Bloopers

Our first week of homeschooling this year was a fabulous one, despite the bloopers.  These, I think will be the things that make the year memorable.


Blooper #1:  The Noun Box.

We are using First Language Lessons by Jessie Wise.  I really wanted to use Learning Language Arts through Literature but the frugalista in me found the $10 half.com copy of First Language Lessons too hard to pass up.  TWO years of language for $10....  I figured I could spruce it up where needed.

The sprucing up started so well.  We memorized the definition of a noun and set out to make noun boxes.  I mixed some homemade clay, we rolled it out, and used cookie cutters to create people (gingerbread men), places (Christmas trees for a forest), things, and ideas (hearts for "love"). We would let the clay dry, decorate shoe boxes, put our lovely clay nouns inside, and bring out our fabulous creations for future lessons. The clay was to dry overnight.  It didn't.  Two days later it was still soggy.  (Could have something to do with the fact that I LOVE heat and hadn't turned on the air conditioner despite the hot and humid summer days.)  So, when we were throwing a pizza in the oven, I thought, "Let's just put in the nouns as well."  NOT such a great idea:

 So, ummmm,  maybe we'll just do  a notebooking page.

Blooper #2:  Binoculars, Backpacks, and a Tutu

My goal is to do a nature walk once a week this school year.  I love stuff like this - getting the kids outdoors and learning by touching, looking, and gathering.  I figured we'd do a laid back walk the first week and told the kids we were going to be explorers and find things to explore on the bike path that runs through our town.

I gave the kids a list of things to put in their backpacks, and they excitedly ran about collecting binoculars, magnifying glasses, a camera, jars for bugs, notebooks, colored pencils, and water bottles.  They were so excited.  At the last minute, I realized my four-year-old had on a pink tutu.  It's kind of like her uniform.  We have three tutus and a sparkly pink leotard.  She just rotates through them.

"You should probably put on some other clothes,"   I suggested.  "Your tutu might get dirty."

"But, Mom, I want to look beautiful for our walk."  Her lower lip trembled.

Oh, well.  It wasn't like we were going to be digging in the mud.  "Fine.  Just put on a pair of shorts with it."

She put on pink shorts and a tiara.  We were set.

It was a beautiful summer day made even better by the fact that my husband was able to join us for the walk.  I assigned the kids the task of gathering or sighting at least five things a piece for us to observe.  And then disaster #1 struck.  Sierra realized that in order to get onto the trail we had to go through a narrow hedge of bushes that might possibly snag her tutu.  After giving her the choice to sit in the car with me or carry on with the adventure, she bravely gritted her teeth and stepped daintily through to the trail.

Five minutes later she had to pee.  Dad offered to take her off into the woods since I had the baby in the front pack. She was a bit wary about the proposition since her last forage into the woods to pee had ended up in a really bad case of poison ivy in places unmentionable here.  And the danger to her tutu was even greater off the trail.  If only she knew what was to come.  Somehow my dear husband did not manage to get the tutu out of the line of fire, and it got covered in pee.  Tragedy had truly struck at this point.  She refused to come out of the woods topless and sat howling in frustration among what I could only hope was NOT more poison ivy.  The passersbyers were all treated to a faceless voice screaming, "I'm naked in here!  I won't come out.  And now my tutu is ripped, torn, ruined!"  (She  heard the line "ripped, torn, ruined" in a Nate the Great book and has since taken it as her own lament in circumstances of utter tragedy and ruin.)  My son generously stripped off his shirt and crashed through the brambles to offer it to her.  "It doesn't match my shorts!!!!" she screamed.

My patience had run out by this point and my husband and son both looked equally crestfallen at the prospect of adventures cut short.  I decided I had better step in.  "Put on Logan's shirt and get out here."  It was my best "do-it-now-or-else" voice.

"No!"

"Is that really the answer you want to give me?  Because if I have to come in there and get you out you will NOT like the consequences!"

It worked.  Thankfully.  I had no idea what I would do if I had to go in after her.  Sobbing she put on her brother's yellow shirt and exited, her hair a mess, tiara askew, and face a muddy mixture of tears and dirt.  She refused to walk further with her mismatched clothes, so we girls made our way back to the car while the guys finished their adventure.

There were no great science lessons learned or fabulous collectibles to display, but we did get outside and, hey, our nature walks can only get better from here on out!