The Value of Supplemental Activities

A friend recently posed an intriguing question to a group of homeschooling moms: “If money were no object, what would you purchase first for your homeschool?” The usual wish-list items came out: specific curriculum choices, books, more books, shelves for all the books, rooms just for school stuff, and books. However, I was the most surprised by reading a spontaneous part of my own answer: “For us, it wasn’t the curriculum itself that ‘made’ homeschooling — it was the extra-curricular activities and supplemental things we did that we remember most and learned the most from.” It was an aspect of homeschooling that I had never truly pondered before, at least not in so many words. I have often suggested various activities to help struggling students bridge the learning styles gap with assorted curricula, but suddenly I was seeing activities as The Most Important Part of any homeschooling experience.

It is not the curriculum itself that matters most; it is what you do with the program and what you do besides the program that will make all the difference in your homeschooling endeavor. Supplemental activities can turn a mediocre program into an educational experience far better than the most renowned program on the market. The activities you choose can be tailored to your child’s individual needs and interests, whereas a boxed program must be universally applicable.

Some programs are better than others, but that still goes only so far. My regular readers already know how much I loved Miquon Math for grades 1-3, but the suggested activities were what really drove the concepts home. Practice away from the workbooks and playing and experimenting with Cuisenaire rods are what solidified the knowledge that was presented in the books. Saxon Math effectively used real-life examples through word problems to teach the students how to set up a formula. (Once they have the formula, any math student can solve the formula.) Our supplemental activities for Saxon math included applying the formulas to more areas of real life: relating fractions to pies and candy bars, doubling recipes for practice using fractions, calculating the areas, perimeters, and angles for home improvement projects, and applying the mathematics of probabilities to everyday situations in my students’ lives. When my daughter had trouble understanding probability from the textbook example of red marbles and blue marbles, I changed the problem to fit her teddy bear collection. Suddenly, her favorite white polar bear stood out in marked contrast to the other bears, and the chances of selecting him at random from a pile of stuffed bears was more easily understood.

We played a great deal with construction toys, but we always built something, even if our projects were not elaborate architectural models. We never stacked the bricks just for the sake of stacking bricks. Instructions for Erector Set models or K’nex figures were a launching pad for our imaginations as we challenged ourselves to combine patterns or build bigger or better designs. Real life usually requires you to have some type of plan, so our activities always had a basic plan as well. We dared to dream, and we learned through the trying, whether we succeeded or not.

We are all familiar with the jokes about students who put a book underneath their pillows, hoping to absorb information by osmosis while they slept. We smile and laugh, knowing that there is no possible way for that to happen, but many times we urge a child to “read the book,” expecting him to absorb all the information in that manner. If the child is adept at visual learning, it may happen, but so much more knowledge and understanding can be gained through the addition of a few supplemental activities. Activities break down the barriers of learning styles, making it possible to teach your child in the way he learns best, no matter what curriculum you are using.

When I took a college chemistry course, I worked industriously at memorizing vast quantities of information. They were only meaningless words to me, but I forced myself to memorize them so that I could reproduce them on test papers. However, through working in the chemistry lab, experimenting with the acids, bases, minerals, and gases, I began to understand the concepts behind those words. I had read the book, and I had learned the facts, but I did not gain understanding until I got into a supplemental activity. Watching bubbles form in a beaker of water as electrodes forced the hydrogen and oxygen molecules to separate made the atomic bonding process straightforward and uncomplicated. It was right there in front of me. I could watch it happen. I collected bubbles of the two gases in separate test tubes and proved their identities with another test. A similar experiment electroplated a nickel coin with the copper from a penny. The diagrams my professor scribbled on the chalkboard became stop-motion animations of the molecular breakdown process. He showed me through symbols and arrows the explanation for what I saw forming in the beaker. It was not sleight-of-hand illusion; it was science taking place at my fingertips. It was not something I could learn sufficiently from merely reading a book. I had read about the process, but actually doing it made the reading portions of my lesson obsolete.

