Written by Rachel Wolf of Clean and LuSa Organics

A note from Jamie: Can’t believe it’s been over 10 years ago that this post from Rachel first published…I felt like someone out there might just need to hear this today, too! xo

Lately I’ve been reflecting on how our relationships change when we become parents.

My relationship to my husband, myself, my community, and my friends transformed on account of parenthood.

And I didn’t see that coming.

I thought life with children would be much like life before, just messier.

It wasn’t.

I think I called my friends to apologize for the curveball but – with a screaming baby in my arms – said we might never finish a phone call again.

Then I promptly hung up.

We made it through, of course. (Mostly because my friends soon had children of their own and they started hanging up on me, too.)

The second curveball came when we chose to homeschool.

Somehow I didn’t see that one coming either. But homeschooling (like parenting in general) changes our relationships.

We committed to homeschooling on the day of kindergarten registration.

Living two blocks from a Waldorf school made the decision to keep our kids home more difficult.

With its softly painted walls, song-filled teachers, and baskets of seashells, the school looks like the world I want to live in. (But bigger, and with more kids.)

So we kept stalling on making our decision.

But as we prepared our son for kindergarten I realized that I didn’t want to send him to school. Not even that school.

As we set off to register I blurted, “Let’s stay home. I want to homeschool!”

And we did.

We saw our truth, closed our eyes, and leaped.

Diverging paths

Most of my friends never questioned their trip to kindergarten registration.

They were as thrilled to send their kids to school as I was to keep mine home.

I’m glad that we both found our right answer. There is beauty in our differences.

As their children head to school my friends now contemplate their next career move, preparing for when the youngest heads out the door as well.

They are excited for the next chapter.

And all the while I am here. Firmly rooted with my children, where I’ve spent the last decade.

I can’t imagine it any other way.

Redefining my friendships

Homeschooling – like motherhood – has shaped my life.

Our schedule, my ever-present children, even the book on my nightstand and how and when we socialize. All are touched by this decision.

And because of that I’ve changed the game on my friends once more.

I’m unlikely to accept a social invitation from a friend while her children are at school.

Because this is my time to be present with my kids.

While we gather frequently with other homeschooling families and connect with adults who serve as mentors, I’ve consciously drawn the line at socializing with my non-homeschooling friends during our homeschool week.

Because my kids deserve my focus. It’s the commitment that I’ve made to them. 

In fact, it’s my job.

Seeking understanding

How well do my non-homeschooling friends understand the changes in our friendship in recent years?

Sometimes I wonder if it just feels as though I’ve lost interest in their company.

It seems there are a few things I have not explained.

Perhaps it is time.

An open letter to my non-homeschooling friends

Dear friend,

Let me begin with this: I love you.

I treasure your friendship and look forward to all we will share in the days yet to come.

I want to acknowledge the changes that homeschooling has brought to our friendship.

Homeschooling has shifted my priorities, my interests, my schedule, and indeed my relationships.

When our kids were small I was as eager as you to visit. But lately I’ve rejected most of your invitations to socialize.

Heck, I often don’t even answer the phone. (But you know that already.)

The reason I don’t connect during the week like your other friends do is because I am working.

Working on homeschooling my children.

Even when it doesn’t look like we’re “doing school” we are engaged in learning.

• While we prepare lunch we’re working on fractions and sequencing.
• While we pull weeds we’re studying invertebrates, botany, and soil science.
• After lunch we’ll do some math, spelling, and play games that help us with problem-solving, reading, and cooperation.

Homeschooling is my full-time job. And it requires my focus.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

But that means that I won’t likely invite you over for coffee while I prepare lunch. And I can’t take a walk with you in the morning while your kids are at school.

Because I’m walking a different path now.

I ask you for your patience and understanding as our friendship shifts once again.

Though our lives look different than each others now, I’m grateful to have you by my side. (However rarely I am able to make that happen in the truest sense.)

The journey I am on is long, challenging, and incredibly rewarding. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

And I’m glad you’re here, cheering me on, and forgiving me for saying no to that coffee date yet again.

How has homeschooling changed your relationships? How do you make time to connect with your friends?

Originally published on September 5, 2012.

Homeschooling and Homesteading ~ Written by Rachel Wolf of Clean.

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to live on a small homestead, tucked away in the hills in some quiet corner of Wisconsin. I longed for an old red barn when I lived in an apartment in the city; dreamed of sheep when I was a non-knitting vegetarian.

