Sparkling Adventures

"Once you label me you negate me." — Soren Kierkegaard

Definitions are so problematic when labelling home-schooling styles. A label limits the flexibility, the spontaneity, the changeability that attracts many people to home-schooling in the first place. Add to this a religious term like “Christian”, and your definition becomes even more laborious as it is weighed down by centuries of cultural baggage culminating in the Westernised evangelical version of churchianity prevalent in English-speaking countries.

Nevertheless, I’m going to attempt my own definition of Christian unschooling. (For other excellent summaries, have a look here, here and here.)

Christian unschooling is embracing the opportunity to keep your children at home so they can learn in a natural way through life experiences. It is trusting that God will direct their interests so they are well equipped for life and godliness. It is believing that God will enable you with wisdom to provide encouragement, time and resources. It is deliberately avoiding any attempts to measure or force your children’s learning according to others’ schedules and standards.

When I eagerly attended my first home-schooling seminar in 2008, I sat close to the front and took careful notes. One presenter said very clearly: “Unschooling is not a godly way of home-schooling, for our God is a god of order” (which I think he may have got from here although it’s a bit of a theological contortion).

Naïvely, I wrote down his words, swallowing the speaker’s precepts. Nowadays, I would raise my hand and politely enquire which curriculum Jesus was taught with, or — for that matter — which program Christ used when instructing His twelve disciples. (Upon further reflection, I must also question the motives of the speaker, who is the director of developer and distributor of home-schooling curriculum.)

At the time I heard about the perils of unschooling, my mind could only envision a modified school-at-home method of instructing children. Our journey to embracing unschooling is not actually one that we deliberately set out on, but it is a path that God has laid before us with gentleness.

David’s and my personal history have made it easier to reject the notion that institutionalised learning is better or even necessary for life. Neither David nor I completed university degrees. We simply practised our trades and learned from the experts around us — me in desktop design and David in his floorcoverings trade. Our autodidactism enabled us to pursue the skills and knowledge we needed to advance in our careers. (This is not to preclude our children from pursuing university degrees.)

So after properly analysing our own lives in light of our research on home-schooling methods, our next step was to question the arbitrary testing and grading systems. (Institutionalised learning was unnecessary for many well-known people to “succeed” in life.) And what does a child truly need to learn for life? Is it something that can be taught by a book, practised on worksheets and measured with a percentage score?

To these questions, add the emphasis that we place on working out our salvation daily — crucifying the sin nature so that God may manifest in us — and our goals in home-schooling become abundantly clear.

We would like to be the ones who tell the stories that teach our children about life. We don’t want to give our children over to just anyone — however well-intentioned they may be. We seek to live so our children know Father first and then the skills for life which necessarily must include reading, writing and the ability to pursue knowledge.

In unschooling, we must learn to not impose the obligations of institutions upon our own children’s learning. In Christian unschooling, we must not impose religious obligations that focus on righteous living without understanding that Father is the one who turns the heart to Himself. To be successful in this, we must earnestly seek God first, so we manifest the life of Christ that we want our children to learn from.

In a real sense, unschooling means we throw away the lists of age-based assessments and instead watch each child’s progress as they pursue their own interests, develop individual learning styles, build strengths and grow in knowledge and godliness. We will smile in wonder as we see each child grasp new concepts that we did not force upon them. And we will seize each teachable moment, embroidering our days with stories, questions and conversations that lead to exploration and discovery.

This is hardly different to the traditional home-schooling parent — except that we eschew schedules, curriculum, tests and grades. As a result, we hope that our children will stand or fall on their real abilities in this world — not on how well they can meet the system’s requirements. Our prayer is that Father may lead them close to Him in the process.

Perhaps it’s risky, but so are the alternatives. And this glorious risk — Christian unschooling — suits us (and others) just fine.

After a mostly quiet August, we’re starting this new month with a full calendar! I always love having a list of activities to take our children to, and it’s even more fun when people come to stay at our house.

In packing the girls' clothes for our long weekend away, I've realised that we have almost run out of little undies. (How have I not noticed it before?)

This weekend we’re heading to Australia’s first unschooling retreat, and I’m very excited. David’s not certain what all the fuss is about, but I’m hoping to meet some very interesting people and see how they live their lives. I’ve never met any radical unschoolers before, and I’m eager to observe how their philosophy impacts on various aspects of their family’s life.

