Hatching Ducks: our experience from start to finish

At the start of Spring we decided to hatch something. Roscoe first wanted to hatch snakes, but what would we do with a bunch of snakelets once they were born? Then we had the idea to start a flock of backyard chickens but with another baby on the horizon, as well as an eventual move, I wasn't keen to make any long term pet investments with this project. 

We talked to our homesteading friends to see if anyone had fertilized eggs we could hatch for them—eggs of any kind—with intentions to return the babies once they were a week or two old. A homeschool family we know was interested in growing their domesticated flock of Welsh Harlequins and offered us eight eggs with hope that four or five might hatch. In return we promised to lend them the incubator we purchased so they could do their own hatching experiment later in the Summer. 

Female Welsh Harlequins, the mama ducks

We ordered our incubator from Amazon and timed our egg pick-up around some weekend trips we had planned to be sure we'd be home to turn and tend to them properly.

Gathering Eggs:

The eggs were laid on Sunday and Monday, and gathered on Tuesday morning.

Eggs gathered from the coop and transported in our lunch cooler.

We carefully placed all the eggs into our modified egg transporter—a cooler with a hot water bottle inside—and cautiously drove the 45 minutes back to our house.

Eight cozy eggs 

The incubator was warm and ready after some tinkering earlier in the day with the heating element. We filled one of the four water reservoirs full and confirmed the temperature at 100 degrees.

With pencil in hand we wrote Os on one side and Xs on the other, placed them all O side up in the center of the incubator and set the temperature gauge resting on top. 

Newly placed eggs in a fresh incubator, the temp needed to rise after we had the top open.

Incubating Eggs:

Day one of incubation started on April 7th around 2pm.

We turned the eggs every morning when we got up, after lunch, and just before bed.  Every day turning Xs to Os and Os to Xs three times. 

Following the incubator's instructions, every few days we replenished the water in the plastic reservoir at the bottom of the incubator to regulate the humidity. Some use a wet-bulb thermometer but we used this illustration of proper air sac size as a reference for how the eggs were responding. Humidity during incubation is a big deal in hatching ducks: too much can make the ducklings grow too large to move around as needed for hatching while too little can make the ducklings too small and too weak to hatch. 

From our perspective the eggs looked just like eggs doing nothing, which drove me a little bit crazy over time. We didn’t know for certain that they were even fertilized.

On the second night we began to candle the eggs with the flashlight of my iphone and at first we could see a little round mass in front of the yoke but we couldn’t know what that meant yet. Then a few days later we saw veins. The cells were beginning to gather in a pattern to take the shape of a living little thing, with veins glowing orange as they spread each day thicker and wider inside their little egg house. At day five or six we saw the flicker of hearts beating.

By day ten the candled eggs were mostly dark as the ducklings grew to take up more space. Sometimes we could make out the shadow of a beak and little webbed feet. Backlit by our makeshift egg candler, I recognized the spastic involuntary movements of a developing embryo, like peering into the womb with an ultrasound. If you like this kind of thing check out this gestational chart of candled duck eggs. 

As the babies continued to grow, we had to adjust the temperature slightly lower to accommodate for the body heat they were generating. We kept turning and turning and turning, every day. Merritt thought he made a good mama duck and the importance of our daily effort was not lost on him.

Roscoe turning the eggs

Days turned to weeks and as we neared the 25th day of incubation we made a trip to Southern States to gather our supplies for hatching: a plastic bin, a heat lamp, baby duck crumbles, water and feed dispensers, wood chips, and meal worms for treats. 

Stylin' at Souther States

Eggs on Lock Down:

We went home and prepared for lock down, the last three days of incubation that serve to prevent turning of the eggs so the ducklings can get into the optimal position for pipping (see below) and also to allow humidity to build up in the incubator.

Because the hatching process for this breed can take up to three days, proper humidity remains especially important in the last few days of incubation. If it's too low when the duckling makes the external pip, the egg's membrane can dry out and effectively shrink wrap the baby inside. We didn't want that to happen so we filled a second channel of the incubator's plastic liner with water and also added a wet hand towel.

On the 29th just before lock down I quickly candled each egg and all but one looked viable. That one seemed more cloudy inside and I couldn't make out any distinct movements, but I wasn’t sure.

The brooder box all set up and ready for ducklings.

The eggs were laid on as many as three different days, so in consideration of those eggs laid on the 5th and 6th of April, we put them all on lockdown a few days early. I'm not sure this was necessary but it didn't seem to hurt. In hindsight, even though the eggs were fertilized on different days, gestation was suspended until we put them all in the incubator together on the 7th and the eggs were warmed to the correct temperature. This is a trick of mother nature to suspend development for up to a week in order to accommodate a mama duck's pattern of laying an egg or two every day for 7 or 8 days before setting on her nest to brood.

Pipping, Zipping, and Hatching

When a duckling is ready to hatch the first thing she does is use her beak to break through the air cell and to breath air on her own. This is called the internal pip. Sometimes the egg rocks around a bit at this point, and often you can hear the duckling peeping inside. Hours or even a day later the duckling will make a little dent in the egg shell that you can see from the outside—the external pip. Then hours, or even days later (in our case) the duckling will "zip" and make a little row of pips from which it will eventually emerge. The waiting is the hardest part and during this time the duckling is doing all the things that we know and don't know about in order to be born, like absorb what remains of the yolk, which provides a 24-hour supply of nutrition for hatchlings in the domesticated wild as mama duck continues to brood her remaining eggs yet-to-hatch and also makes it possible for hatchery chicks to be transported without food or water through the mail to new homes.