Why? I can’t explain it. I grew up in the suburbs for goodness’ sake.

When I was ten my only life goal was to live on a farm with my best friend, raise pigs for show, and have a house filled with pets. Fast-forward thirty-some years and most of that dream has come true.

I live with my best friend (my husband) on a small farm in Wisconsin. While we don’t raise pigs, we do have forty-some animals in our care. Or maybe it’s fifty. Frankly I’ve lost count.

Aside from our two homeschooled children, in our charge are six quail, nine ducks, dozens of laying hens, and (until last weekend) eighty (that’s 8-0) meat birds. Add to this our fifteen sheep, five goats, a fledgling fruit orchard, a gaggle of house pets, and a big vegetable garden and there are days when I question my sanity.

There are days I can’t seem to locate anything that even resembles my sanity.

With milking and fencing and weeding and canning and mucking and tending – time is often thin.

And I wonder, “I’m supposed to ‘do school’ when?”

Homesteading makes for nice photographs, great food, and good stories. (Like of the four of us in our pajamas chasing errant sheep across the marsh at bedtime.) But at the end of the day I sometimes question if it’s worth it.

Because if we weren’t homesteading we’d have time to sit at the table and work on spelling and math more often than we do. If we weren’t homesteading we’d have time to go canoeing, attend a performance, or visit the museum more than once a year.

If we weren’t homesteading we wouldn’t drop to sleep so exhausted at the end of every day.

If we weren’t homesteading

Yes, there are things we miss out on because we are busy with the work of our farm. But what would we miss if we gave up and went back to the life we had before?

If we weren’t homesteading my daughter would not have huddled in my arms one cold spring morning and watched in awe as twin lambs were born before her eyes.

It changed her. It changed me.

Some weeks later when a goat was giving birth she stayed by her side until late in the night, whispering softly, until the difficult labor was over and two of her babies – healthy and strong – were finally nursing.

Only then would my farm girl go up to bed.

If we weren’t homesteading my son would not have learned the power of his growing body by throwing hay bales down to the barn, one after another. Food for our sheep to last through the winter.

So often in his head, lost in books or science experiments, when we needed his help he rallied and found his hidden strength.

His pride in his work was palpable.

A perfect job for this boy who is growing into a man.

Indeed, homesteading is rich with lessons.

1. We have learned how to pull together as a family.

From daily chores to annual chicken butchering, we’ve each found the jobs we can live with. (And even a few that we love.)

And we have learned that one person can’t possibly do all the work required to run our farm.

It takes hard work from us all. No job is insignificant.

2. Through farming we model self-directed learning.

We didn’t grow up farming, so every project begins with questions and research. Pasture management, hoof trimming, permaculture – every day there are new lessons to be had.

We model this hunger for knowledge to our children day after day.

They see us ask questions and seek answers again and again.

3. We know where our food comes from.

Meals where every item on our plate was grown within 100 feet of our door are not unusual. We can’t take for granted food we worked so hard to put by.

And knowing how to grow and preserve food is a useful piece of education.

4. Life and death are not mysteries anymore.

The amazing – and the tragic – transitions on our farm have us better equipped to navigate the big transitions in our own lives.

Birth, sickness, death – our children have grown up with intimate knowledge of these passages.

Make no mistake. Homesteading is hard.

But then again, so is homeschooling.

We’ve never made a habit of choosing the easiest path. We have made a habit of choosing the path that most aligns with our hearts.

And so our journey is built with homegrown, elbow-deep, boots-on work. In how we live and indeed, how we learn.

Like homesteading, homeschooling is among the hardest – but most rewarding – work we could do.

And for all of the effort, I can’t imagine learning any other way.

What lessons have you seen come your children’s way through living in alignment with your family’s life purpose–whatever it may be?

This post is part of our Hardest Part of my Homeschool Year series.

What’s Your Homeschool Mom Personality? Take Jamie’s quiz now and receive a free personality report to help you organize your homeschool based on what your personality type needs most!

Homeschooling can be such serious business.

Each day you juggle more tasks than a CEO.

Learning styles, lunch, and laundry.

Geometry, groceries, and gardening.

Disputes, diapers, and long division.

It’s a big job you’ve taken on. 

And yes, also the most rewarding.

Even so, sometimes I get a little too serious about it.

Mired in the day-to-day, I forget how blessed I truly am.

I turn “life” into “work” and forget to have fun.

