Another slow, sweet morning

This morning it was Katy-No-Pocket. Yesterday I think it was Stone Soup. I might have dozed off.

It's funny how no one thinks it's odd to have a Kangaroo walking down the sidewalk. They all are casually strolling next to Katy the Kangaroo. The man with the apron full of pockets is smoking a pipe! Can you imagine someone today making a kids book with smokers in it?




This is what happens most mornings. My kids crawl into bed with me and read books while I try to wake up. My oldest is a great reader. He uses different voices for different people with passion and enthusiasm.

I do feel guilty about still being in bed. In my mind and probably yours, I should be the first one up, fully dressed cheerily waking them with a smile...but it just doesn't happen that way. Or at least, it hasn't happened that way yet.

I am really enjoying this routine of ours. How much longer will it last? Probably not much, soon they will be too big or busy to crawl into my bed and cuddle. So for now I'll try to savor and enjoy it.

But this is one of the many beauties of homeschooling. We live life...together. If we choose to stay home (and we do make an effort to stay home), we can avoid much of the hustle and bustle and plain insanity of modern-day life.

Why stay home? Well, mostly it's cheaper. We seem to be happier when we stay home and do our usual routine. When we go out, there is food to pack, or food to buy. You and the kids see stuff that you think you want but never knew existed 5 minutes before you saw it. We all end up coming home cranky and behind!

Sometimes I try to imagine how much more time people had to just think their own thoughts back a hundred or two hundred years ago. Without phones, tvs, radios, advertising, junk mail, cell phones, emails, BLOGS, etc.

Wouldn't life be more peaceful?




Possibly more boring but there would be TIME to sit outside on the fence rail and just feel the wind blow on your face as you think deeply about the latest novel you had hours to read.



Or time to stare at the cows with your brother.

But then again, I just don't think I'd want to live without toilet paper.

Living books for children

Once upon a time there were three little kittens, and their names were Mittens, Tom Kitten, and Moppet. They had dear little fur coats of their own; and they tumbled about the doorstep and played in the dust. But one day their mother Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit expected friends to tea; so she fetched the kittens indoors, to wash and dress them, before the fine company arrived.


(I love this picture. I can remember what it feels like to be Moppet getting your face cleaned with a napkin, and now I am Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit wiping faces. Don't you just love the look on Moppet's face!)

Then she brushed their fur, (this one is Mittens).



Mrs. Tabitha dressed Moppet and Mittens in clean pinafores and tuckers; and then she took all sorts of elegant uncomfortable clothes out of a chest of drawers, in order to dress up her son Thomas.

(Oh boy, can I relate to poor little Tom Kitten!)

When the three kittens were ready, Mrs. Tabitha unwisely turned them out into the garden, to be out of the way while she made hot buttered toast. "Now keep your frocks clean, children! You must walk on your hind legs. Keep away from the dirty ash-pit, and from Sally Henny Penny, and from the pig-stye and the Puddle-Ducks."

Moppet and Mittens walked down the garden path unsteadily. Presently they trod upon their pinafores and fell on their noses. When they stood up there were several green smears! Let us climb up the rockery, and sit on the garden wall," said Moppet.

They turned their pinafores back to front, and went up with a skip and a jump; Moppet's white tucker fell down into the road.

Tom Kitten was quite unable to jump when walking upon his hind legs in trousers. He came up the rockery by degrees, breaking the ferns, and shedding buttons right and left. He was all in pieces when he reached the top of the wall. Moppet and Mittens tried to pull him together; his hat fell off, and the rest of his buttons burst.

While they were in difficulties, there was a pit pat paddle pat! and the three Puddle-Ducks came along the hard high road, marching one behind the other and doing the goose step - pit pat paddle pat! Pit pat waddle pat! They stopped and stood in a row, and stared up at the kittens. They had very small eyes and looked surprised. Then the two duck-birds, Rebeccah and Jemima Puddle-Duck, picked up the hat and tucker and put them on.

