To be honest, I thought this blog was dead.  I migrated to Twitter some months back and became like a tiny plankton sucked in by a huge whale--no easy way out of the steady stream of dialogue, links, and daily chit-chat.

Now, as I look back, I see that I had a lot to learn: about blogging, about social media, about just about everything related to Web 2.0.  Twitter taught me more than I ever imagined and continues to be my source for community and learning throughout the day.

I look forward to renewing our conversations about the challenges and joys of helping our kids learn to love learning.

Cheers!

Me: "Hey! Let's (fill-in-the-blank) today."

Boy 2.0: "No. I don't want to."

Thus starts another homeschool day. Or, at least it used to. Lately, I've adopted the strategy of "stealth" homeschooling.

Boy 2.0--like his father--is a night owl. He falls asleep each night listening to a book on CD. His mornings are spent in bed, waking slowly while he fiddles away on his iPod.

To combat homeschool lethargy, I've been starting homeschool without him. Every morning at 10AM, I set up the computer in the dining room and start playing CDs, DVDs, whatever is on the day's agenda. I turn the volume up so that he can hear it in his bedroom.

The result? He's drawn into school each morning, gently and on his own terms. He lays in bed, listens, and then comes out to watch what's on the screen. After he emerges, I move on to reading to him from books or engaging him in conversation about what we've been listening to.

We've covered a heck of a lot of learning this way. And, we're all the happier for it.

I'd call that a homeschooling success!

Well, where the heck you been? (You're most likely asking me this question.)

The past few months, homeschooling kinda slid under the table. Boy 2.0 (as I've come to call him) doesn't respond well to dark, cold days. Instead of fighting a losing battle, I put him on autopilot and went off on a sidetrip of my own to the land of Twitter.

Twitter.com is a world where folks come together online to share thoughts, weblinks, happenings, pictures, news flashes, jokes, music, and (unfortunately) sales pitches. All of this in 140 characters or less. The action is fast, addictive, and much needed for a Mom like me who can't talk much with other adults during the day. A few of the folks I've met I consider friends--we provide each other with support, advice, and the occasional laugh to help the day go along.

The connections can lead to opportunity as well. I recently landed a guest post for the National Wildlife Federation's Green Hour, an online resource for parents who want to put more "green" in their kids' daily lives. (My blog is scheduled for March 4, if you're interested.)

Curious? Check out Twitter.com. I'm @edisonsmother and @worldismygarden.  Look forward to seeing you there!

My nine-year old cannot tie his own shoes. And I just discovered that he is not alone.

During a conversation last night with the parents of another special needs homeschooler, the topic came up about what we do and don't worry about teaching our kids. Shoe tying was not a high priority for either of us, given the struggles our kids have with concentration, focus, motor skills and the like.  Neither are we rushing out to make sure our kids can write cursive now that they've mastered printing.

On the other hand, we've shared a commitment to making sure our kids learn to read, write (in the sense of creating text), and understand math operations so that they can develop the basic skills that make all learning come alive and grow.

The common theme underlying our decisions regarding what does or doesn't need to be learned? Our use of adaptive technology.

Adaptive technology doesn't have to mean anything complicated or expensive. Want to put produce text? Try keyboarding. Want to perform math operations quickly and correctly? Try a calculator.

Want to fasten your shoes? Try velcro.

The key has been to think strategically about what our learners need to accomplish and find the tools that will allow it to happen. This is no different than the use of adaptive supports for workers in the workplace. It levels the playing field so that what is inside of these kids can find expression.

Parents of special needs kids often struggle with how to unleash their children's gifts so that the world can benefit. For the parents I spoke with last night, it is a question of how to share their child's gift for crafting stories. For my child, it is how to share his talent for using technology.

Think of Anne Sullivan's work with Helen Keller. How much do we lose when we focus on what cannot be done as opposed to what can be accomplished with a little help from the outside?

Technology helps all of us reach beyond our limitations. Our challenge is to find ways to use it creatively in reaching our goals.

Somewhere during the past few weeks our unschooling experiment began to unravel. Sure, we've done our share of projects and field trips outside while the weather is still nice. My son even built an entire city out of Legos, complete with skyways and tunnels.  But what I noticed after a while was that he started spending more and more time with his YouTube videos during school time.  And then--the nightmare of all homeschool parents everywhere--he began daily marathons of Super Monkey Ball!

(Super Monkey Ball, by the way, is a fun little game for the iPod. It just isn't "school.")

I didn't intervene right away. I'd promised to watch how he learns, right? After about a week of listening to him grunt, groan, and scream in frustration (the little monkey ball is really hard to keep on the track without falling off), I decided that enough was enough. I was going to put an end to the games and get back to work.

That's when he came running up to me, all excited, and announced that he'd managed to finish all of the levels. What he said next was absolutely unexpected and completely priceless:  "Gee, Mom. It's amazing how you can get better at something if you just keep working at it a little at a time."

Not such a bad lesson after all.

