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Lessons From My Grandchildren

I promised myself long ago that if I were ever lucky enough to have grandchildren, I would be the best grandmother! I would read to them, sing to them, take them to wonderful places, and teach them all about life. Little did I know that they would be the ones teaching me.

Mia and Tyler marvel at the world around them, whether it’s a seagull flying high above the beach, or a deer or fox at the forest feeder, gobbling up tasty leftovers. They take great delight in watching these beautiful creatures. When the first snowflakes fell, little Tyler ventured outside and glanced skyward. A look of astonishment crossed his face, but before long he was twirling in circles and squealing with delight. The first time Mia experienced rain, she was mesmerized. Her little fingers reached out and seemed to caress the raindrops, her little nose pressed tightly against the cool damp windowpane. Neither child minds the rain, and actually looks forward to a storm because, as Mia says, “I know there might be a rainbow!”
(Revel in nature’s beauty, and even when it’s familiar, never take it for granted.)

Mia and the sea turtle. (Courtesy of Karen Brazas)

The children like trees and rocks and even pretty weeds. They’re never in too much of a hurry to “stop and smell the roses.” A tiny blossom, a little feather, a shell on the beach, or even a “perfect stick” is special. On our walks, they take delight in a passing dog, a stray cat, or a garden lizard. Tyler is ever on the lookout for fire engines, police cars, and passing trains.
When these two aren’t looking around, they’re looking up … at beautiful fluffy clouds, debating which animal they look like.
(Look around. Take the time to appreciate everything in your world.)

(Courtesy of Karen Brazas)

My little ones study people and gravitate toward those who are nice and friendly. They aren’t afraid to make new friends, and while playing in a park, Mia will go up to a random child and ask, “Do you want to be my friend today?” From his balcony or bedroom window, Tyler calls out to greet passers-by whether he knows them or not. And if either one is rebuffed, they aren’t bothered. They simply engage with someone else.
(Never take yourself too seriously. Sometimes you just have to move on.)

Mia’s first rainfall. (Courtesy of Karen Brazas)

Before they could even walk, they couldn’t wait to venture out into the pounding surf, crawling like baby turtles, straight to the sea. And now they both charge full speed ahead to meet the waves, unaware of what they might be getting themselves into. As toddlers, they were afraid to cross over the three-inch gap leading into our home elevator and would wait for me to lift them across. I remember the day Mia studied that gap and then scurried over it! Once inside, she turned to me with the biggest grin, cheered herself with a big “yay,” and gave herself a hearty round of applause. These days after building up their courage at the park, they aren’t afraid to take chances. They’d climb the highest monkey bars or ride the zip line, their fear dissipating after the first try.
(“Sometimes the only method of transportation is a leap of faith.”)

(Courtesy of Karen Brazas)

These two are ever eager to try new tasks. Never mind the results. Mia insists on pulling weeds, deadheading flowers, or watering pots in my garden. Both she and her cousin love helping in the kitchen, stirring, baking, or dipping strawberries into creamy chocolate. They want to learn how things are done and “Please! Let me try!” is their mantra. Both have mastered bicycle riding, without training wheels. Tumble after tumble, scraped knees and all, nothing diminished their enthusiasm. Now they’re learning to swim, jumping headlong into their daddies’ arms and then attempting to reach the pool’s edge on their own. I can’t remember a time when either one has said, “I don’t think I can do that.”
(Never quit. Never stop learning. Have faith in yourself.)

(Courtesy of Karen Brazas)

If the children try new food and dislike it, they let me know. They feel free (very free!) to tell me where they want to go … the park, the beach, McDonald’s … and what they want to do (which rarely involves school work!)
Even if they don’t know all the words to a song, they sing out loud no matter who is listening. They dance like everyone is watching. If they’re sad, they tell me, ask for a hug, and then reach for a favorite toy or blanket for comfort.
(Say no to things you don’t want, and do what makes your heart happy.)

(Courtesy of Karen Brazas)

Mia and Tyler have learned to be very flexible. Their activities, meals, and bedtimes often depend on their parents’ busy schedules. Some days, they are popped in and out of car seats and shopping carts several times a day. When they travel, a change in routine, unfamiliar surroundings, and sleeping in a different bed doesn’t bother them. They’re aware that tomorrow might be completely different from today. No matter.
(Get some sleep. Tomorrow will take care of itself.)

Tyler seeing snow. (Courtesy of Karen Brazas)

My grandchildren are only 5 and 6 years old. Unlike mine, their skin is tight and smooth. Their hair is silky and shiny. They have energy to burn while my flame often smolders. But none of this makes any difference to them. They sense the gentleness in my heart and see the love in my eyes. They look past the wrinkles and the gray and love me just the way I am. I know, because they tell me so many times a day. They are the essence of unconditional love.
(Tell your loved ones you love them every chance you get … and love them with everything you have.)

I have much to learn.

Karen Brazas is a retired high school English teacher and creative writing instructor who taught in California, China, and Lithuania. She worked and studied in 35 countries with the Semester at Sea program. Karen is a wife, mother, and grandmother, and now lives in Nevada City, California, and Channel Islands, California.

