There are many things that I do because my children aren't sitting in a traditional classroom in a traditional school. Some are awesome (like asking one of the kids to prepare dinner and then walking away), some are survival instincts (like locking my bedroom door when I'm on the phone). There are also many things I don't do because my kid aren't in a traditional classroom. Some I don't miss at all (like sitting in school traffic). Others... Well, that's kind of what this post is about.
Whether you're a homeschooler or not, there are some conversations that I long to have with all my heart, but I'm held back by the things I don't want to tell you. Except today I'm putting it out there so if others are feeling this way and also don't know how to explain to anyone, maybe you'll feel a teeny tiny bit of support from across cyber space.
1) I don't want to tell you I feel utterly inadequate. Almost. Every. Day.
I don't make it to Mums-only evenings very often and I'm wary of having this conversation with my kids around (remember, they're pretty much there 24/7). I remember what I used to do at school. And my kids aren't doing it. Mostly it's because we don't want them to, but as the days, months and years slip away, I start to wonder if my kids should be churning out reams of (pointless) writing like I used to. Am I too easy on them? Am I too hard on them? Do we do enough academics? Do I give them enough individual attention? The list of questions goes on. And on. And on. But if I tell you this, you might politely suggest (you'll say it with your face, even if you don't with your words) that I could just send my children to the professionals. And there is no tactful way to answer that. What I think of the current education system is becoming less and less... tolerant. I'm pretty sure you'll be offended if I respond truthfully, because deep down I probably think you're kids shouldn't be in the system either.
2) I don't want to tell you I feel overwhelmed.
The pressure of being fully responsible for the well being of five other humans beings, day in and day out can be brutal. When I really tackle those feelings honestly, I realize that part of this is pride and arrogance. God's grace covers a multitude of my sins, mistakes and inadequacies. For which I'm eternally grateful. But once in a while I would like to have a "normal" conversation about this feeling of being overwhelmed. However, you may be tempted again to give that "obvious" answer (send them to school), and I may offend in response.
3) I don't want to tell you I'm exhausted.
If your kids go to school, you may not realize just how much work five kids being at home every day is. They go to the toilet here. Not at school. They sharpen their pencils here. Not at school. All our learning resources are here. Not at school. And I don't have a janitor. Like a school does. Thankfully, our girls do a lot around the house. They are pretty good at cleaning up after themselves. But sometimes, when Poppy needs help with her Maths, and Ivy with her piano practice, Cinnamon wants to show me where she's up to in her book, Pepper needs to use the toilet and Marigold is already in there... Yep. I'm exhausted. But I don't want to tell you, because you can't possibly understand why I would choose to do this to myself... After all, if I just sent the kids to school...
4) I don't want to tell you I'm lonely.
Because I have people all around me all day every day. We're building awesome family relationships. How can I possibly feel so desperately lonely? I don't want to tell you because you're probably thinking if it's so hard, well, I should just stop. But I'm not going to stop unless God brings me to that point. And so I'm lonely, because for the most part, I'm doing this alone. I've got some awesome encouraging friends who I love and appreciate more than I can express. But the opportunities to deeply connect with them in the midst of everything else are extremely rare. Connecting with other adults while on this parenting/homeschooling journey is difficult in ways I can't even begin to express in words. And so I just don't want to tell you about it.
And yet, for all those hard bits, I am truly, awesomely thankful that I get to take this amazing journey through life with the Raamonster and our five little flowers (although some of them are getting so big now, they're practically going to seed :)). There is a lot of hard. But I'm pretty sure I've said before, hard is not bad. It's just hard. The feelings of inadequacy and overwhelmth and exhaustion and loneliness are all opportunities for growth. I'm trying to make sure that I actually grow, by the grace of God.
