performance, and all too often they get knocked to the ground, and we can't distinguish whether we were in the right place or time to be offering up service for the pain of unrealized hopes or expectations.
If I had an answer for that type of feeling, a way of acknowledging desire for excellence without missing the point of selfless service, I'd probably have no need to write this entry, because I would have dealt with the problem and gone on about my business. But the struggle is part of the filtering process which allows me to see just where I am in this business of being authentic with myself and with others. Whether things go right is not as important as whether I go right - that is, move in the right direction.
As for family (the real priority), peaks and valleys also dominate the landscape. Peaks include the success of our first few lessons with Learning Language Arts through Literature. Both Marcus and Naomi like their books, and I feel better knowing we'll have a systematic schedule of dealing with grammar and handwriting (Marcus still sees no value in cursive, but I'm about to start requiring it. No other motivation seems to stick.) Our enrichment classes continue to be the highlight of their week. Marcus is developing delivery strategies for his already prodigious public speaking talents, and Naomi has become the stalwart practice queen of baton twirling.
Valleys, well, that would rest on my dear oldest son, who has not started off so well in his all-important junior year. At least he admitted his struggles in Pre-Calc, but transparency doesn't make the grades come up. Considering that he also has issues remembering homework and delivering assignments on time, I'm once again evaluating whether to continue this 'sink or swim' attitude toward his schooling. Knowing he'll be on his own in college and that he'll have to be self motivated and self correcting is one thing - having him fail to make the grades that will get him into the college in the first place is another. Again, not that I didn't expect the valleys, but they just don't seem to get any easier. So I'll sit down with him and really look at what's going on, make the tutor appointments, try to get him to take ownership while not letting him slip through the crack of the "everything's OK" cop-out defense. We'll have to see whether intervention brings results as well as a change in his approach - which I guess is still ultimately up to him. The perfectionist 'keep everything under control' method loses again, which means the 'walk by faith' method will have to kick in. And the journey continues.
After all that, just a little trip to Applebees can seem like an oasis of rest in a desert of bills, grades, and ministry hangups. And we did laugh there at Marcus' charming of the waitress, Naomi's deadpan delivery, and Christopher's quirky perceptions. Miki and I smile at each other more and more when we see them in action, because we simply can't figure out how either of us could have anything to do with how unique our childrens' perspectives are. It's no longer, "She gets that from you," or, "You're just like your..." They are individuals, and now we have to simply love and guide them into being who God wants them to be, not what we expected them to be. I can't say I know what's in store for them, but I know He'll be there with us as the ultimate Parent, and that's enough comfort for us to continue.
Looking unto the hills,
Homeschooldaddy
I would love to believe that I'm never motivated by selfish concerns. Would be enthralled by a sense of purpose and clarity in all my actions, coming from a heart of gold and a spiritual mindset.
If only.
Truth is, it's dreadfully easy to fool yourself. P.T. Barnum said "There's a sucker born every minute", but he could have been referring to each of us as suckers for self-deception. When you think you're free of pride, or of making decisions to boost your own self worth rather than others, that's when reality steps in and shows you that you're prone to the same issues that the preening pop star or the pompous politician wrestle with. Not only that, it's tiring sometimes to keep evaluating yourself. Paul implied in Corinthians that he did not even judge himself, and perhaps that's why he had so much energy and focus on God - because judging yourself is a time and emotion consuming enterprise.
So to put practical meat on this metaphysical bone of an introduction, I'm again dealing with a situation where I felt my desires weren't met. (Yes, it's a church thing, as usual) Our services today were at a high school auditorium. Now, as I should, I'll list the successes of the morning: 1300 in attendance, numerous re-dedications and conversions to Christ, a beautiful display of dance, mime, and musical worship, and a dynamic Word from our Pastor. And what did I come away with?
Yep, perfectionist that I am, the negatives overshadowed it. As someone who does programs every week, I should expect the unexpected. But still, when the sound wasn't working, when the offering was shifted without my knowledge, when the song didn't last long enough for offering and we had to pull out an unrehearsed number, and especially when my family ended up walking (Walking!) from the auditorium because I had to break down the equipment and take it back at the church (no room for family in the SUV when it's full of drums and keyboards), well, I didn't feel very spiritual afterward.