You can read more here about what hatching looks like from pip to zip.

For us it was a long week of waiting because nothing happened until Sunday May 3rd, FIVE days after we put the incubator on lock down. During that time I second guessed everything we had done and even opened the incubator to add more water, which is a big no no! When I could hear some cheeps and some egg wobbles coming from the incubator I guessed the chicks had internally pipped, which made all of us practically burst with excitement.

On Monday one egg had an external pip, and by Tuesday there were four more with external pips, but still no hatchlings. 

On Wednesday morning the first egg zipped and at around 7pm that evening three babies hatched nearly at the same time!

We were supposed to leave the incubator closed to preserve the humidity for the other babies still working on zipping, and to prevent wet hatchlings from getting too chilly but our little ducks had long legs and once they got their bearings they could stand pretty close to the burning hot heating element in the roof of the incubator. Having burned myself a few times I definitely did not want them to even brush against it so I opened the lid and the boys transferred the ducks to their new home in the brooder.

That night I woke at three in the morning and followed the red glow radiating from the light of the heat lamp to peek in at the babies in the brooder and to peer into the incubator in case any others needed to be transferred. The anticipation felt a little like Christmas. 

The brooder box with five hatchlings. Roscoe and Merritt took advantage of the lighting for a new star wars scene.

On Thursday another baby was born before we left for preschool, and as dinner time approached frantic peeps from another duckling called us to the incubator yet again. When we tried to move him he was still attached by his umbilical cord so we waited a little longer to transfer him. 

Meanwhile, the questionable eighth egg was starting to turn colors, a bad sign. We later decided to see what was going on inside and as it turns out that little one probably died about a week before the hatch. 

Thursday night the 6th baby hatched, and we woke up Friday morning to the chirping of a newly hatched seventh.  

Altogether incubation lasted thirty-one days and hatching was spread out over three. This breed generally has a 27 day incubation but variables of temperature and humidity can have an impact. 

Ducklings

At first the babies slept a lot. Their new little bodies working hard just to be, tired from days of pipping and zipping and hatching. But once their feathers dried they were quite entertaining. One of my favorite memories was walking into the kitchen to find them huddled together, simultaneously hushed for a few moments, their heads nodding off like drowsy old men. Then one downy head popped up with a cheep to startle the rest into a high speed waddle-sprint for their crumble feed—little webbed feet thwapping with each step, and a total disregard for any siblings in their path. The boys came to take a look and as I started working on breakfast I overheard their voices, "Gentle, be kind to your brothers!"

Another fun time with the ducklings was bathtime. Of course they love water and the bathtub was a perfect place for them to play. We filled it up just a half inch of warm water and they spent a long time preening and splashing, and darting the length of the tub leaving long wakes behind them. 

Cutest little ducks you ever did see.

Another thing I appreciated about the ducklings was how vocal they were, like little alarm clocks, or watchdogs. Once, the heat lamp accidentally unplugged and they all started chirping in alarm, which prompted me to get out of bed to check on them, thank goodness! The temperature of their box also had to be adjusted as they got older and better able to regulate their own body temperatures. If their box was too hot they would spread out and chirp, too cool and they would huddle together and chirp. If they were quiet then I knew they are happy. 

The kids couldn't wait to share the ducklings with Merritt's classroom so we took them for a couple hours on one of the last weeks of school. 

Show and tell at Preschool

As they got a little older we let them forage around in the back yard for short intervals under the kids' watchful eyes. 

A photographer and his muse

Two weeks after they were born the brooder was cramped and the ducklings were eating a half bag of feed a day and requiring daily or twice daily litter changes—too much for me to keep up with!

We drove them back out the farm and passed them off to their new home with a real lake, and a whole flock family.

Saying goodbye

The ducklings return home!

Two New Perspectives From Our First Year of Homeschool

Summer with my wild things

In our first year of homeschool I grew beyond my own perceived limits of time and energy and even fed my hearty appetite for solitude, all the while mentoring Roscoe to meet his own challenges and to dig more deeply and joyfully into his learning. It was a year spent navigating family life as we do, with an added layer of personal responsibility for Roscoe's kindergarten education.

At different times throughout last year—certainly in the many months leading up to September after we made our decision to homeschool, and then periodically throughout the Fall—I could feel myself leaning in to a lingering whisper that demanded to know where all these days of play and work were taking us. Was it really true that I could only take this one day at a time?

How would my personality and his personality, our strengths and weaknesses and interests co-exist, and grow, and where would we be at the end of the year? Would Roscoe learn to read? Would he learn to write his name? Could our homeschool really be everything he needed and could I be satisfied in my singular role having set aside most everything else at that point to pursue this path of motherhood and homeschool?

Learning to live with uncertainty this year—all the practice I've had just sitting with my uncomfortable feelings of NOT knowing, and without guarantee of anything be it homeschool or mothering, for that matter—has helped me to find peace in the process of work unfolding without the burden or pressure of expectation. I make no assumption about where Roscoe's work will take him, or the pace at which it will develop, or the form it will take on. I may have said that before, but I really mean it now.

I've expanded this mindset to also release myself from pursuing a burning need I often feel to analyze the details of how my own professional work will develop, as I am only one person, and my career ideas and dreams are bigger than our life can hold at the moment. I'm not worried though, because there will be time for it all. Just not right now.

