I open my phone to google ‘smoky or smokey’ to find out the correct spelling of this word. (I’ve been using it a lot lately.) And I find a warning waiting for me to read. (It arrived in the night…
My daughter Charlotte used to be openly enthusiastic about everything. Every evening she’d be eager to tell me about all the things she’d discovered that day. She’d listen to my ideas and ask for resources. Then things changed. During the…
I’m sure there are many people investigating unschooling. But not everyone who considers unschooling will actually decide to give it a go. Why’s that? What holds people back? Do they like the sound of some aspects of unschooling but…
“Can we have another chapter of Heidi, please Mum?” begs Sophie. It’s the third time I’ve been asked that question today. “If you make me a cup of coffee and get the book ready, I’ll be there in a minute.” The girls…
Erin wrote: What does the idea of homemaking mean to you? Is it a certain skill set or talent? Does it need to look or happen a certain way, or is it a flexible term? What role does homemaking play…
I’ve created a monster, a huge blog that needs a lot of maintenance. It’s sucking up my money and time and giving me headaches. Frequently, this blog falls apart or runs so slowly that readers give up waiting for new pages to appear. I understand how visitors might get frustrated. Some days, even I don’t want to go anywhere near my blog. I’m tempted to hit the delete button to eliminate all the problems I don’t want to fix. I’ve…
When I was eleven, a girl at school asked, “What’s your favourite song?” Looking back, I realise her question was a trap. Of course, I fell straight into it. “Delilah,” I replied, plucking a random song out of my memory. “Delilah?” “Yes. Tom Jones.” The girl smirked and shouted over her shoulder to her friends, “Sue likes Delilah!” As I listened to the girls’ laughter, I realised that Tom Jones wasn’t cool. His music belonged to our parents’ time. I…
I was once a cool kid. And then I wasn’t. When I was nine, I was clever and lively, one of the kids who got noticed. Best of all, I was part of a girl band that performed on the concrete ‘stage’ behind the toilet block in the school playground each lunchtime. I couldn’t sing very well, but somehow I was accepted. And many girls in my class envied me. Not everyone could belong to our band. Then something…
My husband Andy returned to work today after two weeks at home. Holiday time is over. We’ve now moved into term time. A whole term of possibility days stretches before me. I’m free to do whatever I like with my time while Andy is at school. My eyes light up with delight. But then I remember there are many things I must do that I may not want to do. I have housework, dinner making and dog walking to…
We don’t make rules in our family, so how do my children know what is right and what is wrong, if they aren’t guided by clearly stated limits? Do I believe my own quiet example of appropriate behaviour is all that is needed in order to influence my children? Perhaps I stand back, hands-off, and let my children behave as they choose? I decide to ponder a few ideas with my children, in an attempt to find the answers to…
Every Saturday, while my husband, youngest daughter and dogs are still in bed, I sit on the living room sofa, journal on my knee, scrawny cat by my side, and by the light of a lamp in the pre-dawn dark, do my Saturday examen. I reflect on the week just passed, remembering the highlights, the low points, the successes and failures, and the little delights. I feel grateful, thankful, blessed, forgiving, and contrite. I think of the week ahead.…
Did Erin Patterson murder three people with her beef Wellington? Did she use toxic death cap mushrooms in her deadly dinner? Many people worldwide have been waiting for answers to these questions. Some media dubbed Patterson’s trial as The Mushroom Murders as if there was no question she was guilty, and maybe most people assumed she was. The evidence seemed strong for the prosecution. When questioned, Erin Patterson said she wanted to cook something special for her unfortunate guests. So,…
Yesterday evening, like all Sunday evenings, my kids who live locally came to dinner. Six of us gathered around our dining room table, savouring a meal cooked by my husband while enjoying the usual end-of-the-week lively catch-up conversation. There was a time when we dreamed that all our children would buy houses on the same street as our family home. They’d move one by one, just a few houses away, so that we could gather at each other’s tables and…
There are many unschool maths questions. Here are just a few of them: Can kids really learn maths without formal instruction? What does unschooling maths look like? Can we strew unschool maths? Is it possible for registered homeschoolers to unschool maths? How can we provide evidence kids are learning maths when we don’t have formal records like workbooks and test…
There are loads of unschooling questions we could ask about learning: How do we know unschooling kids are learning? Should they be learning particular things? Is there knowledge that all kids need? Are our unschooled kids learning enough? Can they get behind? Should we just trust our kids are learning? But what if we have doubts? Or what if we…
What if kids want to watch the same movies, read the same stories, or play the same games again and again? Should we try to move them on to other activities? Or is there value in repetition? Does repetition have an important role in our lives?…
She was tempted to aim low, afraid to risk failure, but she knew she shouldn’t settle for ordinary. More was expected. So she gathered her courage, did what she should, and life got exciting. And she changed. How often do we aim low because we’re too afraid to risk disappointment or failure? We want to stay where it’s comfortable and…
When I was a teenager, I was one of those not-worth-a-second-glance kids. I lived on the fringes of the crowd. I was neither popular nor cool. With my long red hair parted into two pigtails, my very freckled face, my bony knees, and sensible clothes, I was positively ordinary. One day at school I was grabbed by the arm. “Come…