So am I selfish?
Where does the line between disappointment and ungratefulness fall? The book I'm currently reading, "The Heart of the Artist", says perfectionist thinking leads to an all good or all bad type of analysis. Either we're on the mountaintop or in the valley. Emotionally, I think Jeremiah and Elijah, maybe even Jonah were like that in God's service. When things went well, they were high on God's truth and His victories. When things went south, they pleaded for release. I, too, have looked for release from trials that to others may seem trivial, but in the heart of the artist they get magnified a hundred times. We wear our hearts on our sleeves through our performance, and all too often they get knocked to the ground, and we can't distinguish whether we were in the right place or time to be offering up service for the pain of unrealized hopes or expectations.
If I had an answer for that type of feeling, a way of acknowledging desire for excellence without missing the point of selfless service, I'd probably have no need to write this entry, because I would have dealt with the problem and gone on about my business. But the struggle is part of the filtering process which allows me to see just where I am in this business of being authentic with myself and with others. Whether things go right is not as important as whether I go right - that is, move in the right direction.
As for family (the real priority), peaks and valleys also dominate the landscape. Peaks include the success of our first few lessons with Learning Language Arts through Literature. Both Marcus and Naomi like their books, and I feel better knowing we'll have a systematic schedule of dealing with grammar and handwriting (Marcus still sees no value in cursive, but I'm about to start requiring it. No other motivation seems to stick.) Our enrichment classes continue to be the highlight of their week. Marcus is developing delivery strategies for his already prodigious public speaking talents, and Naomi has become the stalwart practice queen of baton twirling.
Valleys, well, that would rest on my dear oldest son, who has not started off so well in his all-important junior year. At least he admitted his struggles in Pre-Calc, but transparency doesn't make the grades come up. Considering that he also has issues remembering homework and delivering assignments on time, I'm once again evaluating whether to continue this 'sink or swim' attitude toward his schooling. Knowing he'll be on his own in college and that he'll have to be self motivated and self correcting is one thing - having him fail to make the grades that will get him into the college in the first place is another. Again, not that I didn't expect the valleys, but they just don't seem to get any easier. So I'll sit down with him and really look at what's going on, make the tutor appointments, try to get him to take ownership while not letting him slip through the crack of the "everything's OK" cop-out defense. We'll have to see whether intervention brings results as well as a change in his approach - which I guess is still ultimately up to him. The perfectionist 'keep everything under control' method loses again, which means the 'walk by faith' method will have to kick in. And the journey continues.
After all that, just a little trip to Applebees can seem like an oasis of rest in a desert of bills, grades, and ministry hangups. And we did laugh there at Marcus' charming of the waitress, Naomi's deadpan delivery, and Christopher's quirky perceptions. Miki and I smile at each other more and more when we see them in action, because we simply can't figure out how either of us could have anything to do with how unique our childrens' perspectives are. It's no longer, "She gets that from you," or, "You're just like your..." They are individuals, and now we have to simply love and guide them into being who God wants them to be, not what we expected them to be. I can't say I know what's in store for them, but I know He'll be there with us as the ultimate Parent, and that's enough comfort for us to continue.
Looking unto the hills,
Homeschooldaddy
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
The Perils of Caring
In one of the Star Trek movies (the Next Generation, not the classic Kirk ones), Lt. Commander Data, the super smart android, gets an emotion chip that allows him to feel. He is almost overwhelmed by the flood of emotional content, from sadness to extreme giddiness, and laments how emotions can be so fulfilling and yet so destructive and debilitating. I have to concur. I sometimes wish I could take the emotional content of my brain, place it in a bottle, and label it as "contents under pressure", where I would shake it up and release it only when there was a safe perimeter where no one, including myself, would be hurt. Unfortunately, they remain within the fragile and all too easily breached container of my own being.
