A Prayer for my Daughter

"How but in custom and ceremony are innocence and beauty born?" I can't go get the book to make a longer quote from a poem I once had memorised but have now mostly forgotten; it's in the kid's room and two of them are still sleeping (number two is on the porch playing Mario Cart DS because his diaper was dry this morning!). I read this poem to my daughter the other night, not that she was paying much attention and really, neither was I, but the words coming out of my mouth and into her ear had, I hope, an inspiring effect upon us for the work ahead.

Our first day of Homeschooling included playing "what time is it, Mr. Fox?" and "mother may I" (in which number two asked if he could be Yoshi, and then Yoshi-ed toward me), reviewing opposites, and some phonics). Our second day started off with a bang-- a poop explosion that is, courtesy of number 4. This necessitated a bath, and the removal and washing of the car seat cover along with a load of the previous day's clothes (laundry is being done by hand in the bathtub currently). At least we'd had a nice blueberry pancake breakfast before this event. So the kids watched a few PBS shows while I cleaned up. General family business and craziness (somewhat involving more poop) ensued, then lunch. Baby fell asleep and 1-3 and I went to the library. School-type activity! Got back and fed the baby who had woken up two minutes after I left, then read "Watch the Stars come Out," the Reading Rainbow book we were excited to find. Number one cut out some shapes I'd prepared while number number three was put down for his nap. It had gotten late, and there was more cleaning to be done and dinner to get started, but around 3:30 I sat down to do the pattern completion exercise I'd made with the older kids. Turns out Number two was better at it than Number one.

Seeing how most days tend or have to potential to go something like this, and that searching for gainful employment is our biggest priority right now, I am not sure when and how exactly we will ever begin Kindergarten in earnest. Or is that really an oxymoron? Earnest Kindergarten? When spontaneity and joy must set the stage for the wonder that precludes all true learning? Daily prayer, morning "ballet" exercises, helping to make dinner-- these are little things that can be done to provide sure footing for the searching little feet, to instill wonder with belief; "If there's no hatred in a mind,/assault and battery of the wind/ Can never tear the linnet from the leaf."