Read the whole thing.

Our school year has gotten off the ground, finally, but it's not everything I hoped it would be. This is the first year I've written out a real schedule, with lesson plans and deadlines, and while I know it's necessary in some ways, it seems stilted in others, like a betrayal of the whole point of the thing.

I guess the Big Picture is finally coming clear, oh, here now that I've been a mother for 11 years - it's not about me, or my idea of a schedule, or even very much about the curriculum beyond "did you get that, honey, they might ask about that in college?". It's really just about them, their ability to make relationships, follow threads, draw conclusions. They are becoming very adept at all those things.

So, we fall back on the principle of the methodology: read the whole thing, the complete work, examine the entire piece, know why it's important at the beginning, middle, and end.
The Mona Lisa's expression is intriguing - she appears as if she'd reply if you spoke to her. You do not know this, though, by only examining her mouth. The entirety of the great work is what makes the subject so engaging, so memorable.

And so it goes with our school books - plodding through some, racing through others, backtracking and retracing steps even when that's not how you're supposed to do it. We're rebels like that.

So that, in a nutshell, is our lesson plan for higher learning: read the whole thing.

Thoughts? Arguments? Know we're fixing to crash and burn? I'd love to hear about it!