Can This Be Love? (aka Part 3)

So, here I am, six years into this relationship, sitting at the kitchen table, staring across at Mr. Homeschooling with his morning breath and the sinking realization that he does not have the power to make my dream of perfect children and a perfect life come true. What now?

As Dy observed, “None of us in the equation is perfect, but is it still the good stuff?” Indeed, that is the question for me: Is it still the good stuff?

Is it? Good stuff?

To get to the answer, I have to change my ideas of what good stuff is.

I’ve read, over and over again, that when you hit the skids with homeschooling, the cure involves going back to your original vision, your reasons for starting in the first place, your core goals. I think now, though, what I need is a fresh vision. If my original vision – not the one I told everybody about, but the darker, more control-freak one about raising perfect children – is The Impossible Dream, then it must be replaced. With a vision that is still inspiring, but grounded in reality.

So what’s the reality in MY homeschool? And more importantly, what’s good here, in my opinion? When I strip away the preconceived notions of what “should” be good, or what others consider good, what do I think is worth pursuing, worth striving for? What are the rewards that really do motivate me, ones that are achievable?

What do I love about homeschooling?

For one thing, I love the freedom. I love scheduling vacations in the off-season and working our schoolwork around our own priorities. I love getting to choose what field trips we think are worthy and avoiding those that are a waste of time. I love exposing my kids to good art and music and literature. I love that our curriculum is built around really good books. And I can teach in a way that they can learn.

For another thing, I love being there to see my kids “get it.” I’ll never forget the day that one son finally understood the concept of carrying and borrowing. It really was just like a little visible lightbulb went off over his head… you could see the understanding in his eyes. It was awesome. And even now, being out somewhere with my baby girl when she stops and says, “Mom, I can read that! It says “Big Lots!” These are moments directly connected to all the boring, tedious lessons that have gone before, the times when I didn’t feel like setting aside all the other stuff I needed to do but I did it anyway, made school a priority.

And, for better or for worse, I love knowing my own kids. I love that I know their strengths and weaknesses, intimately. Yes, a lot of the time I am annoyed that I have to be the one to deal with their “stuff,” but when I stop and think about the big picture, I am glad that they are home and we are dealing with it. In spite of our struggles, I still feel like dh and I have their hearts… they trust us, and not some teacher or system or group of friends, to look out for their best interests. And we do. And they have good relationships with each other. They are learning how to build their own families by developing relationship skills right here at home, where relationships are a priority and kindness is required.

Freedom. Understanding. Connection. That’s our new school motto. Out with perfection, in with what really works.

(Mr. Homeschooling is reaching across the table and taking my hand in his own. It’s strong and solid and warm. This could be the start of something beautiful.)