The goal of my homeschooling is preparedness, not perfection. In other words, I teach to create individuals and shape them so they can in turn create and shape and think and apply...not just pass a test. Perfection is for a test. Perfection is for life.
As I have been going through and recording videos, it has been a refreshing "go back to basics" process: the why of what I do. I think this important because we can see false examples of perfection around us (like many people who will read this blog not smelling the poopy diaper of a long-overdue diaper change standing next to me nor see the pile of unfolded--clean!--laundry tickling my "perfection" part of my brain. Okay, not tickling. Nagging. Real life stuff.)
But what is beautiful about what I do at home is that my method is about concepts and principles. As I seek to improve myself, inevitably I am shown something that I can share with my children along the way. Invariably my own hopes and dreams are tied up in their success. My path of learning includes organizational skills, self-management (temper!), nutrition and fitness, historical context to the modern mess my children are going to inherit, expanding my own compassion by reading beautiful classics and poems and applying what I watch in movies to myself for the better or worse. I am seeking to draw closer to God, become one with Him. I am seeking to serve as He would, both in my home and in the community and follow as He leads.
And I share what I am doing with my kids.
And the laundry and bathrooms and the cooking get done eventually. Okay. I try for once a day, but sometimes the call to write, to share, to snuggle, to change that incredibly odiferous horrible diaper is just stronger. (And no, I don't iron. The ironing board is simply a place to hang clothes. Poor Quinn. Thank goodness for the "wrinkle prevention" setting!)
And sometimes you have to just recognize that the learning for the day will all have to be through life and application and not much "bookish stuff"...like last week when I spent two days helping my oldest prepare for her mission and the others learned how to clean and maintain a home and care for younger siblings for hours on end.
Sometimes, that's what it is.
Because you know something? It has never been about the public school contrived image of "perfection": that 100% on a test or that "A". What does that success stand for? Really think about that. Now think about one of the most capable people you know. Are they the text-book example of "perfect"? No, chances are, they are prepared...even if it is just moments before. And chances are, they are just following their gut and trying to find a little joy in the journey while they do it. Maybe I am shooting for perfection, just a different look at perfection.
I like the following poem--this is my kind of perfection:
As I have been going through and recording videos, it has been a refreshing "go back to basics" process: the why of what I do. I think this important because we can see false examples of perfection around us (like many people who will read this blog not smelling the poopy diaper of a long-overdue diaper change standing next to me nor see the pile of unfolded--clean!--laundry tickling my "perfection" part of my brain. Okay, not tickling. Nagging. Real life stuff.)But what is beautiful about what I do at home is that my method is about concepts and principles. As I seek to improve myself, inevitably I am shown something that I can share with my children along the way. Invariably my own hopes and dreams are tied up in their success. My path of learning includes organizational skills, self-management (temper!), nutrition and fitness, historical context to the modern mess my children are going to inherit, expanding my own compassion by reading beautiful classics and poems and applying what I watch in movies to myself for the better or worse. I am seeking to draw closer to God, become one with Him. I am seeking to serve as He would, both in my home and in the community and follow as He leads.
And I share what I am doing with my kids.
And the laundry and bathrooms and the cooking get done eventually. Okay. I try for once a day, but sometimes the call to write, to share, to snuggle, to change that incredibly odiferous horrible diaper is just stronger. (And no, I don't iron. The ironing board is simply a place to hang clothes. Poor Quinn. Thank goodness for the "wrinkle prevention" setting!)
And sometimes you have to just recognize that the learning for the day will all have to be through life and application and not much "bookish stuff"...like last week when I spent two days helping my oldest prepare for her mission and the others learned how to clean and maintain a home and care for younger siblings for hours on end.
Sometimes, that's what it is.
Because you know something? It has never been about the public school contrived image of "perfection": that 100% on a test or that "A". What does that success stand for? Really think about that. Now think about one of the most capable people you know. Are they the text-book example of "perfect"? No, chances are, they are prepared...even if it is just moments before. And chances are, they are just following their gut and trying to find a little joy in the journey while they do it. Maybe I am shooting for perfection, just a different look at perfection.
I like the following poem--this is my kind of perfection:
“I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails.
I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp.
I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children.
I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone's garden.
I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder.
I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.”--Marjorie Hinckley
What do you really want for your kids? Stop looking around and look within. God's idea is more along the lines of Joan of Arc or Mark Twain, not the most recent valedictorian, bless their hoop-jumping heart. What works for some doesn't work for others and chances are, if you are even reading this blog, it is because you recognize that deep down your child is different from that valedictorian and you are seeking some validation.
So go and get that validation where it counts. Brainstorm the blank page. Write down at least one thing per child. Then do it.
You will be amazed.
They will be prepared.
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