Mittens laughed so that she fell off the wall. Moppet and Tom descended after her; the pinafores and all the rest of Tom's clothes came off on the way down. "Come! Mr. Drake Puddle-Duck," said Moppet "Come and help us to dress him! Come and button up Tom!"

Mr Drake Puddle-Duck advanced in a slow sideways manner, and picked up the various articles. But he put them on himself! They fitted him even worse than Tom Kitten. "It's a very fine morning!" said Mr. Drake Puddle-Duck. And he and Jemima and Rebeccah Puddle-Duck set off up the road, keeping step - pit pat, paddle pat! pit pat, waddle pat!

Then Tabitha Twitchit came down the garden and found her kittens on the wall with no clothes on. She pulled them off the wall, smacked them, and took them back to the house. "My friends will arrive in a minute, and you are not fit to be seen; I am affronted," said Mrs. Tabitha Twitchit.

And I think that some day I shall have to make another, larger, book, to tell you more about Tom Kitten!

As for the Puddle-Ducks - they went into a pond. The clothes all came off directly, because there were no buttons. And Mr. Drake Puddle-Duck, and Jemima and Rebeccah, have been looking for them ever since.

When you consider the contrast between Mrs. Potter's books and the current twaddle that is presented to the children of our age it is pitiful. I go to the library and sift through dull, dumbed-down books, often with a politically correct message they are trying to foist upon my children. These, in my mind, are a waste of our children's time. Where are the good, simple stories for children? Any current Disney movie "for children" is just adult/teen attitudes, or should I say bad attitudes in cartoon form. Apparently, if it's a cartoon, no matter what the content, it's for kids. I'm tired of it. Our children are children, for heaven's sake. Childhood is a time of innocence. It's okay to protect that. That is why God gave children parents.

Back to books, I only have so much time to read aloud to my children. I will not waste those precious moments on garbage. Why not build their vocabulary, show them beautiful art (lovingly drawn by the author) and read a wonderfully crafted wholesome story all at once. That, my friend, is multi-tasking at it's best!

For more information on living books, HomeHearts has alot of good information to browse through. Grab a cup of tea and enjoy!

Understood Betsy

It was a warm, dark evening in late May, with the frogs piping their sweet, high note, and the first of the fireflies wheeling over the wet meadows near the tumble-down house where 'Lias lived. The girls took turns in carrying the big paper-wrapped bundle, and stole along in the shadow of the trees, full of excitement, looking over their shoulders at nothing and pressing their hands over their mouths to keep back the giggles. There was, of course, no reason on earth why they should giggle, which is, of course, the very reason why they did. If you've ever been a little girl you know about that.

One window of the small house was dimly lighted, they found, when they came in sight of it, and they thrilled with excitement and joyful alarm. Suppose 'Lias's dreadful stepfather should come out and yell at them! They came forward on tiptoe, making a great deal of noise by stepping on twigs, rustling bushes, crackling gravel under their feet and doing all the other things that make such a noise at night and never do in the daytime. But nobody stirred inside the room with the lighted window. They crept forward and peeped cautiously inside . . . and stopped giggling. The dim light coming from the little kerosene lamp with a smoky chimney fell on a dismal, cluttered room, a bare, greasy wooden table, and two broken-backed chairs, with little 'Lias in one of them. He had fallen asleep with his head on his arms, his pinched, dirty, sad little figure showing in the light from the lamp. His feet dangled high above the floor in their broken, muddy shoes. One sleeve was torn to the shoulder. A piece of dry bread had slipped from his bony little hand and a tin dipper stood beside him on the bare table. Nobody else was in the room, nor evidently in the darkened, empty, fireless house.

As long as she lives Betsy will never forget what she saw that night through that window. Her eyes grew very hot and her hands very cold. Her heart thumped hard. She reached for little Molly and gave her a great hug in the darkness. Suppose it were little Molly asleep there, all alone in the dirty, dismal house, with no supper and nobody to put her to bed. She found that Ellen, next her, was crying quietly into the corner of her apron.

