Wordless Wednesday: Caught Reading...

Ignore the blink, he was reading this.
For fun.
While on Semester Break.

and I couldn't resist a picture of The Adventurer,
who knows that breaks are for playing.

Fall Break!!

whew! We did it!! We survived the exams, all the grades are in except for Geometry, and our first semester of on-line school is over!!!! yay!!!

Assuming a passing grade on the Geometry exam (and I have no reason to think it won't be), The Writer will finish the semester with 3 As and 2 Bs. We are so stinkin' proud of him!!!  He has worked so hard, and now, time for a much-deserved, hard-earned break!

The Artist finished science; we're waiting on that grade still but expect an A. Hooray!! He has a few weeks of English left, because the school did not release the new English course at the same time and so that course doesn't finish up until early May. I  have checked his schedule, and he will be able to take the next three weeks off with us and then pick up English and finish it; he'll just have to work later at the end of next semester to finish that English course.

So, a three week break. Wow. We'll start our 2nd semester right after Easter.  Meanwhile, I'll be busy sewing and quilting and organizing/decluttering, and I trust the boys will find things to keep themselves busy as well.

Hope your school year is going well!

Exam Update

Well, half way through the week and The Writer has finished 3 of his 5 exams.  We are all feeling a little less intimidated, thank goodness.

We had a minor snafu with the Geometry exam -- the school sent our Proctor a printable exam, which the Proctor printed and administered to The Writer. He used a #2 pencil, as instructed, which turns out to have been a bad idea.

The Proctor had to scan in the exam and email it back to the school. Pencil doesn't show up well in a scan, so we're waiting to hear back from the school how to fix it --- can he, in the presence of the Proctor, trace over his answers in pen and rescan it? Will they instead send out another exam for him to retake? We have no idea.

Of course, this morning I checked his Geometry grades (why I didn't do this yesterday is beyond me), hoping that even though I'd not received the standard emails letting me know the chapters had been graded, that maybe the grades were there anyway.

They were.

Including a grade for the review exercise, which was very similar to the final exam.

The review itself was just a completion grade, but the teacher is going to send out a step-by-step correction to every single problem so that The Writer can check over every problem, follow along, make corrections and study for the exam.

The exam he took yesterday before I saw that this email will be coming.

The exam that is sort of already turned in, because The Proctor sent in the illegible scan, to find out what the school wants us to do to fix said scan.

Why oh why oh why didn't I check this yesterday?????

(sigh)

Oh well. What's done is done, and I did look over his review before we turned it in, and I don't think he did poorly on the review. Which means, if he did the exam in the same fashion, he probably did okay. He has exactly a 90 average so far in Geometry, pending the final exam. The exam is worth 25% of his final grade, so if he passes the exam (which he must, in order to pass; it's a strange loophole the school has), he'll have an 85 overall. That's with the minimum passing grade on the exam. So, really, I think he'll be okay. I'm just kicking myself that we pushed ahead and thus robbed ourselves, robbed him, of this tool that would have helped him do even better.

As for the other exams, he has completed Health and World Geography. Those are partially graded already, as they were completed on-line and so the multiple choice, True/False and Matching type questions were auto-graded; his grade could increase on each one if he did well on the short-answer type questions. As it is, he did well enough on each of those exams to maintain his A average in those two classes. Yay! I am so very  proud of him!!

Today, the Biology exam. Tomorrow, English. I am feeling, and I think he is too, much more relaxed now. He is doing so very well, and I am so very proud of him. Not just for the grades, which are fantastic, but for his work ethic, his determination, and this proof of his good character above all else. The good grades are, for me, gravy.

Vulnerability....

When I signed my oldest son up for an on-line distance learning program, I didn't imagine all the emotions I'd feel about it. I knew I was relinquishing control, giving up all the good books, allowing someone else to decide what he needed to learn and what he didn't. I was, am, okay with that. It's high school, and he's still at home, so I can still chat with him about what he learns (I am so thankful he does that, chats with me about what he's learning...), and be a part of the shaping of his opinions, the forming of his world view.

It happens, right? We all, eventually, grow up and make our own decisions, sometimes ones that don't coincide neatly with what our parents want. I'm glad, then, that he includes us and that his first taste of An Outside Voice is coming while he still lives at home.

Because after High School comes college, University. And he may or may not live at home for that, depending on where we're living by then, what school he goes to, etc. But he will, without a doubt, be inundated with Different Opinions. Outside Voices. Teachers, professors, telling him What To Believe. Friends. Peers. Roommates and Suite Mates and a whole big college campus full of ideas and opinions coming at him from every which way.