Supplemental activities do not have to be expensive or use fancy materials. Many wonderful, educational activities can be obtained from the simple things you already have around the house.
* Read aloud and discuss plot lines, characters, and what-do-you-think-will-happen-next.
* Play with art and craft materials, even if you have no natural artistic ability whatsoever. If you have difficulty drawing, get off the paper and try “sculpting” with Play-Doh — maybe you are more of a three-dimensional thinker.
* Draw diagrams, even if you have no natural artistic ability whatsoever. The simple chalkboard illustrations that have helped me gain understanding were not artistic or even dimensionally accurate, but I still learned and understood.
* Use manipulatives: hands-on learning aids, whether they are homemade flash cards, things for counting and sorting, or a clock-face made from a paper plate and cardboard “hands.” If it helps your student understand a concept, it is worth your time, trouble, and expense.
* Build models. Who cares if popsicles sticks do not resemble quality building materials? I bought my students a small package of pre-notched “popsicle” sticks (think miniature, flat Lincoln Logs) in the craft department of Wal-Mart. They never looked like much when we built things with them, but the knowledge gained from the process of fitting them together was irreplaceable.
* Do experiments. A vinegar and baking soda reaction is fascinating to someone who has never watched it before. Woodburning with nothing more than a magnifying glass and the sun is another unforgettable experience (especially when you stop paying attention to where you have the light focused and your leg suddenly gets hot).
* Play games. Children sometimes balk at spending more time studying their lessons, but have you ever had a child turn down the chance to play a game? Any game using money is math; many games require forethought and strategy, and all games teach sportsmanship. Get together with other homeschooling families and share your favorite games with each other.
* Invent a new game: take a concept that your students need work on and invent a new game for practicing that concept. Make the pieces yourself or borrow them from other games and write all the necessary rules for some real-life problem-solving experience. I dare you to try it.
* Take on hosting a group project (even if it is nothing more than a Monopoly marathon) and enlist your students to help you plan and execute it. We learned much more from preparing large-scale events than we ever could have learned from merely participating in them. My daughter first ventured into administrative duties when we tackled an event that combined several homeschool support groups. The skills she developed then still serve her today in retail management.
* GO see things and DO stuff: zoos, museums, libraries, etc. A “family pass” will often be usable at more than one location. We purchased a season-long family pass to a small local zoo, only to find that it also entitled us to free admission to a much larger zoo in another city an easy day-trip away. Our pass also included other zoos, history museums, art museums, and science museums for a full year. For a little more than the standard admission for one family visit, we were able to take in multiple wonderful experiences. Another amazing surprise for me was how fascinating unfamiliar libraries were to my children. We dropped by the public library in another city and ended up spending hours exploring it and seeing how its features differed from our local library. Whether you take an extended, educational, family vacation or just walk around your neighborhood noticing the architectural differences, it can be a memorable learning experience.

Anything that takes place outside of the textbooks or outside of the house is always memorable. If I were to ask my children to name their “Top 10 Favorite Things” from our homeschooling days, none of their responses would include the textbooks we used. Their “Top 1,000” list would barely touch on textbooks. Let me say this again: it is not the curriculum itself that matters the most. It is what you do with the program and what you do besides the program that will make all the difference in your homeschooling experience.

Homeschooling the Neighborhood

In my state it is not legal for me to officially homeschool children who are not members of my immediate family. However, we did sometimes include neighborhood playmates in our activities, particularly in the summertime when “just another day to play” can tend to be somewhat boring. We did not always do formal lessons through the summer, but we did incorporate fascinating, fun, and educational activities into the relaxed playtime of summer.

Summer was a time when I could devote more of my time to planning or preparing a study or activity for later use. I found that I could also give something a “test run” by trying it out on the kiddies — if they enjoyed a taste of it, chances are they would enjoy a more in-depth look during the school year, and perhaps even the children in our larger co-op group would be interested in it, too. So what do you do when your own children are not quite enough for the activity you would like to try out? Let the neighbors join in. Several times, I prepared a fun, yet interesting and educational activity for my own children to do on a boring summer day, only to find that their neighborhood friends were just as interested in breaking the monotony of swinging and bicycling.

Such was the case when I did extensive research and calculations to examine exactly what size an effective solar-system model should be. I have seen many of the science-fair-type of planetary exhibits made from Styrofoam balls, assorted fruits, or sports balls, but I had always felt that I was not seeing an accurate portrayal from those. While my children were spending their summertime swinging, roller-blading, or just relaxing with a novel, I was delightedly poring over scientific facts and punching furiously at my calculator — a welcome change for me from the usual Mom-fare of laundry and dishes. When I finally trooped outside with my notebook of figures, a large measuring tape, and crude signposts mounted on popsicle sticks, my participants were not merely my own offspring, but their eager friends as well, who jumped at the chance to be included in measuring our lawn and placing the markers for each planet’s orbit. Never was one of my summer projects met with an “I already learned that at school” or a “This is vacation — I don’t want to learn anything” response from the children who were not my regular students. Whenever we needed some extra “classmates” for our learning games, there were always ready and eager volunteers.

