My son Woody turned six in November of 2011. That would have been the kindergarten year for most kids, 180 days that mark the beginning of the school career. But Woody did his learning in the big, wide, beautiful world, without school being a part of it.

I'm Teresa Honey, and I kept this blog to document this time in my son's life, to share pictures and stories with far-away friends and relatives, and to add ours to the many stories of families living rich, engaging, loving lives with learning happening all the time and in many forms, totally inseparable from every other part of being human.

Here you'll find 180 or so learning moments recorded from August, 2011 to April, 2012 in the life of a 5-turned-6-year-old radically unschooled kid.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

59

Thanksgiving!

We did a little Thanksgiving lunch with just our family, roasting a stuffed bird and eating it along with some steamed broccoli. Then we headed up to the Unitarian church to eat a meal of many-dished splendor along with 30 or so fellow congregants and friends. This was a Good Idea. We fixed enough to have it smell like Thanksgiving at our house, but we didn't spend a fortune and we didn't have to cook 10 different things for four people who would only be hungry enough for a couple of bites of each anyway.



Woody got his feelings hurt, briefly, when a little girl scolded him for kicking her during a game of catch-the-robber. I wasn't watching when it happened, but by Woody's reaction it seemed as if it wasn't intended to hurt her. He was surprised by her anger, and tried to explain to her the kick's purpose. (He's an explainer, this kid.) She stalked off, mad, and he looked up at me (I had by then moved closer to be on hand to offer assistance) and I thought at first he might cry. But he didn't. He had an internal moment, then he kind of quietly skirted the ongoing game, joining in a bit later when the dust had settled in his mind.



On the way home, we stopped in the square to look at the lights and...




the camels! This is a very devout part of the world, and I guess camels say Christmas better than horses do. Woody thought their squishy feet were pretty cool. All the better to carry the Wise Men across the desert to the Baby, I said. (No, I didn't say that. But I did tell about the wide dispersing of the camel's weight across the sand so they didn't sink in with every step.)