I don't want that to be his first exposure to information that wasn't hand picked by me or his dad. I just don't. If I were still hand-picking all of his curriculum, carefully crafting a structure for building his world view around my world view, it would not be tested, tried, and sure by the time he leaves for college. And when those differing views come at him, fast and furious, we would not be there, his dad and I, to help him sift through what's right, what's wrong, what's in between, and why each one is what it is.

So, when I handed over control of curriculum choosing, signed him up for TTUISD, I was ready for that. I had thought it through, analyzed it, weighed it, sized it up and arrived at my conclusion: This was, is, a good thing. And it is. It has played out much like I thought -- he is beginning, now, in the safety and comfort of our home, to bounce his new ideas off of us, testing them for validity, waiting to see our reaction. Do we like this new idea of his? Are we okay with it? Is he becoming a young man we're proud of?  (he is, and we are).

What I didn't expect, wasn't prepared for, is the vulnerability. Of sending my son out into this world, not just to be hit with differing opinions as solid teachings, but opinions. Not about subject matter, but about his performance as a student. Grades. From someone else. I am finding that to be a scary feeling.

When you've been the only teacher in your child's life, ever, it's nerve wracking. Suddenly, someone else has the deciding vote, "Is he a good student? Is this assignment well done? Did he do, is he doing, a good job??"

Suddenly, because you've always ever been his only teacher, it feels like someone else is not grading just your son, but you. Did you teach him well?

Except, as we near the end of our first semester, I am more scared about how he is being judged than how I am being judged. Insecurity. Vulnerability. Wanting to see him succeed, to hear that his teachers are pleased with his work. Just like I wanted him to be liked on the playground, to make friends, just as we all want our kids to do well.

And now here we are. He has finished 3 of his six courses. He is finishing up 2 more, and will request an extension for the 6th; Art was a bit overwhelming for us. His grades at this point are all As, pending the assignments waiting to be turned in. He has such a high A in Geography that he could get a 69 on the final exam, which is worth 25% of his grade, and still have an A in the course over all. Except that he is required to pass the exam, or it doesn't count.

I'm proud of him, of how hard he's worked so far. Of the job he has done, of the work ethic he has shown.

But my heart is in my throat as he gets ready to take these exams, these first real tests of his; exams that will set his grade for the first semester that will go on a transcript that will one day be sent to colleges as he seeks admittance to their institutions.

I have no reason to think he'll do anything other than awesome, truly. But I am nervous. Insecure. Vulnerable.

Wish us me him luck.

One of the down sides of non-Mom-led schooling....

This school year we embarked on a new adventure: on-line school.  We researched several different options --- Potter's School, K12 Virtual Academy, Kolbe Academy, Connections Academy, and a few others --- before we found, and decided on, TTUISD.  TTUISD is a K through 12th on-line distance learning program run by Texas Tech University; the elementary grades are print-based, not on-line, and middle school is about half & half, while high school offers either one.

TTUISD is different from other on-line programs, in that there are no on-line lectures to attend; no video lectures to watch; no peer interaction. For many, that's a definite negative. However, the other side of that is, there are no due dates, no "you must participate in this lecture at this time" sorts of deadlines. For us, with a fluctuating time difference (we can be as few as 2 hours, or as many as 4 hours, ahead of Texas), internet service that can drop on a whim, and a travel schedule that is random and spontaneous, we saw this lack of deadlines as a plus; in fact, this was the single biggest reason we chose TTUISD over the other programs.

A semester in, I am glad we did. The flexibility has been wonderful.

What's been less than wonderful is the adjustment to a lack of a different kind of flexibility: the ability for Mom to skip any assignment that doesn't make sense, seems pointless, is redundant, etc.  Now, most of the work the boys have been assigned has been good stuff; challenging stuff. The Writer has learned to work Power Point, making several very detailed slide shows for Geography.  He's learned to research, gathering facts from various sources, filling in charts, and then using that information to write summaries and brief essays.

His health class had an extensive project, mandated by the state of Texas, about parenthood/teen parenthood.  At first glance, I felt this was a bit.....unnecessary. But as I read through the questions that his teacher composed to round out the instruction, I was impressed. She didn't just focus on statistics and she gave next to zero commentary on whether a teen ought to avoid pregnancy via abstinence or protected sex; as a Christian, I appreciated, greatly, that the content was not weighted in either direction. Instead, the content of this unit focused on the numerous natural consequences of teen pregnancy; things like budgeting for a baby, determining paternity, paying child support, and even various decisions a parent has to make throughout the life of a child, from newborn to high school graduate, which I think really helped drive home the fact that a baby is a life long thing. A project that I at first wanted him to skip, but proved to be well-written and worthwhile.

