This morning as I sat sipping a hot cup of coffee I passed what little leisure time I have by scrolling through my Facebook feed. It was great, and instead of a barrage of depressing current events or angry, political status updates I was instead greeted by sweet, smiling faces. Everywhere I looked were adorable, beautiful children of all ages, backpack over their shoulders, and smiles on their faces.
The smiling faces of the future.
The “first day of school” pictures had arrived to social media.
I had decided for our household that school would start in mid-August, but I wondered if even then I might take a photo to share. After all, on our first day of class we would likely be in pajamas, and our classroom would be the kitchen table. Because I was a homeschooling mom.
As I looked at the shiny pictures of children attending traditional, public school a small sliver of concern needled at my brain, and it wasn’t the first time I had worried about our family’s decision.
Is homeschooling hurting my child?
My four year old was bright, brilliant, and so articulate. Although I was biased others took notice of her above average vocabulary, and she had pleasantly surprised many when she spoke in full, understandable sentences before her second birthday. Yet I worried. I suppose that’s what moms do.
She was at an age where the traditional education system would place her in Pre-K, but we had already completed a four year old curriculum the previous year. While not an independent reader just yet she showed great promise, and could easily sound out smaller words with minimal prompting.
I felt she was ready for kindergarten, but I was no expert. And that disbelief in my own abilities was what challenged me most. I wasn’t so worried about my shining star. She would bloom anywhere. It was her weary mother that caused me concern.
Was I pushing her too fast?
Was she possibly missing out on something else offered out there?
What about when she exceeded my own knowledge? How would I teach her then?!
And although when I saw the sappy, sad posts from moms of other little ones I thanked my lucky stars I wouldn’t be leaving my baby in a new place for the first time, I still wondered, am I sheltering her too much?
Should I force her to be more independent?
I read a few comments about how good it was to push them outside of their comfort zone, and though I wondered what was wrong with a four year old wanting their momma, I worried if I was holding on too tight.
Was I?
I had a short amount of time to raise my children. Some days it seemed like twenty-four hours lasted forever, but if I had learned anything in the past five years it was this.
Time flies.
Time flies, and I had just a minuscule portion of it in which to spend time with my quickly growing children. I wanted to make it count, and maybe I was being selfish, but I didn’t want to share it. I had been given the opportunity of time, and I couldn’t waste it. I had been given the opportunity to spend that time at home with my children, and I wanted to make the most of it.
After my first year spent trying to teach a preschooler I had nothing but respect for teachers everywhere. I couldn’t imagine how they did it with a class full.
Be still. Pay attention. Yes, you may go to the bathroom. Again.
I had learned quickly the importance of prayer before teaching my daughter, and I could see why people thanked God for those heroes who educated their children. They certainly wore a cape of patience and endurance.
But despite the many, gifted individuals out there called to teach the masses, I was called in my own way to teach mine. And I was grateful for it. Despite my misgivings and self-esteem issues I was certain of God’s leading for me to lead my own charges.
I wanted the freedom to say my four year old was ready for kindergarten, and I was excited that I had boxes of different curriculum I could look through and decide which would suit her individual needs best. I could decide to include Biblical instruction, and have zero concern for offending others.
We could pray before our lesson, say the Pledge of Allegiance, and have no worries whatsoever that another classmate might do something cruel and unspeakable. Or, God forbid, pull out a gun.
I could teach sex education on my own terms, when I decided, and it wouldn’t be learned on the back of a bus like it had been for me.
We could wear pajamas if we wanted, and no one would make fun of us for not wearing the most popular name brand. No one would bully my daughters for wearing thrift store hand-me-downs, or for respecting their bodies and their moral convictions.
Many would disagree with me. Thankfully my children were mine to raise.
I couldn’t control everything, but I could control a lot, and that was important to me. God had given them to me to protect, and I took that seriously. God gave them to me to lead and guide the way I knew in my heart was the best, and I wanted to do just that.
We could join clubs, play sports, take dance, attend classes with other homeschool children, but also take an unexpected field trip to the park if that’s what we wanted.
I wasn’t a teacher by trade; I was a nurse, but I was also a mother. And I am a mom who, thank God, has the freedom to make decisions for her children that she knows in her heart is for their best interest.
The thing is, for every parent that specific decision is different, but for me it is to homeschool. I know without a doubt that particular decision is the one for us. For her, and for our family.
I worried sometimes if what I was doing for my children was the correct thing. I guess that’s what moms do. But deep down I knew we were on the right track.
Maybe I just need to take a picture the first day, though. After all, y’all know how I love pictures.
Kalah says
We took one ! Pj’s on with laundry in the background.
Esther DuPont Weeks says
Brie…….I know without a doubt……that the Lord led me to read this today. I have been homeschooling Asher for three years and still struggle with the same worries. The past few weeks have been the worst. I mostly worry about if I’m teaching him enough and if he is where he needs to be. I also worry about wether or not I’m a good example to him. Yes, I blow up sometimes. It is very difficult when you have younger ones and the school aged child wont do his work well unless I’m sitting with him. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you.