One day I prepared the “geeWhiz Quiz” for my children, intending it to double as both a math activity and a scavenger hunt. I also secretly hoped that their time spent searching through the game closet would spur some interest in long-forgotten table games and interest them in playing a few of those again. I explained the process of the activity to them while a friend from the neighborhood was present. She seemed deeply disappointed that I expected my children to do this activity later, after she would have returned home. I quickly copied another worksheet for her, and all three children happily spent the entire afternoon in arithmetical computations. My anticipated bonus also paid off: the trio did find several games that piqued their interest, and they kept themselves occupied for many days afterwards.

We often filled our front sidewalk with an extensive Dr. Seuss universe in colored chalk drawings or an ever-expanding circus train overflowing with acrobatic clowns and exotic animals (each new helper got to add his own train car). Our favorite cartoon book illustrations were faithfully copied over and over and over in sidewalk chalk creations. A cleansing overnight rain never brought disappointment, but instead it meant a clean slate for tomorrow. Time after time, the neighborhood children would see us sitting in the middle of the sidewalk and rapidly migrate to our front yard, picking up bits of chalk and asking what parts they could add to the growing mural. My children were not lacking in social contacts with age-mates, and they learned valuable lessons in teamwork and the sharing of ideas as well as supplies.

Being the only homeschool family in your area does not necessarily mean you will not have contacts with other students. We had many opportunities to share educational experiences with public and private school students who were eager to join us in doing things our way. The neighborhood parents knew they could expect our fun activities to have an educational benefit, and their children never seemed to mind it either.

Are You Ready for a Challenge? Pan-states!

We underestimate the life-long effect homeschooling can have on students. As homeschool parents, we demonstrate fractions by cutting up brownies or “drawing” in yogurt. We take science class into the backyard with a magnifying glass and carefully ignite dry leaves with the sun’s rays or peek into the miniature world of creatures existing beneath our feet. We see lesson applications everywhere we go in life and in everything we do. And then we are still somewhat surprised when we see our students continuing their educational adventures long after our “homeschooling” days are over. My son is a prime example.

My son was spending the weekend with my daughter, and he began making breakfast for his sister. Being the unstoppable comedian that he is, the pancakes began taking on shapes other than the usually simple, but somewhat boring round disks. It soon became a breakfast geography challenge to “name that state” as Iowa, Utah, New York, and New Jersey each took shape on the griddle. Hawaii was an obvious success, but the sharply angled states were a little more difficult to discern. The name “Pan-states” preceded a rush to do states having panhandles: Florida and Oklahoma leading the way. The entire process was soon overridden with such hilarious laughter that attempting to swallow food was not a safe activity.

What doting parents have not treated their little ones to bunny-eared pancakes or a breakfast tribute to Mickey Mouse? I have been well acquainted with shaped pancakes in the past, but this was a new concept for me. Even the cakes I shaped like my children’s initials seem quite tame by comparison now. Pan-states — pancake batter dribbled into shapes roughly (very roughly) resembling U.S. states. It brings a whole new dimension to breakfast.

Star Wars Goes Homeschool

Yes, I confess: I am a Star Wars fan. Although I did not have any interest in seeing the first film of the series when it debuted umpteen years ago, I was quickly converted by a trusted friend who took me to see The Empire Strikes Back and explained the vital parts that I had missed. I have since passed this legacy to my children, who are now bigger fanatics than I am — which brings me to the point of this article: Star Wars can be effectively incorporated into a homeschool curriculum.

If your family members are currently refreshing memories and storylines by re-viewing all the previous movies, and if your brooms and mops have broken handles from attempted light-saber duels in the backyard, you might as well accept the fact that Star Wars has already made its impact on your home. Star Wars can be studied as intensively as any other interest: find a bio on George Lucas or any of the actors; try drawing your own characters from another “galaxy”; study the military strategies of the various battles; build a model droid out of cardboard boxes.

Our homeschool co-op group held a Literature Fair a few months after Episode One debuted. The idea of a Literature Fair is similar to a Science Fair: students research a project and present a display on their chosen topic — a book, series of books, or an author, and the students were encouraged to come in a costume related to their display. My students were totally consumed at that time with the Star Wars phenomenon, since a new series of the films was being created especially for their generation, so, of course, it became their top choice for a presentation.

We purchased the book The Phantom Menace and my students each read it. Another family’s students joined forces with mine in this project who already owned multiple, well-read Star Wars novels. The table display included miniature pod racers built from K’nex, a wide assortment of Star Wars novels, and several books on the creation process behind the books and movies: character development, costuming, and the “science” behind how the weapons and starships are supposed to work. All together, it was an effective display showing the links between printed literature and motion pictures. Knowing that some members of our group would probably object to certain elements of the film, I urged my students to cover all their bases and “think big” — reasoning that a well-done project is hard to refute, regardless of its topic. My son and his friend (both age 13) had already begun a casual round of light-saber fighting, mimicking the “Duel of the Fates” finale, so we Moms encouraged them to choreograph their steps for precision and safety and perform their battle as part of their presentation.

