Time To Not Go Back To School Again

So it's that time of year again, and everyone is asking when I plan on starting.  I ask them, "Are you referring to when I plan on starting not sending my kids back to school?"  The response is rarely a laugh, and usually a sincere, "Yes, when do you start homeschool, before or after Labor day?"

This seasonal conversation highlights one of the biggest differences in mindset of a homeschooling mom and a non-homeschooling mom.  Homeschooling is about integration of life and learning.  It is about natural, organic if you will, education.  It is education not defined by any parameters, not least of which is dates and time.  Which is why it is also difficult to answer to the question of "how much time each day do you spend homeschooling?"  It is as if we speak different languages.  I don't have any set dates, or set times, when learning occurs as opposed to not learning.  Vacation and work are intertwined.  We homeschool all year, and 24 hours each day.  And yet none of those hours is anything like school at all.

"When are you starting?" is a question that reminds me how different homeschooling is from regular school.  I don't usually have an official start date for not sending my kids back to school.  In our lifestyle, summer and fall flow seamlessly into each other, as do all the other seasons.  Usually, what will happen is, one day, sometimes well into September, I will notice that all my kids are home, some playing chess while some are coloring.  I might marvel at the temporary serenity and calmness in an otherwise hectic day, and that moment of pause will make me realize that indeed I am homeschooling my kids.  So maybe that is my official start day.  But how do you explain that to someone who wants a quick answer?  I guess the quick answer is, sometime after Labor Day.

Lessons Learned From My Grandmother

It has been almost six months since I lost my beloved grandmother.  My mind has still not completely digested that she is gone.  There are moments when I reach for the phone to call her, to tell her something I know she would appreciate.  It came as a surprise how much I miss telling her every Friday what I cooked for Shabbat.  Less surprising is how bittersweet good news has become, without being able to share it with her.

There were some questions I never got to ask her.  I have always wondered if she was happy with some of her choices in life, and if she would have done things differently if she could do it over.  There are questions that I never would have asked her, because she would have considered them foolish.  She would have said, what is the point of wondering what could have been?  She taught me to accept your lot even while trying to improve it.  She taught me that life doesn't have to be what you want for you to be happy, and people don't have to be perfect for you to love them.  She taught me that love and happiness are a choice  you make, not something that happens to you.

She was the strongest woman I have ever known.  As a young teenager, she escaped Nazi Germany barely in time, and moved with her parents and brother to Australia.  She left everything and everyone she ever knew behind, but she never looked back.  Then, when her idealism brought her to America, she again left everything and everyone she knew behind.  She never expressed any regret, and accepted her difficulties without any negativity.  This is the greatest lesson she taught me, to always forge ahead, with a smile in your heart, and never look back.

There were times when she guided me through my own difficulties.  She would always tell me not to be so emotional, and to focus on what needs to be done.  She would remind me to see the positive in every situation, and to count my blessings.

In recent years, I noticed a hint of questions in her eyes and voice.  But she never let those questions out, and they never affected her actions or her belief.  In her silence, she answered some of my questions. She taught me that you can believe, and you can love, and you can be certain, even while you have unanswered questions.

I wish she was here right now.  She would tell me to stop being so emotional.  And to count my blessings.

Magical Rocks

There are rocks everywhere.  And I don’t just mean all over my house, I mean everywhere.  And did you know that they are magical?  Well, not all rocks are magical, and I am still learning how to determine just how magical a rock is, if at all.  It has something to do with the texture (it should be smooth,) the color (it has to be a cool color,) and the general excitement or lack thereof when spotting it.  

My three year old son is my teacher in these matters.  He is a true expert in magical rocks.  He has an impressive collection of rocks on his dresser, and scattered throughout the house.  There is one in particular that has magical powers only activated in a steamy room, so he keeps it on the bathroom sink.  I dare not move any of the strategically placed rocks, because I am no expert, and I wouldn’t risk ruining any rocks.

One thing that I did notice with my non-expert eye is that the most magical of all rocks are the ones that go on my son’s dresser.  (I am not sure what specific powers the rocks have, and when I asked, I got a loud sigh in response, followed by, “They’re just magical, they have magic powers, it’s magic.  Okay mommy?”)

It took me a while figure this out, but the ones that make it to his dresser are all metamorphic rocks.  Rocks that are two toned, or a combination of two completely different rocks fused together, are the most special and get displayed on his dresser.  I decided that I would turn this into an educational moment, and I pointed out to him that all the rocks on his dresser are not in their original state and have been changed over time.  I explained the three different ways rocks can form, and that he seemed to like the metamorphic rocks the best.  He told me (in a very exasperated why-doesn’t-mommy-understand-rocks voice) that if you have two colors on one rock, it’s REAL magical.  That’s why they have two colors, not because of the impact of pressure and time.  It’s because of their magic.  Well, I guess I am being educated as well.

There is one particular grocery store parking lot where my son loves to find rocks.  We always come home with at least one pocket full of magical rocks when we shop there.   I went there today, without my son, and what I thought would be a really quick grocery run ended up being a real self-discovery  moment for me.  I realized that I cracked the cold to magical rock identification!  As soon as I stepped out of the car, I noticed the most magical, two toned rock lying just a few feet from my car.  I put it in my pocket since my son’s pocket was at home with him, and I shopped even faster than usual, eager to get home and show my son my find and let him share in my excitement.  He was really proud of me.  He stood up really tall, his cheeks turned a bit pink, and he said in a breathless voice, “Wow, Mommy, that rock is really magical!”  I’m thinking of keeping this one on MY dresser.

Pesach Cleaning and Things I'd Rather Do

Pesach (Passover) comes every year, without fail, and this year is  no exception.  And along with Pesach comes a month's worth of spring cleaning in preparation for the holiday.  So now, with a little more than two weeks to go, I realized time is running out, and it is time to more actively procrastinate. 

It started with the thought of which room to clean first.  Then the thought of perhaps looking through the boxes of Pesach dishes and utensils to determine what needs fixing, cleaning, or buying brand new.  Then came the thought that maybe it would be smart to order handmade matzah now.  These thoughts of different tasks to be completed seemed incredibly overwhelming, but I realized that I have to start with something.  So rather than doing nothing, I decided to get back into writing, starting with this blog post.  Because the first step to being productive is to procrastinate more efficiently.

Sure, the toys need to be cleaned and organized, but I'd rather first make that Costco trip I've been putting off for a while now.  I know that I have to deep clean both kids rooms, but I'd rather first catch up on my writing.  The kitchen should be started by now, especially if I plan on going through every single cabinet by Pesach, but I'd rather first practice reading with my daughter.  It would be a great idea to organize all the Pesach recipes that i have scattered though different cookbooks, but first I'd rather spend a bit of extra time with my son in math.

I have realized that over the years, I accomplish a lot in the weeks leading up to Pesach.  And by a lot I mean besides for anything that has to do with cleaning.  Because doing something to prevent me from doing a dreaded task is all the motivation I need to get things done.  Now if only I could find a task I dread more than Pesach cleaning, and I could put that off by first taking care of the cleaning...