Scratch that, definitely not.

I figure, why start now. So much has happened this year. So much change. A culmination of successes and failures of good times and sad times. I don’t want to do it again by any means. However, there is a certain sense of accomplishment that we made it!

And so without further ado. My top ten favorite moments of 2010 in no particular order.

Watching Ronin learn to surf was so much fun.

My future engineer at the Hawaii state science fair.

Hiking Paiko lagoon with Rhiannon for a bird watching assignment. If you are ever on Oahu, I highly recommend meeting up with member of the Audobon Society.

My amazing running partner Kellie, Rhiannon, and I at the Epilepsy run. Lesson learned for the day? What happens on a run, stays on the run.

Girl’s night out with my little sister. Sometimes, a margarita can solve all of your problems.

Coaching the long distance team for the Pearl Harbor Tsunamis. I loved every minute of it.

Hiking into the Waimano Valley. Ronin always finds special sitting places.

Walks in the morning sunshine.

Yes, brain cancer sucks… big time. But take time to laugh and be silly, even in the unlikeliest of places.

Moments of quiet contemplation.

Here’s to another year of living and laughing.

Not that I was sad to begin with, but surely Mr. Bliss had an excellent point. Today red signifies passion, courage, and power. If I can pass to my children a passion for leaning today, then surely all is well. While most people equate passion with the highest of the high and adrenaline filled moments, I find that I am the most passionate about life in moments of simplicity. The best days for me are filled with simple moments of pleasure gleaned here and there. It is the small seemingly insignificant moments that build to a day well lived. A day spent supremely in the moment and fully present, appreciating beauty found in surprising spots. 

Upon opening the curtain we found that the Amaryllis is in full bloom.

The poinsettias are hanging on and looking quite lovely too.

Quietly sipping coffee and studying for my seed science and technology class. If I can just hold onto megametogenesis, I might be okay. Scratch that, I will be okay no matter what.

Math with Ronin in the wee hours of the morning; exploring numbers and letting him find his own way.

Errands with the family. The kinds that are fun, like bookstores, libraries, vegan pizza shops, and movies.

And finally, this song. Oh how I love it right now.

Happy Friday everyone.

As a homeschooling parent we actively invest in our children’s education daily. A girlfriend once described it as a facilitation of learning. I love that description and it has always stuck with me. Each family picks what means the most to them albeit an educational style, subject, or sensory specific way to learn. We do this as parents because we care. We strive very hard to make subjects fun, relevant, and doable.Math and science are the two topics in our house. It took eight years of positive discussion, lively debate, and many hours pouring over books, textbooks, and activities to really drive home the point that mathematics is not hard.

It took precisely one year, coupled with a very pessimistic and bitter math teacher to destroy her numerical self esteem. Our once fun topic has turned into anxiety and frustration. Throw in a little lot of negative self talk. So much negativity that I start to feel anxiety when she brings up study time. (Who wants to facilitate that learning experience?) As much as I want to back away and give it a rest (we even bought a textbook one grade below in an attempt to just review) she wants to plunge forward. I’m honestly perplexed how to handle this as a parent. My relaxed side says put it away. Breathe. She will rebound eventually. Her driven “must graduate in three years” side battles with me daily. Caught in a vicious cycle anyone?

Just when I thought I had read everything about math anxiety, I found this article. It is not so much that author presents a ton of new information. It is more how he presents the topic. I particularly enjoyed the section on how he interacts with art students to help them take possession of their feelings. Writing, discussing, bringing attention to the problem. This is an exercise that we will surely do.

Does your child ever suffer from math anxiety? If so, what do you do?

Today’s herb, the very lovely peppermint.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful Greek nymph name Minthe. She was much adored by Pluto, perhaps a little too much because Pluto’s adoration really upset his wife Prosperine. She was so upset in fact, that she changed the nymph into a small mint plant. No matter how hard he tried, Pluto could simply not break the spell. In the end, the only thing that he could give Minthe was a lovely smell every time someone stepped upon or crushed her leaves.

That is how mint came to be. It’s scientific name is Mentha Piperita. It is a perennial plant whose flowers and leaves are edible. The leaves can flavor food and be made into a tea that soothes the stomach. In an aromatherapy sense, peppermint improves clarity, mental alertness, and is energizing. In ointments and diffusions it can help breathing, soothe tired muscles and itchy skin , and act as a disinfectant.  It also repels insects.

Air is the element that rules mint and it is masculine herb.

The plant reproduces asexually and has a creeping stem system called rhizomes. This means that when you plant mint it should always be in pots. When the rhizome is cut it forms a new plantlet. You can imagine that this could get out of control if someone is constantly trying to weed the plant out of the ground. We once had an entire garden of chocolate mint. It smelled delicious, but just about pushed everything else out!

