It’s sad, but I’ve always wanted to fit in. It’s been a common theme in my life. I want to be accepted but I generally hide the weird, less socially acceptable parts of me, therefore I am pretty tough to get to know or understand. I used to trade authentic friendships for popular vanity, which only perpetuated my feelings of loneliness. As I’ve allowed more space to uncover my true self, it’s naturally made room for more people to show up and love me for me. Yet, I’m only human so there is still an insecure part of me that struggles with going against the grain, doing something different, and not fitting into the mold of what everyone else is doing. With all of that being said, you can imagine the struggle as I decided to withdraw my children from the school we loved so I could homeschool them. The decision was agonizing, and it totally messed with my mind all summer. Oh, also, I’m not a great decision-maker so that added to the drama of it all. What I did have was the support of my husband, family, and close friends. I also had the gut instinct that this is what I was going to do but I was just too scared to jump right in. I had to go through the obligatory self-doubt and personal turmoil, because who doesn’t love a good fear-based self-abuse session, am I right?
When it came time to make the final decision, we sat down as a family and listed the pros and cons. By this point we had already purchased an RV with the idea that if we did opt to homeschool, that we could pick up and travel and school from the road. So there we sat, pen and and paper, deciding things the old-fashioned way. I was doing my best not to project my fears onto my children but I worried that we would socially isolate ourselves, that I would be a crappy teacher, that we would all resent each other, that we would miss out, that we would be deemed as weird. It seemed all my thoughts were fear-driven and rooted in my lack of self-confidence. The kid’s cons were that they wouldn’t get to see friends, go on field trips, or have recess. Pearl convinced Bode that school would suck with a mask and made me promise to set up a “class store” so they could buy candy. Bode cried, he thought that he wouldn’t get to be a 1st grader if I were his teacher. Gus sat with a pillow over his face and couldn’t have been less interested in listing pros and cons…probably because he didn’t know what a pro or a con was. In my heart I felt like the decision was made but I also felt like the kids should be heard and their opinions valued. I also felt like it was important for them to address any concerns. The list of pros kept getting longer and as that list gained momentum, I started to feel a little more empowered that we could actually have success at home. I mean, if there were ever a year to do something different, THIS IS THE YEAR. If there were ever a year to have a major adventure, THIS IS THE YEAR. If there were ever a year to turn something negative (like, say, an apocalyptic virus) into a positive, THIS IS THE YEAR. THIS IS OUR YEAR.
So much has happened in my life lately that I’ve had very little control over. This I can control. I can teach my kids the things I find fascinating and important such as species of trees and social equality. I could bring awareness to holistic wellness and have fun PE dates at the local state parks, I could make friends with other homeschool Moms, but mostly we’d travel and learn through seeing, doing, and experiencing.
THE FIRST DAY BLUES
The first day of school for all the neighborhood kids was an epic fail in our household. I wanted to stay in bed and cry. I was scared out of my mind, I was depressed, I missed my Mom, I missed pre-COVID life, I missed makeup, what the hell did I do? What makes me think I could be a teacher? Fear was taking over so we got up and took a walk. Look at me, I thought, we’re up, we’re moving! It was in that brief moment of triumph that I saw the school bus down the road. Shit!! How could I forget the bus time? The bus passed, excited kids yelling out of the windows as our sad little homeschool quad walked along in our PJ’s. Great move, teacher-Mom. Okay, a park! Parks make things better. We hit the park down the road around lunch time only to realize the first day of school is a half-day. This time we met the bus carrying all our Wallace Grade School friends home from school. Yellow busses with loads of happy students everywhere we looked. I felt very “other” and like I had made a horrible mistake. The FOMO was almost unbearable. I looked at my handsome, dirty little brood and decided it was time try to start teaching them something.
As the start of the public school year came and went, we were going to get started any day. Any day now, I would step-up, play teacher and get things together. I even had a list of what I thought I needed to be a successful teacher-Mom. An organized homeschool space, a curriculum action plan, a schedule. Yep, I was gonna get on all of that real soon. I became really great at putting off the first day of school for the Manning kids. In the past we made a deal out of the first day of school, the outfit was planned out, there was a sign with a grade level and fun fact about each kid, and an ice cream bribe to smile. Okay pictures, we need “first day” pictures, then we will get this school rollin’.
