Making Friends Through Homeschooling

One of the most asked questions I get when people find out we homeschool is “What do you do about socialization?”  It seems that the paradigm of socialization for children is that children can only socialize and make friends in a public or private school setting.  As homeschooling parents, we've had to put some serious thought into what is socialization.

The main thing we've learned is that socialization is a process.  It’s not something that just happens when children are put together.  An infant’s first show of social skills is a smile.  That smile soon progress into simple expressions and gestures.  It’s the baby’s way of communicating with its environment.  As older babies and toddlers, children engage in side-by-side play with other children.  Direct play usually begins in the early preschool ages, and then children should learn about ownership, sharing, and empathy.  By school age, children should begin to deal with responsibility, respect, and conflict resolution.  None of this progression can happen without adult guidance.  A loving adult has to be there to smile back when that infant first smiles.  An adult should be present when side-by-side independent play gets too close, tempers flare, and teeth are bared.  Adults have to teach preschoolers how to share and care about someone else’s feelings.  And school age children still need adults to teach them when to use words and what words to use instead of their fists to resolve conflicts.  Socialization is a process of learning skills for interacting with people in ones environment.  Just like learning about letters and numbers, socialization has to be taught by adults.  

Any home with more than one child has the perfect environment for teaching the process of socialization to children.  Relationships between siblings are some of the most intense and most important of a person’s life.  I have yet to talk to a parent of more than one child that doesn't remark about the bickering, fighting, and arguing.  Each family has it, and some more than others.  It’s natural.  Toys and clothes get mixed up, personal space gets invaded, and the sparks fly.  “He’s touching me!”  “She hit me!”  He’s annoying me!”  In our house, the children are both worst enemies and best friends.  They spend much of their time fighting, arguing, and generally pestering one another, but if anything threatens any one of them, one of the siblings always rushes to the defense.  When my oldest, Zac, was being bullied by another boy, his younger brother had a hard time understanding why we were taking so long to handle the situation.  He took matters into his own hands one evening when he walked up to the bully and punched him in the arm, and hard enough to make the boy double over.  The bully was four years older and a lot bigger than my youngest son, but by gosh, no one was going to pick on his older brother without having to deal with him!  When my oldest daughter was a toddler, a preschooler shoved her down.  Zac went to her rescue and gave the other child a taste of her own medicine, and then he picked up his little sister and dusted her off.  These are the same children that sit at the breakfast table bickering and teasing each other until Mom and Dad think we are going to lose our minds.  No, retaliation isn't necessarily the social skill their Dad and I want to instill in them, but it is good to see the sibling bond at work.  It makes it more tolerable and gives us hope on days when we spend a lot of our time teaching conflict resolution.

As for friends, homeschooling gives us a unique advantage.  Their Dad and I are so involved with our children, all the time, that we not just know who their friends are, we know their friends.  We have a boy that lives near us who is between the age of our sons.  The first few times he played in our yard, he was destructive to our toys, overly aggressive with our children, and mouthy to me and my husband.  My husband and I made the decision that this wasn't someone that we wanted as a playmate for our children.  We had numerous discussions with our boys about why we had made our decision.  My youngest son was relieved.  He didn't like the way this child treated him or his stuff.  I didn't like that this boy taunted and tried to block Zac from getting out of the deep end of the swimming pool.  One day when the boy was being especially persistent, I heard my oldest raise his voice and say “Would you please stop!”  When I looked in his direction, the lifeguard had heard Zac’s cry and intervened.  Zac had done exactly what we had taught him to do.  He didn't resort to his fists.  He clearly and loudly told the boy to stop, and that got the boy’s attention as well as an adult’s.  So many parents are concerned about parental controls for television, computers, and movies, but parental control over friends is just as important.  Actually, in our family we think it’s the most important.  The friends will influence what and how the child wants to watch and play.  Because we are with our children every day all day, we can and do exercise parental control over budding friendships. 