Science and math haven't had too many outside projects, though both are well done courses. English, however, has had several. Writing is a big part of his English course, and it's been....interesting. His current project is one I would skip, if it were up to me.  He's read Romeo & Juliet, and over the course of reading it he's answered multiple quizzes to show he understands the plot, understands the language, understands the significance of various quotes in the play, etc. In other words, the unit on Romeo & Juliet was thorough. Very. So the final project for this unit seems redundant and unnecessary:  compile a sound track for the play.

Not only does he have to choose 2 songs to accompany every Act of the play, as well as an introductory song and a concluding song, but he also has to tell where each song fits --- Act, Scene & Lines. Then he has to write an "8 to 10 sentence paragraph" explaining what is happening in this scene in the play, what is happening in the song, and how the song & scene fit together. For every song. He also has to include the lyrics, and make a cover-art for the album.

I understand that the teacher is wanting to make double, triple sure that the students really understand Romeo & Juliet. I understand that she's trying to relate it to something that clicks with most teenagers -- music. I get it; I really do. But my son is not most teenagers, and he does not listen to music much at all.

If we were still actually home schooling, I would have him write me an essay about Romeo & Juliet, showing that he understands the plot, themes, etc. I would not make him tie it to modern music, particularly not with his perfectionist bent.  His father and I have helped him decide on songs, and he is now writing up his required paragraphs. He keeps balking, though, because a line here or there in the song doesn't fit 100% with the story of the chosen scene in the play. He wants the lyrics to be a perfect match; I understand this, I'm the same way.

When I chose what song to play at my wedding, my gift to my husband, I skipped over songs that held sentimental value because they did not *perfectly* describe us. I listened to every single wedding tape I could find at a local bookstore, painstakingly listening to every lyric of every song until I found one that said exactly what I wanted to say. Trouble is, I've lost that tape and have no idea what song I played for my husband, at our wedding. No idea whatsoever.

Now my son is doing the same thing with this play project. He wants the lyrics to be perfect. The problem is, there aren't 12 songs out there written exactly for Romeo & Juliet, so no song is going to fit exactly. They just won't. It's his job to take the song lyrics and the scene and explain how they do fit, not worry about how they don't.

Six songs in, he's getting it, but this is not an easy project for him, at all. I wish I could just let him skip it. I really do. He understands the play, very well. He writes beautifully, so he really doesn't need the writing practice. In fact, he's having to write more poorly than normal, because of the sentence requirement. He likes to write lengthy sentences, and for this assignment he is having to chop them up into smaller ones. His teacher sort of hyper-focuses on whether or not the students meet the technical requirements of any given writing assignment, so while he could write perfectly legitimate and thorough paragraphs for each song, if they are not exactly "8 to 10 sentences" and in one paragraph, he'll lose points. A lot of points. He is pouring as much effort into that sentence count as he is into the content of his paper, which saddens me. Greatly.

If I could, I'd ditch the whole project and not require it. But I can't. I'm only the mom now, not the teacher, which means my job shifts from deciding what he does to ensuring he does his best at whatever he's been assigned, even the mundane and redundant.

A down-side, for sure. Not a big enough con to have us switch programs, but something to be aware of if on-line school is something you are considering.

Progress....

"Slow and steady wins the race...." --- this has become my mantra as I adjust to schooling my youngest, recently diagnosed with a whole laundry list of learning differences. I'm learning to notice and cherish all the little signs of progress, because this is going to be a long road.

Yesterday was one of those days with the ever elusive "progress."

Roughly ten days ago, I started working through All About Spelling (AAS) with The Adventurer, one of the things we're doing as we slowly but surely work towards literacy.  One aspect of AAS is teaching the phonograms; that is, showing a card with a letter on it, and having the child learn (and memorize) the sounds represented by that letter.

As we're learning English, the vowels especially have many sounds, and when we started this, The Adventurer knew 10 phonograms. Out of the 26 letters, and all the sounds those represent, he knew ten. Here we are ten days later and he's moved two more letters (and 5 more sounds) to the mastery section, and almost gained a 3rd letter (with 4 sounds) as well. yay! I'm beyond thrilled with this, but that's not the progress I wanted to share.

Another aspect of AAS is having the child segment words into individual sounds. If you think about segmenting words into syllables, you're almost there. Now take it a step further and think about isolating every individual sound. For example, the word "go" can be segmented into /g/-/o/; the word "dog" into /d/-/o/-/g/.

