Grace had her 5 year check up this morning. Immediately after, I had work (photographing the teachers at our church’s preschool, individually and as a group) and then we ran errands. Even though I had planned out the whole week, and the day, school just got away from us this afternoon.
But the kids are always learning, aren’t they?
Grace decided to try out the rainbow loom. She and Joy collected random bits of nature outside and brought it all to our deck. (Which I just now, at 1:19 a.m., realized I forgot to clean up. Oops!) We read books. Grace pretended to be a musician and taught us our lessons — she started piano lessons yesterday, so we are practicing every day. We cleaned. I vacuummed while they ran from it. Grace put on her Home Depot kids workshop apron and walked around the house measuring things.
Even on an “off” day, school is in session around here.
That tiny bit of doubt crept in, “can I mark this down as a school day?” And then I thought back on my own memories of childhood. I don’t remember kindergarten. At all. But I remember sitting on the arm of my grandmother’s chair watching her make little X’s on fabric in the most beautiful patterns and colors, or embroider the designs she had ironed onto unbleached muslin; or crocheting (“knotting up yarn,” as she called it) potholders and pillows that she would give away to anyone who asked; standing at her quilting frame, every stitch made by hand.
I was worried that this art/craft/nature day “didn’t count.” It’s all that counts. Of course we’ll “do school” – Grace is starting to read, and is writing sentences on her own without asking me for help. But we’re also doing life. Together. And that’s enough.