I'm beginning to embrace the idea that life is simply a series of projects amassed over time. Relief seeps into my core at this notion of a life's work because it grants me permission to indulge my whims and curiosities, and to be moved by my energy when it flows, gathering new ideas and inspiration along the way to pursue what is meaningful when it is meaningful and letting go of expectations for myself when it no longer feels so.

Another theme to emerge from this year is a renewed trust in my mothering. When the boys were young I was naively and rightfully certain that my instincts were true. I believed wholeheartedly in my mothering self from the moment I became a mother, maybe even before that. Of course no one can know everything, but I was certain that I could see my babies for the little beings that they were, and I could listen to them and know them and meet their needs without fail when I honored my own instinctive desire to act on their behalf—in giving birth to them, in feeding them and sleeping with them, in setting boundaries and giving them freedom to explore their independence.

When the boys were young my early parenting decisions were sheltered in the safety and privacy of our home, and I readily dismissed the high stakes and demands of modern motherhood as our culture markets it to us. It was easier then though. This past year as we moved beyond and into the elementary years, I felt a shift, our parenting choices less private and on greater display than ever before. We are out in the community at times when other kids are typically in a classroom. Family and friends can't help but weigh in on our homeschool, a difficult conversation to entirely avoid—I'll admit—when they meet Roscoe's cool enthusiasm for kindergarten-at-home in response to standard pleasantries like, "How old are you?" and "What grade are you in?"

With Roscoe moving one day at a time further from the standards of the Common Core as we peel away to pursue something of our own making—and with growing awareness for what his public and private school counterparts are doing—I've entertained my own thoughts of time lost if our homeschool doesn't pan out, and just what would happen then?

The last year and a half I've been challenged to be unaffected "by what everyone else is doing." Always a devil's advocate and unafraid to unearth every stone big or small until I am satisfied, in temporary moments of weakness I've sat with the possibility that there could exist some thing that he needs that I don't have to give, or that I can't harness for him, or that I can't help him to harness for himself. In my heart of hearts though, I don't believe these sentiments apply to our homeschool any more than they do to mothering in general. Haven't we all wondered this at one time or another, homeschooling or not?

Sure, it can feel vulnerable to do what everyone else is not doing, but with some perspective on this first year I've found courage and new confidence in how all these pieces relate to each other in the bigger scheme of our life. I may have felt unsure for a while there, talking myself through and putting on a brave face, wondering what's the worst that could happen? But after this year, intimately involved and actively practicing our intentions, I truly feel a new level of trust in my boys' learning process, and in myself as their mother and mentor.

PBH kindergarten was everything I hoped it would be. Constrained by very little and free to do as we pleased, our time was ours, our schedule was ours, and every day was a new adventure no matter where we landed.

A whole school year has passed, our first together, and we're grounded now on the other side having better learned how to pursue our interests in the context of our relationships and family life.

We are so free. Free to be our true selves, undefined by the expectations of a culture to which we don't particularly identify. The happy realization through this last year has been to find out that living up to our own expectations is more than enough.

That time I was surprised to choose homeschool, and is it more or less work than I anticipated: Part II of the Work/Life/Self Series Guest Post

In a three part interview I'm answering questions from Sarah at Next Page, New Chapter on topics ranging from career to homeschool and self care.

Sarah and I worked for the same company in my pre-baby DC days and I'm so happy we've stayed connected over the years through our writing. She's a mama to one fiery red-head and balances a full-time job (and insane commute) with all her other pursuits. Like the rest of us she's curious how other mothers navigate work and motherhood.

Today in Part II Sarah asks about that time I was surprised to choose homeschool, and the big question: Is it more or less work than I anticipated?

You can jump to the full interview HERE.  Just Joining Us? Catch up on Part I and Part III.

S: From reading your blog posts, you seemed somewhat surprised at yourself by making the decision to homeschool. Can you discuss which factors led to your decision, and do you anticipate a time when one of your children might be homeschooled but another might prefer a different environment?

J: It’s true, I had a little identity crisis when it looked as if we were leaning toward choosing homeschool for Roscoe’s kindergarten year! I just never thought of myself as someone who would choose to homeschool—I imagined elementary school as an opportunity to ramp up my work hours, and I carried some preconceived ideas about who homeschools and why and how, and based on those assumptions I just never envisioned our family as the homeschooling kind. Ah but things changed!

(Read the rest...)

Read the Full Interview at Sarah's blog Next Page New Chapter where I also answer the question Is homeschooling more or less work than you anticipated?

Copyright @marblesrolling.blogspot.com

Join in the discussion, we'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences on mothering and schooling and work/life integration!

We are featured in Home School Life Magazine's Winter Issue!

We are thrilled to be featured in Home School Life Magazine's Winter 2015 Issue!

Amy and Shelli created an issue sampler to share and included our spread in the sneak peek.

You can read the full interview here.

For all my homeschool friends who may be interested in learning more about the magazine and/or subscribing (digital subscriptions are available now but PRINT will be happening soon) you can check out their website at homeschoollifemag.com.

Homeschool: Let Go or Be Dragged

The start of the school year came and went for us without fanfare. Roscoe’s pre-schoolmates and the kids of most of my friends had started kindergarten by September 2nd, but the boys and I remained in Summer mode as we waited for the 9th to roll around. Eager for Fall’s arrival we spent what would have been Roscoe’s first official day of kindergarten picking apples in the humid heat atop a mountain in Charlottesville, and then roaming the promenade downtown for gelato.

