I jumped into the murky homeschool waters like I do all challenges I’ve decided are noble and/or necessary—with the adventurous spirit of Huck Finn. My binocular scope seems rosy-lensed in retrospect. “If those moms with nine kids, color-coded lesson plans, and daily menus can find it within themselves to personalize curriculum and still find time to milk their little goatherd and make soap in their spare time, I can surely homeschool 3rd, 5th, and 7th graders for two years!” My mantra was adopted from the little praise jingle…Oh yes I will. Yeeess…I will! (Too bad the rest of the words of surrender were not entertained at that time. But, they would come.)
I ambitiously started pinning cool (I guess they say “sick” these days) science projects. Pinterest has the sickest art ideas that got pinned too. And organizational inspiration for my school space. And school began.
Now is probably my cue to let you know this was not mandated keep your kids at home because of the pandemic of Covid-19. Nope. It was 3 years ago that my 39 year-old realtor husband decided to chase a long time dream of his. He would go to college—not back to college—but with the assistance of a tutor, he would go way, way back to multiplying fractions, and learn the essentials he missed in high school. Then, and only then, he would enter a college campus for the first time in his life. I’m all about pursuing your dreams and the necessary sacrifice if your dreams are fundamental to your purpose. And that’s how my children happened to be educated for 8 years at a great private school…to being a project of attempted academic, social, emotional, and spiritual growth by one little large-headed lady. My tune went from the energetic, suitcase-swinging of “I have con.fi.dence in CON.FI.DENCE AAALONE” of a petite ex-nun in The Sound of Music to the sorrowful wail of “I’ve got friends in low places…”
Ok. Not quite. My friends were still great and encouraging…but there was yelling. There were locked bedroom doors and British Drama binges and warnings to stay away as the Spanish dialogue enthralled me. I mean, I don’t know Spanish, but that was all that was left in my genre. Desperate times really and truly do equal desperate measures. It wasn’t whiskey I reverted to, like in the country songs, but it wasn’t good. There was even some all out sobbing behind those doors as I accepted that I. Can. Not. Do. This.
I chose a challenging, but well-respected video curriculum for my 7th grader as I felt she needed the constant verbal and visual instruction. I chose a cyber school for my advanced, self-motivated 5th grader, and a mixed plan for my hands-on 3rd grader that had some issues focusing on any squirrel or leaf outside a window that caught his attention. I felt confident that I could quite easily guide a 3rd grader. The eldest was an artistic, color outside-the-lines personality that despised the droning voices of video teachers, and the tech-challenged mom couldn’t begin to understand the cyber program to save her life or sanity. The 3rd grader was so needy of my attention and trespassed my personal space circle all day long. I was the only income earner (working after school and weekends), helping my husband with homework after his school day, and running the house. I was supporting all six of us financially and emotionally and barely surviving.
Fast forward three years later: The adult graduate is a Paramedic and loves his job with the exception that few seem to realize the jeopardy that is being placed on available medical care during this pandemic. The protocol for exposure to the virus will be an isolated 14-day quarantine. This means one patient without forewarning of symptoms can (and has) placed every EMS worker, nurse, Dr, and surgeon within relative contact that day of exposure is effectively be wiped off the schedule for two full weeks. As a wife of a medical worker, that stresses me out for him! That’s not the crazy news. I am still schooling my kids at home. Our intentions were to have our kids return to the private school after his graduation, but they are still here. Other than the fact that we can’t presently socialize outside our home, cyber classes continue as before.
Girl, this is why I want to talk to you. I have a message for the me of three years ago that might encourage you to not repeat some of the hard-learned mistakes I made when I jumped in those homeschool waters all fool-hardy. There were leeches in there that my rose colored glasses camouflaged. I had no Huck Finn raft, you know?
This is for all the adults with kids at home instead of school. I’m pushing a raft your way. It’ll keep your head above water. You can do this, and you can do it better than I did.
1. Lower thine expectations. Right now stop those Instagram searches of lifestyle posts the cookie-making counters have no crumbs or sprinkles. Sally wiped them all up. Stop watching those silly videos where they show you the “before mess”—a few toys on the floor. Fake vulnerability. Your washcloths are about to get folded with the creases all unaligned and you just need to say, “Thank you, Sweetheart. You are so helpful!” In 24 hrs you get to fold them again.
2. Stop trying to get them ready for an Ivy League school in the few months they’re home. Any academic loss will not permanently disable a student that works hard. If you want to teach them anything other than what their teachers require, teach them perseverance and the characters you will quickly see are lacking. (Oh, yes you will.) Don’t hold off on those issues and make the teachers deal with it later. They’re the fruit of your loins—not those of Mr. Smith and Mrs. Jones.
3. Don’t compare your child with siblings or another child. Your voice (maybe your memes suggesting that they are driving you up a wall and down a cliff) becomes their inner voice. I learned that this destructive habit of criticism I hoped would be constructive, never was. Instead, affirming the good and blessing our kids produces a desire to become what they believe we see. If you need reminders…Post Its. Accept Calgon’s offer to “Take me away” before addressing your child when you’re in over your head. Before addressing your child, always pray for wisdom to see deeper than the surface action or reaction of the behavior.
4. Listen. “Look at my face, Mom!” I hear that and I know my child knows that when our eyes are on a phone, distracted by the news, and deep in thought, he knows I will really hear him if I’m looking at his face. More than anything, the silver lining in all of this chaos and time spent in close quarantined quarters is that we get the gift of getting to really know our kids again. To know is to listen.
5. Above all, through it all, and over all…it’s more than okay to admit you can’t do this without help. Surrendering our deception of self-empowerment and letting our kids see our humility and dependence on a Higher Power is essential to reflecting faith to them. They become gentle creatures of love and support when the harsh and critical demands crumble into heaps of God-dependent requests.
Blessing your every day opportunities to be a purposeful parent—now and always.
Cheryl Peachey