When he hasn't been working, David has been busy pimping his ride. He's installed a *huge* sound system in the back of it. (Look at the speakers in the top cages.)

David has been working with an amp, converting it and his stereo to run on the 12 volt power in the truck.

When we get back home, my mother (“Manou”) will be staying with us for a while. The girls are very excited about her visit. They look forward to doing exciting craft activities with her (since I’m such a reluctant crafter), and I’m sure she’ll read many, many books to the older three. This will also be her first opportunity to meet Delaney — her youngest grandchild.

And after that visit, some online friends will come up and stay with us as they enjoy a second honeymoon visiting all the theme parks in the area. We’ve never met the Ms before, but I’m really looking forward to speaking to K face-to-face after all this email contact and one looooooooong phone call!

K has been following my blog since way back, and I wonder how reality will compare to the pictures I’ve painted on this blog! I’m planning on interviewing her to get her perspective on Sparkling Adventures vs. Real Life, so if you have any questions about what life is really like in our family, leave a comment and I’ll get K to answer them for you!

Now that Brioni’s four years old, we’ve asked her to give up her security blanket. Boolah has been her companion since she was a small baby. Brioni still loves to suck her thumb, and we’re hoping that the absence of Boolah will also mean that she drops the thumb-sucking habit.

I gave Brioni one last cuddle before I put Boolah away for good.

We’ve given security blankets to each of the girls. Aisha had an heirloom — a knitted wool blanket that had been presented to me as a child. She called it Aya and particularly loved just one corner of it. I had a hard time putting Aya away because David kept bringing it back out for Aisha!

After the nightmare of trying to keep an unravelling knitted blanket together, I bought Brioni’s Boolah from Ikea. Easy-wash cotton — it was a breeze to look after.

Calista’s blanket came from a very special Etsy shop. She adopted Pink so well that I soon had to go back to Tobie and ask her if she could make a smaller-sized “Baby Pink” so we’d have a car blanket and/or replacement blanket when the real thing was being washed.

Before Delaney’s birth, I approached Tobie again and knew enough to ask for two blankets — one full-sized and the other little bigger than a sheet of paper. Tobie kindly offered to order in some material especially for my blankets and let me choose my fabric of choice from her suppliers. Then when Tobie was making Dell’s blankets, her daughter persuaded her to make a fish toy from some yellow scraps. Dell has successfully adopted the blankets and the fish, and she loves them dearly.

Delaney loves her security blanket. We call it her "Fishy Rug" because it has yellow and pink fish on the underside.

Delaney with her special fish toy made by Tobie on the insistence of her daughter.

Judging from the marks on the fish's tail, Delaney must chew on it a lot when she's in bed.

How about you? Did you introduce security blankets to your children? And if so, how did you finally wean them off it?

After fourteen years of being together, David and I are becoming different people. Gently, softly — God is transforming our minds, and we have decided to express the inward changes by experimenting in making a radical outward change.

We’ve swapped sides.

Yes, the sacred marriage bed has been upset.

I’ve always lain on the right of David (I’m David’s right hand, if you will), and David usually ended up closest to the ensuite (how did that happen?).

How does a couple choose sides anyway? I can’t remember how we did it.

Did David and I sit down and formally discuss the merits of each side, agreeing to compromise with me on the left and him on the right? I think we just fit together properly in a certain way — my left hand holding his right, and the comfortable fit flowed naturally into the bedroom.

But now we’re ready for a shake-up. We’re going to see if it changes our relationship dynamics, and it will certainly cause some confusion for our daughters!

In preparation for the bedtime changes, I’ve switched the bedside table drawers (those are contents that are difficult to sort through!) and have accessorised our individual tables in the particular styles to which we are accustomed — torches, Bibles and a drink-bottle for David’s side, and an mp3-player for my side.

We’re going to try this deliberate change on for size and see if it fits the new “us”. Will it last? Only time will tell!

The girls and I were having dinner at the kitchen counter when Brioni caught site of a flying fox climbing up the ladder outside our house. Fruit bats are very common in this part of Queensland, and we have hundreds that squawk and fight in our trees.

