Today was the last day of our friends staying with us. Woody had a mini-meltdown with his dad in the evening, triggered by the big disappointment of realizing that there would be no more opportunities for a long while to have Woody-Nathan-Daddy Honey wrestling matches on the bed. Daddy Honey could relate. He said at eight he once punched a hole in his grandmother's wall when his dad told him that his cousin couldn't spend the night.
The stakes are high when you don't get to see somebody but once in a while.
We tried to go to Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art again. Again, it was horrific. One guard reamed us out for a full two minutes, pulling made-up offenses from her pocket of homeless anger. Rebecca. The letter of complaint is in the works.
But, Nathan lost not only his first tooth but also his second tooth while we were there. We made tooth fairy pillows when we got back home.
Fat sandwiches for lunch and an afternoon at the Confederate Cemetery smoothed things out some.
Sunset on Mount Sequoya helped, too.
Still, tomorrow's going to be tough. I can feel it.
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.