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| (Winter Wonderland photo by Ryan Myer) |
February 1996 found the inside of our home as blustery as the snowy wind outside.
My 8-year-old daughter's cystic fibrosis had taken a turn for the worse and our time was consumed with administering treatments and medications and hashing out insurance problems on the phone. My 5-year-old responded to the chaos with daily temper tantrums, and my 3-year-old constantly cried and begged to be held. In the midst of this storm I was trying to homeschool.
We can't get behind, I exhorted myself. Our math program called for daily drills, our spelling workbook demanded a page a day, our terrific science curriculum required frequent nature walks with detailed journal entries and research, the planaria we were raising had to have their water changed daily, and our engaging history unit studies were full of elaborate projects. We had to keep learning, keep doing. Not only because it was good and right, but because we lived in Pennsylvania.
