The space shuttle Endeavour flew over my head a few minutes ago. The children and I waited for it on the rooftop porch. Sam was hot and bored. “Mama, there’s an airplane,” he told me, pointing to a regular old plane flying over the Hollywood Hills. “Now I need to watch TV.” I made him wait.

I am feeling totally overwhelmed by the experience, so here are the six photos I took as it flew by.

These photos are full size and uncorrected. Click to enlarge.

(All rights reserved. Please contact me for permission if you would like to share these anywhere.)

P.S. Sam thought it was pretty damn cool.

(For “cat,” please read, “little sister.” Thank you.)

This afternoon Grace took a second nap and Sam and I got some rare one-on-one time.

We built a huge castle, using these blocks (we have two large sets), and then we knocked it down with Sam’s amazing, handmade catapult (the artist who made it does not have a website, unfortunately). After that I tried building tall, skinny structures with regular blocks. He is so good at aiming that catapult that he knocked every single one down on the first try, except for ONE which he got on the second try.

This? Is homeschool preschool. And I think it is awesome.

We are still not doing a formal curriculum (and I can’t really imagine ever starting), and I have no real plans, but I am collecting supplies for my guy!

(The picture above links to the etsy shop, whose photo I used because there was no light today.)

I first read about sandpaper letters on Sew Liberated, which is the blog formerly known as Montessori By Hand. I do not agree with a lot of things in Montessori theory, but there is a lot in there that I do like. (I won’t get into many specifics, partly because I am tired and partly because I am not very knowledgeable about it.) This tutorial on making your own letters also includes an explanation of how they are used. The idea, in short, is to trace the letters and speak them phonetically with the child.

I’m not sure how Sam will feel about these. He is, well, not very fond of things that are supposed to be played with in a certain way. Which I think is wonderful! But it makes it a little difficult for me sometimes. I don’t really anticipate using these “normally” (i.e. as intended) but I hope Sam will be interested in them.

What happens when you take two artistic homebodies and match them with a ball of energy?

Well, you know. Like any parents we are floundering along, doing our best. It’s been an interesting couple of weeks — in between financial woes and illness, Will and I have spent a lot of time talking about the lifestyle changes we want to make so that Sam’s interests aren’t ignored for our own comfort levels.

I’d already been spending a lot of thought on how I want to facilitate his interests and encourage him. I’m hesitant to use the word education here, because it has so many implications and I don’t want to get into all that, but basically I am thinking about his education. Bethany mentioned how hard it is to sift through the options, which was quite timely on the heels of Lori’s post about choosing the perfect curriculum. I was raised an unschooler, following my own interests. My parents were awesome, and quite actively involved, and I’ve always assumed we would follow suit pretty closely — at least in as much as we would not follow a curriculum, but rather Sam’s interests.

What does that mean? So far, mostly observation. I have a running list of things Sam has shown interest in. It’s by no means complete. Some of the items are kind of silly, but I don’t think that means they should be dismissed. I mean, if I assume that his kicking everything in sight (mostly my shins) is not acting out but an attempt to express himself physically, then maybe we look into karate classes and he channels his energy into a real skill. (Note to self: look into karate classes. If he’s going to kick me all the time, he should do it properly.)

One of our observations is that Sam is bored of his toys. There are too many and they are all out. We would love to rotate so that only a few are accessible at a time, but where on earth would we put the toys on hiatus? Living in two and a half rooms is challenging enough. We’re going to try, but we think it’s equally important to not bring anything new into the mix. Let him explore what he has and really enjoy it, rather than become further overwhelmed by the choices. So we’re putting a moratorium on toys and focusing on — you guessed it — Sam’s interests. (There’s a few small exceptions, things I am planning to make that I’m really excited about. I unearthed my desk the other day, so maybe I will have something to show soon.)

Right now it seems that what Sam would like to do most in the world is be outdoors, preferably somewhere that he can run and climb and scramble. Playgrounds are OK, but National Forests are better. He’s had the time of his life in Joshua Tree and at Vasquez Rocks. At the latter he’s tried to climb upwards of 25 feet (Will didn’t let him go all the way up) and so we’re thinking about some climbing gear. There was a moment when it was time to climb down and Will had to trust Sam to stand still while he moved down — and if Sam had not listened to him, they might both have fallen. Sam listened. I stood below thinking about a nice chest harness that could attach Sam to his Dad. Will was thinking about helmets. I definitely do not want to go overboard — I hate the focus on safety that is prevalent in parenting these days and think it is more harmful than good. More than the safety gear I want him to have an extra pair of good shoes, a windbreaker, maybe some gloves if he will wear them. I want Will to get a new pair of sneakers. I would like a good fleece jacket for myself. But I want that harness too.

What else will Sam show interest in? What else will we find ourselves trying? I don’t know! We’re figuring it out as we go. I have to say, I am excited about moving toward a more outdoorsy life. But it’s a big change. (Will wants to try camping next. Yikes!)

Thank goodness his second-greatest interest is Star Wars. Much more my current speed.

People often ask me what form our home/unschooling takes, or if we’re doing a preschool curriculum (those people don’t know us, obviously), or some other variation on our education plans for Sam. And you know, telling them we believe in child-led learning doesn’t seem to answer the questions. Because that’s just not a concept most people get. It’s too far removed from normal, and too vague, and it implies that we take a totally passive role. But really, I think the terms homeschool and unschool are at least as awful and vague and I need a new word. Homeschooling is no good because we don’t do school at home, and unschooling is no good because we’re not undoing anything. I like life learning but again with the vague, plus it makes us sound like a bunch of long-haired hippies. (Oh, wait. I have the shortest hair in the family.)

So this is what Sam’s education looks like (you may have already seen these if you clicked through to Flickr on the last post and you’re my Flickr friend):

We went to Joshua Tree, as I mentioned, and Sam ran along paths and between cactuses like a little wild man. Occasionally he stopped and looked at something. He is full of curiosity, but also very matter-of-fact in that he just accepts his surroundings without needing much explanation or elaboration. But when his dad knelt down and looked at the sand in a dry creek bed, Sam immediately followed suit, experimenting with the way it felt in his hands and the way it sparkles and shines with bits of mica and quartz.

And then he ran off into the sun again.