It's Not You, It's Me...

So here it is: The Thrill is Gone, Part 2.

In the first year of our little home-based educational adventure I was, frankly, in love. Everything that had annoyed me about that old boyfriend, private school, was gone. This new guy, homeschooling, was a lot of fun.

Many of the things I’d feared about homeschooling turned out to be non-issues – like being with my kids all the time. Like a lot of other parents, I was worried that the 24/7 nature of schooling at home would do me in, mentally. In fact, I discovered that I actually enjoyed my kids. They were really funny. And smart. They could do a lot more than I realized they could, and it was really fun to feel like I was nurturing their creativity and their little spirits.

I had also worried about my lack of teaching experience. That, too, turned out to be unfounded. I had already taught my kids many things they needed to know – how to go potty, how to ride a bike, how to set the table, and the major bones in the human body. (Okay – DH was the one who taught them the bones. He thought it was a great party trick.) Homeschooling just turned out to be an extension of other parenting duties. Of course there were things I had to learn about teaching. But there were plenty of resources to help me do that, and I applied myself.

What's more, I found that our whole family was benefitting as a result of this decision. DH and I really felt like we had our kids' hearts. They listened to us, they respected us, they knew no other teachers. For the most part, they did not question our wisdom or our authority. There was trust.

But, as with all other relationships, there were some unpleasant surprises along the way. I did not know what I did not know. Like how there is a BIG difference between knowing how to write and knowing how to teach a third grader to write. Like how hard it is to be patient when your kid just isn’t getting how place value works or why you can’t add fractions like you do whole numbers. Like how much of my own pride is invested in how well they do (or don’t do) on tests. Like how there IS NO PERFECT CURRICULUM, no scope and sequence for making your kids sin-free and superhumanly intelligent.

That last point is a big one. In fact, I think it is what's causing me to fall out of love: Homeschooling is not Mr. Perfect. I really, really wanted him to be. I need there to be SOME answer, some antidote, for my children’s shortcomings. There has to be SOME book, some teaching method, some learning system out there that will make them smart, obedient, successful, articulate, good-looking, and infallible, and “together.” Because if there’s not… well, then it’s all up to me, isn’t it?

I’m speaking the unspeakable here, I know. This is devastating to admit, but it’s true: I want my kids to be perfect. And the longer I homeschool, the more I am forced to acknowledge that that is never going to happen.

That first year of homeschooling, I was a believer. I didn’t say it out loud… but in my heart, I believed that homeschooling would turn out superior kids. Superior academically, superior socially, superior emotionally, superior spiritually. I believed that I was making this huge, noble sacrifice that would give my kids a tremendous advantage over other kids their age – no, not just over other kids, but over the kids they would have been had we continued down the traditional school path. I believed they would have genius test scores. I believed they would love reading and prefer it to video games. I believed they would win science fairs and spelling bees. I believed that one day, they’d rise up and call me blessed and write songs about me and dedicate their Pulitzer-Prize-winning novels to me.

But after five years, the truth is becoming undeniable, and it must be spoken: My kids are just kids. They bicker in the backseat. They complain when asked to do chores that they’ve been asked to do ever since they could walk. They do just fine on their tests but their individual weaknesses are evident. They almost always choose TV over reading. They never skip merrily to their desks when it’s time for math. They HATE grammar and are indifferent to history. And I don’t see any hope that homeschooling them will change any of that.

Okay. That is the hard truth. There is more truth to be spoken about this, but frankly, it’s taken me many hours and an intimate relationship with the backspace key just to get these few nuggets. So I’m going to continue again tomorrow, because I don’t want to end here. Deep down, I still do think homeschooling is a good thing. Even if the initial infatuation is over.