I would like to say that after so many years of unschooling, it is easy now to trust, to embrace the sometimes jerky starts and stops, the sudden braking when you thought you were accelerating and vice versa. I would like to claim I have learned better, but I am still guilty of embracing those old straight roads of my past. I am tempted to say to my son, “Just let me take you there. I will do the hard part. I’ll keep driving; you just tell me where you want to go.”
Tuesday, December 09, 2014
My new entry is up at home/school/life. You can run right over and read the whole thing here.
Monday, December 01, 2014
"Back when I used to believe I was an alien..." my son said.
I was glad he brought it up, because I've often wondered what he remembers of the elaborate tales he used to tell us of the "planet he came from" before he joined us. He was in the 3-5 age range when he would tell these stories.
First, I had to ask if he actually believed he was an alien.
He said, "Oh no. I just liked to imagine that I was and tell stories about it. But, I did used to think that when I closed my eyes and saw those green circles that it meant I was important and doing something really special to fulfill my destiny. Then I realized that’s just what you saw if you rubbed your eyes real hard. Now I think I’m important for other reasons.”
He wouldn't elaborate, but I was entertained.