Both kids truly enjoyed today’s lesson. I love that Rhiannon has already connected the organic aspects of plant placement in two lessons. She noted that both lavender and peppermint were good choices because one drew in beneficials and the other repelled pests. Ronin is completely enamored with root systems and simply wanting to watch things grow. Two huge thumbs up.

Photo courtesy of Ohio Honey Company

Quite frankly, I thought that perhaps writing here was over. Truthfully, I thought many things were over, maybe even homeschooling too. Could I keep pace with what the children needed and wanted? Could I meet M’s growing list of therapeutic and medical appointments? Could I continue to go to school myself to ensure that we were financially stable?

How could I balance it all?

Was that even a logical possibility?

Add to that cauldron, a constant onslaught of criticism from outside sources. (Why is it that the ignorant and unknowing also have the loudest voices?) Mixed together was a bubbling and boiling brew of unhelpful feelings. I was left feeling drained and unsure of myself.

But as a kind friend pointed out one day at a truly low moment, “where there is gravity, there is also levity. Wait for it … Breathe…” And so I did.

Until one day I woke and realized that the “kick ass get through mentality” that I had adopted on the surface was gone. To be honest, I felt naked and vulnerable. Where was the woman that I could identify with? (Hopefully, she is on a sunny island somewhere enjoying the sunshine and sipping drinks with paper umbrellas. Someday I will thank her.)

With my new found nakedness, I realized that I had made a mistake. In my haste to make sure that everyone did well with the move and that schedules and lives didn’t change too much, I overlooked a key component. My own sanctuary.

Sanctuary is shelter from the storm, whether that storm is elemental or emotional. It is a place of sacred consecration for quiet thoughtfulness. To breathe, to pray, or to simply be oneself. It is a place of complete freedom to be who you are. I would argue that every homeschooling parent needs one. (I would argue further that everyone needs one.)

Mine has always been my bedroom. Yet, it was overlooked and ignored in the hubbub of life, much like this blog. I would walk in at night, after a long day and piles of paper work and boxes would greet me. It literally drained my energy. There was no place for me to simply go and be me. No place to center for the day ahead.

Saturday I went to work. Locking myself away from distraction and people, I sorted the papers and boxes. I discarded the belongings that we no longer needed or had room for. This place, this space, needed to be open and airy. Holding both rays of sunshine and allow for moonlight to hit my pillow as I drift off to sleep. A place of reading and study. A place to nap and reflect. A complete and absolute reflection of me.

I learned that in sorting through things, it is not always easy to let go. When you do though, a weight is lifted off the shoulders. Objects possess both positive and negative energy from our life. It was amazing for me to discover that something once loved and treasured now weighs us down with past memories.

And do you know what? I can breathe. I feel grounded and centered and ready for the day. What a great blessing it is to find sacred space. To remember that we need a sanctuary from everything.

What place do you go to for sanctuary?

~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Really though, let’s discuss.

First let’s define socialization. According to the great Mr. Webster the word “socialize” is defined as, “to make social; especially : to fit or train for a social environment.” Why would you infer that my child isn’t socialized? Is it because you only deem acceptable socialization to fall within the confines of interacting with people your own age and zoned into the area where you live? Do I really need to point out that you, the questioner, socialize with all different age groups everyday? That you are not restricted to only speak with people of your own age, but a countless array of people of many ethnicities, ages, and races. Nor are you, the questioner, suppressed in your responses to people so that they fall within certain guidelines and limitations. You are allowed to express your own opinions, in your own words, because of First Amendment rights. In what place are children not allowed that kind of freedom to socialize? It’s certainly not my homeschool.

Second, upon hearing that we homeschooled did a switch flip in your head that erased all previous conversations that we just had? Conversation that involved me saying that I was tired because we were headed to art class from volunteering and tomorrow we had A, B, and C. Maybe the problem isn’t that you are worried about my child socially, maybe it’s an inner reflection that you, the questioner, aren’t very good at listening.

Third, and in my opinion, most importantly. Why don’t you ever look at a child who attends public or private school and ask about their socialization habits? I’ve got news for people the social hierarchy that exists in the public school is not normal. No where else in life will you see this incredible fishbowl effect that separates children into unhealthy divisions like a school atmosphere does.