The boys’ first day of school did eventually arrive, and the combination of a truncated preschool schedule and Merritt being slow to warm up to his new routine meant that Roscoe and I didn’t get the one-on-one project time we had planned for that week—though we were able to make up for it in the afternoons, the three of us.

First Day of Homeschool 2014

First Day of Preschool 2014, Merritt is pleased that he has his own decorated cubby

I’m very quickly developing an appreciation for the non linear unfolding of homeschool life.  It really does require a long term view or big picture perspective as the day to day happenings may or may not reflect our hopes or intentions. 

Let go or be dragged.

Our first month of homeschool has been a lot more relaxed and a lot more fun than I expected. The first week was awesome; Roscoe was so focused on dissecting, showing his brother the finished specimens, drawing them, taking pictures of his work, and watching dissection videos online. By the second week he he had satisfied his curiosity after dissecting eight animals, (which was actually accomplished over 4 weeks because he started this work in August) and next he wanted to practice computer skills; he wanted to watch documentaries about dinosaurs, and play make believe dinosaur games, and make animal habitats, and animal fort/dens for he and his brother to play in; he wanted to play animal charades; he wanted to go to Starbucks and order and pay for his own food. In the third week he called himself a mad scientist and made bubbling, oozing experiments in the back yard with self chosen ingredients from around the house, then changed direction again and asked to go for a nature hike, to scale the big ravine walls, to go to another coffee shop to play games from the game shelf. He’s requested trips to the library to play computer games and to check out books on everything from castles and knights, to secret agents, police, and military weapons. 

Roscoe's interests have rapidly taken on a life of their own. Some days I wonder where this homeschooling gig is taking us, but I can't help but marvel at his enthusiasm and joy for learning about the world around him.

Dinosaur play and documentaries

Smoothies and the introduction of Mancala

Successful rockwall scaling

Library mornings

Last week I introduced clay to the playroom and we had a collaborative making session contributing different pieces to a forest scene with caves, snakes, worms, snails, lizards, and other small creatures. This week we searched for different kinds of clay and bought some tools to expand their skills and exploration. Roscoe built onto the previous week’s theme and made a big sea serpent and added a bee hive to the inside of his cave, as he figured out how to twist the clay into a hive and pinch out plates on the back of the serpent.

3D representations in clay

We’ve made it to a few playdates at the park with our local homeschool groups, and friends. We’ve jumped right into Maker Monday’s with a handful of boys and girls ranging in age from 3 to 11 years to build and dismantle and explore together in the woods. 

A new friend showed Roscoe how to catch and hold chickens at Maker Monday

Working together to build a fort, learning how to use new tools, exploring 12 acres of family farm

We’re enjoying getting to know some other elementary school families while working along side them in the GROW Community Garden at a local private school that shares our learning philosophy.

Turning mulch, watering the beds, pulling weeds

All this to say that our homeschooling so far is feeling very UNSCHOOLING to me, which I’m coming to terms with. I’m open to following the unschooling path, and it does feel good for us right now. I also have to keep reminding myself that Roscoe is just five years old. He’s learning things! He’s learning how to ask questions, how to find answers, and he’s understanding himself better: how he likes to spend his time, what his interests are, and different ways to explore them. He’s made big strides in writing his name, and recognizing letters, and he’s learning about a lot of different kinds of making materials and ways to express his ideas. We’re enjoying our time together, which says a lot, and we’re meeting new people and experiencing new things every single day. 

Roscoe seems to be running with the freedom that he has to choose how he spends his project time. I can see one obvious project theme of animals/nature emerging, and several others that aren't as well documented: building and law enforcement. I imagine he'll settle into a deeper long-term project at some point, but we're not in a rush.  

Anticipation for the start of our school year has peaked and I’m happy to note that it’s still just us, doing what we always do but with a little homeschool twist. That the transition has been smooth and no big deal, really, comes as a surprise and a relief for this Type-A mama. That I’m having fun and enjoying the way our days play out is a sign that this is a good fit for me too.

Roscoe's Plan for the First Week of Homeschool: animal dissection

The latest branch of Roscoe's inquiry into the animal world—his first and enduring passion—comes in the form of dissection. It's something he has expressed interest in for many months now and began with a desire to dissect a snake after he viewed a particular documentary about anacondas. Then, over the summer, after finding several eastern box turtles on various hikes he decided a turtle would be better.

We went online and looked at the different animals available and while he could have chosen either a snake or a turtle, he was enticed by a dissection kit that included seven different specimens of various anatomical complexity: a worm, grasshopper, crayfish, clam, starfish, perch, and frog. He liked that the kit came with all the special tools he would need.

At first, his interest reminded me fondly of my own dissection experiences in highschool and college biology, but then I came to wonder why he wanted to cut open and dissect nature's little creatures. Eventually though, I realized that he is just genuinely curious about what animals look like on the inside, and he likes the close-up view and intimate exploration that the dissection experience provides.

***

Sunday night I sit down with Roscoe to touch base and to discuss what he hopes to accomplish in the week ahead.

He scowls and says, “Well I don’t want to just have a conversation. That’s boring! I want to type.” So I say sure, and bring my computer to the table. He helps type in my password and then I open up a new document and type at the top: Roscoe’s Plan for the Week. 

