Daybook: Vacation

I am hearing: the dishwasher, the washing machine, and children giggling as they watch some  cartoon in the other room.  I check in periodically, just to make sure they’re all still breathing and that they didn’t find something completely terrible to watch, but mostly I’m letting them be. A lot.

Grateful: for a run this morning (not up a mesa), that Sam is getting some him-time this morning, Brisa’s baby, blooming cactus, Jordan’s amazing response in welcoming refugees from both Iraq and Syria (not to mention years of Palestinians), Mandy’s mile the other day (and one to come), my mom, our church.

Thinking about: Galatians.  ”Refugee fatigue.”  (Apparently this is not the fatigue of the actual refugees, living displaced lives with bad water, danger and cardboard shelters.  Refugee fatigue is instead what happens to  those not-displaced-peoples who are sick of hearing about it.)

What I’m reading: Brighty of the Grand Canyon (aloud, to the children), A Red Herring Without Mustard, Mrs. Hunter’s Happy Death (almost finished), Arabella.  How’s that for a mix of titles?

Out my window:
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On the needles: SweetP’s green Tea Leaves sweater came off (and she has worn it every day without being blocked) and my Mother’s Surfer Tee went on. I am in that stage of fear that it will never fit, and that despite my gauge (done in 3 different needle sizes) it’s going to be terribly small. Of course, that’s how I end up with everything 3 sizes too big. But that’s where I am. The yarn is Knit Pick’s City Tweed DK, which is delicious in my hands.

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Praying for: our house to sell, Lala’s family, Mandy, refugees from Syria and Burma and those who minister to them, Jen & family, Becky and Justine.

Sedona Run

I took an awesome run the other morning.

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I headed toward town from the condo and turned up toward the airport, not realizing that this was the red stripe cut diagonally from town to the top of the plateau. Once I figured out what I was in for, it was only one mile further to the scenic overlook, and I was determined.
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The road was narrow, and probably I shouldn’t have been running on it. There was a notice to bikers to stay with traffic, so I figured that drivers were accustomed to passing with care. I still stepped off when a car came by and got several friendly waves (and no fingers) in response. That steep mile—interrupted as it was—took me 14 minutes, but I made it and felt appropriately sweaty and triumphant at the top as I took photos alongside well-coifed tourists who had arrived in their air-conditioned cars.

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The view on the way down was even better, and my time would have been significantly better if I didn’t keep stopping to take photos. Today my obliques are killing me, but in a good way.

The best part may have been Sam’s look when I pointed out the road, and his incredulous, “That was where you ran?”

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this moment

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
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this moment

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

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Daybook, April

Outside my window: It’s a Tuesday in April.  Therefore it must be snowing.  I love snow, and even I’m over it.  Of course this is also the day we have a donation arranged, so we have all sorts of things we had to sneak out of the children’s rooms disguised as laundry that we’re giving away.  One of them caught us this morning moving it out into the alley.  Child:  “You can’t give that away!  I LOVE that!”    Parent: “When was the last time you played with that?”  Child: “Um…”

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In the kitchen: last week, non-local strawberries were in season and cheaper(er) than usual.  Sam brough home a bunch, and I made jam.  So now we need some bread to go under it.

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Month-at-a-time menu planning is still happening, though the once-a-fortnight shopping has stopped.  I can’t fit it all in the cart, it takes too long, and I find the size of the bill depressing.  And I didn’t really save any money.  So once-a-week it is.

In the school room: ITBS testing this week.  After all my grand pronouncements yesterday, we started.  On the third section, one of my children asked to take a bathroom break.  It was only a 12 minute section.  She didn’t dally, but 12 minutes doesn’t give you a lot of leeway.  She came back and was perseverating on each question.  “Well, I know really has two l’s, so maybe real should too?  Hmm?”  All I could really say to her was, “Please don’t talk out loud.”  The timer went off, she had six left to do, and I told her she had to close her book and put her pencil down.  Tears, weeping, gnashing of teeth(hers, not mine).  I’m hoping she takes bathroom breaks between sessions today.