In short, I wish I didn't get hurt so easily, by rejection, failure, or the misery and rejection of others. It makes for a poor leader that can't handle watching his followers take a necessary hit of humble pie, even when they need it. It also makes a less than appealing husband, when it's necessary for one of us, namely me, to maintain a sense of optimism when my better half is feeling the worse. And as a father, I'm probably guilty of not showing my kids how to handle adversity without looking like adversity is handling me. There is a thin line between true grit and determination and false hope, but I know I've been too visibly down around the kids, and they know when things aren't right. Shutting off the dissapointments of life isn't healthy, but neither is the wallowing, and I've lost the balance lately.
Not that I can complain - the roof hasn't caved in yet (although these storms keep us on our toes - we can't call a roofer because the next storm is always two days away), the kids finally have their curriculum for the year, and the car has held up for three months longer than I thought it would. But relationship wise, I'm coming to realize that my desire for real friends and strong interdependant relationships has been unmet, because I have no safe area to vent. When I hear things like the craziness surrounding the elections, instead of thinking "Tsk, tsk", and going about my business, I instead feel like throwing the TV through the wall. I nearly cried when I heard our school superindentent was bought out over dumb personality conflicts and not over his actual job performance. Injustice and conflict seem to be daggers pointed directly at my heart, and I just wonder if there is a place where I could hole up and let someone else care.
I suppose there are things I could do. I could throw myself more into helping others, as I taught at Bible Study on Tuesday - find others lower than myself and help them up. I could spend more time with the kids and really get into their loves and desires, and keep myself from spending too much time worrying about my molehills masquerading as mountains. I could simply be more tough skinned, give myself a 1 Timothy pep talk about power, love and sound mind replacing the spirit of fear.
Or, I can admit that God made me tenderhearted. Admit that I may be wired to be sensitive to the cares of others, and accept the joys and pains of empathy. And when the darts of life pierce through the membrane of my emotional bubble, I can shuffle to my Father, holding it up like a child shows a mother his skinned knee, asking for a kiss of healing. The Father asks, "Show me where it hurts." I point to my heart, and wait for the feeling of being care for to wash over the pain and soothe the hurt over with a salve of security. No cream, Band-Aid, or antiseptic can do what that one kiss of comfort does - remind me that Someone cares more than I ever could.
Looking unto the hills,
homeschooldaddy
In short, I wish I didn't get hurt so easily, by rejection, failure, or the misery and rejection of others. It makes for a poor leader that can't handle watching his followers take a necessary hit of humble pie, even when they need it. It also makes a less than appealing husband, when it's necessary for one of us, namely me, to maintain a sense of optimism when my better half is feeling the worse. And as a father, I'm probably guilty of not showing my kids how to handle adversity without looking like adversity is handling me. There is a thin line between true grit and determination and false hope, but I know I've been too visibly down around the kids, and they know when things aren't right. Shutting off the dissapointments of life isn't healthy, but neither is the wallowing, and I've lost the balance lately.
Not that I can complain - the roof hasn't caved in yet (although these storms keep us on our toes - we can't call a roofer because the next storm is always two days away), the kids finally have their curriculum for the year, and the car has held up for three months longer than I thought it would. But relationship wise, I'm coming to realize that my desire for real friends and strong interdependant relationships has been unmet, because I have no safe area to vent. When I hear things like the craziness surrounding the elections, instead of thinking "Tsk, tsk", and going about my business, I instead feel like throwing the TV through the wall. I nearly cried when I heard our school superindentent was bought out over dumb personality conflicts and not over his actual job performance. Injustice and conflict seem to be daggers pointed directly at my heart, and I just wonder if there is a place where I could hole up and let someone else care.
I suppose there are things I could do. I could throw myself more into helping others, as I taught at Bible Study on Tuesday - find others lower than myself and help them up. I could spend more time with the kids and really get into their loves and desires, and keep myself from spending too much time worrying about my molehills masquerading as mountains. I could simply be more tough skinned, give myself a 1 Timothy pep talk about power, love and sound mind replacing the spirit of fear.