Public or private school is not the only place where children are around others their age for the opportunity for friendship.  There is church, sports, scouting, and a tremendous variety of other extra-curricular activities.  This summer, our main activities were baseball and swimming.  Zac was very nervous about the first day of baseball practice.  Our town is very small and most of the children go to the public school.  They all know each other well.  Sure enough, at the first practice most of the boys looked at Zac with a wary eye.  At the second practice it was obvious the word had gotten around.  One of the boys approached Zac and sneered, “Oh, you’re the homeschool kid.”  Then the boy walked away.  Zac wasn't sure what to make of the encounter, so he went back to playing ball.  At dinner that night he mentioned what happened and had tears in his eyes.  All he really wanted was to be accepted.  A simple request, but in our town, anything that’s out of the norm isn't accepted very easily.  His Dad and I told him to brush it off and play the best baseball he could.  A tall order for a boy who is one of the youngest on the team.  After a few more practices, the other boys started greeting Zac by name.  Then they started cheering for him when he was up to bat.  His hard work was paying off, and the boys were beginning to recognize that Zac was just a boy who happens to be homeschooled.  When Zac and I would hit balls in the batting cage, we had often had his teammates join us.  They even encouraged my youngest son to try hitting and catching with them.  Accepted at last!  Near the end of the summer, I overheard a boy at the pool call out, “Hey Zac, want to play?”  Music to my ears.  Such a normal phrase, and one that we’d prayed for.  Zac’s response was a casual “sure”, but I heard so much more.  I heard a little boy going through the process of growing up and finding his way in the world, even if his whole world right now is limited to one small town.

A Leg Up

There are so many celebrated firsts in a child’s life like the first smile, the first time a baby sits up, crawls, cuts a tooth, and takes a step. Then the celebrations seem to stop. The firsts aren’t quite so celebrated anymore, but sometimes they are just as monumental. Sometimes we view them as developmental milestones, and yet they are expected so we don’t celebrate them. Things like reading and writing first words get lost in the everyday struggle, and just as the child reaches those goals, there is a press to get to the next level without stopping to savor the accomplishment.

Yesterday Zac had one of those firsts. Not in academics like reading or writing. He does those well, and has been for years. Yesterday he rode a horse for the first time. Oh, he’s been on the back of a pony before, at a friend’s third birthday party. Daddy held him in the saddle as the pony was led around a ring. But yesterday was different. Yesterday was the realization of a dream for Zac, and a new beginning. Yesterday rode a HORSE; an Arabian named Justice. A horse that he had to groom and tack. One on which he learned that guiding a horse doesn’t just happen with the hands, but with the whole body. One for which he learned that a gentle, quiet tone is more accepted and obeyed than being loud and abrupt.

Yesterday I watched my son grow up a little more. I saw him care for another creature and take pride in what he did. I watched him take instruction from an adult who isn’t his parent. And I watched him take pride in himself. Yesterday was a first that we will celebrate and upon which Zac will continue to build.

The Alpha

The Alpha, the first edition, our first miracle baby is now 7 years old. It’s hard to believe that it was 7 years ago when he made his appearance in this world and turned me into Mommy, Alan into Daddy, and the three of us into a family. He is independent and tenacious and yet very sensitive. Zac has always been a blend of a tough little boy with a soft heart. Considering one of his passions is hunting, I’m not sure how that combination is going to resolve, but he has a few years to go before we find out.

I once heard someone say that a little boy will turn anything into a gun, even a banana. That’s Zac. He uses his play rifle or pistols, a stick, or even his finger, if nothing else is handy and he thinks his brother deserves to be shot, complete with sound effects. If he’s not hunting something, than he is riding something, or, more specifically, galloping around on his pretend horse. He LOVES horses. And I thought girls were horse crazy?! He draws them, reads about them, and pretends to ride them all over the house and yard. It probably doesn’t help that every time he goes to the farm store with his Daddy, Alan buys him a piece of horse equipment. Good thing Molly cat likes the currycomb. Zac has even asked Santa for horse tack. His Dad and I would give anything to be able to make the dream of his very own, real live horse come true.

At 7 years old, Zac is also our homeschooler with a full year now under his belt. Math, science, history, grammar, spelling, vocabulary, handwriting, he does it all. Sometimes willingly, sometimes not, but mostly very well. He really likes science and history. Both involve curling up with Mom for a good reading session. He’s really good at grammar and handwriting, he writes in beautiful cursive. Zac is way ahead of grade level in math. He says he doesn’t like math, but it’s because things are starting to be challenging for him; he doesn’t like challenges. His favorite time is recess. Inside recess during naptime when he can build elaborate structures with Legos, Lincoln Logs, or blocks; outside recess where he can let his imagination and his legs roam free.

Seven years have come and gone and three siblings have been added, but Zac’s still our Alpha, our first miracle. God’s blessing to you today and always, Zac, just as you have blessed our family. Happy birthday little man!

