time well spent

A couple of months ago, schooling, in the formal sense, stopped. It was not, as The Prof assumed, a planned spring vacation. It was an abruptly prescribed antidote to burn-out. We were all burned out. And school had become what I most hoped to avoid when we set out on this home education journey: something resembling that dull chore that I underwent as a child. Mind you, I received a good education and had many, many good times. But the good times did not coincide with academic learning. And as of late, our education came to resemble that familiar brick and mortar model. Something mostly limited to, "open your math book, complete three pages," "today for fun we'll do flashcards," "let's review Latin declensions," "only one more page of handwriting and you can head outside." Blah, blah, blah.

I'd thrown a wet blanket on any passion for learning that the Little Scholars once held. Their imaginations had been dulled and their creativity was decomposing. This was exactly the opposite of any vision I'd ever held for our learning life. So, one day I just stopped school. I called it "not-schooling" since it didn't qualify as an official vacation but I wasn't the enthusiastic cheerleader that is required of the "unschooling" parent. Nope, we were just not schooling.


After a few weeks, one of the children finally asked if we were going to be "doing school" anytime soon. One of the siblings elbowed him for asking and prompted him to be quiet as if perhaps I hadn't noticed myself that school had been neglected for the previous three weeks. I cheerfully replied that while I had no immediate plans for resuming book work, the books were still in their usual places and I would be happy to help anyone who really, really wanted to fill in a workbook page.

In the meantime, I just observed. I observed the children spending whole days doing nothing. Really. Nothing creative, nothing remotely meaningful, rarely even playing games together. It made me sad, because I held myself intregally responsible for this dullness. Occasionally one or another child would ask about doing schoolwork and I continued to give the same aforementioned cheerful response. And occasionally, someone would do a little book work...my budding reader has read a few pages from her reader to me, there was a random page of handwriting completed, and one day the girls viewed several review episodes of the instructional DVD that accompanies their math program.

But mostly I worried about about the dullness of their demeanors. I came to realize that they were decompressing. Just sort of clearing their minds and mentally resting. I recognize the validity of this process, but at the same time I couldn't bear another day of the Nothing. To. Do. syndrome, so as I mentioned a couple of days ago, I sent them on a mission with full freedoms to start finding something to do. It seemed to be just the right prescription.

Since then, the water color paints have been nearly used up:

Firstborn was inspired by this new-to-our-children's-collection cookbook, and decided to make everyone Corn Cakes and bacon for lunch yesterday:

The girls have been playing board games and fashioning little paper dolls and felt dolls. And Firstborn has spent hours researching BB guns, seeking the best value, reading reviews, comparing shipping costs, etc. In other words, there is a spark of life back in the creative souls of these young ones. I didn't work any magic by sending them on a mission "to do," I just insisted that they take advantage of the liberties they have always had but hesitated to enjoy.

So while The Prof, who embraces a more traditional educational model, is steering us back toward the book work, I am delighted to see the gradually flowering fruits of our decompression period. And before blindly returning to the old workbooks, I am discussing philosophy with The Prof, options with the children and busying myself reading about the evolving visions (whoa! so very much to consider in that post!), shifting of focus, and detailed plans that others have already laid out regarding the next months and year in their own home "schools". And, naturally, I am taking this all to the Lord in prayer as we seek out our vision, our focus and our plan. Or rather, His vision, His focus, and His plan.