He sits in his chair on one side of the table and I find my place across from him. I point to his bulletin board on the dining room wall and read off some of the ideas that he’s had in the last few weeks: create habitats, construct dens or forts for animals, answer the question: "How do I handle venomous, non-venomous and constrictor snakes, and scorpions?", see a baby logger head turtle....

“Do you want to work on any of those ideas this week?" I ask.

He seems genuinely disinterested but continues to type with much enthusiasm. Tap, tap, tap! 

After a moment he stops typing and peers over the monitor to say, “Oh, yeah! I want to order a new animal to dissect.” Then he's back to typing. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I remind him that he still has four animals left in the dissection kit that we ordered a few weeks ago and ask, “Would you like to finish dissecting the animals you have before you order a new one?” 

He says yes, he wants to dissect the rest of the animals in one day, and declares he will dissect the clam first. He wonders how he will open the clam, and then quickly answers his own question, “I think I’ll use the scalpel to pry it open.”

"Good idea." I say. “Ok, so we’ll work on dissecting the animals you have, and we’ll start with the clam. When you’re done, we can order a new animal.”

“A pig!” He shouts with a grin. 

Then he turns his computer screen to show me the text he has typed and asks me to show him the words he has spelled. I scan through the lines, and highlight in blue the words “yoyo,” “my,” and “poo.”

Here are a few photos from the frog and perch dissections. (He's also dissected the starfish.)

Counting and comparing frog fingers and toes to his own

Practicing proper technique for disposable glove removal 

Drawing frogs post-dissection

Preparing for the Homeschool Year

Early morning in the woods, North Carolina

Summer still feels in full swing but the calendar says it's winding down. Our first homeschooling year begins in just a few weeks and some of you have expressed curiosity about what we are doing to prepare and plan for it. My last post on feeling good but protective of our decision to homeschool was written as part of this post but I pulled it apart to publish separately. Along those same lines, however, sharing the specifics of what we are doing this year feels a little uncomfortable. I know that confidence will come with experience and that I will eventually (hopefully soon!) move past this period of sensitivity to outside opinion, but for now it does feel awkward to write out my very in-progress process here for all to see. But I still want to share it. :)

For the better part of a year Andy and I have had casual but ongoing conversations about our goals for Roscoe in this first year of homeschooling. We recently folded him into the discussion to capture his goals and to incorporate what he is interested in and wants to know more about. Archery! Dissection! Guns! Cooking! Guitar! He has lots of ideas. I've compiled our collective brainstorms and in addition to, and separate from, our intention to use the PBH approach to support his interests, we've identified some topics and skills that we think will benefit his independence and help him to grow into the best Roscoe he can be, as we like to say around here.

Some of our big ideas:

• This year we will explore artistic representation methods and learn what we can and cannot do with different making materials so that when he has an idea he will have the skills needed to adequately express it: textures, movement, color, three dimensional media, drawing and painting. I'm using the The Language of Art to guide our explorations in this area.
• Nature is our outdoor classroom and we'll continue spending as much time outside as we can throughout all the seasons. In addition to our usual, Marr Science offers well-loved science courses for kids of all ages and I've enrolled Roscoe for a 5-week course in the Fall that will explore science through movement. 
• I want to continue to foster his sense of self, family, home, and community in a way that gives him a better understanding of how and where he fits in. I see this happening organically through our regular interactions at home and within our different circles. 
• I also want to engage him more intentionally in what goes on in our family kitchen; to continue to share my love of food prep and making through basic cooking skills that will build his confidence and extend an opportunity for Roscoe to contribute to our weekly meals.
• Same goes for adapting the environment and our parental expectations to increase his responsibility and independence at home.  
• In the last few months I've begun to introduce Spanish vocabulary through our daily conversations, and the kids are eager learners.
• Regular play dates with his friends, and other children from various groups that we belong to, as well as invitations for friends to join us in our weekly activities and to work on projects together will come as we can work them in. 
• I want to continue to facilitate Roscoe and Merritt's brotherhood.

When I look at this list I have to shrug my shoulders because most of these ideas are what we do and would be doing regardless of whether Roscoe was homeschooling. Even so, it is a helpful exercise to take time to think through the intersection of our home life, Roscoe's personality, and home education. Articulating these ideas (and posting them where I can easily reference them) helps me to keep an eye on our intentions and to remember the specifics.

The most Homeschool-y thing that we will do this year will be the portion of his learning that we set aside for project based inquiries: emergent, child-led, interest-based work that I will actively mentor him through. I'll report back on that part once we get started.

We are truly excited to move into this next phase of our life together, and sharing the last couple of mostly-solo months with the boys has shown me how our time can ideally be spent, what routines work well for us right now and how to harness their un-ending energy for good. Of equal value, I've confirmed yet again—by virtue of not having most of these things this Summer—what I will need to feel happy and sane and purposeful beyond mothering this year: loads of self-care (good sleep, good food, time with friends and Andy, and time to exercise), a few child-free hours a week to stay on top of my list of family to-dos, and dedicated time for pleasure writing. I’m narrowing in on my personal formula for success (Finally, after five years!) and it feels so doable now that I've made the other big decision to not pursue paid work this year.

Merritt will be in preschool either three or five day a week, depending on if he makes the birthdate cut-off for the 3 or 4 year old class. I requested five days in anticipation of wanting dependable one-on-one project time with Roscoe every week, but I think five days may be a lot for Merritt, not to mention the ways that the daily preschool schedule will constrain our at-home routine. We are spoiled by Summer's freedom from imposed schedules.

