Deciding Not to Homeschool (long, sorry)

Have you ever been to a restaurant with a menu so extensive that there are multiple pages and maybe even a table of contents? Or a buffet which offers everything from surf and turf to Chinese to pizza to Beef Stroganoff and everything in between? Do you know what is usually true about these places? They dabble in so many offerings and varieties that they don't do any of it really well. How is the steak at these places? It's ho hum. How about their pizza? Same.  You want a good burger? You probably don't order it here. No, you should go to a restaurant that specializes in burgers. And for pity's sake, don't go to a Burgers-and-Fries restaurant and order a salad; you'll be disappointed for sure!  Wilted iceberg, mealy tomatoes, and some anemic cucumber slices, anyone? 

Where am I going with this? 

Well, in a lot of ways I was that restaurant these last two years; specializing in so many things that I wasn't doing any of them well. Cooking, cleaning, trying to be a good wife, taking care of Eden (who was first in the needy infant stage, then in the dump-everything-out-just-because stage, then in the potty-training stage, and most recently in the play-with-me stage AND developing a formidable bossy side) while attempting to teach Seth (whom we discovered to have dyslexia and who approached school as though it were liver and onions), and trying to keep on top of Noah's ever-expanding middle school requirements and ensuing drama (and I'm not talking about the theatre kind), ... it was overwhelming, but not in a good way. There's an "overwhelming" which shows you your dependency on Jesus and leaves everyone stronger in the end, and then there's "overwhelming" that's just not a good situation for anyone.

We barely made it through the year where I had a sixth grader, kindergartener, and a loose cannon. It was horrendous, but I thought it was required of me. I sheepishly assumed that because we had once decided to homeschool, that we had to stick with it til death do us part. Sort of the idea that if it was God's will at one point, it must be so now. So I took a deep breath, attended the homeschool convention in Orlando that spring, read a couple of motivational homeschooling books, patted myself on the back, prayed, and geared up for another year.

Only it was even worse.

Homeschooling days that next year left me in a numb funk. I was feeling the hopeless Ecclesiastes-ness of it all, and would frequently moan under my breath, "I hate my life." I cried often. I was finding it necessary to, as I call it, "sit on" my kids about everything. E.Ver.Y.Thing.  From waking up to piano lesson practice to each and every chore requirement to school assignments and even whether they played their class lesson video on regular speed or warp speed, I had to be present and remind and warn and enforce every jot and tittle of everything I expected for all three of them. It was exhausting, and I had become this stressed-out, intense, harping, nag of a mom/teacher that was sapping the life out of our family. There are lots of homeschool moms who manage their children so well that chores and lessons are done by lunchtime, and then there's time to read aloud or go to the park, and everyone gets along so well... but that was not us. We were barely making it. We had zero leftover time or energy for anything extra or fun. We eventually quit piano lessons. We wrestled with "When is something just uncomfortable and intended to help you trust the Lord more and when is it a goad intended to steer you another direction?" Homeschooling had served us well and we had really enjoyed it in the early years, but it was time to move on.

Once I realized that I didn't have to be married to our decision to homeschool, and that the Bible allows for freedom in schooling options (Eureka!), I began to see a glimmer of hope. I began, for the first time in two years, to be excited about what my relationship with my kids could be, instead of grieving over what it had become. 

I researched schools with excitement, and found a few options that looked suitable. We began praying about those options and applying at the schools. We found a school 10 mins away for Seth, which is entirely for students with dyslexia. The teachers teach differently, they know what to expect and how to handle the differences, and that was perfect. We found a Christian school 5 mins away for Noah that meets Monday thru Wednesday, and then assigns work to be done at home on Thursday and Friday. This was perfect for Noah's situation, because Josh likes to take Noah to work with him on Fridays (he's done that for several years), and this school enables that. And Eden! She's with me, happily soaking up some belated undivided attention as we play together and learn the Letter of the Week.

So now I drop my boys off at school in the morning, and pick them up in the afternoon. It is wonderful, it really is, to be freed from some of that burden! I'm so thankful we homeschooled for a time (we loved it!), and now I'm so thankful we don't. To everything there is a season. Amen.