Now we had to consider actual characters and costumes. My son volunteered to be the bad guy, Darth Maul, not fearing any consequences from assuming an evil persona for one night. Young Obi-Wan was a friendlier-looking character, especially when played by my son’s genial friend. My daughter (age 16) was nearly drooling at the chance to don any of Queen Amidala’s elaborate ensembles — which my sewing abilities forced me to scale waaaaay back.

On the night of the event, I did my son’s face paint at home (a scary transformation that caused even him to utter a brief whoa at first glance in the mirror), and we arrived extra-early at the venue so he could remain hidden while all the other families arrived and set up their displays. We announced that our students’ presentation included a short dramatic re-creation of one scene from their featured display, and asked any interested persons to take seats upstairs in the gymnasium in five minutes. My son’s appearance had still been concealed from public view up to this point, except for the young lady who accidentally bumped into him on a darkened back stairway. He was not expecting to meet anyone either, and they both gasped in surprise.

As the taped soundtrack began playing, Obi-Wan entered from a far door, twirling his blue light-saber (spray-painted metal conduit), and looking pensive. Suddenly, Darth Maul emerged threateningly from another door with his double-ended, red light-saber, and the gymnasium seemed to morph into a galaxy far, far away. The choreography had been rehearsed to near-perfection, the costumes were close enough to carry the mood, the harsh clashing from the weapons added authenticity, and the background music covered everything else. A few minutes later, my son lay on the floor in mock-death, while a young boy in the audience hooted and cheered and called my son by name, “Get up, Nathan! GET UP!” as if he needed to break the spell of the death scene. The boys performed their scene three times that night at half-hour intervals, as nearly everyone in attendance watched and cheered through all three performances.

Obi-Wan’s little sister (age 7 and dressed as handmaiden Padme) said she knew Darth Maul was really her brother’s friend, but she just could not bring herself to look at him. We had not anticipated the whole thing having such a realistic effect, so my son dropped his hood to expose his curly hair, knelt down, and talked gently to the smaller children who had been a bit fearful, showing his warm grin, and letting them hear his familiar voice and see that his face was just painted. Since Darth Maul does not smile in the movie, even a small smile was enough to break the effects of the character’s make-up.

We did not receive any verbal objections to the elaborate presentation (unless they were spoken behind our backs), but being the rebels that we are, we were ready with our defense: evil is portrayed as evil in the Star Wars saga; it is not sweetened up or cloaked in artificial goodness. As literature goes, Hamlet would not be the same story without the evil influence, nor would most other “classics.” Even the Bible, although truly more factual history than literature, has a truly evil villain.

The beauty of homeschooling is that we can shift our curriculum to meld with our students’ interests. If Star Wars is your family’s main interest right now, encourage them to investigate it more deeply, and use it to your advantage. It got my son’s nose into several books.

Social Skills — What Should I Teach My Preschooler?

Your oldest child (or only child) is quickly approaching school age. You have been curious about homeschooling, but you worry about how little Katie or Bobby will learn to interact in a group. Will your child need to go to school to learn how to work and play well with others? Socialization is not something that can be taught; social skills are a different matter. A child can successfully be taught at home the basic skills needed for interacting with other children, even if there are no siblings in the home.

Skills to teach your preschooler:
Patience
–Start by being an example of patience to your child. While waiting in line at the grocery store, explain how to wait calmly and cheerfully. Help your child to judge time by watching the other customers progress through their lines. Getting the focus off himself will help the child to learn patience. (I taught my children to judge longer waiting times by relating to things in their world: a few minutes’ wait was equal to a Bugs Bunny cartoon; other time periods used were half-hour TV episodes or 60- and 90-minute videos that they knew by heart. Patience came much more easily when they understood their wait would take one “Elephant Show” or one “Robin Hood.”)
–Not interrupting when adults are talking: “Let me finish my sentence first, and then I will see what you need. I know you are here, and I will not forget about you.” Make this reciprocal as you allow your child to finish his sentences without interrupting him. (True emergencies are always exceptions.) I taught my children to come and stand quietly beside me if I was speaking to another adult and wait a few moments for my attention. Many times I turned to them to hear their question, only to find out they had no request — they just wanted to be with Mom for a while.
–Taking turns: Play games together, beginning with just the two of you, then later add a playmate to increase the time that elapses between a child’s own turns. (Until a little patience has developed, it is very hard to wait for your turn to come around again!) Keep the focus on playing as the fun part, not winning, and do not ridicule the loser. We played many games (such as Scrabble) without ever keeping score, to ensure that the emphasis was on learning or using a skill and not on winning and losing.

