For years, we have enjoyed nature-focused science curriculum that essentially required that we spend time out of doors each day. However, this year, we are working on more project and experiment-based science which is totally fine. But it turns out that if my curriculum isn’t constantly insisting that I head out of doors … well, I don’t do a great job at it.

If you’re shopping for little ones this year, here’s my short list of gifts that feel fun and quietly do the work of growing fine-motor skills, attention, language, and confidence. These are the kinds of toys I love to keep in on hand for that post-nap slump. These gifts are beautiful, durable, and developmentally rich.

Most kindergarten and first-grade programs are built around academic checklists—letter sounds, handwriting drills, simple math, maybe a weekly theme or holiday craft. But at Gentle + Classical, we believe these early years are about something deeper—something more formative, meaningful, and enduring than a simple list of skills to master.

In Gentle + Classical Primer (and all our programs), we approach education as the formation of a whole person—intellect, virtue, imagination, and spirit. Instead of just teaching what, we focus on why it matters—through stories that shape the moral imagination, scripture and catechism that root a child in truth, and hands-on experiences that invite curiosity and joy.

It’s not a program you power through. It’s a year you live—together, side by side.

A Fresh Start for a Foundational Year

Let’s start here: You do not have to teach Latin to be a classical educator. You don’t have to teach Latin to follow the Charlotte Mason method. You don’t have to teach it to be a “serious” homeschooler or to prove your commitment to tradition. The truth is far more gracious than that, and far more freeing.

At some point in nearly every Gentle + Classical Teacher’s Guide, I include a small but important reminder:

This curriculum is written from my worldview, for my family, based on my current convictions, beliefs, knowledge, and abilities. But it will not be without fault—nor will it always perfectly reflect your convictions, beliefs, knowledge, or abilities.

I include that reminder not as a disclaimer but as a loving acknowledgment of what curriculum is—and what it isn’t. As homeschool parents, we all long for resources that affirm our values, align with our convictions, and point our children toward what is good, true, and beautiful. We want books that don't require a theological tightrope walk or constant pre-screening. That desire is valid. It’s not just reasonable—it’s deeply responsible.

But in the pursuit of that “perfect fit,” it’s easy to forget what the curriculum was designed to do. When we’re not careful, we can begin asking a curriculum to do more than it was ever meant to.

One of the most common questions I get asked is this:

“How do you actually use morning menus?”

Closely followed by:

“How do you do morning time in your family?”

And honestly? The answer shifts depending on the season we’re in.

Morning time at our house isn’t a fixed ritual. It bends with our energy levels, what we’re eating for breakfast (let’s be honest), the curriculum we’re using, and even the needs of each child. But no matter how it flexes, morning time has always remained a grounding rhythm—a gentle way to start our day with beauty, Truth, and togetherness.