The Piano Man

It was a lot like the request for ballet. “Mommy, when can I take piano?” So shortly before his dance classes ended last spring, I went on a quest for a piano teacher. Yes, I could have taught him myself, but this time I thought he’d have a better experience if he had someone besides Mommy to please, someone more objective, and someone who had a better idea where to start. The problem was that most of the piano teachers in our area won’t start a child on piano until they are in third grade. Would his interest wait 4 more years? I didn’t want to find out. Finally, I asked just the right person; our church’s organist, Mrs. Jelsma. She said she would do it! It didn’t matter that he was only 5. She said she knew him well enough to know he was probably ready. To make sure we were on the right track, I added music note flashcards, music math, and keyboard note identification exercises to Zac’s homeschooling curriculum last spring. Then, in May, a week after his dance recital, Zac excitedly headed off to his first lesson. I don’t know what was more fun for him, his playing the piano for the first time or being allowed to hand feed the cows on the Jelsma farm. He took to piano like a duck takes to water. Three or four pieces to practice each week didn’t seem to be enough. He finished his first workbook in record time! Fortunately I still had a lot of the music books that I used when I was learning piano, so Mrs. Jelsma supplemented some material I had with the program she uses. At one point Zac was playing pieces from eight different books in the same week. Well, he seemed to have the piano playing part down, but could he play in a recital. By August we had our answer.

Some of Mrs. Jelsma’s other students proposed a recital to be played at a local assisted living facility. Older folks usually make an appreciative audience for performing children. Zac was given an option this time…to play or not. He chose to play. He and Mrs. Jelsma picked five or six pieces that he had recently mastered. The closer the recital date came, the more nervous was Zac. To quell some of his jitters, Zac and I went to the facility a few days ahead of time, and he played on the piano. Some of the residents sat around after dinner and quietly listened. Zac relaxed some, but he was still nervous. We expected him to back out, and that would have been okay. The afternoon of recital day, I sat Zac down with a DVD of a Barry Manilow concert. Zac had never seen Barry perform. Wow, did that make an impression! Suddenly the piano wasn’t just something to do, it was a way to express himself. Unfortunately, an hour before the recital, Zac got it in his head that he was going to play his music from memory. Not that the boy doesn’t memorize everything anyway, but this was not the time to test his music brain. The stand off was huge with Zac on one side saying he wasn’t going to take his music to the recital, and Mommy on the other side saying he was going to take it or he wasn’t going at all. During a breather in the argument when Daddy intervened, I had an epiphany; Barry doesn’t use music to play the piano…that’s how it got into Zac’s head...backfired! I grabbed Zac’s music bag as we left for the recital while Daddy and I explained that Mr. Manilow has been playing his songs for many, many years, not just a few weeks, so of course he has it memorized. Not something for a boy to try for his first recital. But still the question remained, would Zac freeze up? Well, he shocked us all. Not only did he play, and play well, he played all of the songs he had prepared and then kept going with more. Somewhere around 10 songs, Mrs. Jelsma was finally able to convince him to stop. What a surprise! The little boy who was afraid of his own shadow at his dance recital had found his niche, or at least his fingers. After the recital, Mrs. Jelsma said the audience kept asking “How old is that little boy? Five, really? Boy, he’s going to be something if he keeps it up.”

So where has Zac gone with his piano since the August recital? How about playing “Happy Birthday” for five birthdays in November. He played over the phone for his Godmother then for his Daddy, brother, and sister. We even took the keyboard to Grandpa’s for a min-recital at the assisted living facility where he lives. A waltz duet with Mommy and a few solo pieces the older crowd recognized, and then a perfect rendition of “Happy Birthday” for his Grandpa’s 98th. A one point I looked over Zac’s shoulder at Grandpa and saw tears brimming in the old man’s eyes. The little boy playing for his Grandpa. The best birthday gift Zac had to offer. So who played “Happy Birthday” for Zac? I did, and it was my pleasure!

Somedays practice is better than others. Nice weather is still more of a draw to play outside than to sit inside and work on scales. Complicated looking pieces scare him and he balks, so we break them down until he masters them. He is only six years old after all. I still find it amazing to watch his little boy hands flying across the keyboard and listening to the very big music he plays. In the end, the work gets done, the music is mastered, and Zac keeps advancing. In the meantime he has been busily working on Christmas music in anticipation of another public performance or two in the coming weeks. As the older folks said “Boy, he is going to be something if he keeps this up!”

What's the Big Deal?

