Our homeschool journey

In less than a month, I will begin homeschooling my children for the first time.

And I am scared.

This is not the emotion I expected to feel when my homeschooling wish finally came true.  I have thought about homeschooling ever since I was introduced to it through two college house-mates who had been homeschooled.  They were so smart, so personable, so warm.  Their families were so close.  They talked about mothers who had refused to give into the idea that the teenage years had to be so agonizingly awful for the parent/child relationship.

I was hooked.

I spoke to my husband about my interest in homeschooling before we were even engaged.

And then we got married.  And our children came along.  And I made friends with our NFP-teacher who (guess what?!) homeschooled her children.  And I took my toddlers to homeschool groups.  And I started learning about curriculums, and I even started purchasing the first of many homeschool-inspired expenses over the years.

But when it came down to it, we decided not to homeschool.  We sent our daughter to our local Catholic school, and year after year after year we agonized over what the right decision was for our family -- What did God want?  What could we handle? -- and year after year after year that answer was the same: Send them to St. Mary's.

Most of this decision came from my husband's lead.  But you know what?  Those were some very good years.  We met beautiful families, and our children had great, committed teachers.  There definitely was grace in working with my husband, versus digging in my heels until we could do things MY way.  I shed tears and carried an anguished heart for a period of time every May and September (when we made the decision and when they actually headed back to school), but unity triumphed over discord.  I can see how God did indeed lead us through my husband, and I am thankful.

So thankful, in fact, that now that we have reached a mutual decision to homeschool all four children this year (we did homeschool our kindergartner last year), I cannot believe how sad I am!

Leaving our school family, the place our children have been happy for so long, is downright painful!

I couldn't stop myself from crying at my son's class play on the last day of school.  And I have shed quite a few tears since then, too.

I do have reasons for wanting to homeschool, and they do seem like good ones.  My husband and I even brainstormed a list the other day -- something I could refer to as things get tough in the trenches from time to time this fall: family and sibling unity (or at least, more of it); increased opportunities to share faith, and pray as a family; increased opportunities for our children to learn household skills; more flexibility to do things together as a family; the opportunity to tailor studies to best meet each child's needs; more opportunities to introduce really good, beautiful books; more time to play or to pursue individual interests; more opportunities for us to just have good conversation with them.

Note that in many of the above items, I used the wording "more opportunities."  The opportunities will be there; it will still be up to us to take advantage of them.

All of the lurking I have done around homeschool blogs and all of the brain-picking I have done to homeschooling friends over the years paid off as I spent a good month in between June and July chosing curriculums, and organizing the house, and trying to get a handle about how this is all going to work.  Yes, my two oldest children read well and are accustomed to sitting still and listening for decent lengths of time.  But there also has been no gentle breaking-in period when they were doing kindergarten-level work and the stakes didn't seem so high.

To suddenly be responsible for the work of a high-level fifth grader, while definitely doable, also seems a bit intimidating.

Fortunately, my oldest daughter will be attending a local homeschool enrichment program, one I have heard about from friends for years, and have been eagerly awaiting the day she would be old enough to attend.  Whenever I feel those feelings of fear regarding the year ahead coming over me, all I really have to do is go downstairs and look at her stack of books on the shelf, and I am so excited about sharing those books with her, that many of my fears melt away.

We've done a couple "homeschool" days recently, and while I think it will take a while to figure out how and when everyone gets the time with me they need, there have been moments that just stop my heart -- "This is the reason I wanted to homeschool" moments.

Like soaking beans in water overnight so we could peer inside them the next morning, and having my six- and four-year-olds completely transfixed on everything I was doing.  And sitting down to read Bible stories with those youngest two, and having my eight-year-old climb over the couch to listen, and ask for more when I was done, too.  And discussing the nervous system with my eight-year-old, and listening in wonder as he made some comment about the brain-spinal cord-nerves connection that showed he really was engaged in our discussion.  And helping my 10-year-old to see she doesn't need to fear math, or feel like it's her worst subject.  If she can slow down and be patient with herself, she can do it!

Those moments when they're learning, and engaged, and you're sharing it with them, and it almost seems a bit ... magical.

There also have been those moments in prayer, time and again, when I have felt reassured that this is God's will for our family this year.  Because really, regardless of what I feel like I want, what I really want is to do God's will for our family.

But more on that in the next post!

To be continued...