It began last summer, the itch.
I’m no stranger to the itch, have had many in a lifetime. Every creative project I’ve ever endeavored to explore has been a direct result of a prickle’s first beginning. The early notion, the quieting of all else. Once the itch turns feverish, begins to keep me awake at night, starts to spot my vision with wonder, ushers in breathtaking dreams? I know it’s worth listening to.
The dream? Other Goose.
I will pause here to say this:
I hear often that motherhood and work are continually at odds, and to some degree, it is true. A 3-month project might take a year to complete when peppered into a day of diapers, banana pancakes, Chicka Chicka Boom Boom. (This one certainly did.) But I also know this: children, if we’re willing, will inspire many an evolution in ourselves. And if given the chance between more time and more growth, I’ll take the latter as often as I can.
So no, I didn’t set out to start another project, certainly not a homeschooling co-op. (For that matter, I didn’t set out to homeschool.) But one of the lovely things about nurturing anything – children, projects, your backyard tomato plant – is that you are forever tethered to a surprise ending.
Mine is this. Putting drafts of a second book on hold to usher myself and my kids into the land of caterpillars and chaos, of valleys and vines.
Of inviting you to come along.
If you’re curious about homeschooling, come take a look.
There are new age-specific lessons each week, written and developed from year-long curriculum I’ve written and used in my own home (spoken like a true daughter-of-two-public-school-teachers). There are progress reports for accountability, notebooks for planning, dreaming, doing. There are forums for every parenting question/doubt/triumph imaginable. There’s a marketplace for resources, an interest log to track every child’s individual, unique set of challenges and passions.
It is everything I ever wanted in a homeschooling experience.
Other Goose was born, quite simply, out of my own need, but I have an inkling it was born out of yours, too. You, the mother-of-littles questioning how to parent with more intention and less stress. You, the one tucking in your toddler and wondering what it was you even accomplished today (and where the heck that other sock is). You, the homeschooling teacher seeking fresh, daily ideas and lessons to introduce to your small children. You, the grandparent craving connection with your kids’ younger kids.
You, the one who no longer wants to go at it – all of it, any of it – alone.
Your village awaits.
I can’t wait to see you there.