We’re wrapping up school for the year.
Whew. It’s been a doozy. Sterling and Ruby have a week or two of math left, and both have two weeks or spelling left. They both, along with Charlotte and Pierce, have handwriting through the summer since we started a new curriculum later in the year, but Charlie and Pierce are done with everything other than that. Liberty and Eden have co-op classes and then will have wrapped up everything this coming week.
It’s been the hardest year to date, for so many reasons. Schooling six is not for the faint of heart. I had a lot of days I wasn’t so sure I wasn’t feeling faint.
But. Pierce is reading. Fluently.
Amen. The year has been a success.
Sterling and Ruby can diagram sentences almost flawlessly. I have succeeded.
Charlie can recite the preposition list like nobody’s business. Applying that knowledge has yet to occur, but that will come.
Liberty and Eden have learned all sorts of things that I’m not sure I even know. They can spin algebra equasions that I’d never attempt. I’m… sure that will be useful for them. If nothing else, they can teach their own children such facts.
All the children spew WW1 and WW2 facts like it was the most exciting time in history. I think to them, it was. Exciting. Revolting. Riveting.
Elliot has learned to spell ‘Elliot’. And ‘Jesus’. She just can’t remember which one is which. “Ellie, spell your name.”
“J, e, s-u-s!”
Yeah, good times.
Stellan has learned to walk. Talk, just a little. Sign language, quite a lot. And eat. Dear me, can that boy eat. The standing joke is that he eats every twenty minutes. Except it’s the honest truth. Today, he ate…
- A bagel
- 2 apple wedges
- 8 grapes
- 2 applesauce pouches
- 1 bag of crackers
- Another bagel
- 2 biscuits
- ½ pork chop w/gravy
- ½ cup rice
- 1 cup peas
- A cereal bar
- Numerous baby carrots
- 14 oz milk
He grazes. Finds a bagel someone didn’t finish. Begs for my coffee. And yet, he’s a mini. 20ish lbs. Pretty sure he has inherited Blaine’s metabolism.
And so, we have survived. Thrived, even. I bear a good number of gray hairs after this last year. And I have high hopes that, as the school year ends, my house will be cleaner again. Laundry washed, dried, folded, and put away all in the same day. That I won’t find shoes in the toy box or kitchen scissors in the grass.
High hopes, my friends. High hopes.