When that happens I need to remind myself to lighten up, relax, and enjoy the ride.

(You know. To balance out the occasional neurotic self talk of “Please, oh please, homeschooling mama. Don’t screw this up.”)

So let’s get to it. And take this journey up a notch.

5 Tips for a Happier Homeschool

1. Count your blessings

Is your life perfect? Of course not.

But is it brimming with blessings? Absolutely.

Mine is too.

I recently began writing a weekly list of blessings. And it’s changing me.

Make a habit of keeping track of everything that makes your life beautiful.

Involve your kids in projects to nurture gratitude.

And watch your list of what you are thankful for expand.

2. Stop comparing

Ourselves. Our kids. Our homes. Our lives.

We compare – consciously or unconsciously – day after day.

Enough with the crazy making! We’re all imperfect.

And we’re all on our just-right path.

Embrace your own. And forget about the rest.

3. Be flexible

We have a weekly homeschooling rhythm that we carefully follow.

Except when we don’t.

Because sometimes our plans go out the window.

We skip spelling and take a hike with friends. We go apple picking instead of heading to the library.

While routine is good for us, cutting class now and then is even better.

I love Renee‘s take on this in her post about “usually, not always”.

Being flexible means happy surprises for everyone.

4. For goodness sake, play!

Hello, there, happiness.

Life is fun, remember?

Cut loose now and then to shake up your state of mind.

I don’t care if play translates into a fuzzy fake mustache or  a day at the beach.

Whatever play means to you – do that.

It’s a simple, joyful way to reboot everyone’s attitudes and energy.

5. Make time for you

Repeat after me: Self-care is non-negotiable.

Yes, your kids matter.

And your partner matters.

And so do you.

Make time for self-care. It’s vital.

A solo walk each morning, weekly knitting with your friends, an entire weekend alone.

Whatever you need to recharge your battery, make time for it.

Because only you can take care of you.

And you matter. So much.

How do you cultivate happiness throughout your homeschooling day?

Originally published October 2, 2013.

Like you, sometimes I have it all dialed in.

Days when I’m a superstar from dawn until dusk.

From homeschooling to housework, to nurturing my marriage and myself – it’s all happening.

I’m unstoppable!

And then the next day… I’m not.

On these days I’m desperate for things to fall into place, but instead they all seem to fall apart.

Last week I had a day like that.

Okay, several.

Sure, it’s been a rough spell over here.

But the truth is, it isn’t beating me.

Because when life goes haywire, we all stand at a crossroads.

And we’re in charge of choosing the path we take next.

We can suffer through and see only the shadows, or we can choose a new focus.

And notice all that is going right.

By simply giving thanks.

Because so often, it isn’t as bad as it seems.

And almost always it could have been a whole lot worse.

Thanksgiving has long been a favorite celebration for me.

Because it’s a day to gather with family or friends and focus on all that is good.

We count our blessings.

We give thanks.

And gratitude is one of the most powerful tools we hold.

After a hard day, I let go as best I can.

And then I count my blessings.

And I give thanks for the view from my kitchen and the tea in my cup.

For family, friends, and helpful strangers.

For running water, a hot shower, and wool slippers.

For the freedom to homeschool and these two amazing children to share the journey with.

For this life, with all of its messes.

And for a fresh start tomorrow.

I give thanks.

“A thankful heart is not only the greatest virtue, but the parent of all the other virtues.”
~ Cicero

What blessings are you holding close this season?

Our lives are a mix.

Like anyone, we each have our gifts and our shortcomings.

Yet somehow it always seems easier to focus on the shortcomings.

When I wrote this spunky post about cropping out what isn’t working in our lives I didn’t anticipate the positive response that it would receive.

But it turns out it’s a message we’re starving for.

That message is this:

Stop looking for perfection in others and seeing only flaws in yourself. We are all imperfect. Crop out what isn’t working in your life and celebrate what is.

Because the very nature of life involves getting some things right and some things wrong. Let’s get over ourselves and stop trying to be perfect.

When it comes to homeschooling it’s especially hard to look beyond our imperfections.

Because homeschooling is something we’re so motivated to get right. And many of us worry that we might get it wrong.

My homeschooling will fall apart if I don’t hold myself to a more rigid schedule. But I can’t do it! I am a failure.

Everyone else seems to have an easier time teaching their kids than I do. What do they have that I don’t?

At times it can also be hard to look past our child’s shortcomings.