Or, I can admit that God made me tenderhearted. Admit that I may be wired to be sensitive to the cares of others, and accept the joys and pains of empathy. And when the darts of life pierce through the membrane of my emotional bubble, I can shuffle to my Father, holding it up like a child shows a mother his skinned knee, asking for a kiss of healing. The Father asks, "Show me where it hurts." I point to my heart, and wait for the feeling of being care for to wash over the pain and soothe the hurt over with a salve of security. No cream, Band-Aid, or antiseptic can do what that one kiss of comfort does - remind me that Someone cares more than I ever could.
Looking unto the hills,
homeschooldaddy
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thanks Familyman...
No better way for me to say this, so here's the entire Familyman e-newsletter for this week.
Thanks Todd for making me feel a little better as I fight the urge to avoid the kids this weekend...(I'm being honest...)
Thanks Todd for making me feel a little better as I fight the urge to avoid the kids this weekend...(I'm being honest...)
Hey Dad,
Sorry for getting this to you so late this week. I’ve been behind the ball, and the fruit flies are back. I’m telling you, these little goomers appear out of nowhere. You leave half a banana on the counter, and the next thing you know, boom! You have an infestation. Well, I didn’t mean to burden you with my hardships, but I do want to wish you a happy Labor Day and to tell you to make it a good’un.
Labor Day is a bittersweet weekend, signaling the end of summer and the beginning of school and routine. Not that that’s all bad, but it still feels kind of sad to me. But thankfully we have a holiday to ease our pain.
In fact, today we’re heading over to my in-law’s lake cottage for a couple of days of last summer fun. We’ll swim in the noticeably colder water, eat watermelon, and sit on the porch talking while the kids play in the notably colder water. All the while, I’ll be thinking about how the summer is over, fall is right around the corner, and that I’ve got an infestation of fruit flies in my home.
I’ve also been thinking about the somewhat-annual backyard camping trip that needs to happen in the next couple of weekends before the nights turn really cold. I’m not sure we’ve pitched the tent in our yard in the last two years, but I know it’s time to get it out. The kids love it. They love the smell of the tent, the warmth of the fire, and the frigid cold in the morning.
I don’t love it---but I love them and what happens when we camp in the backyard. If you want the painfully honest truth, I don’t really love most of what my kids love doing. I don’t love playing kickball, going on bike rides, hosting the Wilson Olympics, or having pillow fights in the familyroom.
BUT---I do love my children and they LOVE doing all that stuff---with ME.
So, Dad, make this Labor Day a good’un. Play hard, camp in the backyard, take a canoe trip down a creek, go for a long-promised bike ride, go to the mall to do some serious back-to-school clothes shopping, or whatever else it is that your children would love to do with you.
Yeah, I know you don’t love doing those things---but I know you do love them.
You ‘da dad,
Todd
Sorry for getting this to you so late this week. I’ve been behind the ball, and the fruit flies are back. I’m telling you, these little goomers appear out of nowhere. You leave half a banana on the counter, and the next thing you know, boom! You have an infestation. Well, I didn’t mean to burden you with my hardships, but I do want to wish you a happy Labor Day and to tell you to make it a good’un.
Labor Day is a bittersweet weekend, signaling the end of summer and the beginning of school and routine. Not that that’s all bad, but it still feels kind of sad to me. But thankfully we have a holiday to ease our pain.
In fact, today we’re heading over to my in-law’s lake cottage for a couple of days of last summer fun. We’ll swim in the noticeably colder water, eat watermelon, and sit on the porch talking while the kids play in the notably colder water. All the while, I’ll be thinking about how the summer is over, fall is right around the corner, and that I’ve got an infestation of fruit flies in my home.
I’ve also been thinking about the somewhat-annual backyard camping trip that needs to happen in the next couple of weekends before the nights turn really cold. I’m not sure we’ve pitched the tent in our yard in the last two years, but I know it’s time to get it out. The kids love it. They love the smell of the tent, the warmth of the fire, and the frigid cold in the morning.
I don’t love it---but I love them and what happens when we camp in the backyard. If you want the painfully honest truth, I don’t really love most of what my kids love doing. I don’t love playing kickball, going on bike rides, hosting the Wilson Olympics, or having pillow fights in the familyroom.