Grateful: for my church.  And for the Church.  A good, long run (the first in almost 2 months).  For Mandy, who inspired me this week to make some small changes in my life.  For healthy babies and Centering Pregnancy– one of my groups this week was just like a party.  A loud, hilarious party.  In Spanish.  That I got to go to.  I was so honored to be there.

And [trumpets, fanfare] I just got an email from a midwife who helped coordinate last fall’s training we did in Thailand.  She attended a difficult delivery in the jungle and saved the life of the young mother. (Truly, not just “Well, anybody would have done the same.“  No, there was no one else.  God used her to save that mother.)  The baby looked bad, and she and one of the medics we trained were able to resuscitate the baby using the skills and equipment we shared with them.  Mom and baby walked out together, healthy.  Praise God!  Thank you so much to those who supported that trip.  It is now officially All Worth It.
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Side note that is truly irrelevant: I made that skirt in 1984.  8th grade.  It is my most-traveled piece of clothing.

Praying for: Mandy, Lynn, Jen and her family.  For hope despite chronic pain and suffering. For Lala & her family.  For the homeless, who must dread the snow even more than I do today.  Discernment: to use our resources and gifts wisely, and to make the most of every day, especially here at home where the “daily” can easily feel mundane.  Friends who are moving to Thailand this week: for safe travel, jobs, friends, a church.

Standardized Testing: A Few Thoughts Written with a #2 Pencil

As a child, I simultaneously looked forward to and dreaded standardized test.  I loved the change in the routine– that there would be snatches of time in the day (at the end of each testing period) to read a book.  I liked the challenge: seeing how many I could get right.  I liked objective getting feedback.  But I hated the agony of the instructions.  Do you remember them?  How every year, teacher after teacher had to read us the same paragraph explaining how this was a test, and every answer had to fill the bubble completely, and now you can fill in the bubbles corresponding to your name… make sure that the bubble is filled completely…

Colorado state law requires homeschoolers to be tested every odd year beginning in 3rd grade on a nationally standardized test, such as the ITBS or CAT.  Of course the CSAP, the test given to students in Colorado schools, is not nationally standardized and so doesn’t satisfy the requirement for homeschoolers.

Anyway, this week we are doing ITBS testing.  In one of our homeschool “schools” testing was offered there.  Last year we did the CAT test at home because the ITBS wasn’t available to administer at home if you weren’t a certified teacher.  (I’m not.)  But this year the testing service we use allowed me to purchase the ITBS Complete Battery.  So we’re doing that.
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Bacon popcorn, recipe from Amanda Blake Soule found here.  I’ll be making a lot of it this week.

There is a lot of debate out there over standardized testing.  I don’t want to rehash it all (though feel free to weigh in in the comments) but I think it has a place in our home education.  Why?

1) Taking tests is a life skill.

I have taken the SAT, ACT, and MCAT.  The driver’s license test.  The USMLE, parts 1-3.  My medical boards.  Testing doesn’t seem to be ending for me any time soon.  Taking these tests gives my children practice with the skill of taking a test.

2) Testing in the past has been an accurate measurement of parts of our home education.

There is much we do in our homeschool life that is not measured in any way on the test (e.g., listening to classical music, reciting poetry, playing piano, creative writing).  But the tests in the past have described my children well.  Vocabulary? Good!  Capitalization?  Bad.  Understanding of advanced math concepts?  Good!  Simple math calculation?  Not good.   After I get over the initial shock of seeing my child “on paper” as it were, I am able to hone our curriculum to fill gaps (if I feel that the gaps are important.)

3) The tests are biased and imperfect, like life.