Nobody said a word. Stashie, who had the bundle, walked around soberly to the front door, put it down, and knocked loudly. They all darted away noiselessly to the road, to the shadow of the trees, and waited until the door opened. A square of yellow light appeared, with 'Lias's figure, very small, at the bottom of it. They saw him stoop and pick up the bundle and go back into the house. Then they went quickly and silently back, separating at the cross-roads with no good-night greetings.


You can read the entire book online by going to The Baldwin Project. Although I doubt anyone would want to do that. It's so much more enjoyable to sprawl on the floor or couch with an actual book. I like to read a chapter or two a day to the kids. Or as many as I can stay awake for! More often it is a half to one chapter.

I've gotten many books on tape or cd from the library for the kids. Those are great for building a child's vocabulary, but I think you miss something by hearing the whole story in one sitting.

Suspense.

It's enjoyable to let the story build and ruminate in our minds, to wonder what will happen to little 'Lias tomorrow when he comes to school with the new clothes Betsy and her 'sewing society' made secretly for the poor little ragamuffin with no mother and only a mean ole' drunkard stepfather. Will Mr. Pond see him all cleaned up and take him home?

We'll find out tomorrow.

You see...suspense.

It's a journey we take together. We share inside jokes and comments relating to the story we are reading, or have read. It's not plopping them down in front of a kids' video, they in their own world and me in mine. It's living life together. Enjoying the trip.



Below is an excerpt of Harvey and Laurie Bluedorn's article Ten Things to Do with your child Before Age Ten regarding reading aloud to children.

Hearing and Listening

By reading aloud to your child, he learns the sound of words, he increases his vocabulary, he enlarges his conceptions of the world, and he develops his imagination. We suggest that you read to your child at least two hours a day. Read from a wide variety of good literature, biographies, and historical fiction. Include books on science, geography, art, music, and history.

Three do nots: Do not be afraid to read to young children books with long chapters. A five year old is capable of attending to and understanding much of such books as Treasure Island or Journey to the Center of the Earth. Do not waste your time reading "fast-food" type books (e.g. Babysitter Club books or Nancy Drew mysteries). Do not require your children to sit beside you on the couch perfectly still while you read. As long as they stayed in the room and were not distracting or interrupting, we allowed our children to play quietly with their toys or to work on cross-stitching or to draw or some similar quiet project, while we read aloud. Many children listen much better when they are doing something with their hands — indeed, it seems some little boys cannot sit still long enough to listen unless they are holding something. Some parents combine narration with read aloud times.

We do not often read aloud in one uninterrupted two-hour-long stretch. We read some in the morning, some in the afternoon, and some at night. There are notable exceptions. I remember one day when we read The Long Winter by Laura Ingles Wilder in one long stretch, skipping everything else which would interrupt our reading the day away.

Reading aloud is my favorite part of homeschooling. How many others have had this experience: I am sitting on the couch (a chair would never do) reading a good book, such as Men of Iron by Howard Pyle. One child sits on my right, and one child sits on my left, and one child sits on the back of the couch behind my neck, and one child sits on my lap. The fifth child has to make do. Everyone must to be situated, just so, in order to see all of the pictures — which must be examined minutely before the page is turned. This is one of the ways God taught me patience. Let them look at the pictures and ask their questions. We will eventually find out who wins the joust. Last year, my oldest daughter, Johannah, painted this cosy scene for us, collaging photos from long ago, putting us all into one memorable picture. I was wearing braids and sitting on that old brown couch which long ago met the rubbish pile after much good use. If I could have just an hour of that time again, right now, I would gladly read Corduroy fifteen times in a row and not complain.

When I read a book which includes dialog written in a dialect, I try to imitate the foreign accent. This tends to spill over into other conversations — even when answering the phone. The children are embarrassed when we drive into the McDonald's drive through, and I order the hamburgers in a Scottish brogue.