Because it’s our job to stay on top of their learning. And what if something doesn’t come easily?

His tests are terrible again. What is wrong with him? Why can’t he get this?

If they would just sit down and listen for once we could get through it. They never cooperate!

And while I do not suggest that you ignore your homeschool struggles, I do ask that you keep perspective.

Crop out the self-doubt and criticism and celebrate what comes easily.

If you can’t stick to a schedule, embrace the learning that happens regardless of the clock.

If your kids won’t sit still for school, then take them outside and study while you explore.

If you get stressed out when you take field trips, stay home and make a glorious mess with science projects on the deck.

Because one path doesn’t work for everyone.

And we don’t all have the same skills.

We do, however, all have some.

Why do we fixate on what isn’t working?

Our focus on our own struggles often comes down to self image.

I’m not good enough.

Smart enough.

Disciplined enough.

Organized enough.

And our focus on our child’s struggles often comes down to our fears about the future.

She’s hitting again! She’ll never learn to get along with others.

He’s still struggling. What if he never gets it?

If they act like this now, I can’t imagine what they’ll be like as adults!

Finding confidence in ourselves and our children can cut us loose from the cycle of negativity.

Focus on what you do well.

Changing your focus from where you fail to where you shine can make all the difference.

(Yes, even in the areas you struggle.)

Try these tips to find your strengths and use them in your schooling.

• Make a list of what you do well or enjoy. Go wild and list everything. Do you love to bake? Know a lot about nature? Enjoy games with your kids? Write it down.
• Create time in your day for the things on the list above. Be creative and fit it in wherever you can.
  After a week check in with yourself. What learning has come from your gifts? How have your days improved? What about your view of yourself?
• Keep doing what you enjoy and do well. Every. Darn. Day.
• Remember to have fun. Learning is fun, life is fun. And everything come easier with a bit of joy in the mix.

This is where you say:

“Okay, Miss Smartypants, how do I shift my focus without losing sight of what needs work? I won’t pretend my child isn’t struggling.”

Agreed.

I am not proposing you ignore a learning disability or major behavioral issue.

I am simply asking you to focus on the good that you and your child possess while you work on what needs work.

Instead of thinking of your child as a poor speller, see him as a budding entomologist.

Because both may be true, but seeing his gifts will serve you both more than fixating on his weakness.

Then find a way to meld his passion for insects with a bit of writing and watch how much easier the spelling comes.

And as you work, remember this:

• It doesn’t need to all happen today. Use history for perspective. Reach back to other skills that came later than you expected that now come effortlessly for your child.
• Find creative ways to nurture your child’s learning. Play games. Go outside. Make things. Match your strengths to your child’s needs and create learning in unconventional places.
• Breathe through the fear. Most of what we worry about only ever happens in our head.

And remember: we all have strengths.

It’s time to see – and celebrate – the gifts that we have.

It’s time to release the self-doubt and the fear.

It’s time to crop out self-criticism once and for all.

Let’s start now. What are some of your parenting and homeschooling strengths?

This summer I’m reviving one of my favorite homeschooling traditions.

Mystery Day.

Mystery Day begins with a simple set of instructions.

I tell the children what to wear (a swimming suit, a nice outfit, or maybe their muck boots) and what to pack (like a sketch book, a water bottle or a hip sack.)

I pack our remaining gear in secret, hiding away anything that would reveal our destination.

As we eat breakfast together the children speculate on where this day might take them.

To the local museum? Or a nearby city?

To a friend’s farm to see the new calf?

Or on a hike along the river?

We wonder and guess and laugh, and then –

and then we go.

During our journey the kids continue to speculate and ask lots of questions about our destination.

“Have we been there before?”

“Is it in the country or the city?”

“Are we going to be inside or outside today?”

“Will we see something we’ve been learning about at home?”

Sometimes they out-fox me before we arrive, but frequently I surprise them.

We arrive at our destination and everyone delights in what the day brings us.

Often our destination is free.

Like letterboxing in the woods or watercolor painting in the park.

It is common to take a field trip inspired by something the children have expressed an interest in exploring.

And sometimes it’s just for fun.

In the past five years we have found ourselves on countless Mystery Day adventures.

We’ve seen the bluffs over the Mississippi, eaten sushi, visited a magnolia garden, and banded songbirds.

We’ve visited a zoo, a circus museum, a blueberry farm, and our own back woods.

Some of our trips take an afternoon, others take us until well past sundown.

