Confessions of a Home Schooling Parent

So I have to confess something that I've been reticent to bring out into the light to my little blogger community: Kelly and I are homeschooling our kids.

Well, I shouldn't say kids--just one kid. It's just our oldest, he's in first grade, and the others aren't yet school-aged. We're not out to make a statement. We don't think public schools are evil. We're a bit sheepish about it. Just thought it was good for this kid. For this year. We'll take it one year at a time.

And we hope that all of us manage to escape relatively academically and socially un-scathed. We're not exactly cranking up the home-schooling propaganda machine.

At any rate, my wonderful wife had really thoughtful write-up on her Facebook notes that she has graciously allowed me to share with you all. She called it "Random Musings on Home Schooling at the Present Moment." Enjoy!

I must start by saying I don’t think homeschooling is the right way. I have no intention on debating the right way to school children, mostly because I’d probably agree with you, whatever your stance.

Children need exposure to diverse people, families should be a blessing to the community, there are opportunities galore, public school is the way to go. Yes. Private schools offer unique perspectives and methods, nurturing communities, children whose parents are invested in their education, yes. Charter schools are the perfect blend of free and diverse with interesting programs and emphases. I agree.

Nonetheless, for now we’ve chosen to homeschool our oldest, who is a first grader, for several reasons, some to do with him, some to do with the options available to us, some to do with our appreciation of a few of the benefits of homeschooling.

We have not committed to do this for the long haul. We recognize the good things about other kinds of schooling we’ve had to say “no” to in order to make this choice, or any choice at all.

The following is a smattering of observations at this point in my homeschooling career, in no particular order, with no particular purpose other than to observe what life is like these days and to get them out of my head and into yours. Thanks for helping me out here.

The house is a disaster much of the time.

The art work and supplies, the gigantic stack of library books, the schooling materials, the toys, the kitchen mess, the doors swinging open and closed as children fly through. The house gets used hard. We don’t leave it for the day and come back to it. We live in it constantly, learn, create, eat, play, make fingerprints on the walls and leave dirt in the bathroom sink. It’s an uphill battle to keep it tidy.

I talk with my kids all. day. long. It's wonderful. It's exhausting.

We cover every conceivable topic over the course of a day. They ask all kinds of questions, want to know what “the bills” are and why we pay them and what happens if we don’t. How does a wedding ceremony work? What if the kids were grown-ups and the grown-ups were kids? When is the State Fair? What’s for lunch? Can I have a new toy? What does the esophagus do? Why does that truck have flashing lights? And on and on and on. Seriously, I love that we talk and talk and talk.

And... at the end of the day, I cannot possibly utter another word.

I am so pleased that we can spend so much time outdoors, enjoying and learning about nature.

Last week, we took a hike at the river and spent the morning playing and finding all kinds of interesting plant and animal specimen. Today, we spent the morning with a state park ranger learning about fish and spending a couple of hours fishing. Next week, we’re planning an afternoon at a horse farm where we’ll learn about horses and ride one. It feels “right” to me for young kids to be outdoors a great deal, absorbing and learning about nature.

I never know if we’re doing enough of one particular thing. Enough phonics/math/reading instruction? Enough play? Enough peer time? Enough down time? Are they doing enough chores? I have no idea. Enough for what?

It’s a privilege to be there when a lightbulb goes off, when I’ve worked hard with my son and he’s worked hard and suddenly it makes sense and he’s reading! It’s a gut-wrenching drain when he’s resistant and I’m tired and we have to work out our relationship over a phonics lesson.

It’s a joy when siblings play happily and creatively together. It’s exasperating when they bicker and tease and chaos reigns. It’s a delight to spend quantities of time together so that we have inside jokes and a lot of knowledge of one another and tons of shared experience. It ‘s very confining to need some space from all the relating and not be able to get it.

I am conflicted about how much energy I must pour into my own home to make this life work. Could I be doing more, blessing more people, helping more outside the confines of these walls if I weren’t teaching my own? Yes, I think so.

But, as best I can discern, I’m following my calling for today, and I hope I’ll hear the voice of change when it’s time to make a different choice, and I try to fight back my discontent that I can’t do it all, all at once, and trust in seasons and the God over them.

So, who knows? Monday morning, the big yellow bus may come by, and I might just have my kids waiting at the bus stop, ready to go wherever it takes them. And they'd have great days and be well on their way to being great grown-ups.

But, more likely, we’ll be here around the dining room table, all of us together, talking and making a mess and learning some stuff. And that will be good, too.