Looking forward to the year ahead

The last of the spring activities has come and gone now.  Ball equipment has been moved out of our mudroom, with the exception of a sole ball and glove in each child's cubby hole.  We've had a few days now to catch our breath.  I take a deep exhale and feel my shoulder blades ease their way down my back.  We have a lazy long weekend ahead of us.  And I'm loving the quiet moments here now as my children play at the playground with their father.  Oh, it's been awhile since I've had the house entirely to myself.  Loving it.

We've had a great year together, in this first year of homeschooling, and I find my mind wandering back to what we've done and where we'll go next year.  Oh, there were moments when I was low on energy and not at my best.  There were times when I wondered if this was the best decision for my family.  The children did some great projects and we met some amazing people.  I feel blessed to have had such an intimate seat to witness my children's learning from.

And now I turn my attention toward next year, for I'm happy to say the overwhelming majority chose to continue on this homeschooling path!  I'm looking forward to adding more rhythm to our days, as I found it difficult to navigate our days, especially in the last several months.  To do this, I plan to take the time to organize our days, weeks, and months in advance.  Nothing specific like, "we will learn about birds on the 15th of September".  But I will make sure that all of us are aware of the field trips, errands, activities, and other items that fill our calendar so quickly.  I will carve out spaces in our calendar for things that are important to us...project time, time outside, empty time where my children can simply grab an idea or a whim and let it take them on an adventure of the loud or quiet variety.  While this may sound overly restrictive, my intent is to provide some predictability to our days.  To provide a rhythm that we can move through our days to.  To bring about a sense of peace when it often seems that we are wobbling on a tightrope and are about to fall into chaos.

And perhaps this summer can be our practice time for developing a rhythm that works for us.  Because right now, our calendar feels gloriously empty.  We have the space to build our days from the ground up.  I have the freedom to exert discipline on myself to hold sacred the rhythm we create.  I'll be spending some lazy days reading and re-reading some books to focus myself (Simplicity Parenting, Project-Based Homeschooling, Rhythm of Family, Seven Times the Sun, All Year Round, Heaven on Earth).  I'll play around with some schedules to see how they look.  I'll start gathering materials now, and also schedule in time for gathering later.  I'll do a better job recording what topics my children seem to be enjoying and get some feedback on what they want to learn.  I'll start researching resources and projects now so that I don't feel drained when we wrap up one topic and are moving onto the next.

Even with all this organization, which I admit sounds a little too hyper-organized on paper, I will remind myself to keep flexible.  I'll remind myself to pause and re-look at our education plan to make sure we're keeping with the philosophy we aspire to.  I'll remind myself to listen to my children and their needs.  And I'll remind myself to listen to my own inner voice, and give myself the space I need to give my children the best of me.

Club Day. The Birds of Prey version.

Today's post could have easily read something like "scavenger hunt gadgetry" or "jackpot denied".  We made the Birds of Prey Club navigation finale all about geocaching.  It seemed like an ideal way to cap off the work we had done on using compasses and understanding latitude and longitude.

Perhaps a definition is in order for those unfamiliar with geocaching.  In my own words, it is like a high-tech, world-wide scavenger hunt.  There are containers, "caches", hidden in various places in neighbourhoods, parks, urban, rural and wilderness locations around the world.  Inside the caches are a logbook and little trinkets - treasure!  Information about the caches, such as coordinates and clues, can be found via a web search.  The coordinates are plugged into a GPS unit, and you use the guidance of the GPS, plus your own smarts, to find the cache.  Once it is found, you sign the logbook and take a trinket, while being sure to leave a trinket for the next person to find the cache.  Oh, and you're supposed to do all this while not arousing the curiosity or suspicions of non-geocachers (known as "muggles" in the geocaching world).

The adventure started this morning, with Nicholas and I navigating our bus system (which currently has numerous detours due to summer construction) to our provincial Parks and Recreation Association to borrow GPS units.  They also provided some easy-to-follow instructions for how to enter coordinates, tips for finding caches, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Geocaching, and a tag we could place inside a cache once we found one.  All for free.  Sweet!

Nicholas and I discovered soon after that this whole geocaching thing sounded easier than it actually was.  In order to be inconspicuous, many caches are quite small and many are camouflaged and well hidden so they do not become accidentally discovered by "muggles".  The GPS is accurate enough to often get the searchers within 10 feet of the cache, but it can still feel like searching for a needle in a haystack, particularly since the GPS can't tell you whether the cache is hidden on the ground, dangling from a tree branch, or shoved into a tiny crevice somewhere in between (though the cache owner can provide hints or clues).  Many caches are also in quite public places (the ones we tried for a test drive were at a gas station and the library), so it felt impossible not to look a little strange while trying to track down these tiny caches.  Unfortunately, we struck out.

The two caches that were in the park by our house were labelled "micro" caches, which means they were similar in size to a roll of film.  Because we hadn't had any luck finding caches in the morning and I feared the same fate this afternoon, I pondered building a cache and hiding it in the park for the Birds of Prey Club to find.  Unfortunately, we ran out of time.  If I had the chance to do a do-over, I would have a contingency cache ready to go so it would be easier to set up a plan B.