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A Love of Learning Homeschooling

Homeschooling, a Generation Later

Upon writing this, I’m watching my 6-year-old granddaughter tranquilly learn to needlepoint a bookmark. It’s her Mumsee and Pops’s day of play and learning. She’s backlit by the sun, wearing lavender overalls with her long wavy gold hair in a ponytail. This lovely picture brings me back to one of my favorite memories: watching my own homeschooled kindergartener daughter, dressed in overalls and wavy brunette ponytail, encased in a soft sunbeam while she peacefully played with blocks on the playroom floor. That simple scene had taken my breath away; I knew I’d remember it forever. I didn’t know that I’d one day get to relive the delight of that moment with her daughter, my home-educated granddaughter. Out of necessity, I homeschooled my two children before anyone—including me—knew much about homeschooling, aside from seeing it as a distant, strange concept. We moved often, and I decided I wouldn’t subject my children to a constant change of schools.

I remember trying to explain our education plan to my mother. I expected her to disapprove. After all, she had raised me on the mantra “Education. Education. Education.” She herself was a pulmonologist and had proudly graduated first in her medical school class. School was such a big deal in my family that I was nervous to tell her. But I had underestimated her. When she saw our situation for what it was, she said something I didn’t expect. She said, “Well, that’s how royalty is raised.” Her supportive approval bolstered me in my resolve.

In the spirit of doing unto others, I purposed to be supportive of my daughter and her husband’s choices one day. After all, educating a child isn’t an easy thing. The biggest problem was my having no idea how to approach homeschooling. Teaching children is truly an art, as displayed by Maria teaching the Von Trapp children to sing in “The Sound of Music.” That scene epitomized my vision of what homeschooling should be. I saw myself as a kind of singing, teaching Maria Von Trapp and my children as play-clothes clad, eager pupils frolicking the countryside with me. That illusion lasted exactly one day before it burst, thanks to a reality check.

I wasn’t as patient, kind, melodious, and natural as Julie Andrews was, and my children weren’t at all hanging on my every word. It was that day that I got a sobering look at my mission. Besides not knowing exactly where to start, nor the scope or sequence of homeschooling, I realized I had everything to learn if I was going to teach my children everything. Everything.

Cumbersome, expensive curriculum manuals resembled thick phone books and didn’t necessarily guide untrained home teachers on the path of imparting knowledge. I often felt lost. Eventually, understanding that it was a matter of survival, I pitched the expensive books I had ordered into the trash and created a plan much more suited to our time and abilities.

My daughter is now homeschooling her own daughters in what is, thankfully, a vastly improved landscape. Resources abound, as do colleagues. Mentors and lessons can be found on the internet. Mom groups are available with scheduled playdates. And curriculum? Curriculum is ever so much more user-friendly.

Mother, father and daughter are painting eggs. Happy family are preparing for Easter. Cute little child girl wearing bunny ears. (Shutterstock)

Homeschool friends are now easier to find in churches, social media groups, and tutorial schools. Thanks to the 2020 COVID-19 lockdowns, tutors and teachers are advertising online and in-person lessons. Even the school districts have conceded that homeschooling can be the right choice, depending on a family’s needs. Curriculum writers have learned to pare down and condense instructions and rewrite lessons to launch a parent right into teaching. The curriculum is so much more appealing to students as well.

Back in the pre-internet day, I was fairly desperate for mentoring and support. I often upbraided myself for not being more resourceful. It was hard to find clubs, doings, activities, or anything for homeschool communities. Fortunately for me back then, a very gifted angel of mercy—a very talented homeschool mom—organized a cooperative tutorial school the year before we moved out of state. Another mom established a roller skating day.

Recently, I asked my daughter what grandparents could do to be more supportive of homeschooling. She said without hesitation that helping pay for lessons ranks high. It’s very appreciated. One model for this kind of help is providing a one-time contribution into a bank account for parents, which they can use to budget throughout the year to subsidize expenses: curriculum, lessons, rentals, and field trips. With some of the financial burden off of their shoulders, the parents are freed to focus on lessons of all sorts.

One arrangement that I would have loved as an early homeschooler is what we have with our daughter now. One day each week—Terrific Tuesdays—the girls spend the day at their paternal grandmother’s house playing, gardening, cooking, and exploring. Sometimes they have slumber parties. Mumsee and Pops’s day is on Thursdays. I teach what my granddaughter named “art craft.” It’s a good name, because she’s being introduced to the fine arts while still doing crafty things like Mod-podging a balloon to make a paper ball. We’ve acted out books, sat at the piano, read aloud, talked, and are currently learning to needlepoint. We’ve baked bread, colored, and painted rocks.

These grandparent days afford my daughter time for rest and planning. She has used them professionally to illustrate two books. What a wonderful thing for her to have time for her own pursuits. On those days, she does a few lessons in the morning, but then has time to use as she needs. Alleviating time stress helps home-educating families function more smoothly.

There was a study that found that grandparents that spend regular time with their grandchildren remained more mentally flexible and generally experienced better health and well-being.

Nobody can accurately describe the blessing of grandchildren. When I first experienced being a grandparent, I knew it was a joy one had to experience to understand. The Bible says that grandchildren are the crown of the aged, and that a good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children. What a joy and a privilege to get to participate in my grandchildren’s development, all while imparting an inheritance. It tires a grandparent out in one way, but serves as a fountain of youth in another.

Chicago-born, Boston University-educated, first-generation American, and freelance writer Evelyn Glover has traveled the world with her college-sweetheart husband of 34 years. They live near their grandchildren in Franklin, Tennessee, where they pursue and teach many varied arts: writing, cooking, painting, needlework, piano, and cello.