I never intended to homeschool four kids. When I was pregnant with my first child, I thought I’d give birth, put him in daycare and continue developing my career as a journalist. It was an adventurous life I imagined—one filled with travel and writing, and two kids at the most. I envisioned international schools, and lots of art, culture and music.
But when Max was born, everything in my being called to me to be home with him. Luckily at that time I was able to work out a work-from-home situation with my employer that helped me feel a sense of balance. But when he started kindergarten, everything changed. I had quit work to follow my husband to Miami, found out I was pregnant for the third time, and unintentionally began life as a stay-home mom. I got Max enrolled in the local kinder, but things just didn’t gel that year.
The baby inevitably fell asleep just as it was time to leave home to pick Max up from school. Tending to a newborn resulted in three-year-old Maya getting plopped in front of the TV for way too many hours each day. I remember those days as a haze of sitting in a long line of cars with an infant screaming in his car seat, a three-year-old stressed by the screaming, and me ineffectively singing to try to calm kids (or drown out the crying). The final straw came when Max couldn’t earn the end-of-week reward—ever!—because he fidgeted too much during phonics lessons (which he was not allowed to opt out of despite already being able to read chapter books). His teacher called me in to way too many conferences to discuss the fact that he should be recommended for gifted classes; but she wouldn’t do it because he couldn’t sit still through phonics lessons he already mastered, especially after his class had been kept in from recess to catch up on their math. And no, she wouldn’t let him read quietly on his own. He had to do what the rest of the class was doing.
At another time, with older children and a better sleep schedule, I might have been a better advocate for my child. I might have made that school work for him, helped him get what he needed and helped make school successful for him. I admire the parents who do that. But I didn’t have the resources for it at that point in time. And all my brain kept screaming to me was, “get out!”
So I did. I got us all out of that rut. I pulled Max out of school, thinking I’d homeschool him for the rest of the year and try again in first grade. And after reading about classical education, I began to try daily lessons.
Those petered out after about a month, though, as I watched Max and Maya head out to the backyard every morning and spend hours exploring their environment. They located insects, took pictures, asked me a million questions about them. They planted seeds. They climbed trees and rode bicycles. They found my video camera and made short videos about things that interested them. And I went back to the drawing board and began to research different methods of homeschooling and how children learn best.
Meanwhile, our family life improved dramatically. Maya was no longer sat in front of the TV for hours on end, Max stopped believing he was a “problem kid” and Sam got his naps and feedings when he needed them. And I got sleep! Not at night so much (I had a newborn after all) but several short naps with the baby throughout the day allowed me to function again.
I began to be able to focus on the things that mattered to my family: cooking meals that nourished us, figuring out how to guide my kids’ education, finding community among people who lived like we did.
And so began a lifestyle that would take us on unexpected adventures, allow us the flexibility to move overseas, and that ultimately gave my children an education and life experience that would have never been possible if my original life plan had worked out as planned.