At any rate, once the Clubbers were given a brief introduction to the GPS unit, we entered our coordinates and were off.  Of course, everything was easy until that last 10 feet - it appeared that our location was in between 4 trees.  We had a hint that the cache would be hidden about 3 feet high.  So we started our search by looking around each tree.  The Clubbers had interesting approaches to searching...some climbed trees to "get a better view", while others did a quick scan.  I tried to encourage them to think like the person who hid the cache - if it were them, where would they have hidden it?  We also tried to use other clues, such as areas where it looked like there was foot traffic where there shouldn't have been.  In the end, though, we had to wind up our search and we went home empty-handed.

The thrill of the hunt was definitely fun, though.  I think this thing could get addictive very quickly! 

My cheerleaders

This weekend, I did my first ever try-a-tri, or mini-triathlon.  It was a 300 yard swim, followed by a 12 kilometer bike ride, and finished off with a 3 kilometer run.  In a bid to get myself in shape, I had enrolled in a triathlon 101 class last fall.  At the time, I had no goal to compete in a race, though I new that entering one would help me keep up with training.  As training continued, I began to think I could complete one of these introductory races.  I knew that I had little chance of winning one - after all, my legs are quite content to move at toddler speed.  But I wanted to see how it felt just to do all of the events and finish a race.  I entered one on a whim.  And then race day was here. 

Early in the morning, I rolled out of bed and took one final peek into my backpack to make sure I had everything.  All was quiet in the house when I left.  I cruised the quiet streets to the pool, wondering if Chris would wake up and successfully rouse the others from their slumber as he mentioned he hoped to do.  When race time rolled around, it was impossible to see if they actually made it.

Fast forward through the swim and the last stretch of the first lap on the bike.  There they were!  With signs and cheers and smiles.  Oh, it made this mama's heart leap for joy.  I couldn't stop waving at them every time I passed them.  Thank you, sweet family of mine!

Summer solstice

I lamented about how we had difficulty celebrating the spring equinox, and we worked extra-hard to make the summer solstice special.  Here's what was going on around our house yesterday...

I made the children summer painting books.  The cover is made of felt and the pages are canvas.  The project came from Alphabet Glue.  These books greeted the children at the table in the morning.

After breakfast, we made whipper-whoppers, which is basically a paper propeller on a string.  The project came from All Year Round, and was in the "toys for summer air" section of the book.  Once the children finished making their whipper-whoppers, they ran up and down the street with their toys whirling behind them.  Then they hung them in the tree at the corner of our house.  Then they sipped some sweet iced tea and enjoyed a picnic lunch outside.

 

 

In the afternoon, we went to the playground, but not before the children began constructing a campground and I made a flying streamer bag (also from All Year Round).  I decided to use long fabric strips from my scrap fabric basket instead of crepe paper.  While the beanbag won't make the same noises without the crepe paper, I wanted it to be more durable.

While at the playground, the children built a sand fort, inspired somewhat by the Halifax Citadel we visited almost a year ago.  Astrin swung and slid, and there was so much joy and happiness surrounding us on this lovely summer afternoon.

 

 

The children finished their campground while I cooked supper...there was a dining shelter, children's games and activities, and of course the admission gate!

Welcome summer!

A week in pictures

 



Enjoy your weekend!

Club Day. The Nature Version.

Since the spring equinox and the lacklustre attempt I made to celebrate the change of the seasons, I made a commitment to myself to do a better job to welcome summer.  Given that the summer solstice is tomorrow, and with no other ideas really motivating me, I decided to flip through All Year Round for inspiration.  And after a bit of humming and hawing, I chose to lead Nature Club in creating a paper summer solstice spiral.

Before we made our spirals, we talked a bit about the summer solstice.  We talked about the equator and how it separates the northern and southern hemispheres.  We talked about how summer in the north is winter in the south.  We talked about the earth's axis, and how the tilt of the earth leads to the number of daylight hours changing throughout the year.  This led us to a little chat of how ancient cultures created stories to explain the changing seasons and the changing positions of the sun.  We talked about how some cultures believed that fairies would be full of mischief on midsummer's eve.  Then I read a story out of All Year Round called The Rusty Dirk. 

Once we finished the story and tidied up after our snack, we started making our summer solstice spiral.  It was simply two smaller spirals inside one large spiral.  The spirals stay in place by resting on top of wooden beads, which are secured with knots.  The instructions called for gold foil, which I could not find.  I replaced it with a gold translucent vellum paper, which was about normal paper weight.  Next time, I would experiment with a heavier weight paper, even though I think that a heavy card stock would be too heavy.  I found that our six- and seven-year olds were able to do the cutting fairly well, but some needed help with handling the slinky gold thread we used.

Welcome, summer!

Water movie

Today had the makings of the movie.  It started with me awaking with a start, afraid that I had overslept and wouldn't have time to get out to weed, replant and water the garden.  I rushed to get dressed and drain the peas and corn that I had soaked overnight, then grabbed the keys and walked out the door to the car.

