It seems as though February is the month every year that it happens. Fall has come and gone, the excitement of beginning the school year is diminished, winter is dragging on... and then it happens: we hit the metaphorical wall. Every. Single Year.
I've been a homeschool mom for nearly twelve years now, and every year I notice a similar pattern. It's like an educational roller coaster of sorts, and everyone collectively wants off the ride by February. The loopty-loops are simply no longer fun. I get it. I totally do. And I have a theory: THIS is why schools make all that hype about the 100th day of school; why they have parties and cake and celebrations...teachers and students alike have also hit this wall. Their partying is the best attempt at busting through it. Or distracting from it. Which sadly gives me some peace about this wall; having the reassurance that it's not just a homeschool thing. It's nearly a national crisis, turns out. Kids just want to be done. And so do their teachers. (For the most part. The exceptions to the rule tend to either A. know something I don't...or B. be meta-human teachers. And if "B" is the case...I want in on that. I'll drink magical juice if necessary.)
In my feeble attempts at climbing over this wall, I ultimately decided to do something big...something completely uncharacteristic of myself....I decided to call it quits on some current curriculum and shake things up a bit. ('Cause sometimes life needs some shaking up every now and again. You know...in case it's not chaotic enough in just the everyday "mundane" with five children and a ark-load of animals....) And by "shaking things up", I do mean searching for new curriculum. (I know...wild and crazy. It's how I roll.) In my quest for serenity for myself and to make peace with my increasingly agitated students, I sought out advice from my homeschool adviser. A mom whom has not only survived this roller coaster ride with her own children, but lived to tell of just how much she enjoyed it AND willingly chooses to walk alongside and hold up those that are presently in the middle of the journey. (Note to self: When I grow up, not only do I want to be a photographer, but now I also want to be a homeschool activist/encourager...Lord knows homeschoolers need all the help they can get. It takes a homsechool village.) As I poured through her lending library of student books and readers, I picked her brain about the logisticals of what "school" ought to look like. While I originally came in hopes for educational materials for my children, I left with so, so much more. It's crazy, the thought hadn't even occurred to me how carefully I place this homeschooling gig in a box. As though one-size fits-all, and if it doesn't...it's my responsibility to conform my students so that it does. The truth couldn't lay any more in plain view: I'm raising five distinct children, each with their own learning paces, styles and preferences. Why I fight so hard against this truth is simply beyond me. And this fighting...this is where I come face to face with that wall. This is where my kids no longer want to learn, and where I no longer want to teach. Which is insanely crazy, because I wholeheartedly am passionate about why we chose this lifestyle we did in the very first place. (It in fact is a "lifestyle". My adviser told me so.) I enthusiastically love that I'm able to show my children life and the world around them. While some days are crazy and leave me feeling absolutely and totally wasted...I wouldn't trade it all for the world. The problem with the wall doesn't have to do with them and their lackluster for learning; it has everything to do with me. With how I'm choosing to approach this lifestyle. I can choose to stress about structure, formality and constant comparison with how the "regular" schools do things, or I can simply walk it. Go with the flow. Lead them to a love for learning, and then let them drink as deep as their little hearts desire. I think many of us homeschooling parents have a preconceived notion that school at home must look as similar to formal schooling. Perhaps it's the insecurity within us that drives us to such (often) painful lengths; so that if anyone should question our choice, we can assure them of how well we're keeping up with how most of their peers are doing. But in truth...it's not a comparison game. Schooling at home is unique and contains its own challenges and privileges. There is no comparison. It's not about which contender can produce "more successful" people. ("Successful" is a very interpretive definition, anyhow....don't even get me started on that soap box...) No, homeschooling, to me, is about being gifted time to study my children; while teaching them to love learning. (If that makes any sense.) Something that I've been failing miserably at lately...if there were grades for homeschool parents. Big, fat "F".
After weeks of frustration from my eldest about her less-than-appealing history lessons, she obtained a historical piece of literature on the life of President Kennedy. Last night I stood back and watched as she devoured this book from page to page. When she verbally voiced to me her new-found knowledge of this particular period in history, it occurred to me: This is what I've been missing. The bait. Something that tempted her interest. And once she was hooked, she kept coming back for more. Like an addict. THIS. This is where it's at. This is the kind of learning that sinks in, retains, and leaves them hungry for more. Not the kind that she can regurgitate back on a test within two days and eventually erase from her memory forever.
So, we're shaking things up a bit. Going a little more freestyle. For the love of learning. And it leaves me with renewed hope: We may just make it through high school. (And who knows? Maybe they'll learn a thing or two along the way...) Here's to crashin' through those walls!
*Trisha...thank you for all you do for those of us that choose this lifestyle. For the support, the encouragement. For the wisdom, for ALL the work, and even the humor found in the thick of it. In approximately one half-hour with you I was able to soak in, digest, assess and finally rest. Homeschool parents need a safe haven to retreat to every now and again, and also a place to re-nourish their frazzled souls. You were that place for me today!

Be sure to give us an update on how it is going!
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