To me, the beauty of Mystery Day (aside from the joyful suspense and adventure!) is its flexibility.

• Mystery Day can be as simple or complex as you wish.

• You can stay close to home or travel all morning.

• It can be a homeschooling splurge or a no-cost adventure.

• It’s fun, simple (educational!) fun for everyone.

So I guess only one question remains:

Where will you go first?

More information about our Mystery Day adventures can be found here, here, and here.

How do you work playful, affordable adventure into your homeschool?

Weeds. They invade our gardens and lawns.

They choke out the plants we’re trying to grow.

We did not invite them, yet there they appear in abundance.

So we seek them out and destroy them.

But Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “A weed is a plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered.”

Might we be missing something?

Stinging nettle

Virtuous weeds

Around here we relish our weeds. (Though we prefer to call them “wild edibles”.)

I would contest that weeds have many virtues.

Wild edibles are:

• Nutritious – packed with minerals and vitamins
• Delicious – think raspberries or wild ramps
• Free
• Fun to harvest

Weeds are more virtuous than we thought.

Before farms

Before agriculture people still had food. (Of course!)

Instead of farming they foraged. Back then wild food was just food.

Roots, shoots, leaves, berries, fruit, and game.

It’s all still out there.

We’ve just forgotten to tap into this abundance. Instead we purchase, farm, or garden nearly all of our food.

Cattail shoots

As a foraging family we’ve decided to try at least one new wild food each season.

Last week my children decided to try cattail shoots.

The harvesting was cool, wet, muddy, and gooey. The cattail shoots first resisted our tug and then woosh! slipped from their skins covered in a gelatinous ooze.

Wow. Who knew?

We took them home, peeled away the tough outer layers and cooked them in butter, garlic and ginger.

They were delicious.

All it took was deciding to try them.

You don’t even need a wetland or forest to get started. Just an unsprayed corner of your yard will do.

Because wild foods are everywhere.

Cattail leaves

Why Forage?

Foraging feeds us – literally and figuratively.

• It creates calm in a busy day. The quiet of the woods and the focus of the search helps us find our center.

• Foraging helps us to better understand the earth. As we forage we learn about habitat, wildlife, weather, microclimates, soil, and more.

• Foraging fills our freezer and pantry without us planting seeds or spending dollars.

With a little persistence we stock our larder each year with dozens of quarts of applesauce, bags of berries, and jars of pestos, teas, and greens. All for free!

• Foraging anchors us in the season.

Nature unfolds at its own perfect tempo. Harvesting wild foods helps us to be mindful of the now.

Get started

Foraging with children can be safe, easy, and rewarding.

Children learn about the natural world and practice plant identification. And most love the treasure-hunt experience of searching the woods for plants to eat.

When you’re ready to get out there, here are some tips to get you off on the right path.

Ramps

1. Gather your tools

Foraging doesn’t require any special equipment.

What you need is already in your kitchen, closet, or garage.

Depending on what we’re harvesting we will bring:

• shopping bags, buckets, or baskets
• garden gloves
• hand trowels
• field guides
• water bottles
• pocket knife or scissors (optional)

Blackberries

2. Begin with the basics

Some wild plants are poisonous. It’s best to start with plants that don’t have dangerous look-alikes.

A few of our favorite (foolproof) plants are:

• Berries (blackberries, raspberries, strawberries)
• Nettle
• Dandelions
• Cattails
• Lambsquarters
• Watercress

Once you’ve learned the basics, then you can slowly introduce more difficult plants.

3. Read

Lambsquarters

3. Find your mentor

Connect with an advanced wild food enthusiast. Find a foraging mentor through your homeschooling community, university extension office, or local nature center.

Have your mentor show you and your children the basics.

4. A place to harvest

Over the past few years we’ve discovered a few favorite foraging sites near our home.

We know where to go if we want watercress, nettles, elderberries, ramps, or blackberries – all within minutes of our home.

Check with your local park office to determine if you can forage on their property.

Or ask  landowners for permission to forage. Many are happy to see a few “weeds” leaving their property!
Jewelweed

Resources

I write about wild foods from time to time–some posts that might interest you include recipes for ramps, dandelions, and nettles. I’ve also posted about family foraging here and here if you’re looking for more inspiration!

What about you? What is your favorite wild food? Or if you haven’t foraged before, what hurdles stand in your way?

This post originally published on June 27, 2012.

I can’t speak for you, but I do not have a degree in elementary or secondary education.

