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Posts Tagged ‘attempts at humor’

With Virginia’s homeschooling conventions coming up soon, I thought this would be an appropriate time to share my thoughts on homeschool curriculum. So here you go:

How to Select a Homeschool Curriculum

Day 1: Google homeschool curricula. Get distracted by trying to figure out the plural of curriculum. (Classical ed folk will know the Latin plural. Unschoolers will know the name for it in Swahili, or create a mathematical code that stands for each of the letters. People like me will look it up on merriam-webster.com, and then still misspell it.)

Start reading at result number 1 of 35, 000,000,000,000,000.  Begin seriously doubting not only your capability to homeschool, but also your worth as a carbon-based lifeform by result number 3.

Day 2: Take a deep breath and review the reasons you are considering homeschooling. Call a homeschooling friend. Discover that people who truly want to give their child the best education use Charlotte Mason.

Call another friend. Find out that people who truly want to give their child the best education use Classical Conversations.

Call another friend. Learn that your first two friends are destined to failure, because the only way to ensure success is through Montessori.

Day 3: Read about Waldorf. Mail order chickens. Call your husband at work and ask him to pick up some wire mesh for the coop on his way home.

Cancel chicken order.

Day 4: Narrow down your list. Discard method 6, which lists growing cannibis as a science experiment. Rule out number 34 because it would require becoming Amish.  Anything that made you seriously consider self-destructive behaviors (like watching Matlock or buying your children drums) should go too. You can look at those during year 2.

Day 5: Put all the curricula that you haven’t crossed out into a hat, sprinkle them with holy water, and pick.  Order the complete package, including highlighters, playdough, and an exact historical replica of Leonardo Da Vinci’s day planner. (That last one might be a gimmick.)

Day…Somewhere down the road: Discover that you and your children can have a great experience and learn tons no matter which path you chose.

 

P.S. Sorry if you were expecting actual advice!

Photo by Enokson under CC License

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I’m not saying that the tooth fairy is a ditz. Ok, I kind of am. I hope it’s not libel or anything, but I feel like someone out there needs to tell the truth. And the truth is, the Tooth Fairy is an unreliable character.

More than once she has left my kids hanging when they have awoken early, the hope in their little eyes gleaming, begging not to be disappointed. I have had to cover for her, as I now realize my parents also had to cover for her. And I don’t think I’m alone in this.

When that plaintive, heartbroken cry rings out, “Mom, the tooth fairy forgot to come,” a parent has little choice but to say, “Maybe you just missed it. Here, let me look.” Which is why sleight of hand is taught in parent prep courses right along with Lamaze breathing. Our whole society is enabling the tooth fairy’s untrustworthy behavior.

The reason this is coming up now, on the eve of Easter, is that the Easter Bunny would never be able to get by with the kind of stuff the tooth fairy pulls. I mean, we parents can deal with her slip-ups; we always have quarters around. But it’s not like we hide extra jelly beans in the sock drawer just in case Peter Cottonball is hungover and doesn’t make it.

The fact of the matter is, though, that Peter never does miss an Easter. I suspect he’s an accountant for the rest of the year. All he does is slip on some wire-rimmed glasses, and the chaps at work never notice his tail.

To come to the point, I propose that we fire the tooth chick and let Peter C. take over for her. He can quit his job at the IRS, put his money skills to good work—possibly diverting tax funds for the purpose (think socialized dental plan)—and have the opportunity to follow his passion for making kids happy all year around, and not just at Easter.

Leave comments if you’re on board.

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Six-year-old soccer is comic relief for the huddled masses of chilly suburban parents who congregate on the sidelines. The game consists mainly of a herd of little guys and gals collectively stampeding after the ball, with various members occasionally stopping to graze, socialize, or demonstrate karate moves. The coaches, who I’m convinced would do better on horseback, encircle the group, lassoing the wayward young ones who take off toward the wrong goal, and shouting reminders that the kids do have positions, the most important position being on the field. They also have to use their timeouts to convince a few of the kids that they can’t be quarterback, because there isn’t one in soccer.

I actually wouldn’t be surprised if Josh’s team burst into a game of freeze tag in the middle of a game. Sometimes I think certain members of the team forget they are in the middle of a game (this applies to Josh in particular).

Strategy is sophisticated at this age, consisting of stealth tactics and spying on the other team. They aren’t supposed to bring special equipment for this, but….well, there is no body cavity search. It’s very hard to distinguish strategy sessions from distractions. There is a lot of social networking that goes on while the ball is…well, anywhere.

I was particularly amused by one little huddle of kids that were supposed to be playing defense. They were deep in conversation, and I wondered what they would do if the ball came their way. As it turns out, their conversation was actually game-related. After the game Josh told me their strategy session. The basic plan: kick it in the goal 

The real secret to their strategy lay in sending one of their defense players downfield with the ball to try to score. Losing one of the defenders was not a huge loss, because a) the strategy did result in a goal, and b) even if the ball had come to their end, their defense strategy consisted mainly of jumping up and down while the other team scored against them. 

All-in-all, a very enjoyable experience. Would have been more so if the temperature had been above 40. But there are worse ways to spend a Saturday.

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