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| Sometimes this person is my child. I'm not a helicopter mom, I'm just awkward. |
But a strange thing happened at this party on Saturday. Sometime during this small come-in-your-costume, Halloween-themed birthday party I progressed from socially awkward penguin to outsider. As the girls ate pizza and assembled crafts (wearing Elsa and Anna costumes, because every party is a Frozen party whether you want it to be or not), I listened to three other mamas commiserate about fundraisers, teacher communication, sight word tests and privacy folders, school cafeteria woes and car line. I had nothing to add. The Bug has never taken a test. She's the only student. We can make authentic, formative assessments as we go. And then as an afterthought, or maybe out of pity, came the question: How's the homeschooling going?
If I was articulate, I could have described just how much I love it.
How we get two whole mornings a week to wake up slowly and learn in our pajamas if we feel like it. How my children and I begin each school day with a few minutes of praying and memorizing scripture together and how for the past two weeks I've been trying to get The Bug to remember that not every verse ends with "will not perish, but have eternal life."
I could have said what a joy it is to get beautifully written letters from my child that she creates of her own volition because she is so excited to use the new words she has learned. I could have beamed with pride over the progress we've made in reading; how I've watched this skill that my daughter will carry with her for the rest of her life begin to blossom and grow as we sit side by side on the couch.
I could have explained all the things I have learned as we complete science projects together almost daily, and how we are beginning to bring the world to life one country at a time as we study geography. I could have expressed how my heart leaps to hear my daughter sing praises to Jesus as she works standing up at the table to complete her math assignment.
I could have described how bone-weary exhaustion fades away in the evening when I set out materials for the next day and begin to anticipate what we will learn together. I could have expressed that I am greedily and gleefully storing up hours with my children because, as The Bug in her wisdom pointed out last week at Publix, "time is slow, but fast" and I will not get these years back.
But I am not articulate.
I tried to explain, but the words just tripped clumsily over each other, something about how much fun we have and how fast the year is going... I made homeschooling sound lame. And I think by the time I was finished stuttering out a response we just felt mutually sorry for each other, the other mamas wondering how I can possibly teach anything through my ineptitude, and me feeling sad that they buy into the belief that homeschooling is only for the brave, crazy, or qualified. (Personally, I feel like you must possess at least a little of all of these qualities, but these are thoughts for another post.)
So by way of correction, let me say it here: Homeschooling isn't lame. I've been tagging our pictures and YouTube uploads with #weirdhomeschoolers ironically. And honestly, we are a little weird, but only in the most charming way. There's no doubt that homeschooling has become more mainstream since my husband and his siblings were homeschooled in the 1980s, but it's sorta sad that I'm still having to explain to strangers that my child is not skipping school and to friends that I'm not robbing my child of opportunities to become properly socialized.
We've got about thirty reasons why we homeschool, but the main reason is that after prayerful consideration we felt that this is where God is leading our family. I can't always come up with an on-the-spot answer to "How's the homeschooling going?" but now that I've found time to sit down and think about it, it's going pretty darn great. Thanks for asking. Next time you ask, stand near the chips. Junk food helps me think clearly.
