Darwiniana 2026

I feel like Mr. Hat here all the time.

Last night my 8yo son read me Green Eggs and Ham, all the way through, without stopping.

Not a milestone at your house, perhaps: your child did this at age 4, probably. Some of my other children did this at age 4. But this child, my seventh and my youngest, has dyslexia, and we have been working through a reading program designed for dyslexic brains. This is my second time through this program, and we started earlier with this child than we did with his older sister. I'd taught four children to read without more than the usual fuss, and couldn't understand why #5 was having such difficulty doing the things that worked before. With #7, I recognized the same signs earlier (and fortunately, hadn't resold my expensive dyslexia curriculum).

My mantra, in regards to teaching this one to read, is, "If it was easy, he'd be doing it already." It's tempting to compare progress with other children -- someone else's 8yo has beautiful neat even handwriting; his cousin is reading novels; other homeschoolers his age can read directions well enough to compete in a math tournament. I believe strongly in reading, and I want all my children to have a firm foundation of literacy. This guy needs some extra help and support, and this is a reason I continue to homeschool: I want to provide that support in a way that builds lifelong mastery and confidence, not just quick testable results which are forgotten as soon as they're documented. 

What that means in practice is a lot of me reading aloud books or instructions that other children his age could read themselves, and lots of what would be considered tutoring, I guess: one-on-one work at the table in various subjects instead of me sitting him down with a book or worksheet or paper for independent work. Is this the best way to do things? I don't know, but it's what seems to work for us.

I read recently an article about stages of brain development, which cited research about major developmental changes at ages 9, 33, 66, and 82 or 83. I'm trying to lay the foundation for some solid age-nine growth in my 8.5yo. Laying the foundation seems like the bulk of our parenting right now. My dad used to say, "I'm raising you kids to be adults," and that's something I think about a lot. Several of my children are legal adults, and others are fast approaching that age. I pray that their foundation is solid enough that they can continue to build on it themselves, and in turn, support new relationships and provide stability for future generations.

I don't write much these days partly because I feel like I've forgotten how to write, but also because as the kids take up working on their own foundations, their stories become their own, and I owe them the privacy of being able to do that work without Mom putting it out there for the world to discuss. Our last year was chaotic to an unprecedented extent for our family -- not bad, mind you, not evil, but challenging for everyone. The beginning of 2026 looks very different from the beginning of 2025, and our plans are different than we thought they would be. We're not prepping for a wedding, for one thing. Two daughters ended relationships; one has started a new one. Educational plans have changed for a few people. People are moving out, and moving back in. The younger ones live through these changes in a way that the older ones didn't have to (since it's the older ones making the big life shifts), and that leads to stresses and adjustments that didn't have to be made when all the kids were young. I don't know exactly how this works, but everyone feels like they're the middle child, falling through the cracks while everyone around causes drama. I literally, at this very moment, have a cat in the walls of my house. 

This is my wall, but this isn't even my cat.

Life feels all-consuming -- good, but all-consuming. My prayer life seems to consist mostly of the name of Jesus with each breath.

But we don't stop having small milestones because we have big milestones. And reading Green Eggs and Ham is definitely a cause for celebration. My 8yo wanted a blue camo hat, and as a reward for reading his book, we went to Amazon and picked out one he liked, because his developments are no less momentous than his older siblings'. What's one more hat, or one more cat, in a house and a life that's already so full? The foundation, I think, can take it.