BUT---I do love my children and they LOVE doing all that stuff---with ME.
So, Dad, make this Labor Day a good’un. Play hard, camp in the backyard, take a canoe trip down a creek, go for a long-promised bike ride, go to the mall to do some serious back-to-school clothes shopping, or whatever else it is that your children would love to do with you.
Yeah, I know you don’t love doing those things---but I know you do love them.
You ‘da dad,
Todd
Looking unto the hills,
homeschooldaddy
homeschooldaddy
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Time's Up
A rare morning post.
I know I just wrote that 5 AM was too early to be getting up to work out, but I immediately realized after writing that most of the time I'd be up by 6 anyway, so it was a bit disingenuous. This morning I awoke, tried to go to the family room where I have my devotional time, and found it buried in papers and things to file. So in order to put God first, I had to clean up the area where I meet Him. I think there's a lesson in that somewhere.
As for homeschooling, I've come to the conclusion that I have to get on the ball concerning the kids' academic choices this year. We've kind of done it backwards in that they've already chosen extra curricular activities - Marcus is taking Public Speaking, Guitar, Ceramics, and Sports at our Friday classes at Riverside, while Naomi opted for 'Miami CSI' (forensics), Baton Twirling and Cake Decorating - but I'm still undecided on our core curricula. Language Arts still seems to be Naomi's Achilles' heel. I've taken a close look at Sonlight and Four in a Row, but I'm not convinced there's enough of the intergration between literature and critical thinking that I'd like to see. My approach has always been to avoid the mundane workbook style questions you see in so many texts. In the last workbook I bought for her, I found sentences that seemed to come right out of a UN manifesto, like"The four countries agreed to make a treaty to reduce pollution" (reference to Kyoto). Meanwhile, not one sentence referred to a business or to someone working in the private sector.
Since public school is now in session, the pressure begins to keep up, even as I try to maintain our own pace and direction. I'm glad to say that my wife fills in the gap while I rummage through the decision making process. She finds review work through ABCTeach.com and other sites that keeps them busy for the first two weeks. The tricky thing about unit studies is not running into points where you cover subjects but not skills, so my effort will be to combine the two as well as possible. I'll be sure to post after I finish my research and make a decision - I'd love some comments or suggestions from anyone who's in the same boat I am.
Looking unto the hills,
homeschooldaddy
I know I just wrote that 5 AM was too early to be getting up to work out, but I immediately realized after writing that most of the time I'd be up by 6 anyway, so it was a bit disingenuous. This morning I awoke, tried to go to the family room where I have my devotional time, and found it buried in papers and things to file. So in order to put God first, I had to clean up the area where I meet Him. I think there's a lesson in that somewhere.
As for homeschooling, I've come to the conclusion that I have to get on the ball concerning the kids' academic choices this year. We've kind of done it backwards in that they've already chosen extra curricular activities - Marcus is taking Public Speaking, Guitar, Ceramics, and Sports at our Friday classes at Riverside, while Naomi opted for 'Miami CSI' (forensics), Baton Twirling and Cake Decorating - but I'm still undecided on our core curricula. Language Arts still seems to be Naomi's Achilles' heel. I've taken a close look at Sonlight and Four in a Row, but I'm not convinced there's enough of the intergration between literature and critical thinking that I'd like to see. My approach has always been to avoid the mundane workbook style questions you see in so many texts. In the last workbook I bought for her, I found sentences that seemed to come right out of a UN manifesto, like"The four countries agreed to make a treaty to reduce pollution" (reference to Kyoto). Meanwhile, not one sentence referred to a business or to someone working in the private sector.
Since public school is now in session, the pressure begins to keep up, even as I try to maintain our own pace and direction. I'm glad to say that my wife fills in the gap while I rummage through the decision making process. She finds review work through ABCTeach.com and other sites that keeps them busy for the first two weeks. The tricky thing about unit studies is not running into points where you cover subjects but not skills, so my effort will be to combine the two as well as possible. I'll be sure to post after I finish my research and make a decision - I'd love some comments or suggestions from anyone who's in the same boat I am.
Looking unto the hills,
homeschooldaddy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
