Why I'm Thankful for Homeschooling, As It Turns Out...

When I told the universe, back in March, that I wanted more alone time with my husband, I should have been a little more clear.

And with two small children, we are SO far from alone.  I am never alone.  Not alone in the bathroom.  Not alone in the… well, what’s worse than not being alone in the bathroom, really?

And I thought I knew my kids.  Hell, I’m a Stay At Home Mom who works part-time only on evenings and weekends.  I thought I spent a lot of time with them.

Ha.

But this past month (month?  eon?  lifetime?  What the hell month is it now?) has taught me a lot about my kids.  It’s also taught me a lot about… me.  And I’m thankful for that.

Homeschooling my just-about-six-year-old son is a bit like trying to teach a border collie puppy to samba.  You know they’re really smart and they’ll get it eventually, when they finally decide put their mind to it, but it takes a LOT of effort, positive encouragement, and patience.  Oh, and don’t forget the the two-year-old, represented by the little chick who keeps cheeping at the puppy and also pecking at the puppy’s favorite Lego set.  My son could probably spend the entirety of this unending quarantine playing Minecraft, eating only “Sardine Crackers” (Saltine crackers) and getting up to pee (“IN the potty, please!!!!!”) every few hours, but ask him to do his writing assignment and suddenly he is like a kid on an episode of Intervention.  He can’t sit still, everything hurts, he’s hungry, and he’s tired all at the same time.  He does still have all his teeth, but only because he hasn’t lost any yet.  Also, he’s not on Meth.

He says he just can’t do it.  We take it slow.  I guide him and prompt him.  I wait.  I practice my yoga breathing.  (Shout out to my prenatal yoga teacher!  That life-skill got me through an unmedicated VBAC and now it’s getting me through kindergarten in my living room.  I won’t say which is more painful.)

And then he gets it.  Everything changes.  He’s proud, and I’m elated.  We did this together.  He did this.  I helped him.

I get to see my “challenging” kid work through a challenge.  School was easy for me.  Not so for my son.  I am teaching him phonics.  He is teaching me perspective.  I am teaching him addition.  He is teaching me patience.  I am teaching him perseverance.  He is teaching me that we have to parent the kids we have, not the kids we expected we’d have.​

He is teaching me to be a mom.  He’s my first-born.  He’s also teaching me to be HIS mom, and right now I’m taking the intensive course.  I didn’t sign up for it, but it’s required, so I may as well pay attention.  And you know what?  I’m finding parts of the course really rough, but overall, I’m actually pretty glad I’m taking it.