Clearly, we nailed the pics and jumped in, sans a plan. The first day, actually the first week was a slackers dream. I joined a local homeschool Facebook group, googled some printables, asked teacher friends for help, purchased a couple lessons for the core subjects and spent a lot of the time at the park. Things started falling into place a little more each day and it started feeling good to be in charge of what they were learning. Mostly, after losing my Mom, it felt good having “my people” around me at all times. Selfish, but true. When people ask how it’s going, I say “okay.” Because it’s just that, okay. Not amazing, not awful, but somewhere in the middle and I’ve learned to be okay with okay. In 2020 being okay is basically the equivalent of excellent. Pearl misses normal life, school friends, the buddy bench at recess, the library, PE, the lunchroom, Glow Day, and so much from what a regular school year looked like in the past. Bode is thriving. Sure, he misses school but being at home and having me as his teacher seemed to take the pressure of learning off his shoulders-mostly because he doesn’t care what I think, but still. His reading skills have improved, he’s doing great at spelling and math. He also has time to play soccer, practice taekwondo moves, and ride his 4-wheeler. He has the space to be not only a friend, but a leader for Gus. Speaking of Gus, I wasn’t planning on teaching Gus much, he would have been in 3 year-old preschool at the YMCA if things were “normal”. Turns out, Gus was ready to learn and wanted to do his homework, just like his older siblings. With that being said, the luster of school work has kind of worn off as time went on, but he’s still able to write his name, identify some letters and do some basic math which is more than I taught the other two when they were little. Gus is happy at home, probably because he doesn’t know what he’s missing at school. As for teacher-Mom, her self-worth has slowly improved. I’ve never stayed at home with the kids, never really paid attention to what they were learning at school, and never pictured myself as a homeschool type of Mom. This experience has given me a new appreciation for teachers. It’s given me an opportunity to see myself in a different light. It’s given me purpose as well as a welcomed distraction after an emotionally exhausting 13 months in which I lost both my parents, discovered that I have a half-sister, quarantined through a pandemic, and battled depression.
The Ugly Truth Behind Homeschool
I signed Pearl and I up for a pottery class through the homeschool group, lost track of the day and missed it. I also got kicked out of the homeschool group within a couple weeks because I didn’t virtually introduce myself on the Facebook page. I literally have no concept of time and space because every day is the same.
The house is always a disaster. It’s like living in a tornado of fruit snacks, glue, and dog vomit.
I had visions of schooling in the RV but it’s noisy and rattles so we really can’t do any reading or writing while we’re on the road. It’s just flash cards and lots of yelling.
I stopped recycling. When we didn’t spend as much time at home I was able to keep up with hauling the recycling away but now that we seemingly never leave our house, they pile up too fast and again, I’m not prone to leaving the house.
I stopped caring about my appearance. At this point, our personal hygiene as a family unit is pretty questionable.
I work out more, but I also eat more because I have unlimited access to my pantry. When I was working full-time I packed a shake packet, a salad, and a pack of tuna. Now I’m up in here eating leftover goldfish and grilled cheese crusts, but also benching 95 pounds.
The contiguous 48 is pretty cold in the winter so it doesn’t make for great RV traveling conditions. School on the road sounded good but we’ve been home more than we’ve been traveling which is a major bummer for a Mom with a dream of life on the road.
Cocktail hours. That’s right, the “s” is supposed to be there. It might sound happy but really it’s just sad. I sit in the same home, with the same people I’m complaining about as I drink wine.
I developed a home decor fetish. I have literally nothing going on except life inside my home. I look around at the empty spaces or the hand me down decor and before I know it I have 15 pretty things in my Wayfair cart.
I started talking to my dog, well at least a lot more than I used to.
Much like parenting, homeschooling is thankless. The kid’s aren’t proud of me for teaching them, they actually like me way less than before I was their teacher.
Husbands don’t make great substitute teachers…everyone cries.
I personally have 3rd grade math PTSD which makes teaching 3rd grade math even more complicated.
I used to go out on the weekends, now I stay at home and do 1000 piece puzzles and crosswords.
It’s lonely.
RBF makes for crappy teacher faces.
Speaking of which, I am constantly being compared to their previous teachers. Shocker…I’m not as good.
My kids and I both now have anxiety associated with leaving the house.
Last night at 6pm, the UPS guy delivered my wine and found me still in my robe and my son dressed up like a girl.
Finding free school printables online is a nightmare.
I stay up til 1am watching Shameless on Netflix because I can.
No one in Illinois cares what you teach your homeschooled kids. Our state does not require anything to be turned in, which makes motivation for teaching somewhat difficult depending on my mood that day.
In all seriousness, this homeschooling thing has been a blessing. It’s been a good way to reconnect as a family, shed the busyness, it’s provided a reset in an unconventional way. We’ve visited some incredible places and can’t wait to hit the road again soon. Not to many 4 year olds from Illinois can say they’ve walked across the Rio Grande river and almost touched Mexico. Not to many 6 year olds from Illinois can say they’ve ridden a UTV to the top of the Great Smoky Mountains. Not many 9 year olds from Illinois can say they have pen pals in several states. Experience is by far, the World’s Greatest Teacher.
mpoweredstate 