Another great date

imageimageimageimageWe are growing fond of our new friends who, just like us, have moved from The Netherlands to Belgium to homeschool their kids. It’s for the first time ever that Steven and I don’t feel like we have to explain ourselves or our unconditional respect for our children’s individual choices, the freedom that we raise them in or their giftedness.


Japanese Project

imageSimon has this recurring interest in Japanese, although he is not officially learning it. It began with him learning the whole Katakana alfabet at age 4, all by himself and in just a few days. Ever since then he’s got his relapses. Last Friday he all of a sudden came up with a project to make Japanese number posters. He designed them himself, looking up the “spelling” in both Katakana and Hiragana (it was a lot of work looking for the modified characters).


On having a best friend


Simon’s best friend from Amsterdam came over to visit for two days, the only true friend who loves Simon dearly and whose friendship has already endured the distance and months of being apart. That is a lot when you’re 6 or 7. I watched them play together a lot. Even though Simon doesn’t seem to have developed the same ability to truly miss someone (of this he admits himself), I know this “having a best friend” holds a special place somewhere deep inside him and is important for him in its own way.

Probably the most exciting part of the visit was going to Het Steen, the oldest building in Antwerp, where there was a dark room for experimenting with light.


Math touching programming

During his biweekly math lesson:

Mom, we are converting into binary numbers!


The same night Simon said to me: “Mom, you know how we have once talked about programming lessons?” We did discuss this approximately half a year ago when we started considering homeschooling seriously and back then Simon told me he really wanted to have private math lessons but no programming lessons. “Do you mean you’d like to start programming lessons now?” – I asked. He blushed and hid his face in the pillows. When he looked up again I saw a big toothless smile.

Mozart’s gender

Have been reading my old The Adventures of Baron Münchhausen book to the kids, taking the time to view the gorgeous illustrations depicting mid-18th century fashion: “Imagine Dad wearing those bows on his shoes and pantalons!” Halfway through the book it turned out that Simon had been thinking Münchhausen was a woman! “Simon!” – I said laughingly, – “That really is what men were wearing those days, believe me! Think about Mozart! He was wearing such clothes, too! And a wig!”

Simon (who plays Mozart on the piano and was just telling me last week how horrible it was that Mozart died so young) gives me a big-eyed look:

– Was Mozart a man TOO??

Steven said I should be proud of him. He doesn’t have this notion that all the famous dead composers were men.