hat morning I knew without a doubt that I was the worst mom in the world. I did something I never thought I was capable of doing. The day I did that awful, horrible deed, I had six children, eight and under, including twin toddlers I was trying unsuccessfully to potty train. I was also expecting my seventh child. Officially homeschooling two young girls seemed easy when compared to teaching and training four toddlers. Clearly, I was outnumbered by these little munchkins. Order dramatically decreases the more tots you have.

Besides trying to potty train my twins, I was also working on naptime for the twosome. Having seven young kids in one house meant these two busy jibber-jabberers had to share a room. And I desperately needed them to stay put in their beds for just an hour or two each day, which would give me a little time to work with my two school-age girls without constant interruptions and distractions.

While most toddlers across America were taking naps, my supercharged twins’ energy could have lit every bulb in the house if only we could have harnessed it. Since they clearly weren’t going to sleep, I hoped Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet, too, as I affectionately called my larger and smaller twins, would at least stay in their bunny ballerina toddler beds and play quietly with their terrycloth babies. These itty bitty dolls, which I had embroidered with each of their names, were constantly with my girls wherever they went, much like a security blanket.

ne of my favorite holiday carols goes a little something like this: “Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light.” Yet this is easier said than done. Around my house, there are often kids grumbling over who got the more significant piece of pumpkin pie around the Thanksgiving table. Either that or making a list, checking it twice, and then adding to it daily.

Then, when you add unrealistic expectations to the mix, parents get in on the grumbling too. I’ve grumbled when the cookie decorating yields more sprinkles and frosting on the floor than on the cookies. I’ve complained about kids stealing my clear wrapping tape or about buying a stack of Christmas cards, only to have them still sitting on my desk on December 24.

A few years ago, I knew things had to change. Our large family—which at the time included me, my husband John, my ninety-year-old grandmother who lives with us, and eight of our kids still at home—decided to go a year without grumbling. Okay, John and I decided it was a good idea, and we encouraged our kids to work with us to change our attitudes, change our hearts, and turn grumbling into gratitude.

So years ago, we decided we were done. We talked about the atmosphere we wanted to create in our home at Christmas, then we paused and started hitting the delete button. My husband and I decided our decorations would reflect our faith and family, and so we paired them down to those things that helped us to do that—just enough for one room we hoped would feel warm and cozy and welcoming for the holiday season.

onfession time. I admit it. I am that homeschool mom. In seven years of homeschooling, we have tried a total of five different core curricula. We have experimented with four different approaches to math. I have a library of resource books on my shelf that “look so good!” and “would be so much fun!” But there they sit, dousing me with a cold bucket of failure every time I walk past them. I am sure they are so good, but, this busy mama of four never really had time to try them out past the first lesson or two. So now, instead of shopping the used curriculum sales, there I sit at my selling table, trying to pass curriculum off to the next naive and insecure homeschool mama pushing the stroller and wrangling a preschooler or two and maybe passing back a few of my wasted dollars in the meantime.

About a year and a half ago, I began to ask myself, “Why?” Why can’t I seem to find the curriculum “niche” that I fit into? Why am I consistently frustrated and frazzled with how our homeschool is going? Why are we lacking peace and joy in our home when I know this is what we are called to as a family? Why do my kids keep putting up with me when I teeter-totter between the sweet sit-on-the-couch-and-read-with-you-and-isn’t-learning-fun mommy to the beastly, bug-eyed, don’t-you-dare-get-out-of-your-seat-again-until-you-finish-your-entire-mathbook-and-you’re-not-eating-til-it’s-done-monster mom? This is when the Lord impressed clearly into my heart these words:

Stop Playing Twister!

Spin the wheel. Right foot, left foot, right hand, or left hand. Blue, green, red, or yellow.

Whatever the wheel says, you have to do it. That’s the game of Twister.

But in order to do what the wheel says, you have to bend and reach, stretch and twist. Eventually everyone falls except for one… the kid with the most flexibility or balance or who just happened to not have to twist as much as the others. There’s only one winner, though—unless of course, they all fall in a big heap.

Sometimes when we teach our kids it becomes a game of Twister. We think, “But we have to follow the rules!” Whether it’s the curriculum telling us what to do, the state standards, the experts, a friend, a family member, or even our own expectations.

old weather is here, and the time is ripe for some indoor science. This season is a great one for baking experiments that the whole family can enjoy. Bread, yeast and kids always bring out fun as well as plenty of fascination. Don’t be surprised to hear comments along the lines of “You mean that yeast creates gas, too?”

The science of yeast has astounded kids for generations, and now is the time to show them how it works in bread, along with a bit of baking and tasting, of course. Ask your children a few questions to find out what they already know:

What can they tell you about bread? What are their favorite kinds of bread? What makes some kinds of bread light and fluffy?

ur family once went to Ecuador to spend time with loved ones. One of the things that stood out to me the most was how every meal was a small ritual of love and culture. Breakfast went beyond the simple cereal and milk, and instead included a sit down option of several juices, eggs, cheese, bologna, breads, and coffee. Lunch was no different, serving a delicious and creamy vegetable soup and a main course. Dinner was equally filling with a large serving of rice, lentils, and a fried or grilled piece of steak or chicken.

This incredible experience helped me realize the potential mealtime has for us as homeschooling families. We have the opportunity to create rituals of love and culture for our children, as well as giving them the chance to experience the cultures of people around the world through food.

Although the meals were quite satisfying, what was more filling were the emotional portions of sharing and talking while we ate. There was no rush. Whenever we were done, we were done. In between every morsel of food was the story of the day and every serving included a new ingredient to bring each member together.

Just about every motivational speaker, conference leader and back woods preacher has used the illustration about football coach and legend Vince Lombardi to make a point about going back to the basics.

Standing before his team at the first practice of the season, he held a football as he began his opening pep talk. The veteran coach held the football high and said, “Gentlemen, this is a football.”

Since then the story has been told and retold in all kinds of venues…and maybe for the first time is about to be applied to homeschooling.

My suspicion is that Coach Lombardi knew that sometimes even the best player forgets what really matters and what it’s all about. I know homeschooling moms do. You can’t blame them, really. There’s so much expert advice being tossed about. This expert says this, that blogger says that, this Facebook page says yet another thing.