I guess 6 is supposed to be a “big” birthday because it’s the first school-age birthday; no longer a “preschooler.” The first taste of independence. Now Zac can ride his bicycle around the block. He is starting to make friends outside of his family. He has entire parts of his day that are not supervised by his Mom and Dad…if he weren’t homeschooled that is.

So what’s the big deal about turning 6? When Zac was 5,

he was 3 inches shorter than he is now.

he had more teeth in his mouth.

he could read some, but now he reads entire books on his own; the kind with big words in them.

he could count to 100, but now he can do it by 2’s, 5’s, 10’s, addition, subtraction, multiplication, fractions, and way beyond 100.

he couldn’t identify musical notes, and now he reads music fluently and plays piano beautifully.

At 5 Zac was still Mommy and Daddy’s little boy. Now he is our big boy and a loving, protective big brother. So what’s the big deal about turning 6…everything! Happy birthday big guy.

First Dance Recital

Since Zac was 2 years old and watching ballet on PBS, he has begged me to let him take dance. During the fall that he turned 3, I enrolled him in a ballet/tap class while we were living in Las Vegas, but we had to take him out when we decided to move only a few short months later. It took 2 more years before I could get him into a class again, but he still had the desire. So this last school year, Zac was outfitted with black ballet shoes, dance pants, a creative and willing teacher, and his own version of cautious enthusiasm for his preschool dance class. Through wind, rain, snow, and sunny afternoons when he would have rather been outside playing, Zac went to every class. His instructor worked up a recital routine that included two cute tunes for the preschoolers, one being a feature for the only boy in the Center Stage Dance company, Mr. Touchdown.

The night of the recital, Zac looked like the all-American boy in his green shirt with rolled-up sleeves and pink tie to match the girls’ dresses. We had talked about and practiced the dance, running with the football, and playing the part of the hero for the girls in his class who were cheering him on. I took him backstage, dressed him, and gave him a good-luck hug and kiss, then I headed off to find the rest of our troupe. As the lights went down and the curtain came up, Nathan sat transfixed by the performances. Bethany danced on her Daddy’s lap, copying the arm and leg movements of the dancers as best she could, and singing her heart out. Then Zac’s class came onstage. Nathan’s eyes sparkled as he pointed and shouted, “There’s Zac,” and Bethany jumped up and down and yelled “Zacky” as loud as her little voice would carry. Alas, it seemed that no amount of pumping Zac up before hand was going to off-set his incredible stage fright. He made it through his first routine with minimal effort, buried in the back row. Then, about a half dozen dances later, the preschoolers were back on stage for Mr. Touchdown. No more hiding in the back row. Zac was to run a pattern through the girls, take his place in the front row, dance his heart out, and then end by running through two lines of cheering girls for his big finish. With a deer-caught in the headlights look, he lumbered through the dance.

Zac showed tremendous courage to get up on that stage and dance for family, friends, and a host of strangers. He also gave Nathan and Bethany a taste of dance and a chance to cheer for their brother. As for me, I experienced a full-circle moment. From the time of my first childhood dance recital to this, I never imagined I’d be the parent in the audience watching and holding my breath as my child performed on stage. Twinkle toes Zac is not right now, but he is our hero, and we are proud of him.

Big Boy Birthday

In 2004 our wish was granted, our dreams came true, and our prayers were answered with the arrival of our first bouncing baby boy. I hope I never forget the unspeakable joy of cuddling and nursing that warm bundle of love in front of our wood burning stove on cold nights. We covered him with a million kisses a day, and poured every ounce of love we could into him. In the evenings when he was fussy and wouldn’t let me put him down, his Daddy would happily take on dinner duty while he reassured me that my most important job was to hold and love that baby because there would come a day when he wouldn’t want to be held anymore.

Today that bundle of joy turned 5. This was his big boy birthday with a big boy football, a big boy bicycle, and bigger clothes. Despite the celebration of the day Zac is still a curious mix of little and big boy. My greatest joy on this day was not watching his little man hands cradle the football or watching his imaginative play with his fishing adventure set, or even watching him learn how to ride a bicycle on which he has to stretch his legs to reach the peddles. No, my greatest joy was when he walked into our room this morning with the announcement that he was five today, then, without another word, he crawled into our bed, leaned over and wrapped his arms around me, put his head on my shoulder, and settled in for a good long cuddle. Happy birthday little man!

