sunday sunday

One of the greatest perks of living an unschooling life is not the freedom - though that is certainly enough in itself - but that you get used to ... just .... well, living.
I mean... you wake up at six, and think "I want to go to the library today," so you tell your husband as he gets ready for work on Sunday morning, and you both decide that you'll take him to work so you can have the truck.
You get the babies up, and all pile into the warm truck (suv, whatever) -in your jammies- and head downtown.
On the way back home, the three of you that are left start talking and thinking.
"Wanna go to Daddy's work for breakfast?" Eric is Chef, so it's something that we can do. "I was thinking of going to the big city library, too.... want to?"
And so you come home and watch Leonardo da Vinci, so you can take it back to the library. And then you get a book from the shelf on the same...
Soon enough you're checking out the planetarium online (because you have memberships), and wondering if you want to see "Secret of the Cardboard Rocket" for the fourth time or "Mystery of the Nile" which you haven't seen. You look up the trailer, and watch it. And it seems like a good idea...
And you take the funky king-sized sleepingbags to the coin-op laundry to wash them and come home to shower and get ready for the day and hurry and back to the laundry so the attendant doesn't get mad at you for taking up her super-size load washers and then abandoning your stuff...
and then you go to breakfast.
And you get to sit and drink iced tea while their Daddy races the babes outside on the downtown sidewalk.
After a yummy breakfast you go to the library - and piddle, and look at movies, and get ScoobyDoo and Nature and Teddy Roosevelt books.
After playing near the fountain and racing around the stone pathways, you think it's time to go to the planetarium... so you do.
And you're on time to see "Mystery of the Nile" and you're glad and you like it.
And when you're leaving downtown -after several hours of adventure- someone asks if you can go to the park, and you think, "Why not?" and you all start talking about which one.
In the name of adventure, a little boy chooses one that you haven't been to in about a year, and so you head up the hill from home.
After much play (and not quite enough sunshine) everyone is again hungry, and quite finished, and ready to come home.
So you come home and drop the overly-full cloth grocery bag of books onto the floor, and immediately it gets rummaged through and you go into the kitchen to fix the requested (quick) meal, and eventually everyone settles into a computer
or a television
or a book.
And it works.
You had no idea how the day was going to go when you first woke up
and still
It Works.