Sharing
–Help your child to see the Big Picture when having playtime with a friend. Discuss with your child before the friend arrives that the friend will be here for only a short time and that all of the toys will still be here after the friend leaves. Emphasize your child’s opportunity to allow his friend to have the same enjoyment he has with his toys. If your child has some extra-special toys that he is afraid might be damaged, put those toys safely away before the friend comes. I have watched as many a Mom ripped a treasured toy out of her own child’s arms and handed it to the visitor, thinking she was teaching her child to “share” instead of clutching it with what she considered to be unreasonable sentimentality. All it seemed to accomplish was to convince the unhappy child that the visitor was more important to Mom than her own child’s feelings.

Fairness
–More game playing: do not play in such a way as to allow the child to always win. Playing is more enjoyable and lasts much longer than the moment of winning. The more games you play, the more opportunity there is for the child to see that winning is either random or related to skill. Help the child to develop the needed skills to improve his playing ability. Skewing the game so that the child always wins gives the child an unrealistic view and sets him up for major disappointment when someone else is victorious. Short games, such as tic-tac-toe, can be played multiple times within a few minutes, removing the focus from winning and losing.

Sportsmanship is a combination of the above skills. Regardless of the situation, if you can learn to accept the outcome gracefully, you can be pleased with your accomplishment. A good sport is always welcome; bad sports are not often asked to play again.

Appropriate Behavior
–Volume, speed, movement, etc. should be suited to your surroundings and circumstances. A park is a great place to run, jump, and be loud — but not when you are attending an outdoor wedding.
–Family “signals” for behavior are a tremendous help in discipline. We developed “the family whistle,” a specific melody of three or four notes that became our unique signal to “come now.” While not quite as startling as Captain Von Trapp’s system, our whistle aided us in finding each other when separated by a few aisles in large stores or in gaining the attention of a family member who had strayed a little too far. The whistle was more dignified to use than shouting and was rarely noticed by strangers in our midst. In recent years, I have been pleasantly surprised to hear a few other softly whistled signals in large department stores — obviously other families with their own “secret” signals.

One loud snap of the fingers became our “quiet” signal, used after “lights out,” in the car, or anytime a quick reminder was needed. The “snap” put the responsibility on the child to remind himself of the signal’s meaning, rather than forcing mom and dad into nagging as they repeated a verbal admonition to be quiet. Coincidentally, this device also worked on our dog, as he simultaneously learned to quiet himself and settle down whenever he heard a snap.

Communication
Children learn the basics of communication best through hearing language spoken to them. From the day my children were born, I spoke directly to each of them. Whether in my arms or in the baby swing, I was usually carrying on a conversation with Baby, giving a running commentary on whatever household chore was at hand. Bystanders may have thought me daft, but I felt it would give the child a headstart on language skills. I did not speak “baby talk,” but spoke to the tiny, enchanted face as though it knew exactly what I was saying. Language came easily to my children, and they both spoke with clarity and confidence beyond what most people expected.

An older woman I knew began babysitting her neighbors’ daughter, but became frustrated when she had trouble communicating with little Annie. The 3-year-old had difficulty answering questions. At mealtime, the woman asked Annie if she wanted a certain food, but the child would not reply to the yes-or-no question. A few moments later, the girl blurted out “Annie pizza!” The woman (expecting only “yes” or “no” as the answer) became increasing upset as she kept repeating the question and demanding, “Say yes or no,” to which the child would innocently reply, “Yes or no.” As the woman shared her frustration with me later, she asked why I thought the child would only answer in such confusing ways. There seemed to be a lack of some basic communication skills. Other children, younger than this girl, had no trouble answering questions, so this woman was baffled as to why this child could not do the same. (Also complicating the situation was the adult’s insistence on repeating the same question, instead of trying other ways to communicate with the child.)

As we discussed the situation, more behaviors were revealed. This very big girl ate her meals in a high-chair, using no utensils, yet she had no disabilities. All food had to be cut into tiny pieces and placed directly on the chair’s tray for her to eat with her fingers, even though other children her age sat at the family table and used plates and silverware. The parents routinely put the girl alone in her bedroom to listen to books on tape before her very early bedtime. The parents were both employed in well-paid professions, worked long hours, and spent very little time with their daughter. The lack of one-on-one time showed dramatically in the girl’s abilities.