Looking forward, I've let go of the idea of an uber organized and structured introduction to homeschooling life in favor of allowing these first few months to be a slow ramping up to where we hope to get to in terms of a learning rhythm and routine. I have a feeling that Roscoe may not jump right into something that looks like an obvious project and that it may take some time before he settles into a groove and focuses on what feels like authentic project work. I can guarantee that I will be learning as I go, practicing observation and documentation of his process, practicing using the right language to facilitate his learning process, and continuing to make my own personal learning and doing processes more transparent for him to model.

I'm not sure what the year is going to look like yet but I'm looking ahead only as far as the next season will take me. September. October. November. Little steps to big goals.

Homeschooling Insecurities

Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens, children's garden

I hear that parents of homeschooled children are often told they should get used to feeling like they aren't doing enough, and that routinely second guessing their effort is normal. I'm already appreciating the ways that homeschooling is going to stretch me and demand that I reach hard for this. I've said it before but this is way outside my comfort zone, and yet it still feels like the clearest choice for us.

Right now I can't imagine a better way forward.

While I'm confident about our decision, my feelings are still mixed. Everything we did up to the point of deciding to homeschool has done away with my biggest worries and concerns, and that feels really good. Even the wonder about my ability to meet my own needs in the midst of the added responsibilities that homeschooling will bring has dissipated tremendously over the last few months. What I grapple with now is a familiar vulnerability.

In the same way I guarded what was precious knowledge at the time—my decision to give birth at home—I find myself guarding the plans we make for homeschooling. I feel uncomfortably open to judgement and want desperately to shed the pangs of needing to prove myself or justify my decision to others; if i'm honest it is a moot effort to even discuss this very personal decision with those who can't understand it. It's as hot as any political topic I've ever cared about.

Unlike birth at home, which is a private event and in our case lasted only a few hours, I sometimes wish that homeschool didn't span an entire childhood and that it was an easier choice to keep hidden when I don't feel like going there. But Roscoe is so loud and proud and happy to know he is homeschooling and I want to be equally so. I'll have to continue to balance my introvertedness and my insecurities about being misunderstood by those who are close to us, and focus instead on sharing my heart with those who are truly open and interested in supporting us on our journey.

At least until I find my own true confidence in this process.

The process that will teach me how to do it better. A process that I'll probably get wrong in order to learn how to do it right.

We'll get there. I know it.

I have to believe that there is more than one way for children to be well educated and prepared to live a life of their own choosing.

This post was inspired by a recent online class on PBH journaling that I took with Lori Pickert from The Camp Creek Blog. 

How We Came to Homeschool Part 4: Looking forward to kindergarten

This is the last post in a four Part series about how we came to our decision to homeschool. 

If you want to catch up on the rest, check out

Part 1: Let me Begin at the Beginning
Part 2: Saying Yes to the BoldHeart Life, Saying Yes to Homeschooling
Part 3: Calming the Fear and Moving Beyond

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The preschool year ends on May 29th, the same day we'll be heading north to coastal Maine for an extended Summer vacation. I'm planning to take advantage of all the natural learning opportunities that we'll encounter there by getting plenty of PBH journaling practice in while we are away. When we return home in the first of week of August I'll refocus my attention to readying myself for a September start to the upcoming school year.

Fortunately, the three most important aspects of my preparation are already in place. I've reorganized the main spaces in the house to encourage Roscoe's independence and to maximize everyone's ability to enjoy spreading out and getting to work (this was part of my homework for the PBH Master Class), my journal lies in wait, and we have integrated into our routine dedicated project time by virtue of the fact that Merritt will be in preschool for a couple hours each morning of the week. Of course, Roscoe will be able to work on his projects at any time, but we'll both benefit from having an hour or two set aside every morning when he can expect my undivided attention.

Sometimes planning long-range can feel overwhelming, so another feature of PBH that gives me peace about homeschooling is that I don't have to write weekly or yearly lesson plans. The curriculum is child-led and emergent so I need only to observe, document, and mentor Roscoe's process and help him to dig deeper into his interests as he explores them. I love the simplicity of it.

We'll continue to look to nature and the changing seasons to inspire our activities throughout the year, exploring art, the great outdoors, our community, and whatever else strikes our fancy.  Although we are taking an informal approach to the kindergarten year, I am looking into a play-based elementary Spanish course offered through a local homeschooling academy. One day I hope we can all be conversationally fluent.

I also made a list of the themes and holidays that I want to acknowledge or celebrate in a timely way—this isn't really homeschooling related but knowing that he won't have that structure outside our house has compelled me to make it one of my priorities. I'm sure that developing a new daily routine will be in order too as we transition into new and different ways of spending our time together and apart, with Roscoe at home and Merritt in preschool 5 days a week. Eventually, I look forward to letting go of the construct of the "school year" all together so that we can really take advantage of the flexibility that living off the grid offers to all of us--maybe working year round or perhaps taking off the Winter or other portion of the year as it appeals to us.  

I'm still considering local co-ops and other opportunities for Roscoe to routinely work and play with his peer group. I've started conversations with some of the families of his preschool buddies to create opportunities for them to continue their friendships but the kids are all headed to different school districts next year so I'm thinking it may be a challenge as our need for social time outside of school hours will likely be higher than theirs. I've considered starting a project-based group or a lego club, but also feel that the newness of all of this may be more than enough for me to tackle in the first year. I would love to join in with an already established and thriving group of families, but I haven't found it just yet.