Just a quick note to say we've been trying out a new "twitter-like" online program called "Edmodo" (edmodo.com) in our homeschool. It allows teachers and students to send short messages back and forth within a self-contained universe. Teachers set up a free account and students can access it via passcode. It allows for events and assignments to be posted as well.

My son loves it. Not exactly sure why since we've been using it more like a private email system. We're able to attach our pictures to our accounts, which makes it more fun than traditional email. We'll keep experimenting because it just has that feel of "potential."

My plan is to try developing a short lesson that teaches writing skills using Edmodo.  Not sure just what that will entail but thought it would make a great project for a class I'm taking right now in instructional design. As always, will keep you posted.

I'm not sure what my family is going to do now that the Summer Olympics have ended.

It feels as if there's a bit of a hole in our lives now, one that I didn't realize was there before we turned on the TV set one evening and watched in amazement as Michael Phelps swam his way to yet another gold medal. (Did you catch the race where he won in what appeared to be the space of a fingernail? Absolutely riveting.)

We're going to miss the excitement of watching athletes compete who have devoted their lives to becoming the best they can be, to developing the potential within themselves. To be sure, the Olympics are about striving to see who is the "best." But hard work and preparation can only take you so far. 

Just ask the talented swimmer who came in second after Phelps in that fateful race.

There will always be someone stronger, brighter, or more gifted.  There will always be an "off" day. What matters in the end isn't whether we win or lose but whether we've made the most of what we've got--that we've learned how to recognize the opportunities in front of us and put them to good use.  That, to me, is the mark of a champion.

A "gold medal" education for my son will contain the very same elements that drive Olympic athletes--perseverance, high standards, and a love of the game.  It is my belief that a love of the game (in this case, a love of learning) will ultimately drive the other two.  My hope is that by teaching him to see the incredible array of learning opportunities in front of him, he will become a person who focuses on the possibilities, rather than the daunting odds. This is what makes an Olympic athlete great.  And, I believe, this is what will make for an Olympic-style education for my son.

On a whim, I've decided to dabble in "unschooling" for a while to see what would happen. I realized that trying to hold to what most folks consider the proper way to do education has been a huge contributor to the stress in our home, which in turn contributes to my son's anxiety. 

Two days into the experiment and I'm beginning to wonder what planet I'm on.  I have a kid who actually complains because there isn't enough time to learn everything he wants to learn, is pleasant to be around (for us, this is a major deal), and jumps right into his work without any outside prompts. My own stress level has plummeted.

Not sure if I'm dreaming or if this is for real. School usually means a lot of hassle and trying to find new ways to get lessons across. Granted, we're in the very early stages but I'll take what I can get, when I can get it.

Keep your fingers crossed. I'll report more as we go along.

My son went to a family party last weekend. One of the kids walked up to him and asked if he wanted to play football. My son looked at the kid and said, "What's that?"

Yes, we 're a little illiterate in my family when it comes to team sports--at least my son is anyway. My husband and I used to play baseball, football, basketball, and the like when we were kids and we still maintain fitness routines. But, we're not the kind of family to take in a ballgame on the weekend. The result? Our son is totally clueless when it comes to this segment of society.

My son is not a couch potato--he enjoys swimming and biking and the kid can absolutely wear me out on a hike through the woods. But when it comes to team sports, he gets completely overwhelmed by the social demands. Still, we'd like him to have at least an intellectual understanding of what all the fuss is about.

So, long story short, I bought a Wii system yesterday--my sister-in-law insists I got a good deal--and we're going to try this out.  If you're not familiar with the Wii, it's Nintendo's latest gaming technology--amazingly interactive and designed to allow players to participate in popular team sports such as tennis, golf, baseball, and bowling.

My goal is to integrate it into our homeschool phy ed program this school year.  My 12-year old nephew and his buddy gave me a crash course in how to use it (I decided to go to the experts to get help figuring this thing out.) Now, I just have to find a way to introduce it to my son so that it piques his interest. 

Now, I wonder if Guitar Hero would meet the requirements for his music curriculum...

I spent the better part of yesterday smearing joint compound all over the walls in my family room--sort of giving it a "plastered" look, if you know what I mean.  I'd been struggling to find a way to get rid of peeling wallpaper that had been directly applied to the drywall by the past owners of our townhouse. This seemed a more convenient alternative to ripping out the sheet rock and starting over. But, I digress.

Not being one to let an opportunity to multi-task slip by, I decided to listen to some podcasts while I worked. To my delight, I came across an entire category related to educational technology on iTunes. Interestingly, several were from folks in Canada--Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Ontario specifically.

In among these, I stumbled across a fellow by the name of Rodd Lucier who podcasts and blogs out of Komoka, Ontario, under the moniker "The Clever Sheep." An experienced educator, Rodd shares thoughts and tips for integrating technology in education.  I sampled quite a few of his podcasts--each is relatively brief, perhaps five minutes or so--and found myself feeling as if I were talking with a friend. Rodd has an engaging style and his expertise in both education and technology is a real goldmine.

But, hey! Why don't you listen for yourself?  You can access "Teacher 2.0" at thecleversheep.blogspot.com.