To solve the problem of answering questions, I suggested that the woman should ask the child a simple yes-or-no question, such as “Do you want pizza for lunch?” Then when the girl shouted “Annie pizza,” the woman should patiently prompt the child to say, “Yes, I want pizza.” Repeating this a few times quickly taught the girl how to answer the question with the word “yes” and gave the babysitter a few ideas for dealing with obstacles to communication.

Children can learn to converse with other adults under the safety of parental supervision. When we were questioned by friends, neighbors, relatives, or acquaintances as to what we were doing in our homeschool, I often deferred to my children for the answer. If the adult was asking me about the children’s opinion of homeschooling, I felt it was silly for me to answer when my children were standing right there, capable of speech. I would turn to the child, repeat the question (if necessary, in words the child could relate to), and assure the child that he could openly share his feelings with my adult friend. Obviously, none of us wants to encourage our children to speak to strangers when they are by themselves, but we as adults know many people that our children do not know, and we can comfort the children that our acquaintances are all right to speak to when we are present. Adults sometimes avoid speaking directly to children, often because they assume they will only receive a blank stare from an overly shy child who believes it is unsafe to speak to any adult that he does not know. In the controlled environment of having Mom or Dad present, the child can confidently practice speaking to an adult and learn the art of polite conversation.

Lengthen attention span through listening and comprehension activities. Simply reading stories to a child and asking a few questions as you go will get them more involved in the process. Television programming now changes scenes at least every ten seconds, in order to adapt to the modern viewer’s very short attention span, so we must work on teaching activities that capture and hold a child’s attention. I gave in to the purchase of a video game set when I saw how it had the potential of teaching some valuable skills to my elementary-aged children. (This was the Super Nintendo system with one of the harmless Mario Brothers games.) The obstacle course aspect of the game improved the children’s attention spans, increased their memories (when they made a mistake, the scene started over), improved eye-hand coordination, and taught them anticipation. They had to anticipate what obstacle would come next, and, if an enemy would be coming on-screen soon, where it would come, what it could do, and what skill they would need to conquer that enemy. (I do recommend saving the video games for a reward after required work is done, and limiting the time spent playing the games. I also held veto power over the purchase of any games containing excessive violence or occult elements.)

Improve observation skills by having your child help sort out the toys when putting things away or by playing observation games. “I spy” was my favorite game to play with my grandmother as she did her housework. She would place her thimble somewhere in plain sight, and then call me into the room to begin looking for it. As Grandma continued with her tasks, I searched high and low until I spotted the tiny object. When my cousin was also present, we had to call out “I spy” upon seeing the thimble, teaching us patience while allowing the other person a chance to keep looking. I suspect it was also Grandma’s favorite way of keeping little ones safely occupied while she accomplished a few household chores. Now “I Spy” refers to a series of wonderful photo-books, filled with thousands of miniature objects. I find those just as fascinating as looking for Grandma’s thimble on her massive bookshelves.

Improve memory skills through games such as finding matching pairs from Go Fish cards turned face-down on the table. My own memory is very good, a skill I credit to much time spent in memory-building activities from childhood to the present. When teaching my children to remember past activities (such as where one may have left his shoes), I taught them to “walk backwards in your mind” through all their recent steps to “see” the pictures in their minds of where they had been, what they had done, and what they had seen and heard. It was a great exercise in memory — one that the grandparents began using themselves to find their misplaced eyeglasses!

Improve motor skills through tracing and other writing-readiness activities, using scissors, playing hopscotch, or walking along a 2×4 board on the ground as a beginner’s balance beam. Work on both fine motor skills (small muscle control: finger dexterity) and gross motor skills (large muscle coordination: arms and legs). Better coordination means the child has more physical control over his own actions and more confidence in his own abilities. Offering plenty of opportunities to use their developing skills (such as cutting paper with scissors) will deter children from perfecting those skills in mischievous ways (cutting their own hair, the cat’s whiskers, their clothing, or the fabric on the back side of the sofa).

All of these skills, though very basic, will prepare your child for interaction with a group. They will instill confidence in your child as he sees his progress, teaching him that he can learn new things. Once he has acquired these foundational skills, your child will be more than ready for you to present more formal subjects, such as reading, writing, and calculus.

[For an encouragement booster, see Learning to Walk — Seen as a New Lesson]

Involving Dads in Homeschooling

Moms often ask how to include their husbands in the homeschooling process. Dad is doing his best to earn the living that makes homeschooling possible, but he also may feel like he is not directly involved with the children’s education. There are many facets of education, and Dad can fit in during the free time he does have. Dad’s time with the children may often be limited, but it is always worth waiting for.

