“Jeshuron grew fat, and KICKED!”—Xay kicks his foot over his head reciting his favorite Bible verse, Deut. 38.15 a.

Yanni smiles and falls on the floor when she hears this from Deut. 29:23
“The whole land will be a burning waste of salt and sulfur-nothing planted, nothing sprouting, no vegetation growing on it. It will be like the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, Admah and Zeboiim, which the LORD overthrew in fierce anger.”

“Daddy, I’m doing Bible study, too,” Imani announces, sheet of paper in her hand, sitting on the couch as close to Curtis as possible.

“Daddy, my study too,” Joy adds, joining her big sister on the couch.

This is what homeschool looks like around here these days. No longer do the big kids sit waiting to copy mommy’s notes from the whiteboard while the little children run around screaming because they can’t use the dry-erase markers, too. No more fighting over the same coloring page from the Famous People of the Bible coloring book that we’d used for Bible study during the first year.

Curtis will grab Yanni by the hand and yank her off the couch. “That’s inertia,” he tells her. Then he’ll push her, giggling, back to her seat, to drive the point home. As he turns to move, he bumps into Xay. “Daddy, you can inertia me, too!” he laughs.

“Inert me too, Daddy!”
“Iner my Daddy!”
Mani and Joy chime in.

In homeschool circles, there is much talk about the father’s role in the education of the children. He is to be the head of the school, just as he is head of the home. But, what does that mean? Is he the Principal, who reigns on high and comes down for discipline issues, or to check the effectiveness of the mother/teacher? Or is he the head teacher? Or does he make (or buy) the curriculum and see that it is being followed?

In our home, as in many homeschool families, the husband is the sole bread-winner. What with Curtis launching a business, that doesn’t leave much time for him to be head teacher at homeschool. He may take more of a traditional Principal’s role, but none of our roles are so rigidly defined in homeschool. I quit that teacher thing a few years ago, when I abandoned curriculum. Now I concentrate more on being a mother, managing the household, and doing spiritual and academic activities with the children. Curtis is the head of the whole household, and he is specially anointed to teach the children.

Curtis tells Yanni to make pancakes one Sunday morning. When he goes back to check on her, she is writing math problems. “I have to write down all the doubled ingredients every time,” she informs him. Yanni hates math, but will do it to cook something. Passionate about cooking, her favorite internet site is baking911.com

After Praise and Worship one morning, Curtis tells the children to assemble the new carpet cleaner—and to read the manual so they would know how it works. After they ask me a question, I jump in, almost taking over the whole project. Then I look over and see Yanni cuddling the fussy baby, and not paying attention to the project at all. I take the baby and leave the room, assuring them that they could do it by themselves. They call me a few minutes later, finished with the assembly, and each child tells me a different feature of the machine.

Mani and Joy come into my office covered with a large comforter. “Daddy, I’m a PRAYING Mintus,” Mani informs us. “No, Me a Pray Mintus,” Joy says. They adjust the cover over their heads and walk back down the hall together.

I don’t remember trying to teach Joy to talk. Left alone, she just started talking. Here’s a typical exchange:

“What’s your name?”
“Joy-Joy.”
“How old are you?”
“2”
“What’s your sister’s name?”
“4.”

Xay follows the release dates of his favorite computer games. He wants One Must Fall, and we go to buy it at the store. It is no longer available in town, so he finds it online. He has $40 to spend, and finds it for $8 on Amazon. He decides to pay $5 extra shipping to get it sooner. Then, while waiting for it, he prints out information about how to play the game and studies it carefully. When the game arrives a week after he orders it, he’s ready to beat the game.

I often hear things like, “Mommy, this is what a Morrel mushroom looks like!”
0r, “Mommy, did you know that airplanes go up and down with elevators?”

Candace emails that she’s getting married in Hawaii; the whole family is invited. We pull out the globe to find it—it’s not in the right place on our big, flat U. S. map. This sets off a chain events of map exploration.

I show Xay where the Grand Canyon is on our big, flat map of the U.S. Days later, I go to the Doctor with the baby. I come back, and Yanni has pulled out the big water heater box from the basement. They’ve put a large empty cable spool inside the box for a stool. Colanders are on the floor—discarded helmets, not doubt. Yani tells Xay where to get pipe cleaners for the antenna while she copies the globe for a map. Mani is furiously making maps too, as is Joy. Xay finds the Grand Canyon again so he can plot a course for the rocket ship. . .

A few days later, Mani and Joy hop in the rocket ship and go to Syria, “which is like Cereal, mommy,” Mani informs me. Syria is an outside planet (in Canada), she tells me, so they join me outside and help me plant flowers in the front yard.

I remember grocery shopping in 2000. Yani would be begging for things every few steps. Xay, who had experience shopping with me alone, while Yani was in school, had quit the asking for stuff all the time. He would look for the best price on items, and would pretty much stay focused on the task at hand. Imani, a baby, wanted to be held and nursed as we went through the store. Here’s what happened the other day at the store:

I go to the garden center, and tell the children to start buying what’s on the list. I find them looking for groceries in alphabetical order, more than halfway through the list. Yani’s pushing the cart and holding the baby. Xay’s checking things off the list in my pocket PC. . . and Esteban wants to be nursed.

Some things never change.