We're still not sure why this black flying fox flew to our ladder and then started climbing onto the roof of our house.

So, when there’s a creature about, who do you call? David!

David climbed the ladder and caught the flying fox, using the towel to protect himself from bites and scratches.

They both checked each other out.

This was the first time David had ever caught a flying fox. They’ve never been within arm’s reach before, and if the ladder wasn’t there — he wouldn’t have been able to get the bat on this evening either!

We all had a good look at the mammal. Although originally transitory animals, flying foxes have happily adapted to urban environments where watered and manicured gardens mean a year-round food supply of nectar, blossoms, fruit and leaves.

The flying-fox has a hook on the end of its thumb which is used to invert themselves when they go to the toilet, as a defensive weapon and to reach and climb. The bat's four other "fingers" provide the structure for its webbed wings.

When David released the flying fox, it climbed rapidly up the nearest tree by using its hooks and feet.

Before there were houses and roads and shops and playgrounds, children played. They didn’t need toys or electricity — nature was their playground and they played with whatever they could gather. How often do I give my own children that gift?

Sometimes I become so comfortable in suburbia that I forget what it can be like for children to play in a truly natural environment. And I’m not just talking about an outing to the outdoors. How often do I let my daughters roam and explore a place that’s not landscaped for safety?

Today we took a walk on the wild side and trekked across cow paddocks, uncertain of what we would discover but enjoying the fruits (passion-fruit) and flowers (jasmine) along the way. We were led to a natural playground just fabulous for children to explore — a collection of fallen trees in a shallow, swampy marsh.

Earlier on our walk, we picked bouquets of jasmine, and the scent surrounded us as we started to play.

There were some big trees that kindly provided shade for me and Delaney (without too many fresh cow patties around).

The girls clambered over fallen melaleuca trees whose branches provided pathways over the water. They tested their balance, found their own handholds and forged new games.

It was interesting to watch how the veneer of civilisation slowly fell away. At first, the girls were hesitant about getting wet. Soon it became inevitable, and their shoes filled with mud. Then the girls removed their shoes and played so much more freely.

After observing these steps to freedom, I should remember next time to simply suggest the girls take off their shoes in the first place! But, I, too, am often bound by the constraints of society and find myself out in the wild, still trying to locate a “clean” spot in which to sit down, so I don’t get sullied by the good, clean dirt that covers this whole Earth!

At this point, the girls were still trying to stay dry and clean — carefully inching along the branch.

Exploring a different, natural playground with excellent climbing equipment.

Brioni delighted in finding new plants to show me, and Calista spotted a frog.

This was a fantastic spot to discover — our new favourite playground. And it’s just an easy walk away from our house! David’s talking about taking the girls camping here, next time I’ll definitely bring my camera and try to capture some “arty” shots, and the girls — well, they won’t even ask before they take their shoes off and wade into the swamp!

On the way home, we picked some mushrooms and cooked them up for lunch. This is what life should really be like — exploring and enjoying nature and then feasting on its delights! Thank you, God.

(This article was shared as part of the We Play link-up and Show and Tell.)

Last night I had a vision of the future for three of our daughters — and I caught a glimpse of the type of men they’ll marry. I wanted to record it — not just because I think I’m right about this — but because if I’m wrong, it will be hilarious for the girls to read in the future!

They're learning the poses, but will they grow up into dancers?

Aisha will marry a bookish, nerd type, someone who works on computers rather than with his hands. He will connect so completely with her, that she will have no trouble in realising she has met her soul mate. She and her husband will work in the city, and we will need to come to visit them because they’ll have busy careers.

Brioni will marry a big Maori bloke and be adopted by the whole clan. Her husband will be into rugby and any other sport, and she will eagerly go along to all his games as a cheerleader. She’ll live with his family in the country but not very close to us.

Calista will stay close to us, geographically-speaking. She will marry the man who is most like David, someone who works with his hands — possibly on a farm or in a trade. He’ll be easy to get along with, and we’ll enjoy having him around.

Delaney, well, I haven’t yet discovered her personality, and so I am unable to picture her with a man. It’ll be wonderful to see how she grows and develops!

What about you? Have you caught glimpses of your children’s futures?