The background to our days is laughter.
The moments are filled with making breakfast, doing the dishes, going for neighbourhood walks, wondering what kind of bird that is with black feathers, noticing a bright yellow old fashioned car driving down the street.
It is taking time to climb on bike racks, to climb a neighbour’s stone wall, to examine the group of ladybugs.
The play is constant and the joy is in that is a given. The background of my day is loud and noisy and giggling and though I love my peaceful moments, my heart is grateful for this kind of noise, the loudness of their childhood, and how I want to breathe it all in and store it away in my memory banks because everyone and their mother has told me, it goes fast, before mine were out of my tummy.
But I am at peace with it going fast because I am going about this motherhood in a way that causes me no regrets, no wishing that my babies stayed babies, no feeling sorrow at the passing days.
Instead, I have gratitude and excitement and this eagerness to know what comes next and what my children are going to experience, what they are going to find that holds their interest, what new discoveries they are going to show me.
And maybe, there might be, a distraction every once in a while, that makes me wonder about using curriculum and about when the time consumption of big projects will be and is there really learning going on here? For a while, it might seem as if nothing is happening.
But unschooling is living without measuring. It is trusting that learning is always happening, it is knowing that a quick way to darken the joy is by taking stock, so you make pancakes for dinner and pasta for breakfast and get on with the noise and the play.
But then, it all happens.
Some chalk, a water sprayer, an old toy tractor and with free, unhindered curiosity, the conversation turns to gravity and force and colour theory and “what happens if?”
And that gratitude stretches and wonders, if you would have missed this, if you were looking for the measurement of knowledge, if you were looking for the proof that this unschooling thing was working, and you vow to continue on, without taking measurements, other than in the joy and the noise.
(Friends, thank-you for staying with me and reading, I appreciate the readership!)