Our family is very privileged and has many advantages, but we still are completely flummoxed by parts of the test.  One year, the test asked which magazine one would use to research some sports star they had never heard of, and one of my kids got upset.  Later, we were able to talk about how tests will always have questions we known about and to strategize how to narrow the options.

One of my children tends to get frustrated when expectations aren’t clear.  Welcome to the real world.  Life in our little homeschool is pretty good.  As  I have only four students, I have the opportunity to maximize their understanding of the directions.  I can tailor assignments to their levels and learning styles.  Consequently, they haven’t had the “learning opportunity” to have a teacher with whom they get off on the wrong foot and have to figure out how to make it work anyway.  They haven’t had to struggle through a math class that is taught entirely to a learning style other than the one that works for them.  Testing gives me a chance to expose their edges– their weaknesses– in a way we don’t do normally.  And I think doing so makes them stronger students.

4) Testing shows me where the children are “performing” compared to others in their grade.

From day one, poor O (my second child) has compared his performance to his older brother’s.  As they are 32 months apart in age, you can see why this is ridiculous.  As a second child, I did the same with my own big brother.  In a few ways, it spurred me on.  (Side note: we both eagerly awaited my SAT scores to see who did better after all.  He did better in math; I did better in English– but 2 years apart, we achieved the same total score.)  But when O went to kindergarten one day a week and saw that he wasn’t behind the other children it was an incredible aha! moment for him.  I could tell him till I was blue in the face that I’m not comparing them, but he was comparing himself to J.

His first test let me compare him to third graders around the country.  It helped him, I think, so see that he was right where he should be.
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There will also be a lot of play dough for SweetP, who does not yet have to test.  But I did make her a bubble-page to fill in just in case she wants a piece of the action.

The beauty of standardized testing for home scholars is that their parents get to set the stage for how the children interpret the tests.  No administrator is using the test as a measure of my success, and threatening my job if my children don’t do well.  No teacher is telling my children over and over how important these tests are.  No parent is telling my children they’d better do well, or else.

I know that since No Child Left Behind, testing has changed how schools educate.  No test is the ultimate judge of our education.

We don’t emphasize it.  We don’t study for it (except that, I confess, we did review capitalization and punctuation rules for 5 minutes a day for the past 2 weeks).  We don’t sit at the table with the children to analyze their results.  (Sam and I do that privately, and then we given them minimal feedback based on their interest in it.)  My hope is that standardized testing remains present in our school year, but as a hiccup.  A brief, necessary interruption, to build a skill that will be useful to them in the future.

Daybook, mid-April 2013

Out my window: a storm is coming.  But since we cleaned the windows (yes, that makes the storm my fault) I can see it really well.  Two weeks ago, right after we  washed the windows, we had a very cold snap, complete with 16 degree days and 10 degree nights, and all my roses bushes that had been showing new leaves froze.  But I’m going to pretend it’s spring anyway and fill this post with pictures of flowers from my garden over the past few years.  It’s coming, really.  I believe.
First: dead broccoli.

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Next: tulips that will be up soon if I have to open them myself.

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In the kitchen: oatmeal bread.  Yum.  I should maybe find something to go with that.  Maybe some winter (non-local) fruit salad?  (This one is from last week.)

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Around the house: Spring Cleaning.  We started with the windows.  This weekend Sam started to touch up the paint.  I scrubbed old sticky stuff off the kitchen cabinets.  The children are cleaning out the basement and finding toys to give away.

Our plum tree in full bloom last spring:

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What I’m hearing: Pandora.

On my mind: lots of planning questions.  How are we going to do 8th grade option for J?  How on earth am I going to survive taking 4 children to the DMV to get him a photo ID so he can take the state community college placement exam?  Should I switch my work day?  How can I get our whole family back into service?  (It’s been 2 years since we stopped cleaning the food pantry, and we haven’t found another ministry that is willing to take us all.)