AAS starts with "2-sound words" --- things like go, do, to, see, be, of, etc. --- and then moves onto "3-sound words." In the beginning, the child is handed two (and then three) little tokens, small plastic discs, one for each sound. The teacher (aka, me) speaks the word, then the child repeats the word followed by each sound of the word. As the child says the individual sounds, he pulls a token down towards himself as a way of putting a physical component to the exercise and really making the idea of "separate sounds" something concrete, tangible.  Later on, letter tiles will replace the tokens and the child will pull the right letters; we're not there yet, though.

Ten or so days ago, when I started this, The Adventurer struggled with separating out the individual sounds even in "2-sound words."  I modeled for him, several times, and we did a series of 5 words per day for two or three days before he was really catching on and able to pull tokens with the separate sounds. Once he got it, though, he really got it. Suddenly we flew through the whole 20 word list, and then the next 20 word list, and he looked at me with his, "This is so boring, Mom...." look that tells me he's really mastered it and it's time to move on. So we did.

Three-sound words were next, and I prepped myself for a slow start, just like we'd had with the two-sound words. It had, after all, taken a week to get to mastery of that, and I wasn't sure he could isolate beginning, middle, ending sound of a word.

But he did.

Right away, first word I gave him. I showed him one example, "pig -- /p/-/i/-/g/, pig" and he took it from there. He was so bored that at first he pulled tokens in the wrong order, going right to left instead of left to right, but I gently reminded him that when we read, we read left to right so he needed to pull the tokens in that order, too. It's a concrete reminder of first/middle/last, so it's important he go in order. Five or so words into it, he was doing that as well.

He blew through the entire 25 word list. Without a single error, hesitation, mistake....just perfectly segmented every word I gave him.

Wow. Progress. These are the moments I cherish.

Let the censoring begin....

In fifteen+ years of parenting, I have never, not once, told any of my children that they were not allowed to read a certain book. Ever. It is just not something I've ever felt I had to do.

Partly because we are pretty liberal with what we allow:  I don't mind make-believe, even of the magical, wizardy sort. Or of the killing bad guys sort. Or really any type of make-believe, at all. Because, well, make believe is exactly that -- made up. Not real. And I think most kids understand that difference, even if they later run around acting out scenes from the make believe.

I know, for instance, that my boys know that pointing a stick and yelling, "Expeliarmus!" at their brothers will not, in fact, cause the brother(s) to drop whatever they are using for a wand. Even when an indulging big brother pretends that the fake spell did, in fact, work, I know that the little brother still knows it is all pretend.

So I don't mind them delving into fantasy, and adventure tales, and worlds of talking cats and half-blood kids who are part Greek gods, and wand-wielding teenagers, and what have you. I don't. Even when sometimes they come to me and report that this wonderful series has a bad word (or three) in it.

But today my oldest was found reading a book that gave me pause. For the first time in my parenting career, ever. He is of an age where make-believe has given way to realism, where the tales he picks up are firmly rooted in reality, giving a version of real life, of what is, not what could maybe be. Suddenly, this makes a difference.

What an uncomfortable place this is for me.

I have a deeply ingrained belief that censorship is wrong. Period. And I've let that color my parenting; I'm the parent who goes out and buys the books from the Banned Books list, who scoffs at those who allow X while prohibiting Y. I'm eating my words a little bit today.

You see, this book that my boy wanted to read -- had, in fact, started to read -- portrays a slice of reality that I just don't think he's ready for. More importantly, what finally pushed me to flat out tell him he's not allowed to read this book just yet, is that he showed me he's not ready for it yet.

As I explained to him the many things about the book that made me uncomfortable, the many things which I knew would also make him uncomfortable, my son portrayed a bit of innocence about these topics.  Okay, a lot of innocence. Innocence that I was touched to see, but that confirmed to me that this book is not the proper book for stripping that innocence away.

I'm not trying to shield him forever. I know that he will, gradually, come to an awareness of all the topics in this book. And I'm okay with that. But I am not okay with handing him this book to strip all of that away at once.

I can't explain all of the whys about this; it comes down to one thing. My gut, which never ever says "you can't read that!", screamed at me this time, loud and clear. When I saw the book in his hand, I was gripped with....something. Not fear, it wasn't that, but a deep-seated discomfort. And that never happens to me. I don't say no to books. Ever.

Until now. Because old enough, mature enough, nearly adult enough -- all of that might be true. But so is still innocent enough; innocent enough that this book would pull back a curtain he's not ready to peek behind. And as his mom, it's my job to keep that curtain closed a little bit longer; to give him permission, in the guise of my prohibition, to not peek yet.

And that's a more comfortable place, for both of us, even though it's a parenting first I never imagined having.