The Cat Shepherd

”Come on Zac, we’re in a hurry.” It had been a busy morning this early August, and we still had not started on our main mission for the day. Zac and I were walking to the post office…the last errand before loading everyone in the truck to leave for the day. A couple of blocks from our house we heard the plaintive cries of a hungry kitten. It didn’t take long to find the little guy. He had parked himself at the back door of an apartment where someone obviously wasn’t prepared for a cat because they had put out graham crackers and water. We continued on our journey while I tried to think of a plan for feeding the little fellow. There was no one at the apartment when we knocked on the door, and catching the skittish kitten would be difficult. As we passed by the kitten on our way home, he followed us. Zac cheered him on for a while, then I sent him on to the house let Daddy know we were about to entertain a four-legged guest. I wasn’t sure the kitten’s little legs would carry him the two blocks to our house, but it seemed that God took care of the transportation; he followed me all the way to the back deck where Alan met us with a bowl of soft cat food. Zac was ecstatic!

Just as we were settling in to the idea of having a new member of the family, someone else heard the kitten. A couple of yards north of us, there was a team of people preparing to paint a house. One of the ladies walked over and asked if the kitten was a stray. As soon as we confirmed, she was on her cell phone calling her brother to tell him his kitten had been found. Apparently 2 days earlier the kitten had hitched a ride from the farm into town unbeknownst to its owner. Zac was devastated!

While Alan and I were calming our grieving son, I realized that we had just been used by God. As frustrated as I was about our schedule that morning, He made sure we were late enough in our morning rush that all the people necessary were in place to shepherd this kitten home. Zac had just experienced being a servant of God. I reminded Zac that God had a plan for a new kitten for our family but it wasn’t the one we had just found. Zac cried that he didn’t like God’s plan! I gently reminded him that when Mommy and Daddy wanted to have a baby, it took us 4 years before we had one. We didn’t like God’s plan for our family during that 4 years, but if we hadn’t followed His plan, we wouldn’t have Zac, and now Nathan and Bethany. Daddy and I told him that somewhere there is a perfect kitten for our family, but in God’s timing.

Weeks later a friend told me of a family who lives down the street from us whose cat had a litter on the 4th of July. On 18 August the entire family traveled down the street to pick out two kittens. Molly (calico tabby) and her brother Slade (white and gray) have been a great delight for everyone. They love to play with the boys and they run to Mommy and Daddy for attention, snuggling, and protection when they get spooked. Bethany giggles with delight every time she sees them, and she has even learned to say “kittay.” God’s plan is good!

Free-Wheeling

Today, on a whim and a prayer, I took the training wheels off of Zac’s bicycle. With a deep breath and Mommy whispering “You can do it,” Zac strapped on his helmet, mounted the bicycle that I was steadying, and started peddling with all the determination his preschool legs could muster. Holding the back of the seat, I ran behind him for about six steps until he was pulling away from me. Reluctantly I let go and watched as my little boy took off like a rocket, peddling for all he was worth, and laughing so hard he veered off the sidewalk into the neighbor’s grass for a safe landing. The next thing I knew, he was running into my arms screaming “I did it!” Just to make sure this wasn’t a fluke, I set him up for another go, and go he did; even farther this time. Unbelievable! Just as we were setting up for a third pass, Daddy drove up. Boy was he surprised to see his oldest son racing down the sidewalk on only two wheels. After many hugs and lots of celebration, Dad joined us and coached Zac on his stopping technique. Then Zac was off again, riding the sidewalk of Main Street into downtown and all the way to Daddy’s office building. As I was watching my little boy ride away, I had goose bumps. With one great big turn of the wheel, I had just witnessed my son pass from babyhood into boyhood.

The Hanger-Upside-Downer

When Zac was about a year old, we were at a park on a play date with a new friend and his Mom. The other Mom noticed two preschool-age boys playing on the swings. One was sitting on the swings and pumping his legs and the other was hanging upside down from his swing, hair almost dragging the ground. My friend laughed and said there go our boys in a few years with Zac being the hanger-upside-downer. Well that's Zac today. He is our first precious gift from God. Everything for which we'd hoped, prayed, and dreamed, and then some. He is non-stop energy, naturally athletic, a great dancer, and a cowboy-farmer-construction worker at heart. He lives life for today and to the fullest, and slow down to eat and sleep...well, we're still working on that. He straddles the fence between being a toddler with his little brother and being the preschooler he is, but he knows the place he has in our hearts. No matter how we or he feels about the preschool years, with all the challenges this age brings, he is our first love, and when he wraps his arms around me and whispers in my ear "Mommy, I love you," I know I've done something good in this life.