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A Glimpse

Welcome to Our Alternate Reality

Not really.

So, I figure there are two directions an unschooling blog can go: Glimpse, or Soapbox.

Glimpse, as in, Here is our day.  Take from it what you will.

Soapbox, as in, This is why you should unschool.

Honestly, I like both, and have needed both and probably still do need both.  Buuuuut, my fav is definitely the Glimpse.  While all the stats and research and analogies are important, I think the MAIN thang potential unschoolers want to ask current unschoolers is: How nuts is it over at your house?

Right?  I mean, am I right or am I right? Or am I right? (One more time? No. Ok.)

Now, I’m sure our future together will involve me standing on many boxes of soap.  Handmade organic oatmeal tobacco-pipe scented soap.  However, for the next few blogs at least, I’m going to stick with the Glimpse. (Question, how many times can you type Glimpse before it becomes an unrecognizable blob of letters? 7.  The answer is 7.)

So, heeeeeeerrreee we go:

We always wake up around 8.  Could I wake earlier that that? Yes.  But I prefer my husband to be out of the house when I get ready so he can go on living the lie that his wife is one of those rare creatures who always has minty fresh breath and eyelashes made of velvet.  No, the truth is, I don’t like talking when I wake up and the hubs does.  A lot.  Love you, honey.  Winky face.

Sho, we get up.  As in me and the babe.  I change the diaper on her adorable dimpled butt, bite a few toes, nibble a few ribs, and we head downstairs.  Coffee.  Butter and honey toast.  Too many details? Never.  Around now Anna, my newly turned five year old wakes, jaunts happily downstairs, kisses me on the cheek and asks sweetly, “Can I watch a show?”

Approximately two and a half minutes later, a door slams against the wall upstairs and Jolie, the 7 year old, storms decidedly un-happily downstairs, hair arranged in the ever vogue Exorcism of Emily Rose style, and demands, “Why didn’t you wake me uppp?!”  The apple doesn’t fall far from the nappy haired tree, peeps.  (I happen to have a PhD in Metaphors.)  Thankfully, the electronic Lithium commonly referred to as TV is on and The Kratt Brothers have tangled with fiercer creatures than her, though not many.

They watch their little show while I drink aforementioned coffee, read some kind of devotional (Scripture, saint bio, sermon, etc.) and fight the temptation to check out Snapchat.

By the time the show is over, I am capable of conversation so we head into the kitchen for breakfast and breakfast reading.  Sometime during breakfast prep, a sad little voice calls from the top of the stairs, “Moma! I wan you do hode meeeeeeee!”  That would be Ruby, the 3 year old.  In reply, I yell back, while juggling toast and cereal and eggs (always, always eggs.  Unless it’s Wednesday or Friday.  Then never, never eggs), “Come down, honey!  I can’t come up to get you right now!”  This line never seems to persuade anyone and is always met with a mixture of despair (from little sleepy upstairs) and horror at my heartlessness (from the two big girls downstairs).  The baby sucks on her fingers which I interpret as jumping to my defense.  Thanks, Zoe.  You my homie.

Eventually (I know the suspense is killing you) Ruby winds up downstairs and I smother her little heart shaped face with kisses, persuading everyone that I am not, in fact, a heartless monster.  Bra-less, yes.  Heartless, no. We all sit at the table (I’m actually getting to something relevant now, I promise) and (here it is!) we read a section from our children’s Bible, followed by a chapter from our Webster’s Book of Facts (Ta Da! be impressed.)  No, in all seriousness, I love this part of our day.  The Bible reading is always great and is usually followed by a Google image search for relevant icons, hymns, etc.  Oftentimes, especially during Lent and especially especially (especially) during Holy Week, I will bust out (like a ninja) Jesus Of Nazareth and we will watch the relevant scenes (thesaurus search for relevant, people?)  for that day.  The girls LOVE them some Jesus of Nazareth, and I do too.

Now, I have never heard anyone talk about these older-ish Webster Fact books but they are awesome.  The subjects are in alphabetical order so the girls like to guess what’s coming next (Today was Mice.  What do you think for tomorrow?  Moon! Money! Ducks! (that last one was from the 3 year old. She’s crazy.) They have great illustrations and are written well.  There is ALWAYS a Google image search after our Fact Book reading which ALWAYS (YOU MUST LOVE. THE. CAPS.) leads to something else.  For example, reading about money leads to different kinds of currency used in different countries and in different time periods which in turn leads to geography and world history and yada yada yada.  I probably have 3 or 4 of these type of books (here is the place where organized people list the names and authors of the books _______), all of which I bought at used book sales.  What WHAT.

I am tempted to be supremely annoying and make this Part 1 of The Glimpse.  Normally I am  great at resisting temptation (my nickname is St Anthony, actually) but today I’m going to give over to it.  Alright, Part Uno.

Part Dos, soon.  (Pin and needles, bb)

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