Reading — My husband did not read great quantities of books to our children, but he did read certain books over and over to them. Children know their favorite books by heart and instantly recognize anything added in or left out. His favorite trick was including a lizard that was never in the actual stories. He would be reading along and just say the word “lizard” while turning a page, change a character’s name to Larry the Lizard, or add an entirely new sentence about how the lizard who lived next door came over to play. The children shrieked with delight at every lizard, and lovingly scolded Dad that there was not supposed to be a lizard in that book.

Dads add character voices and sound effects all their own, beyond the bounds of Mom’s repertoire. It may be the deep resonance of Dad’s voice that can be physically felt while snuggled against his chest, but there is something extra-special about sitting in Daddy’s lap for a book.

Sports — My non-sports-nut husband took our kids biking, hiking, sledding, swimming, skating (standard & inline), bowling, and fishing, usually after a long, tiring day at work. He drove them to soccer practice, attended every game, and even helped out as assistant coach for a season. He got down and dirty playing paintball with our teenaged son and other dads and lads. Meanwhile, Mom, whose idea of cutting-edge sports is doing the Sunday crossword puzzle in ink, was very glad to have Dad’s enthusiastic partnership. No matter how hard I have tried, my athletic ability is moot. What I lack in talent and coordination I try to make up in enthusiasm. I would happily hold the family’s accumulated belongings while my husband accompanied the children on every ride the amusement park offered, knowing there was not enough motion-sickness medicine on the planet to get me through the three minutes of torture from a single ride. Without my husband’s participation, our children’s lives would have been sadly idle.

Rough-housing — Dads play horsey; Moms cuddle & kiss boo-boo’s. Children know that Dad will wrestle and toss them into the air and swing them around and around. Dads make every event thrilling just by being Dad. Too many times to count, I have said, “No, you probably shouldn’t do that — it looks dangerous,” only to have my husband grin and say, “Why not? Let’s try it!” I gave in because my husband was there to supervise, participate, or control the situation from getting out of hand. Dad added an element of surprise, a thrill of adventure, and a safety net all at the same time.

Dads teach weekend home improvement and car maintenance, as much through letting Little Brother watch as through actually allowing Bigger Brother help. Our Christmas breaks were often a time for our son to be Dad’s apprentice for painting, wiring the garage, removing wallpaper, or numerous small projects around the house. At age 18 my son readily stepped into the handyman roll at a friend’s apartment, having practiced the basics with Dad and Grandpa from a very young age.

Some homeschooling families are able to share the teaching responsibilities — we know a few Dads who like to teach their children upper level math and science. Other families have found that Dad’s work schedule did not allow him to contribute very often to the actual teaching process, and Mom could adequately cover their academics. Whatever and whenever Dad can participate, his contribution will leave a lasting impact. Dads are exciting — no matter what they do, it becomes an adventure, while Moms teach quietly unexciting homemaking skills. Dads use tools like drills and saws; Moms use rubber spatulas.

Include Dad in your homeschooling at every opportunity. It will be as much of an adventure for him as it is for Mom and the children. Remember, it does not have to involve books to be education.

“Why Aren’t You in SCHOOL?”

To leave or not to leave — the house, that is, with your children during “school hours.” Many new homeschooling families wonder if they must cloister themselves at home until that magic hour when the public schools dismiss for the day — and only then could they dare to venture forth. If we truly see education as a non-stop enterprise, then we must also hold that education can and will occur in the marketplace as well as at the dining room table. But how should one respond to the nosy clerk or shopper who snidely asks, “Why aren’t you children in school?”

It has been my experience that a ready answer delivered with confidence will deter most busybodies, while uncertain hesitancy just provokes more questions. Therefore, we began our occasional daytime excursions prepared to deliver a carefully rehearsed response — “We have a half-day off today,” although I do not recall ever actually having to use that particular reply. Some people never asked why my children were not in school — evidently they saw nothing unusual, or they were already used to homeschoolers. The people who did ask us questions either stopped after our first response or continued to question, genuinely curious about homeschooling — which my children and I were only too happy to answer.

I remember reading once about a clerk who asked a child what school he went to. The student replied, “We HOMEschool!” The puzzled clerk repeated “Weehome School? Where’s that?” When my children were asked why they were not in school, they usually spoke up eagerly, proclaiming “WE homeschool!” and offering a further explanation: “This IS school — we’re comparing prices for math class!” Any time we shopped, value was a primary goal, so we were always comparing prices, sizes, and ingredients. We once were threatened by a zealous supermarket assistant manager, who felt our daughter’s in-depth, store-to-store comparison of brands and prices was going too far. My husband asked for the head manager, who then became uniquely interested in our project. We left the store after completing our price survey — with the manager’s apology and a $25 gift certificate, and he happily kept a photocopy of our research of his competitors.

