Having grown up in the homeschool community, the kids had the flexibility a more regimented schedule would not allow as we helped to care for our neighbor, my 92yr old grandmother after her fall that hot summer day. And care we did. The majority of our daytime hours were spent working through some type of math, literature, or history curriculum while tears and fear of the reality we were facing taunted every lesson, every problem that had been worked through, laced every new concept. Sometime between 2pm and 4pm I would put my rubber boots on and walk the well traveled trail to grandma's to take up my shift for the day. There were days the kids would go with me but most days they were mandated to finish their schoolwork before joining me. Crockpot meals, dinner provided by momma and daddy's Sunday School class and the newly developed skills of our 19 year old were our new norm.
Rarely would I be home before midnight and time together as a family during this time was virtually non existant. The kids, with help from their dad who had worked a 12hr shift, were expected to not only perform daily and evening routines largely alone - they were expected to excel at them - without a goodnight or "good job" from mom. They did fabulous though - as much as a 15, 13 and 9yr old can do. I would tell them during the day I was proud but then routine had to begin. It HAD to.
Our children grew a lot that fall. We were bumping along just fine, or so I thought. Until one morning, just two weeks before gma would pass, as I sat across the table at McDonald's sharing with my friend at our normal "tea time" date while the kids were all at co-op. I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. (Poor Susan! She was so very patient and loving with me during all of that!! 💕) I was exhausted. My kids were exhausted. We were reaching the end of the hardest leg of this new journey that none of us wanted to take. Gma was slipping away from us right before our eyes and we were still learning about the civil war and integers and codyledons. I just wanted to enjoy these last few days and hours. That's when she asked, "So why don't you?" Also a seasoned homeschool mom, Susan was the voice in the darkness that God used to remind me why we made the choice that we did to homeschool in the first place. She reminded me that we serve a God who can, and will, "repay all that the locusts have eaten". (See Joel 2 for some really fabulous encouragement)
After repeating the mantra "No regrets" every afternoon to the kids, we FINALLY lived it from that day on. Textbooks were put away. Pencils only drew pretty pictures that would adorn Gigi's room. Now the kids spent every waking moment they could WITH me at great grandma's house, where they had all found such great comfort throughout their young lives.
It was the best two weeks of that entire journey. Though we were saying goodbye to one of the people we loved most in the entire world, there was an indescribable peace. There was laughter again. Fears dissipated. Tears of sorrow were now coupled with a certain reassurance that I had not been able to remind them of in my absence, both physical and mental.
I share this today, not to brag about our wonderful, amazing, fabulous, one of a kind kids. I share this today to encourage you to just STOP.
Stop sitting your kids at the table to do worksheets. That's not how homeschool works - take it from someone who learned the hard way. Life is learning. The largest lessons our kids learned that fall were not taught out of a book or contained in any curriculum.
Stop attempting to teach new concepts in academics. THEY AREN'T GOING TO RETAIN THEM RIGHT NOW ANYWAY. Their psyche won't let them.
Stop attempting to maintain a rigid schedule when kids' emotions don't have clocks to tell them when it's an appropriate time to be afraid or sad or angry. Be in the moment WITH them.
Stop feeding the fear and anxiety your kids have about this virus. Our own daughter had it like 3xs this week, she was sure! (Our daughter - who has been on spring break for two weeks with no physical contact outside the five of us and has been on allergy medicine since she was 9mths old...)
Stop not living life. Go outside! Make small goals and work toward them. Start having fun again! Life is learning.
Stop attempting to go on like normal. This is NOT normal. Let your kids know that. Let them see your frustration and how you are coping with it to help them know their feelings are ok. Let them know that you can just be together without having to check things off of a list.
That fall our kids had a fundamental change in their psyche. Our daughter will tell you that was the fall she grew up, at 9yrs old. And after learning how to make coffee, properly trim wisteria, help someone to the restroom, change sheets with someone still in the bed, love to the very last breath - I would tell you that she's partly right. This time around, in this new not normal that none of us asked for, I refuse to push her, or our boys, into growing up any faster than they should already.
This time we are living with no regrets on the top side. This time we are creating our own temporary new normal. This time I will steady them as the locusts continue to strip away at what has been planted. This time I will be 100% present and with them. Because that's what our kids really need right now.
Pic: Our daughter, learning to cross stitch the week after saying goodbye to her Gigi. It is a skill that her Gigi taught me.
