This is the first in a new series where I invite you into our home and share what learning really looks like for us—natural, connected, and woven into our everyday life. No two days are the same, but each one is filled with curiosity, conversation, and growth. I hope these glimpses inspire and encourage you on your own journey, whether you’re homeschooling, considering it, or simply seeking more intentional moments with your children.

I was up early this morning baking a loaf of sourdough I’d forgotten was fermenting overnight on the counter. Sometimes it goes flat if it over-ferments, but to my delight—it still turned out beautifully.

The kids woke up at different times today, so breakfast was staggered. I spent a quiet hour with the two youngest, snuggling on the couch and sipping coffee while the older two slept in until 8. I love the peace of our mornings. We live near a school, so we see the rush of drop-offs and pick-ups daily—a reminder to take a deep breath and appreciate the pace at which we get to live and learn together.

Once everyone was up, there was an unusual hush in the house. The kids were absorbed in their new library books. Yesterday, we signed up for the summer reading program at our local library —hands down our favorite homeschool resource. Between all four kids, we checked out about 30 books. Every library trip sparks fresh curiosity, and it’s magical to watch them spend hours reading—or looking, for the not-yet readers.

Our oldest (8) is deeply immersed in a “learning bowl” that started with a book on the mystery of the Mary Celeste. It has since grown into a deep dive on unsolved mysteries, Sherlock Holmes, modern detective work, historical spies, ciphers, and secret codes. This morning, he asked for help making a Caesar cipher secret message. We spent about 20 minutes learning about the code, creating our own message, and then decoding it. The middle two wandered over and wanted in, so our oldest explained it to them—a brain-stretching exercise for everyone!

Not long after, our three-year-old asked, “What happens if I put water in this?” while holding up her sister’s diaper. Since we strongly encourage curiosity and questions in our home, we decided to follow the thread. When the older boys heard the word “experiment,” they came running. We worked together to design our investigation, dyeing the water purple for extra fun. They helped figure out how to measure how much water the diaper could hold, weighed it, and did the math. Then we looked up what makes diapers so absorbent and discussed the science and engineering behind their creation. The conversation naturally turned to the history of diapers, from cloth to modern innovations—and I paused for a grateful moment for how far we’ve come. The kids happily spent the next several minutes squeezing the soggy diaper over the sink, testing their theories.

With the experiment done, it was time to get moving. The two oldest headed outside to feed the chickens before taking care of their daily responsibilities—getting dressed, tidying their spaces, brushing teeth and hair. We encourage each child to take initiative and ownership of our home, so sometimes they surprise me by bringing down laundry, wiping a counter, or handling a small task they noticed needed doing. Other times, they get lost in play or a book instead.

While the boys got ready, my three-year-old and I made a quick batch of sourdough together. I timed us—it took just six minutes to feed the starter and weigh the ingredients. We left the dough on the counter to ferment. Sometimes I bake it the same day, other times it cold ferments in the fridge for a few days if life gets busy. I’m a strong believer in “good enough.” My sourdough turns out perfectly most of the time—and I definitely don’t follow all the “perfect” recipes. If you’re hoping to get started, I’d be happy to share my simple, flexible approach. It’s way less intimidating once you realize great bread doesn’t require a dozen precise steps. I guess you could say I’m a bit of a natural scientist too.

Since my husband was home, we all joined in for a family workout. Dad lifted weights, the kids used resistance bands and did yoga, and I rode the Peloton. The kids don’t always work out with us, but they often join in because they think it’s fun—and they love copying what we’re doing.

After a quick store run, it was time for lunch: berries, carrots, snap peas, and almond butter-honey sandwiches on the fresh sourdough. My husband and I had leftover split pea soup.

After lunch, we dove into an epic Dungeons & Dragons quest during the baby’s nap. The boys got sidetracked in a rabbit hole about potential monsters, rattling off hit points and special powers they’d memorized. Along the way, we practiced math, problem-solving, teamwork, critical thinking—and had plenty of laughs. Our three-year-old lost interest partway through and chose to practice writing letters instead.

Later, we headed outside to play. We searched for bugs and slugs, dug in the dirt, and picked strawberries from our garden. I stole a few minutes in the hammock, soaking up the fresh air and the sweetness of the moment.

Dinner was a family affair—cucumbers cut by the kids at the table while I made roasted eggplant and chickpea tacos. They were divine. We cleaned the kitchen together, as we usually do.

Bedtime included nearly two hours of reading, as is our nightly rhythm. We’re currently reading Anne of Avonlea after a handful of picture books. Sharing a long chapter book for 30-45 minutes helps the kids wind down and drift into sleep. Most are out by 8:00, though sometimes our oldest stays up reading just a bit longer.

And that’s a random Thursday in our homeschool—no workbooks or formal curriculum today, as is often the case. But it was full of learning, exploration, questions, creativity, and connection. And that, to me, is what homeschool is all about.

Thanks for coming along for a peek into our day. It’s not always tidy or planned, but it’s full of life and learning. I’ll be sharing more glimpses like this to show how homeschooling can be both meaningful and manageable—one day at a time. Be sure to check back for the next post in this series, and feel free to share what your own days look like in the comments. We’re all learning together.

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