Though I am teaching my children, I have no certificate to prove my qualifications.

Indeed there is plenty that I do not know.

I have not memorized the names of our forty-three past presidents, all 196 countries, or the periodic chart of elements.

I am neither a math whiz nor a spelling genius.

And yet there is also plenty that I do know.

From botany and biology to ornithology and geology, I have my strengths.

It’s true. I’m human.

However despite my gaps in knowledge I am qualified to teach my children.

More so than anyone else, in fact.

Because what qualifies me to teach is not the sum of facts in my head.

What qualifies me is how well I understand my children and how deeply I care about their learning.

In our family there are no cracks for these kids to fall through.

During the years since we committed to homeschooling there have been times when my confidence is shaken.

Because I want so much to get this right.

Many of us may wonder at times if we are qualified for this job.

Do we have what it takes to guide our child’s learning straight through to adulthood?

Perhaps you have also heard these doubts in the voices of family, friends, or strangers when they ask:

“Oh, you homeschool your children? Then do you have an education degree?”

Or someone telling you, “I could never homeschool because I don’t know enough about [insert subject here].”

Or when someone asks, “How can you be sure your child will learn enough [science, math, geography, physics, anything]? You can’t possibly know it all!”

We can’t. We simply can’t know it all.

And that’s normal.

Human.

Healthy.

So instead of trying to know (and then teach) it all, I see myself in two roles with my children: that of their liaison and their partner in learning.

Parent as Liaison

Rather than attempting to be an authority on All Things Worth Knowing, I am the bridge that connects my children with people, resources, and tools to help them reach their goals.

Even with limited financial resources we have access to books, publications, and experts on a myriad of topics.

I facilitate connections between my child and the people or tools that can guide their learning.

When my daughter wanted to learn French we found a friend to serve as her tutor.

When we wanted to take our math skills to the next level we bought a curriculum.

When my son became curious about blacksmithing we found a local artist to share his craft.

As homeschooling parents we are not alone on this journey.

We are surrounded by a community of people and an abundance or resources, just waiting to be tapped.

Parent as student

Part of my job as a homeschooling parent is to be honest about what I do not know, and then to seek knowledge right alongside my kids.

When I stand before my child and admit to not having the answers, it humanizes his own experience.

And then together we set off to find the solution.

This delivers two important messages to our children:

1. It’s okay to not have the answers, and

2. Learning never ends.

So each day we learn side-by-side.

And when my children see me stretch and learn and struggle along side them, they know that their own struggles are valid.

And they learn to persevere. And accept the imperfections they see in themselves and in others.

Do I have all the answers? No.

But what makes me a good great teacher for my child is so much more than the facts I have memorized.

It’s individual attention, dedication, and understanding.

It is time, energy, and love.

It’s sharing the journey and learning together.

So are we qualified?

Are we ever.

Further reading:

• Playing with fire
• Are you a good enough teacher?

Have you ever lost confidence in your ability to homeschool, or have others expressed their concerns to you? How have you navigated these moments?

There are as many different ways to parent as there are kids.

And while some of us hit our groove on day-one, others struggle to find that just-right fit for years.

Many find a turning point in the act of simply putting pen to paper and jotting down the answer to one simple (yet challenging) question: “What is my parenting mission?”

My business has a mission statement. Why not my home?

Because sometimes we forget our goals. Or we lose our way.

When we do our mission statement can help put us back on track.

I shared my parenting mission statement here.

And simply jotting down those words helped my direct my parenting (and yes, homeschooling) path. I make choices each day with these goals in mind.

I think of it this way: If I have a basket of apples, how I work with those apples will be different depending on my culinary vision. Do I want juice? Sauce? Pie? Dried apples? Hard cider?

Depending on my goal I will follow a different path in how I prepare my fruit.

And while our children are certainly not produce, how we parent them shapes who they become almost as much as that apple-turned-pie.

Crafting your own mission statement can help you hone in on the path that’s just right for you and your children.

Here’s how:

1. Make a list

Make a list of the skills and traits that you want your home and homeschool to nurture in your child. Curiosity, self-confidence, patience, compassion, determination, service… jot down anything that comes to mind.

2. Transform those life-skills into a mission statement

For example, “Determination: I will provide my child with challenging activities that are of interest to her. I will stay close and and guide her towards completion, even when she is feeling discouraged.”

