Dads Make the Best Fishermen

I met Bryan the day before I started my Junior year at SFA.  He was a transfer student from A&M (I tried not to hold that against him), he drove a little blue truck, and he had an iguana (which, well was just weird).   We began our courtship in our little world of college life that obviously led to our marriage.  During our months of dating, he may have mentioned he liked to fish.  To me that meant he had a pole and maybe a tackle box and every now and then, went fishing.  It wasn't until after the wedding that I saw how mistaken I had been.  This man was serious about fishing.  A different pole for every....I don't know, bait I guess?  A tackle box the size of our dresser, a rather odd and kind of feminine looking shirt with a net on it...??  I went fishing with him one day, thinking as only a newly-wed could, that this would be a day filled with deep discussions and new discoveries of this man I had married.   Apparently, there is really no talking while fishing.  It could scare the fish away.

Since that day,  I have not pretended to show any interest in fishing.   Many times I have watched him get ready for a fishing trip--taking out all 25 of his poles, unrolling and winding up the line, casting them in the yard (sometimes the living room in front of the tv), and examining all 300 plastic worms, jiggly things and bobbers out of his big tackle box.  I would just stare in wonder (ok, and maybe a little annoyance).   

But now I look at him in a new way.  I watch my super serious fisherman, the one who doesn't want to scare the fish away, who needs total concentration to cast and drag and whatever, put aside his needs and invite our boys into his world.  Three boys who I think we all can imagine are NOT quiet while they fish.  Who have to argue and bicker just a bit.  Who I know will whine when they are bored, hungry, hot, cold, or tired.  I've been around my youngest enough to know that he can break anything in a matter of seconds, my middle would rather be playing video games, and the older will probably tell Bryan what they should be doing to catch more fish.  I can't imagine how many times he has had to put down his pole to untangle or 'unhang' line from a tree branch or has tripped over all of their tackle boxes filled with plastic thingies.  But he does it.  Over and over again.  And although I can't speak for him, I'm pretty certain that he thinks it's all worth it.

Jumping in with Eight Feet

  Last year my youngest went to kindergarten.  They were now all in school--I had time to myself for the first time in 11 years.  It was....incredible.  My life was calming down, I could breathe, hear myself think, meet a friend for lunch, spend time with my mom, and even go grocery shopping during the day by myself.  Any stay-at-home mom knows how these are all luxuries.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, God put on my heart to take them out of school and homeschool them.  All three of them.   How could I do that?  Why would anyone do that?  To themselves or their kids?!  But, you really can't argue with God.  So, to the computer I went.  Spending hours of research on the topic of why and how to even get started.  I read many books and talked with the few people I knew who were avid homeschoolers.

 Curriculum...seriously I couldn't even spell that word when I began typing it in the google search (didn't really boost my confidence in my abilities as a teacher)--there must be a million different ones all with different methods.  A common question from books and the friends who helped me, "How does your child best learn?"  This stumped me since I had never really taught them anything, they learned it at school right?  The only thing I'd ever done was help with homework, which if these agonizing afternoon sessions were any indication of what my life would be like, was enough to shut the whole thing down.  After months of researching, I picked out everything I would use for the Fall.  School let out in June, we said good-bye to our schools (apparently all you need to do in Texas is send an e-mail letting them know) and the boys said good-bye to their friends.

As we told family and friends of our decision, there were many questions:  What will your day look like?  How long will school last?  How will they make friends?  My sweet, teacher sister-in-law asked me questions the whole 3 hour ride to our family vacation.  I didn't sleep for a week.  I didn't have any of the answers anyone asked!  I joined a homeschool support group during the Summer.  As people heard my story, they would say "You are starting with 3?  All 3?"  Yes, I was.  I didn't start with just the oldest and then add them as they came up.  All 3 at the very same time.

Our first official day was August 1st (it was too hot to be outside anyway).  We have had good weeks and bad weeks.  They've cried and I've cried.  But one day as I sat on our living room floor and all 4 of us were making flowers out of clay-- and not just flowers but flowers with all of the boy and girl parts-- I realized how cool my kids are, how kind, helpful and encouraging they were to each other and to me.  How they all love science and are awesome at making clay flowers. I've discovered my youngest only likes non-fiction books and my older two are great writers.   The middle one rocks at making comics and the oldest can do fractions in his head (causing me great stress as I can't see what is in his head).  I'm getting to see into their little minds like I haven't before and it feels....well, pretty amazing:)