Pan over to a peaceful garden scene with birds chirping merrily and a lone person happily on hands and knees with dirt under her fingernails.  After straightening up to survey the gardens around her, she sighs and appreciates the green growth all around her.  She shakes out of her reverie and unloads most of the trunk to pull out the hose and sets up the sprinkler.  A few harmless drops of water land on her hat and shoulders, and though the water is cold, she smiles as she thinks of how much those moist seeds and tiny seedlings will soak up the moisture.  She checks the time and hurriedly returns to the car so she can start supper and boil some eggs for lunch.

In our next scene, the family is bustling to get to the farmer's market and downtown library before the noon rush hour.  The clouds could spell rain, so our busy mom checks the internet to find out when the experts expect the clouds to overflow and send their droplets down to earth.  Not until the evening.  And with that news, the mother asks her son to start wheeling the bikes out of the garage.  As the final items are being shoved into bags, the family notices big fat droplets hitting the ground.  Just as soon as they started, they stop.  A quick family meeting results in a consensus that biking is still the way to go, and a little bit of rain won't get in their way.  The bike caravan shoves off and they are on their way!

With lunches happily purchased and enjoyed, our family heads to the duck ponds.  Our family learned that feeding bread to the waterfowl can swing their diets out of balance and cause damage to their wing feathers.  So the son happily pulls out individual bags of cereal he prepared (Red River, if I'm not mistaken), passes them out to the other family that has joined us and we start to make our way around the pond.  The children run ahead and the toddler tries to convince the geese and ducks that she has the best cereal.

As the group is rounding the corner and on its way to the nesting site of the swans, the mother sees out of the corner of her eye her daughter (the older one) reaching just a bit too far to feed the geese, and toppling into the pond head first!  The mother drops everything, but the little girl is back to the side of the pond, retrieving the bag of cereal she dropped, and pulling herself out in no time.  She is scared and cold and wet from head to toe, but she was quick-thinking and strong.  Her mama squeezes her tight and tells her so.  The group quickly comes up with a plan to get this little one out of her wet clothes and warm and dry...the friends will drive her home while the mama, son and toddler bike home.

As the family bikes furiously, the skies open up.   While it is likely a gentle rain and our family has brought rain jackets, they are soaked and out of breath by the time they get home.  The little girl and her friends greet them at the back step, like nothing even happened.  The little girl even cracked a couple of jokes on the way home about her predicament.  The fright of the event appears to be gone.

The family moves through the rest of the quiet afternoon with the little girl drawing a warm bath with scented bath salts, reading and sewing.  The rains continue off and on for the rest of the afternoon and soon the mother looks out the window to get a read on the likelihood of ball games that evening.  And what she sees startles her.  For to the east are sunny skies with harmless little white clouds dancing peacefully.  But to the west are darker, more ominous clouds.  A clap of thunder can be heard in the distance.  Is the storm coming or going?  As she looks closer, she sees that the storm clouds themselves are none too sure either.  For they start slowly swirling and one group of clouds has broken off to form a circle.  It's not a funnel cloud, but is this how funnel clouds, and eventually tornadoes, start?  The son has noticed the cloud too and is also suspicious.  He's ready to dart into the basement, and he quickly alerts his sister to the potential danger.  To help the children control their panic, for fear can lurk in the unknown, the mother calmly tells the children that the cloud is nothing yet, but that we have been afforded the luxury of time if it does turn into something.  Perhaps we could use our time to gather a few essentials...flashlights, a few bottles of water, super-special stuffed animals, the pet fish.  By the time all the items are gathered up, the cloud has broken apart and looks wet, but harmless.

Feeling all is safe, at least as far as the threat of tornadoes goes, and not receiving any messages about ball games being cancelled, our first wave of troops head out the door.  Only to return 10 minutes later lightly drenched (for the second time that day!).  For the coaches made a last-minute decision that lightening and lightening rods baseball bats are not a good combo.  Soon after, the second group of troops return home with the same news.  Better late than never, I guess.

We sense the day is now coming to a close.  And what a full day it has been!  As the older children are being tucked into their beds, their thoughts turn to what-ifs.  What if a storm had come and they were not safe?  What if they were safe but their parents were not - who would take care of them?  What if no one but the fish were safe - who would take care of the fish?  Big tears form in troubled eyes now realizing the mortality of us all.  Hugs are offered, along with comforting words and reassurances that they are surrounded by an extended family who loves them and will take care of them.  That, in fact, those who have passed before us are taking care of our four-legged friends while they wait for us at the Rainbow Bridge.

The evening draws to a close.  The house is quiet save the sound of the wind rustling the branches and leaves on the trees and the odd car that races past.  Thoughts turn towards brightening up the next few days, as we prepare for the summer solstice.  Enjoying every last ounce of sunshine in our short summers.  Enjoying all the mundane and outrageous moments of a family that lives and learns and loves together.  For our time here, like the summertime, is short.