Perhaps the biggest difference between homeschooling and more mainstream forms of education is the quantity of time as a resource. I recently came across this quote and it resonated with me, especially in the context of homeschooling: Someone who experiences time as a scarce commodity…is creating a completely different personal reality from someone who perceives that he has all the time in the world. —Deepak Chopra The opportunity to choose my speed (plus the opportunity to choose my focus) is what keeps me homeschooling.

My family loves playing the game Wingspan. The premise of the game is engaging–”buy” bird cards by “feeding” them the food they need from the birdfeeder. Put them in their preferred habitat (woodland, grassland or water) and give them time to lay eggs. Each bird in the deck is unique. The illustrations are exquisite. We learn about the birds as we play, but recently we found a way to extend the learning.

What are the best ways to spend time with your 7th and 8th grade children as you homeschool them? How can you decide what curriculum to use? How do you choose what to focus on? There are no “government regulations” on the topics that need to be taught. As a homeschooler, you have flexibility to do what you think is best. It’s most important that you and your child find a way of focusing on what she most needs.

“One star reviews don’t tell the whole story,” is the reminder I get when I read Amber Share’s delightfully clever book, “Subpar Parks.” The project started as a joke about the negative reviews people put online about National Parks. Amber took her graphic design skills and created artful hand-lettered travel-poster style images, poetically enshrining the disparaging remarks. Glacier National Park: too cold for me Arches National Park: looks nothing like the license plate

Throwing down the pencil in disgust and tossing aside the papers in frustration, my child unleashes a stream of forbidden words: “I hate this; I can’t understand this; this is impossible; I’ll never understand.” Moaned in one continuous exhale, my child repeats what has become a familiar script. She’s only 13, yet she is convinced that some of the academics she studies are beyond her reach. When faced with new or challenging material, her default is to pour out this verbal protest, usually ending with “This is stupid!

We have been laughing hard at our house this week, thanks to the newest book from Randall Munroe, “What if? 2” Munroe combines clever illustrations with witty (yet scientific) explanations as he answers the unexpected questions posed on his website . I have loved having my family members read the book aloud. We guffaw together. The questions are so unexpected, and the answers so serious. The juxtaposition is perfect. One of the things I’ve found about homeschooling is that I need to value and honor my children’s questions.

“This has to be done now!” “This is late!” “Hurry!!” I don’t like living in a state of urgency. I like to know well in advance what’s coming. I like to plan and prepare. Yet, we all know how it feels to find ourselves overwhelmed with tasks and short on time. Sometimes, once I start living in the state of emergency, I feel like I will be stuck in emergencies for ever.

This summer, my fourth child is now my size, even though she is only 12. Many children outgrow their mothers. The unusual thing here is that I am 6’0” and three of these four older children are daughters. We have a remarkably tall family. Now that two-thirds of my children are nearly fully grown, we felt we could justify the expense of two adult XL mountain bikes. Our home has easy access to trails, so, without pausing to read an instruction manual or get feedback from experienced bikers, we began biking.

I’m a homeschooling parent. Here are four ways my summer is likely different from yours. Doing Algebra Poolside For my family, school continues year-round. We don’t have an official “last day” in June, nor do we have an official “first day” in September. We keep going. This horrifies many people. “Your children NEED a vacation,” decry some skeptics. “That is not a humane way to live,” is the accusation. By continuing academics throughout the summer, I send two important messages to my children.

Uncrowded, empty stretches of beach. Single family homes lined up behind the dunes. No lifeguard on duty. This is our experience each time we visit the Barrier Islands near Wilmington, North Carolina. What does it mean if there is no lifeguard on duty? No supervision. No additional help. No one else to blame. Sounds like homeschooling. Benefits of a Lifeguard Since we have a neighborhood pool in walking distance to our home, my teens have chosen lifeguarding as their summer job.