I feel led to coordinate a class on death and dying for our church.  We have some really wise people with experience in this area and a lot to offer.  But it’s also a hot-button topic for a lot of people.  Anyway, I’m mulling it through.  Also, we need more nursery availability during church, and I’m not sure how best to provide that.

And (this one is so cool!) one of the youth at our church approached me yesterday to ask if I would help him coordinate a 30-hour Famine for the youth.  I had been on World Vision’s site recently and thought I wanted to do that exact thing, but it seemed a little weird for me to impose a fast on the youth.  So I didn’t mention it to anyone.  And then Mikey came and asked me if I would help him.

Bleeding heart:

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Praying for: Lala’s family: for comfort and safety.  My friend Jerusha.  Mandy.  Transition in Burma.  Bravery.  Our church’s youth.

What I’m reading: John Fanestil’s Mrs. Hunter’s Happy DeathMissee Lee (#6 in the Arthur Ransome’s Swallows and Amazons series).  Regency Buck by Georgette Heyer.

Grateful for: Sam. Renee.  A wonderful Friday with my friend Ruth.  Mercy.

Here are the boys playing a game with Ruth’s sons:
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I hope you are counting your blessings today and seeing signs of spring!

Asking for Help

Sometimes I have a hard time asking for help.  Okay, maybe not just sometimes.  Recently I’ve needed more help with teaching high school math, and while I’ve accessed some cool online resources (i.e., Khan Academy and Math Why U) I recently had to find an actual mathematician.
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But God is so good.  My friend’s nephew just happened to move to town to teach math at the university, and he was happy to help.  (See, this is why I should ask more often.)

We were stuck on trigonometry, specifically cords and segments within circles.  My vision was to give him the chapter and have him sit down for a few hours with J to go over the problems.  He went over the problems and was able to help me see that J actually does understand the material.  So rather than going over it all again, we talked about a plan for where to go next after Trig.

Obviously, I am glad to know J understands the math, but I was actually looking forward to his working with a different teacher.  At some point, we all have to figure out how to understand someone else’s expectations and how to meet them.  This is a life skill my kids haven’t had  much chance to learn.  (Piano lessons, yes.  Once a week homeschool “school”, yes.  Volleyball practice, yes.)  But higher stakes, to prepare them for jobs with difficult bosses? Not so much.  Of course, I am a difficult boss, but my children haven’t had much to compare me to, so they don’t know that yet.

Where do you look for extra help?  How are you preparing your children for working for a difficult boss?

Come Walk with Us

It was so fun having you run with me, I thought you might like to join us on our nature walk.  You’ll want a sweatshirt and some sunblock.
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We’ve had such a drought this winter (well, all year, really) that the lake is very dry.  Normally all this red is under water.

Clearly we’re not the only ones who can’t keep from walking out toward the water– there’s quite a path here.

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The boys were deep in conversation and didn’t want to wait on the girls, so they’ve gone ahead.  If you listen, you can hear the geese out at the edge of the water.
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The boys come running back to tell us there are deer.  Can you see her there, pretending to be invisible?

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Just ahead of the kids, after the boardwalk turns the corner, is the tree where the great barn owl likes to roost.
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Did you see that?  The kids must have scared the owl, because it just took off over our heads.  All the geese startled and made a crazy noise until they decided it was a false alarm.

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This is my favorite bit of the walk: it’s like a tunnel of cottonwoods.  The fragrance is incredible.  SweetP likes to collect bouquets of leaves here.
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Oh– the deer are back, trying to sneak back into the clearing we frightened them out of on our way down the far side of the boardwalk.

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Total, I count nine.  The boys say they saw a buck but I missed him.

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Not bad for a twenty-minute walk.  Thanks for joining us.

What’s your favorite nearby walk?

The Great Backyard Bird Count

Just a reminder to put the Great Backyard Bird Count on your calendars for Feburary 15-18, 2013.
It’s a fantastic opportunity to participate in Citizen Science (more on that here).

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Just hoping he’ll drop by…

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