After attending a virtual homeschooling retreat last weekend I was inspired to add some more classes to our home education curriculum. Geography and Calendar this week. Hymns and Artist Study next week.

This morning I altered our schedule to start schooling an hour earlier. I added those new subjects (they were fascinated by Geography--they all love maps with a passion) while also expanding the time spent on our previous subjects thereby raising my expectations across the board for all that we'd study each day.

But, suddenly moving from 45-60 minutes of schooling to a very intense 90 minutes was a lot to expect. Plus, I'd screwed up (immersed in my slow baking and lecture listening) and sent them to bed 30 minutes late the night before. They were all drooping so I ended the day without doing the last thing I'd planned. Oh well, it was still a good start.

The kids were relieved to leave the table. Since I had to go up and start work at my paying job I gave them their options for how they could occupy their time until the nanny arrived. I listed fun and easy things: play outside, play with toys in the attic, etc. Three solemn faces stared back at me silently. Clearly these options did not appeal.

Then the littlest girl (age 4) piped up: could she have the mythical tales book to look at? I'd promised her she could have it once we had read all the way through it--as we had that day. Surprised, but pleased, I handed her the book.

Next, the boy (age 6). Could he have his animal encyclopedia? It's his favorite. When the girls get stuffed toys to take to bed each night he gets this book "to snuggle with" as he says. I agreed. He got the book from his bed and brought it down to the couch where he climbed up next to his sister, piled pillows all around, and opened his book.

I looked at my older daughter (age 6). This is my wild child who will run till she drops, and then roll in the mud in glee. I expected her to ask to go outside. Instead, she had a thoughtful look on her face. That morning I'd pulled out an old nursery rhyme book because I wanted to show the kids stanzas and this was a quick and familiar source of poetry they know and can recite though they're pre-readers.

She'd been fascinated when I showed the kids that some of their nursery rhymes went on for many more verses. Could she have the book to look through? She's beginning to read and wanted to try sounding out some of the rhymes for herself. I said yes and dug the book back out from its long neglected place on a forgotten shelf for the second time that day.

After 90 minutes of intensive poetry memorization; oral phonics drills; introduction of a new math concept; introduction to abstract concepts of time: months, weeks, days; literature with a narration requirement; copywork with numbers, words and a drawing--done under the watchful eye of mom who will no longer allow inaccurate formation of letters--and a lengthy geography introduction comparing a globe to a map; all three of my kids' minds were hungry for more. Because even though they were fatigued by direct instruction, the slow and meaningful study of a book is familiar and restful to them. It is one of their loves.

I paused a moment on the steps before heading upstairs to look back at three heads silently bent over a book blissfully lost in study. This is why we home school.

And so, inspired by them, as soon as I finish this I will pick up my book by Susan Wise Bauer to begin giving myself the education I wish I'd had from the time I was their age.