(Insert dramatic pause and proud grin)
On Thursday afternoon, when we waddle back home from Grandma’s house, bellies full of tradition and tryptophan, Larry S. Longbottom, our Elf on the Shelf, will have magically returned from his year long vacation and the boys will start telling him all of their Christmas wishes. Jeremy and I will probably nap on and off for a few hours and watch football until it’s time for my movie date. Brodie will eat too much pie and Logan will eat too much everything. Elizabeth probably won’t eat much but it won’t be from lack of trying. She’ll have mashed potatoes in her hair and stuffing in her lap. Grandma will probably feed her a few bites of pie and I won’t even care because she’s my third kid and I just don’t have time to worry about such things anymore.
At some point during the long weekend, I’ll force my kids to watch corny, stop-animation Christmas movies and Jeremy will pretend to be excited, too, even though we both know he’ll fall asleep before the beginning credits finish. Jeremy and I will both say we’re going to do some organizing, some laundry, try to catch up on paperwork and housework. We probably won’t do any of that but it makes us feel better to pretend like we’re going to. We’ll both try and figure out how the hell it got to be December already and laugh because we both swore last year that we were not going to let the holidays sneak up on us again.
We’ll probably pull out the kids’ Christmas tree because I’m a big fan of making Christmas an experience and like to stretch it out as long as I can. They’ll arrange and re-arrange their ornaments until one gets broken and then we’ll start the yearly tradition of trying to keep as many Christmas decorations in tact as possible.
This week will look the same as it would any other year. Some old traditions will continue. Some new ones will be created. It will be a long weekend and a chance to recharge before Christmas hits us at full speed.
The difference will come on Monday morning when Logan doesn’t return to school.
He will still be receiving an education. A full, well-rounded education that will engage him and his many talents and interests. He will still have plenty to do, plenty to see, plenty to learn. It’s just that he’ll be doing and seeing and learning outside of the traditional classroom.
We’ve made the decision to homeschool him.
(Insert dramatic pause and scared shitless grin)
I’ve tried really hard to take their comments with a grain of salt, especially because I expected them. Homeschooling is not a common thing in the world I live in and most people simply don’t know much about it. They know how that one kid from that one family turned out and so, like anything else they don’t understand, they approach it with fear.
Fear for me. Fear for Logan.
Fear that I’m going to let him fall behind or turn out ‘weird’ or that he’s going to lack structure and discipline and social skills. Fear that I’m not going to be able to teach him math or keep a regular, 8-3 schedule when I have two other small children at home.
There really are worse things in the world than to have a bunch of people who worry about you and your kid.
Today, this week, I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for people who worry. It means there are people who care. I’m grateful for people who question my decisions. It means that they have a vested interested in my child. I’m grateful for people who are cheering us on. It means that they believe I trust my gut and am making the best decision for my child.
And I’m thankful for this blog. This place gives me the opportunity to share my journey with you. It gives me a chance to share my experience, my strength, my hope. Not a How-To Homeschool blog, there are plenty of those out there, but woven inside all of the regular stories I tell about my family, about my life, about my observations and incidents, there will now also be homeschooling adventures and triumps, failures and blunders, humorous and educational tales of a regular mom, with three regular kids, who works a regular job waiting tables to keep food on her own.
A mom who decided that the option to continue to send her oldest son to public school was just that.
And not the best one for right now.
Happy Day before Thanksgiving, Friends.
go. do. be.