I didn't know what I had until until Elizabeth named it--blogging ambivalence is what it's called, and I've been suffering terribly. But I'm happy to announce I've found the cure. Planning! Planning is the cure. Last night, as I snapped photos of books and post-it notes, my husband looked at me quizzically and asked, "People really want to see that?" I exclaimed most assuredly that you did, dear readers, so don't let me down!
I must admit to you, I am a lesson planning geek. I blank slate for the year, a pile of great resources, and a touch of inspiration sets my heart all a-flutter. When I was a teacher way back when, I was thrilled at the thought of summer and a blank lesson plan book. The glitch is that five little people have made it their mission to need me directly in the middle of every coherent thought I think. I am not a teacher, spending my summer student-free with lots of time to plan. I am a mom, turning a million thoughts over in my head at once while changing a diaper and refereeing a battle, one-click ordering with one hand while feeding a toddler with the other, talking ideas over with friends while preparing dinner. But even in the midst of all that, it eventually comes together. And when it does, I'm like a planning junkie--driven for the next chunk of time when I can map out another subject. So here's how my thoughts came together this year:
First, the vision, the big picture: Maybe it's a particular educational philosophy, a core curriculum, or a decision on what history you're studying, that begins to make your thoughts take take shape. For me, it was a deep pull back in the direction of my Charlotte Mason roots and and conversation with friends feeling much the same way. That coupled with the fact that the second half of American history was already a given and Quinn's request to study Greek mythology began to shape a vision.
Next, make some key decisions: Once I had an idea where we were going and how we were getting there, I began to think about core subjects for each student and choose resources. I thought about faith formation and how I wanted it to look this year. And I got excited about our family studies and spent hours searching for book lists and recommendations. This was when my brain clicked into overload and ability to communicate anything in written form came to stunning halt. I could not find an uninterrupted time to get things out of my brain and into the neatly linked, shareable format I wanted them. There were pages of lists and thoughts, spotted with sticky finger prints and coffee rings. Notes were scribbled in catalogues and my Amazon shopping cart was a dumping grounds for title overload. Finally, I could take it no longer. Even though I was could not find a nice afternoon to run away to a quiet place, I had to get some of this out of my head. So I powered through, creating Google book lists for family studies and mapping out a subject by subject plan for each of my students in the evenings that Greg was at class, while the kids ran around wildly engaged in constructive play.
Map it out: Once I cleared my brain clutter, I began to desperately desire the chance to map out a weekly plan and see if this was going to work. I had a knot in my stomach worrying that I had decided on too much and was going to need a major edit. It would've broken my heart. I had this nagging fear that I was going to need to clip and cut at the beautiful educational story I had written until it read like an easy-reader version of a classic novel. Elizabeth reminded me of the the beauty of post-it note planning and how easy it would be to move things around and edit that way. A quick stop at CVS on the way to go the kids happy meals a nutritious white-meat trans-fat free dinner, and I was good to go. So last night, I gathered my supplies:
post-it notes, a pen, two manila folders, the journal that held all those notes and ideas, a cup of spiced chai, and my workhorse: the laptop
I piled up key resources that we already own, tabbed Amazon on my browser, and kept favorite catalogues nearby for a reminder of key purchases.
Then I laid my manila folders out to create a master grid for the week based on this sample. The columns are for the days of the week and the rows contain blocks for family work, faith formation, and each of my students.
I took my subject-by-subject list and started to map out the week. A focus for daily faith formation came first, each students core subject lessons next, and family study blocks last. And it all fit!
There was no need for major revision! I was so relieved I went on a full-fledged planning binge that kept me awake until 2 am!
From the weekly list, a daily rhythm was born: 
With those two things in place, I can now start to map put individual subjects and break down resources into lessons, mapping out the year week-by-week, day-by-day. I was getting tired at this point, but I wanted the satisfaction of doing at least one subject, so I broke down Quinn's weekly Spanish lessons for the year and our Liturgical Tree plans through Advent. I fell asleep buried under fine arts plans.
It was SO satisfying to get so much done. I feel like I can finally articulate a coherent thought again. And I'm on a roll--today's plans: blog it, type it up, and keep mapping.
I hope to be able to share what all those little post-it notes say and just where that Liturgical tree is headed in the next few days. I'm so glad I got diagnosed and found the cure for my blogging ambivalence, I sure have missed hanging out in my little corner of cyberspace!