Gonzo Homeschool Post

After a recent conversation with his neighborhood friends, R told me, "Mom you need to know this. A is for axalent, B is for bad, D is for determination, and I don't remember what F is."

That got me thinking. We're in our third year of homeschooling, and I think I know what F stands for.

Faux Latin

Latin is the basis of many languages, including fake ones. If, early on, you point out to your children all the Latin elements of English, and tell them that most things in nature have Latin scientific names, they'll become little smart alecks who spout Latin ad nauseum.

When I refer to fake languages, I'm not talking about pig Latin. I'm talking about gibberish that sounds Latin because the vowels and consonants are arranged in a certain way. For example, the other day J rushed into the house with an insect, and wanted to know what it was called. Without looking up from is book, R said, "It's anthinus dinornimus."

Don't look it up. There is no such word.

Frame Questions Carefully

R, who is doing third grade, is completing a workbook about American Indians. After an essay on smoke signals and sign language, the study section included this question: How would we visit someone fifty miles away without using wheels? My son's answer? "Helicopter, Skype, walk."

Flatulence

If you teach boys, flatulence will be a predominant part of your life. If they can't manage to produce methane loudly enough to interrupt school activities, they'll find a way to talk about it.

Last week R finished reading Charlotte's Web to his brother. They settled onto the sofa to read the last chapter.

R: "Chapter twenty-two. A Warm Wind."
J: "A Warm Wind?"
R: "A WARM WIND!"
R and J: "HA HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HOOOOOOHAHAHAHHHAAAA!"

Fractured Literature

Yesterday, we read the poem Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night, by Dylan Thomas. This poem is a villanelle - a nineteen-line poem with a very careful arrangement of rhyme and repetition. Villanelle is supposed to be difficult to write, and some say Thomas' poem is one of the finest examples.

Thomas wrote Do Not Go Gentle about his father's impending death. It is sad, loving, powerful, beautiful. The boys and I discussed all this.

Eight hours later, we were all in bed. The boys weren't settling in well; instead they were giggling and cracking jokes between their bunk beds. As I lay there, trying to relax and sleep because tomorrow I have to teach them more stuff they can't live without, I overheard them amending lines from the sad, loving, powerful poem:

"Do not go gentle into that good burp!"

"Rage, rage against the dying of the refrigerator!"