How to Instill Patience | Day 13
Welcome to the LIVE audio version of our homeschool vlogs. In these videos, you'll hear the delightful voices of the children, my verbal instructions to the children (often too much instruction) and the quiet and slow between the projects, and the laughter and joy of the play.
Thirteen days into homeschooling my four-year-old triplet nephews for a Waldorf-inspired kindergarten, and on Thursday, October 1, 2026, I learned something that genuinely shifted my perspective on what it means for a child to struggle through a task.
We began with our usual opening activities, checking the weather, season, and calendar with our little peg dolls. Of course, the most anticipated moment was checking on the bird who has been sitting on her eggs for what feels like years. The eggs had finally hatched, and I showed the children the two tiny fledglings tucked into the nest.
They were thoroughly unimpressed.
My sister-in-law and I had to laugh because I had expected so much more excitement. After a few more activities from our fall morning basket, we headed into the kitchen for our projects.
I brought out wool for carding and shared some of the scarves I had dyed with madder root. But the biggest surprise came when my nephew who had struggled so much with weaving the week before was the first one to ask for it again.
I had not planned to bring weaving back.
There had been so much frustration the first time, and I realized that part of the problem was mine. I had introduced a project that was really better suited to my 11-year-old nephew than to four-year-olds. I still believe weaving has a place in kindergarten, but it needs to be presented on a scale that is developmentally appropriate.
I also noticed something important. If I keep correcting a child and the same mistake continues to happen over and over again, perhaps the answer is not that the child needs more correction. Perhaps the task itself needs to change.
So this time, I stopped correcting them.
Their weaving was not technically right. They did not consistently alternate the over-under pattern each time they turned their boards, but they were engaged. They were enjoying the movement. Most importantly, the child who had been so frustrated the week before came back to the work willingly.
That felt far more valuable than perfect weaving.
Meanwhile, my 11-year-old nephew had what may have been the best project of the day. I taught him how to use my wood-burning tool so he could personalize the new acacia cutting boards I had bought for the children. Until now, they had been using an assortment of cutting boards that were broken, too large, or too small. Now each child has one of his own with his name burned into the wood.
Spending more time helping my older nephew also created more space for imaginative free play. The children continue to love the large wooden play structure from Head, Hands, and Heart Boutique. I covered the entire structure with an enormous piece of fabric that I cut and sewed together, creating a cozy enclosed space for their pretend play.
Back in the kitchen, everyone settled into his work. The boys continued weaving, my older nephew worked on the cutting boards, and my sister-in-law carded wool for our final project.
The children had been asking to make wet-felted pumpkins, so my sister-in-law wrapped wool around bouncy balls and tied string around them to create those familiar pumpkin ridges. I made homemade pizzas while everyone worked. Normally the children help prepare their snack, but I was trying to save time.
We still went an hour over. After eating, the children wet felted their pumpkins in hot and cold water while I prepared a madder root dye bath. Once the wool had felted around the balls, each child placed his pumpkin into the dye and watched the natural wool begin changing color almost immediately.
We ended the day with The Hedgehog Leaves Home. We finally reached the end of the book, but not the end of the story.
From here, I plan to return to the beginning and tell the story from memory. I will need to practice it so the story remains consistent each time, because children remember far more than we sometimes realize. I will continue adding the props we have already made, along with a few the children have been asking for. I still need to sew that little fox. Then it was time to gather projects, shoes, socks, and belongings and bring another kindergarten day to a close.
What stayed with me most was not the felting or the weaving itself. It was realizing that struggle does not always mean a child needs more correction. Sometimes it means I need to reconsider the task, step back, and make room for perseverance to unfold on its own.
