In the Beginning

 Let’s backtrack a bit:

Miss K had already completed two full years of preschool and loved every second of it.  Homeschooling had never been anywhere even close to my radar. 

My mom had homeschooled my brother on and off which I thought was the worst decision she could have made at the time.  I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why she would take an already socially awkward child out of the only establishment in which a child can be taught proper socialization.  No other life circumstances could possibly shape a young person into a well adapted, personable, and intellectual being.  He needed to learn about the real world.  What was my mother thinking?  (**We found out later that he has high functioning autism.)

I’ve learned a tremendous amount about the error of my thinking ways… just fyi.

It wasn’t until I had already put my daughter’s name into a lottery for a charter school, and, just in case she didn’t get in, had gone to sign her up for the local public school.  As I was walking out of the same doors I used to use as a child to leave the same building I was humiliated and belittled in, I had overwhelmingly sick feeling.  I didn’t want my little girl to go through the same things I had to endure as a child at that great big school. 

While my reasons and methods for homeschooling have evolved and changed over the years, this is where it all began.

I tried to push the feelings aside.  She would be fine.  People do it all the time.  I reasoned… She needed to know how to stand up for herself; how to make a decision and stand on her own two feet. That’s what you do… you send your kids to school.  But no matter how hard I tried to push the nagging feelings aside, they just didn’t seem to subside.  Not even a little bit.  But I still had hope she might make it into the charter school. 

A very short time later we got the news that she didn’t.  At that point I was very disheartened.  I knew that the public school wasn’t the answer, but what was I supposed to do?  I couldn’t force the charter school to accept her. 

That week I went to the library.  I don’t remember if I intentionally sought out the homeschooling section or if I just stumbled upon it.  I only remember the homeschooling books staring down at me from a shelf just above eye level.  They seemed to be smiling contentedly at me as if they knew my homeschooling destiny.  I quickly yanked most of the books from the shelf (it was a small section) and cautiously walked to the… checkout?  Is that what it’s called?  I worried that I might run into someone I knew. 

We couldn’t have that, now could we?  What would said person think of me? 

I was almost ashamed to be carrying those books.  I scanned each one and got out of dodge. 

Of course once I was home, with no danger of anyone seeing what I had in my possession, I devoured each and every one of those books.  Suddenly, I was desiring to homeschool my hoodlums and I hadn’t any clue how to go about telling Anthony. 

Long story short (VERY short)… He was up on a ladder in the backyard, I mentioned homeschooling, I got the are-you-freaking-kidding-me look of death, I promised to do more research before committing, we prayed, and here we are. 

Super condensed version of telling Miss K… She cried, wanted to ride the bus (wouldn’t have anyway since the school is right down the street), finally came to terms with the idea, and here we are.  :)

The next couple posts will cover how we finally came to a final decision to homeschool and the books/methods that resonated with us. 

And just because I think every post deserves a picture, here are my hoodlums all covered in purple chalk dust and corn starch.  I think it displays each of their personalities perfectly!