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.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

175

Today is exactly seven days since we played at Joy's house, where the chicken pox were making their appearance, and my boys are drippy and coughing. Maybe colds, maybe allergies, maybe the beginnings of the pox (though no marks yet), but either way we are staying close to home where the soft rags and tissues are plentiful and where everybody pretty much has all the same germs.



I crushed some mint and gently bruised some orange slices to make "vitamin water" for lunchtime.


And because lots of snot, in our house, sometimes means puking (as the snot makes its way down the throat to the stomach), I cleaned the toilets extra good. Because really, nothing can make puking worse than it already is like puking into a slimy, stinky toilet while staring at tiny hairs. (This would never be your toilet, I'm sure, and I'm not exactly admitting that it is often mine. I'm just saying.) Whenever the squirt bottle comes out, Fox is the man of the hour, so he helped get things disinfected and sparkly.



A cool poster advertising a series of modern apocalyptic movies at the university yesterday caught our attention, and one of the movies was WALL*E. It was one of our favorites when Woody was around Fox's age. I rooted around and found this book this morning, one of those Scholastic "Early Reader" books, and Woody was excited to try reading it by himself out loud to me and Fox. He asked for help on maybe five words.



And in the same place that I'd stashed the WALL*E book, I had put the 29 Magic Treehouse books that our 9-year-old friend Peter had given us when he cleaned out his room with his mom. Woody was ecstatic! We read the first one, Dinosaurs before Dark, and will read the second one tonight. This strikes me as very good timing, here on the edge of a household sickness, to be excited about a particular series of books of which we have more than two dozen.