Just a small sample, in demonstration of what it's like to live with a fiery creative passionate unschooled nearly-nine year old...
- Used the drop spindle some more, and made some gorgeous art yarn to play with.
- Brought me drinks of water without asking.
- Baked a cake all by herself because she wanted cake.
- Pretended to be a Viking for long periods, carding wool, baking bread, making detailed costumes...
- Said "I hate you" at least twice a day, every day.
- Made delicious soup for tea, from her own recipe.
- Voluntarily hung up all the coats that had fallen off their pegs in the hall rather than walking on them (as usually happens)!
- Attempted to throw her brand new boots in the bin because she doesn't like them.
- Put on at least three shows.
- Read for so long yesterday afternoon I went to check on her thinking she must have fallen asleep.
- Made huge dens out of furniture and blankets to entertain her little sisters.
- Built many many towers of blocks for Talia to knock over.
- Went shopping with a friend of ours, and came back with gold sparkly high heeled shoes.
- Patiently taught her sisters to play Cluedo even though they kept messing about and losing pieces.
- Stood besides me in the kitchen cracking eggs for me to bake for tea - and told me how much she loves me.
- Borrowed *every single one* of my beautiful art pens, and left them on the floor without lids.
- Gave me her last piece of chocolate.
- Pushed a letter under my bedroom door in the morning to tell me she thinks I'm the best Mumma in the world.
- Painted more of her beautiful and quirky watercolours.
She is such an amazing, dramatic, busy, alive, INFURIATING creature. There have been entire days this week when none of my carefully long-thought-out reasons for unschooling have felt like enough, and I have cried and thought that whatever it is I want for my relationship with this brave wild daughter I am failing at all of it, and fantasised about how easy it would be to enrol her in school.
I am having to keep reminding myself to be gentle on all of us this month. I know they are reacting to my stress, too. Oh, Jenna, I love you so much and I admire your spirit. Remember that I'm not your enemy... and give me back my oil pastels, please?