The Gift of Homeschooling

The night, seven years ago, when we drove to a neighboring town, our two kiddos safely buckled in the backseat I was excited but harboring a twinge of guilt. I felt as though I was cheating on Erica's kindergarten teacher. We were on our way to a dinner, but more specifically it was a monthly gathering of homeschoolers.

Since before Erica was born, we had talked about parenting and about our children's futures, dreaming and scheming. We talked about homeschooling and at that time had decided on it, but when your child is not even born yet, the prospect of school seems so very far away.

Five years later, as Erica's fifth birthday loomed, we were living in a new community, dealing with a county-ordered lead abatement project in our new home (a post for another day), myriad health issues and I was feeling incredibly alone. I had no one nearby with whom I felt I could share the mothering journey. With a toddler and soon to be school-aged child at home I was suddenly overwhelmed at the prospect of undertaking her (and his) education.

Erica never attended preschool and the open registration for kindergarten had come and gone.

I can't even remember the defining moment when I decided that she should attend public school, but I do remember a mild sense of relief.

Which lasted about a week.

But we followed through. After I had toured the two options for her elementary education in our town, I enrolled her in one and we were on our way.

I fell in love with the school--it was an older building with lots of character.

I respected and admired the principal--a no nonsense woman, who knew each of "her" students by name.

And I found her teacher to be a warm, kind, intelligent woman.

I was a volunteer mom in the classroom. Erica for the most part enjoyed her friends and the activities. She did not like recess (too much noise) and did not like lunch (too fast).

There was no defining moment when we decided to withdraw her from school. It was more like a series of events and an enduring belief that homeschooling was the ideal path for our family.

I wrote a letter to the principal and her teacher and quietly withdrew her.

I felt a huge surge of relief and freedom.

So, then what did we do?

We played games, created art projects, cooked and did kitchen science experiments. We tracked the weather and the phases of the moon. We dug in the dirt and planted seeds. We filled plastic storage bins with water and splashed around in them on the living room floor. We did naked toe painting. We watched Winnie-the-Pooh. We built forts and played dress-up. We made puppet shows and danced to music. We made a map of our neighborhood. We blew bubbles and created art with sidewalk chalk. We met more people. And we read and read and read.

I suspect neither of my children will be a NASA astronaut or a brain surgeon.

Will they each be a success?

Well, that depends upon your definition of success.

The answer for me is yes.

They succeed every day.

They succeed in being exemplary human beings: 

Loving and kind. 

Inquisitive and thoughtful.

Curious and adventurous.

Respectful and confident.

Helpful and supportive.

And I get to be there, every moment, watching them, as beautiful flowers, unfold.

That is the gift of homeschooling.