3. Live it

Take your goals to heart and strive to live your mission each day. Hang it on your fridge. Keep it on your desk. Read it every morning. Whatever it takes to remember your goals.

4. Revise it

As your children grow, undoubtedly your list will change. Edit it as needed through the years to breathe new life into your mission statement.

Personally, my mission is most helpful on the days when I’ve lost my way.

When I’m not the parent I strive to be.

On those days I remember my mission and get back on track.

Because no one is perfect. But knowing what kind of adults you are growing can be just the thing to keep you on moving in the right direction.

Further Reading:

* More peaceful parenting – your mission statement

What about you? What gifts do you want your children to carry into adulthood and how do you help them learn these skills?

It is usually dark (and cold) in the house when I wake up.

I wiggle out from under the covers, trying not to wake my husband nor any child who may have wandered in during the night.

I tiptoe downstairs to start the tea kettle.

The house is quiet except for the clicking of my dog’s toes on the floor as he greets me (and the day) with his dance of early-morning-canine-bliss.

As a homeschooling parent and small business owner my mornings are vital. In order to be truly present with my kids during the day I usually start work before I even get dressed.

My goal is to power off the computer by the time my husband leaves for work and leave it off for most of the day.

With tea in hand, I head to my home office to check email and write my blog.

Soon my ten-year-old son wakes and finds me at my desk.

He curls in my lap for a while, waking up slowly, then heads downstairs to fix himself a bowl of yogurt.

He grabs a blanket and a book and curls up on the couch. And there he spends the morning, lost in another world.

The quiet is broken when my husband and six-year old daughter awaken. Our day noisily bursts to life.

Our mornings – and the rest of our day for that matter – are slow and easy.

We treasure that homeschooling and self-employment affords us a life without alarm clocks or – for the most part – a rigid schedule.

My husband cooks breakfast while the children dress and head out into the cold to feed and water our chickens.

I usually quit work for the morning when breakfast is ready, between 9:00 and 10:00. Then Pete heads to work as we finish eating and clean the kitchen.

And then the day belongs to the children and me – wherever it takes us.

Our unschooling day has begun.

I will admit to cringing the first time I heard the word “unschool.” I envisioned feral children running wild and a hands-off parent asleep on the couch.

But that’s not what my life looks like at all.

(Okay, they do run wild sometimes, but I assure you I’m not napping!)

Instead of kicking back I set aside the bulk of each day for being mindfully present with my kids.

I turn off my computer, I turn off my phone, and I focus on their learning.

I am present for their education without any preconceived notion of what that might mean or where it may take us.

As an unschooling family our goal is to raise passionate learners, not to memorize facts.

Unschooling is built on trust, freedom, and the belief that when given the space in which to learn children will thrive.

“We can best help children learn, not by deciding what we think they should learn and thinking of ingenious ways to teach it to them, but by making the world, as far as we can, accessible to them, paying serious attention to what they do, answering their questions — if they have any — and helping them explore the things they are most interested in.” – John Holt

It is not for everyone. For my family, however, it is a perfect match.

But enough explanation. Let’s get back to our “day in the life”.

Our unschooling day often begins with the question: “What do you want to learn today?”

And then we dive in.

Today that meant a game about medicinal plants, a hike in the woods, several craft projects, and lots of books.

Last week it meant (among other things) a visit to a nearby museum, embroidery, an afternoon poring over a new math curriculum that the kids requested, the construction of a cross-bow, the shooting of a rifle, and the creation of a new micro-business enterprise.

Unlike curriculum-based homeschooling that fits neatly on the calendar, unschooling begins and ends with the interest of the child.

So I don’t have a tidy schedule of our day to share. It simply doesn’t exist.

That being said, there is a rhythm to our life.

• We bookend our days with morning and bedtime routines.
• I turn off my computer to be present with my children for their learning.
• Our kids do not have access to television, video games, or other media. We do, however, use the Internet together for research and watch educational videos together on occasion.
• We eat and clean-up together (and often cook together).
• Most afternoons we pause our work to read a chapter aloud together.
• My children both participate in weekly lessons. We try to schedule no more than two classes per child per season to leave plenty of space in our rhythm.
• We go outside nearly every day.
• I model self-directed learning by seeking out new knowledge for myself along side my children.

And with that we’re laying a strong foundation for passionate life-long learners.

You can see our homeschooling rhythm from years past here (2012) and here (2011).

Does your family thrive with more structure or less? Describe a day of flow for you and your children.