I gather that homeschooling life is ever-evolving and there's still so much I don't know but I'm just going to go for it and learn through doing.

If you're a homeschooling mama do you have any tips or advice to offer? I would love to hear!

How We Came to Homeschool Part 3: Calming the fear and moving beyond

This is Part 3 in a series about how we came to our decision to homeschool. 

Catch up on previous posts in the series:
Part 1: Let me begin at the beginning 
Part 2: Saying yes to the BoldHeart Life, saying yes to homeschool

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While I loved the overarching promise of how PBH could enrich our lifestyle and family culture as one that supports and promotes meaningful work, I still needed to find my confidence in homeschooling in general, which was buried in fear that choosing to homeschool would deprive Roscoe of something crucial—information, skills, relationships, or experiences. I wanted to be confident enough to think outside the box of education as I've always known it. I wanted to see how far we could carry this homeschooling gig past kindergarten. I wanted to explore the data and I wanted to to know what is best in education.

You can read all about Project Based Homeschooling at the Camp Creek Blog, but the gist is this (excerpted from the What Is PBH? primer) :

Project-based homeschooling combines your child’s genuine interests with long-term, deep, complex learning. It is the part of your curriculum when you mentor your child to help him learn how to direct and manage his own learning.

PBH works with any homeschooling method, and it can be a way to unschool. It is the essential portion [you get to decide how big that portion will be] of your child’s learning life when you devote time to helping him do his own self-chosen, self-motivated work. 

• You create a space dedicated to doing meaningful work, set up to both attract your child and allow him to work independently. 
• You offer him an interesting variety of high-quality materials and tools. 
• You build blocks of time into your routine for project-related learning, making, and doing — time when you are available to support and mentor. 
• You become a trusted resource who will take him where he needs to go and help him meet his own goals. 
• He provides the interest and the ideas, so his work is self-motivated. You help him keep track of his plans, intentions, and questions.

—Lori Pickert, Project Based Homeschooling 

It was easy for me to see right away the logical connection between this approach and say, art or the natural sciences, but how would his interests organically arch to complex mathematics or the physical sciences like chemistry? How would Roscoe learn to read? Do homeschooled kids go to college, and how? Would Roscoe be a weird kid and then a weird adult? (I don't mean only in the sense of being different from his public or private schooled peers, but would homeschooling affect his affinity for meaningful relationships with co-ed friends and eventually romantic love?) What about socialization, and how much extra effort and added responsibility would be required to create opportunities for him to develop friendships outside the context of compulsory school days? What quintessential childhood memories would he miss out on by not attending traditional school? Would he be "well rounded", and is that even important? What opportunities are available to homeschooled kids for joining sports teams and other extracurricular activities? How would he learn a foreign language? Would he be satisfied later with the choices that we're making for him now?

At the same time that I worried about how I would facilitate Roscoe's academic experience, I also worried about how choosing to homeschool would affect my life. I had for the last five years assumed that when Roscoe turned five he would be off to school every day for much of the day, which would free up my time for another baby or a return back to full-time work, perhaps. Our commitment to homeschooling the boys would mean no school day away. Ever. Could I handle a pregnancy and another baby in addition to this new responsibility to homeschooling? What about my career, would I ever have the time or desire to go back to work? How would I carve out time in our schedule to pursue my personal interests and work, and nurture my need for time alone? Could I be a good mother and a good mentor? Would choosing to homeschool even further isolate my mothering experience? Would I be able to hack the homeschooling lifestyle—would our time together crowd out other (better) influences, and would it serve to magnify the less than perfect parts of me? What if it was a negative experience for all of us? And frankly, who did I think I was to take on both these roles, I know nothing about any of this education stuff!?

It was easy to feel overwhelmed by all the what-ifs, so before I got too carried away I bought the book Project-Based Homeschooling. I needed to understand the big and little ideas of PBH to know if it was truly a good fit for us. Through reading the book I fell in love with the method. I felt that if we were to choose to homeschool, PBH was definitely for us!

I began to furiously research every facet of doubt, worry, or wonder. I started a Home Education Pinterest board to bookmark articles on the topics that resonated with my thinking process.

In January I met with Roscoe’s preschool teachers to discuss his personality and learning style, his strengths and weaknesses academically and socially, and to get their perspective on what they thought would be the best learning environment for him. Public school, Waldorf, homeschool? While I was excited about the opportunities that homeschooling offered to our family as a whole, was it the right fit for Roscoe? I wanted to hear their perspective on everything.

Then, in an effort to learn more about what homeschool looks like in real life, I had coffee with several local homeschooling mamas to hear what the experience is/was for them, what methods and curriculum they used, how the decision played out for them over the years, what their children thought about it then and now, and what their kids are up to these days. Every meeting inspired confidence in the process, and encouraged me to take small steps in my own journey.

In February I enrolled in a 6 week online PBH Master Class that bridged the gaps in my knowledge about the method and the nuances of its implementation. I joined the forum and had direct access to Lori for all my specific questions. While I initially thought we would "unschool" through exclusive PBH, I realized that we want to also incorporate some academics after the kindergarten year.

Last month I attended two introductory sessions at the VAHomeschoolers Conference, Homeschooling 101: Homeschooling for the Non-Homeschooler, which helped me to see how my family fits in statistically with the larger homeschooling community, and Beginning Homeschool an overview of the law and getting started. I'm already looking forward to attending the full conference next year.