One more thing, since the questioner may think that I am uneducated in the public and private school system’s “art” of socialization. Rhiannon has been to school. Last year she decided that school would be her escape while M went through all the surgeries and radiation. Everyday she came home telling me about children who cut themselves openly on school grounds, had sex in the bathroom, cheated off her papers, sold drugs in front of “security guards,” and was central to just about every racist comment that a monocultural community can aim at a mainland Caucasian kid. This doesn’t even include what the teachers themselves said, most involving curse words and derogatory statements. (I really liked all the comments that they made about her not being as smart as the other children. That was fun.) But my unsocialized homeschooled child made it through the year by joining clubs, working hard, eventually making one or two really good friends. Just about the same that she had as a homeschooler. Oh yes, and at the end of the year we opened the letter that gave her grades and class rank, only to find that she was #1 in her class. The letter also requested her help as an upper classmen to lead other children coming into the school. Nice…

Needless to say, she’s back to the unsocialized life we lead. In fact right now, I have to pick her up from sailing where she’s definitely not speaking to anyone while she acts as skipper and leads a crew out onto open water.

I do declare, whatever will become of us poor unsocialized homeschoolers?

Really?

Because I came to plan a field trip for Bob jr. not discuss what gets your knickers in a bunch on the nightly news.

There it is. The thing that mimics nails on a chalkboard during a conversation. You homeschool therefore you feel the same way that I do politically. (Alternatively, you homeschool therefore you must be very very conservative.) I wish that someone would just once deliver this line of reasoning in front of one of my sisters. (Though preferably not while we are eating or drinking because they might choke to death.)  Mass assumptions make me a little crazy. Yes, I understand there are stereotypes and to an extent stereotypes are true. (If they weren’t there wouldn’t be stereotypes.) I just wish that someone would, on certain occasions, opt for originality. Ask me when the aliens are coming to take me home? That one at the very least would make me laugh.

My point exactly? Truthfully, it’s 4AM and we are out of coffee, I may not have a strong point. In a nutshell, I won’t assume that in conversation you are an HSLDA loving, Bush supporting, anti gay fanatic if you don’t assume that I am one as well. Instead, I might opt to speak to you and get to know “you” first and then maybe somewhere in the distant future have a political discussion. Though, I wouldn’t hold my breath. I seldom debate politics because I find them to be a personal issue. Instead, we can chat about homeschool law or how current legislation might change our rights to teach our children in freedom. Even debate the pros and cons of standardized testing and alternatives, that would be nice too. That one is often overlooked at meetings.

Let’s use meetings and get togethers as a forum to support homeschooling itself, the reason we all came together. Remember that? Remember that education of the child is what drove you to question the necessity of homeschooling in the first place. If I wanted a political discussion I would go to a political meeting. As for issues that I find important, they are usually private and held close to the chest. I don’t feel the need to share them or debate them, just simply stand up when the occasion calls and vote how I feel. Don’t be surprised if I get a far off look in my eye when the conversation starts. It’s not that I’m dreaming of a better world that holds all the ideas that you speak of. I’m mentally doing my grocery shopping list.

What?

Everybody has to eat.

After months of throwing around ideas we ultimately decided to go home. The decision was not an easy one. I’m not sure if I ever have felt a sense of place, a connection to the land. “Strong ties that keep pulling me back inexplicably,” these are the words that people use to describe hometowns. Until last week while driving down the Kamehameha highway, I had never even thought of Virginia in that way. Sure I have great memories and yes, that is where the story of Mike and I began, but still… no pull. No pull, until I was sitting at a traffic light and more than anything I just wanted to scoop everyone up and transport us back to the East Coast, Harry Potter style.

We once considered going back as a sign of defeat, of giving up. We now see it as a solace from the storm. A storm that doesn’t seem to be ending any time soon. When we start getting to the nitty gritty of the situation the mental clutter started to fall away. When we went back to the original four matters of importance, things were easier to embrace. (Must homeschool, must finish my own education, must run (for sanity) and must keep the family together.) When we separated the symptoms from the problems, choices became simple too. I get tired of feeling like we accept. I like the idea of choosing much better.

Is that sunshine that I see peeking out at us?

I think it might be.

It’s nice to feel excited again. It’s nice to feel a small bit of passion creeping back in. It’s nice to feel motivated. It’s nice to know that just around the corner there is a rest station on this small path that we call life.

We watched the rising sun cast our shadows on the pavement.

And shine through the leaves on the trees.

Of course we had to walk down to the ghost ships. Whether or not that’s the right name, I am quite uncertain. It works for us and adds an element of spookiness that Ronin loves.

We threw rocks into the water and watched for the occasional minnow to pass by. Mostly we just gazed into the water and talked about the most important nothings imaginable.

On the way home we found a slug on the pavement warming itself and feeling the breeze.

I suppose he was enjoying himself as much as we were.