Usually, my children boasted that they had already finished their work for the day and were therefore free to spend the remainder of the day in their choice of pursuits. It is not our fault that the public schools are such an inefficient form of education that it takes them seven hours to complete what we could accomplish in two hours. In our first year, I felt as if we must not be dedicating sufficient time to our lessons because we got them done so quickly. Then I realized that if we were to spend as many hours in session as the public schools did, we would complete our entire school year in only a few weeks or months. A brief analysis of the public school’s daily schedule reveals how much of their time is completely wasted: waiting for the teacher to take attendance and complete other daily records; waiting for quiet so the teacher can give instructions; waiting for the teacher to repeat the instructions to all those who were not listening or could not hear because of the noise made by the others who were not listening; waiting for the other students to complete the lesson so you can move on to the next one; waiting for the teacher to gain control over the discipline-challenged student in the back of the room; waiting for all the students to line up properly to move from Room A to Room B; waiting, waiting, waiting. The time they spend on actual lessons is comparable to our time spent on homeschool lessons.

After the first few years, we outgrew our timidity and began boldly going where no schoolchildren had gone before. I preferred making our trips to the grocery store or Wal-Mart during the day, because there were fewer customers during those hours, and we could do our shopping more efficiently. Our schoolwork could be done any time — we wanted to take advantage of the best hours for our shopping. We confidently marched forth, practically daring people to ask why we were not in school. I began to call those opportunities “speech class” — knowing my children would jump at the chance for on-the-spot experience in public speaking. They were not at all shy when it came to boasting about their homeschool accomplishments, and their confident grasp of language and vocabulary usually left their interviewers astonished and speechless.

Our city’s public library is normally a quiet haven during the afternoons, hosting only a few senior citizens in the reading room. We happened to be there one day when a busload of middle-school children came in, supposedly to work on research projects. The noise level increased so dramatically that my children and I could no longer hear each other without shouting, face to face. The public school students (the ones with all those well-publicized “socialization” skills) ran all over the multi-level building, chasing, teasing, shouting, and generally disrupting everything without doing any actual research. The sole teacher with the large group of students could only be in one area at a time, leaving the bulk of her group unsupervised to wreak havoc and drive off any other daytime patrons. We finally packed up our books and went home; I did not want my children to be accidentally considered part of that rowdy group, and it was no longer an enjoyable place to be. It was no wonder that the librarian in the children’s section was always happy to see my children — they knew how to behave.

A year ago, I drove my mother-in-law to her physical therapy appointment and sat in the waiting area until she was finished. While I was reading my book, a young boy came in with his mother for her appointment, obviously during school hours. He had an apple in one hand, his Bible in the other hand, quietly took a seat near me, and promptly began reading. I broke into a huge grin as I recognized the telltale signs of a homeschooler. No situation is disrupted by a well-mannered child.

Recess was an uncomfortable concept during our first year of homeschooling. I felt (silly me) that we should start by following the “school model” of regularly timed breaks with me present as the adult playground supervisor. I soon realized that this was HOMEschool, not SCHOOL at home. This was, after all, MY home, not a concentration camp. I still lived in America, the nation with the most freedom on the planet, and homeschooling was LEGAL. Public school teachers do not have to prepare the mid-day meal for their students; I did and needed extra time for it. Government schools also take their students on boondoggled field trips all the time, so we should enjoy the same freedom. (After we had left the public school system, I learned from both of my children that they had been on several trips away from the school grounds without my knowledge or permission. So much for parents’ rights.)

I loosened up and allowed my children to take their lunch break at the times that best worked into their schedules, sometimes varying with each day as they finished a subject early or needed a little extra time. I allowed them to play outdoors in our fenced backyard UNsupervised (gasp). I allowed them to take schoolwork outdoors on beautiful days to soak up some natural vitamin D and fresh air. I allowed them to ride their bicycles or rollerblades in front of the nearby middle school, even though the institution’s occupants became quite distracted at the sight. (After a heckling incident during the public school’s outdoor PE class, my son restricted his bicycling to during their classroom times. Years later, a boy began a conversation with my son by saying, “Hey, you’re that kid who used to ride your bike outside my school!”) We took walks together, whenever and wherever we wanted, knowing that even the simple act of walking around the block provided us with educational experiences in observing nature, architecture, or a street repair crew.

Time is the great healer — a little experience will give you the confidence to tackle anything during your homeschool days. Once you recognize that education happens wherever you are, whatever you are doing, you should have no qualms about leaving your home during “school hours.” Let the busybodies ask their questions — and give them more answers than they expected.

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