It has been a steep learning curve and while there have certainly been days when I felt like I was having an identity crisis, through my research and exploration of our decision I am feeling very comfortable and confident to trust myself, and trust my kids, as I always have in my role as their mother.

I don't know what is the best environment or approach to education, but I do know that traditional methods are not the only way to instill a love of learning, or to help children become strong thinkers, learners, and doers for success in a life of their own choosing. Homeschooling is one option in the patchwork of educational choices available to us, and to choose the best method of education for my kids, and for my family, feels as deeply personal as any other parenting decision that I've been charged to make so far. Roscoe's memories of his childhood and of his learning will be just as good as mine were, they will just be different. Yes I sometimes wonder if I am cut out for this, but I don't want to choose not to homeschool based on a fear that I am not good enough. I feel called to the challenge, and I am motivated by the potential rewards of negotiating and navigating authentic and lifelong relationships with my sons. There are few things more important to me.

Just as I trust that the boys will become skilled thinkers and learners, accept and work through their mistakes, and ultimately find out what they are good at and what inspires them, I trust that I will find my way as their mentor. I'm giving myself permission and opportunity to learn and grow alongside them. I doubt this first year will work out exactly as I imagine. I don't think it will be easy, but parenting never is! I truly hope that homeschooling will be for us everything that it promises to be, and that we will forever homeschool but our intention is to take it one year at a time and always remain sensitive to everyone's needs.

Next up, Part 4: Looking Forward to Kindergarten

How We Came to Homeschool Part 2: Saying yes to the BoldHeart Life, saying yes to homeschooling

This is Part 2 in a series about how we came to our decision to homeschool. 

If you haven't already, check out Part 1: Let Me Start at The Beginning

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My favorite fridge magnet from the lovely Colette Paperie

A few weeks ago we received an acceptance letter from the Waldorf School for Roscoe's kindergarten year. I waited until the very last day to respond knowing that it would make our decision final. In my note I shared that we had recently made the unexpected decision to homeschool and that Roscoe would not be enrolling for the 2014-2015 school year. The Director's message back was to the point: “Well, that is a surprise!”

After years of assuming that our kids would attend public school, and then the last two and a half years spent establishing a relationship with the local Waldorf school in anticipation of that kindergarten acceptance letter I wholeheartedly agree, it has been a rather quick and unexpected change of heart. I’m giving myself at least a few months to let it fully sink in.

I rely on my short and long term plans, which umbrella numerous lists and goals. If it's in my head it gets put on paper. The exercise gives me mental clarity and a sense of direction while it also offers some semblance of control. Though I haven't always given myself the freedom to change my mind or to stray from the Plan, my mothering presents a very compelling circumstance. The big and little decisions I make deserve my full attention, particularly the ones that affect my kids, my work, and our family life. Allowing myself flexibility to diverge from even the best laid plan gives me the greatest chance to get it right, to grow with my kids, and to give everyone a voice in how our journey unfolds.

I’ll never say never again. 

Back in December Andy and I shared some wild conversations in the dazzling calm that followed Christmas. By wild I just mean that I doubt our former childless selves would have guessed that their future parent selves would be the kind of people who give birth at home, or bedshare, or breastfeed into the toddler years, or quit their jobs, or change their worldviews, or homeschool, of all things. 

I couldn't have seen it coming, but lying nose to nose in the pitch darkness of winter provokes courage in the same way that difficult or passionate discussions are often made easier by riding in a car while staring out of the window at the streetlamps passing or far off into the distance where the sky meets the road. In the face-close of night, the illusion of infinite space exists to fill it up with what you really mean to say, to be bold with new ideas that come to life and grow big above our heads and then drift late into the sleeping hours. And that moment when I mistook Andy's silence for having fallen asleep? He surprised me with words that rang like truth, affirming my greatest hopes with his enthusiasm and support. 

I came across Lori Pickert's blog about project based homeschooling (PBH) on a whim internet search of homeschool and Reggio-Emilia—an approach I've become familiar with through the boys' preschool. Really I was just exploring the possibilities for after Roscoe's kindergarten year in an effort to look at all of our options. While I had my own misunderstandings about who homeschools, and why they homeschool, and how it looks or how their kids fare, I was immediately struck by the ways in which the PBH approach offered a natural extension of our parenting and really embodied the vision that Andy and I have long shared for our family life. Project Based Homeschooling resonated in ways that for the first time made it possible to see myself and my family as the homeschooling kind.

Homeschooling really took hold of our imaginations when we considered how we could more creatively use our time and money to live our big ideas. At the time we were considering just the kindergarten year, but what if instead of paying $7500 for private school we homeschooled and used that money to begin to travel to all the places we've always wanted to go?

I was soon on the internet reading “Top 10” and “Best Of” family vacations, pinning to my Family Travel Adventures board with wanderlust that suddenly felt surprisingly within reach.   

Admittedly, we are inexperienced travelers, particularly with children and especially internationally. We quickly tapered down our expectations and found equilibrium mapping out several small East Coast trips that we could really get excited about. When I booked a small lakehouse in Maine for 6 weeks this Summer it felt like we were really getting on to the good stuff.

With more discussion about finances, and priorities, and the life that we really craved to live, I committed to the idea of homeschooling with ~68% of my heart.

But I still had so many questions.

Up next, PART 3: Calming Fear and Moving Beyond

What's the BoldHeart life?