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Health & Fitness

Five Worries Of A Homeschool Mom

I've had many people ask me, "how is home school going?  Have you lost your mind yet? Are you ready to pull your hair out????"

The answer is "No."  Amazingly.  Although part of that might be explained away by the simple fact that we're only like two months in.  I always recommend to these people that they check back with me in March. Or maybe they won't have too as I'll have checked myself into the psych ward...and my hair will be gone, having long since been pulled out by my frustrated fist-fulls. 

The truth is, it has been easy so far but with that being said, there has also been a constant dialogue in my head that questions everything I do.  Luckily, there has also been a constant reassurance both from inside myself and from other amazingly supportive home school moms and that's what I cling to, what I try to focus on when the fears crowd in from every direction.

I'm not alone in this.  I hope this isn't a sweeping generalization but most first time homeschoolers spend the first few days, weeks, months tossing the doubts back and forth. It's too early for me to tell but there's a good chance that I will always have some doubts. We all make this decision to homeschool because we belive it's the right thing for our family but most of us still have those moments when we wonder and we question because we're human.  And also because we care about our children and we want to make sure that we're doing the best thing for them at all times.  We want them to learn, we want them to thrive.  We want them to feel loved and safe and happy.

The seasoned parents tell me that soon I'll catch my stride.  That I'll reach a certain level of confidence and while I will constantly need to re-evaluate,  I will feel much more at ease in my currently wooly, itchy, tight-fitting skin.  In the mean time, the questions keep coming.

Are they going to get terribly behind all of their peers, I ask myself as I crawl into bed?  And then I remember that today I heard my six year old use the words "intricately, obtuse and sarcophagus" in the correct context.  I saw my 8 year old plan a week's worth of meals and then shop for all of the items at the store, alone (and by "alone" I mean, I was with him while he shopped but I was acting as cart pusher)!  I had to ask my 11 year old to fix my computer for me now that she knows how to build her own system.  And then I take a deep breath because clearly their making strides.

But what of the socialization?  Are all the naysayers right? Am I somehow depriving them?And then I remember how during musical theater class at our co-op, they danced in a circle and crouched like tigers and played games that made them giggle face to face with twelve other kids and adults, how their faces were dripping with fun and friendship when their class ended and they ran into my arms. How these amazing kids they are meeting are crazy smart, encouraging, friendly and innovative and how in the interactions they have when they think nobody is looking, I hear them say things to my kids like, "you're such a good drawer", "I love this or that about you", "can I help you" or what I love the most, "I'm so glad you're here."  I remember how deflated they would often be when they stepped off the bus and how they seem ten feet taller when they come out of improv, folk dance, drawing or science class because they are surrounded by a loving group of kids and adults.   And then I put the worry out of my head.

Are they going to miss out on something? I ask when I see or hear what other kids are doing in school.  I answer this by knowing that we are reading many of the same books in the school's curriculum, that Carter would have read "Big House In the Big Woods" regardless except that at home, we took a field trip where he got to learn how to churn butter just like Mary did, how he got to can tomatoes, how he learned to make candles.  I answer by knowing that Maryn would have read the "BFG" in school but they probably wouldn't have gone outside with make-shift nets and "captured" invisible dreams.  They wouldn't have quickly stuffed them into glass jars and placed them on shelf.  They wouldn't have watched the dreams grow into beautiful things (that magically happens over night when little girls are sleeping).  And I'm comforted that while they will surely miss out on  group discussions and the knowledge and insight their other teacher surely has, it's a trade-off for all the other great things they get to do and that nobody has their best interest at heart like their mama does.

But don't they need to learn and practice real life with their peers? How will they know know how to navigate the hard knocks of life if they don't practice?   And I remember that every day, I have countless opportunities to lead by example, that I've taken enough hard knocks for all four of us put together (and still do) and I can be vulnerable and honest and tell them terrifying tales of woe that will not at all keep them from facing many of the same challenges but will give them a leg up when they are confronted with one and hopefully one day when they are in the mildewy basement of a friend's house being passed a doobie they will say, "gee this sounds a lot like that story my mom once told me,  how she got so stoned in high school that she forgot how to use toilet paper." And then hopefully, they will decide to pass rather than puff.  I can teach them through my mistakes.  I also remember that practice doesn't teach us how to deal with the challenges of daily life but character does and in teaching them how to be kind, honest, strong, loyal, confident and humble, I'm giving them a compass with which they can navigate the world.

Am I qualified enough?  This one is a doozy...because it plays into my very deep insecurities.  You know, the ones that I pretend don't exist until I have to teach my sixth grader how to evaluate variable expressions with whole numbers.  That's when my fingers go cold and my brain starts to st-stutter and I hear a voice from down deep inside that says, "YOU TOTALLY CAN'T DO THIS!"  And then I remember that one of the most valuable lessons in teaching is being able to be taught myself and that if I don't know how to do it, I'm teaching my daughter a double lesson by saying, "you know what, baby. I don't know how to do this.  Let's figure it out together and we'll both learn it."  When that happens we search and dig and help each other with problems until by golly, we both understand it.  That's when we give each other a high five and chest bump and we feel victorious together.  In this place, I am not her teacher, I am her partner and I'm teaching her not only the value of X but also the value of learning how to learn, that it's okay if she doesn't know everything and what matters most is that she is a seeker of knowledge that she never gives up.

No doubt, the questions and the worries will only get tougher as I weather the hardships of this new adventure but I'm so happy to have amazingly supportive mothers surrounding me.  Mothers who don't care if I ask them a bazillion questions.  Mothers who when I stress and grimace and vent, always nod their heads in understanding and say, "that's totally normal." Whether it's the community online or the community down the road, I've found so much support for all these questions and worries and I'm so grateful for that.

Where have these women been all my life?  It's so good to know that while there will always be questions, both from myself and outsiders, I have a community that's ready, willing and able to help me answer all of them.

Read more from Alicia at America's Next Top Mommy

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