Hey, spell check. Unschooling is too a word. So stop underlining my shit in red. Get with it.
First of all, let me just say as an update on ovulation station, that my fertility tracking is going pretty successfully. Translation? We haven’t made any more babies yet, so….I must be doing something right. Right? Or maybe I’ve just been lucky up to this point. Who knows? The one snafu with the whole system, though, is that I inevitably forget my head (or the hormones highjack my brain) and start to want another baby really badly right around the time of ovulation. Also, as one would expect, I guess, would you know that the time that I’m most in the mood would be right at the perfect time for conception as well? Go figure. Mother nature….you got this thing figured out pretty well, eh? Go you. Those two major issues aside, though, and it’s a piece of cake.
Oh yeah, that and the fact that my fertile window (time when it is possible for me to conceive based off of my longest and shortest cycle) is basically like two weeks long. So half the month. Cool beans.
Oh yeah, also, the hormone shifts during the days leading up to menstruation really closely mimic the symptoms of early pregnancy (did not know that before I became so in tune with my cycle) so every month, I spend a few days convinced that I’m pregnant. So that’s a fun roller coaster ride of emotion. Ah! Womanhood. It’s so fun to be a life-bearer! Not. (Just joking. It really is and I actually feel totally honored with this ancient vital and sacred role. But, you know. Sometimes it’s tough. Greg’s vasectomy is looking like a better option all the time).
OK. What I really wanted to write about is our unschooling. It’s going great also! Except it’s confusing as hell and I have no idea what I’m even doing. So, I’m probably on the right track.
(Wow, I’ve got this whole life thing pretty well figured out. Yup, better just give myself a great big ole pat on the back. Nice work, me. Way to be winning).
Wow, I’m in a sarcastic mood today. I guess that’s my passive aggressive way of venting. But hey! Just because I’m clueless doesn’t mean I should give up. On the contrary. I see my stumbling around blindly, feeling desperate as a good sign (really, I do). In my experience, floating around directionless is a very difficult yet vital step to any path worth walking. The alternative is to go with the flow (a.k.a.the road most taken or swim or even just float downstream) or just immediately commit to and cling on to one ideal before really considering all or at least more options in the name of “having it all figured out”. Having shit figured out is, in my opinion, way overrated in our culture. Hey guys, what’s wrong with not having shit figured out some (or all) the time? (I know the answer to this. Because not having shit figured out is scary!) But listen. Even though we’re taught from an early age in this country that being scared is unacceptable and we are encouraged to instead form all kinds of insurmountable walls of defense (against each other (see: “having shit figured out” above) and also what scares us (aging, for example)) I am here to tell you. It’s ok to be scared. Life can be scary. Instead of turning and running, I think it might do us all a world of good to really sit with our fears. To get to know them. To be on intimate terms with them. In my experience, we have a lot to learn from the things that scare us.
Well, that’s my arm chair philosophy for the day.
Ok, you clicked on this to read about a day in our life as unschoolers. Or maybe you just stumbled here by mistake while you were trying to order something on amazon. Either way, welcome to my head space.
Now I will describe to you a typical day in the life as unschoolers (or more likely an atypical day as there pretty much are no typical days).
One day last week, the grandparents carpooled out to spend the day here so that we could show them our local zoo. The kids, high on anticipation, were up way earlier than usual begging me every five to ten minutes or so how long until the grandparents would be here. We had cereal for breakfast, which, oddly enough, though I think tastes like cardboard, my kids love and see as an extravagant treat. Ruth probably helped Miles get dressed as sometimes, she informs me, very seriously, that she will be his mother for the day, and then proceeds to care for all of his needs, from dressing him to buckling him into his car seat. Joel is finally dressing himself though I am still the main hair-brusher around here.
Once the grandparents finally arrived, we drove to the zoo and I purchased us a membership so we can now go anytime! We spent the day just walking around the zoo, looking at everything. Ruth, who can be quite drill-sergeant-like, kept us moving at a brisk pace, anxious to show her grandparents everything there was to see, though often, we have the opportunity, because we usually have no other place to be, to take everything at a leisurely pace. We did spend a relaxing bit of time just watching the moose who were being uncharacteristically showy and close.
It ended up being a hot day. That combined with the stress of waiting for the grandparents’ visit proved to be a lot for the kids to handle and by the time we left, everyone was a bit sweaty and careworn. An impromptu visit to the park just outside the zoo seemed to be the perfect balm to everyone’s tempers. Ruth immediately shed her footwear, followed shortly thereafter by her little brothers, and was soon climbing all over the play structure amongst the crowd of preschoolers and parents who eyed her suspiciously as if to wonder, “Why isn’t this kid in school?” I’m getting used to these looks as I watch the calculations go on behind these peoples’ eyes as assumptions are formed, watching my wild and zany daughter violate all kinds of social norms of a kid her age.
After a while, we had to leave so that I could get home and make dinner in a timely fashion (how’s that for 1950’s era family mentality?). We drove home and the grandparents hung out with the grandkids while I cooked and, as it is on a daily basis, dinner was steaming and on the table by the time Greg stepped his foot in the back door and kissed me on the cheek, “Leave it to Beaver”-style (where the hell are my high heels, apron and pearls??)
After dinner, the grandparents left to go home and then we took a walk around our neighborhood. We probably had our nightly herbal tea ritual (we all drink some herbal tea together) read some books and then went to bed.
Thanks for tuning in. Join us again next time for a day in the life, unschooling edition.