Tag: homeschool memories

Homeschooling is about…

Tracy

Homeschooling is a very unique learning situation, a very special privilege. Because so much of my children’s lives involve them waiting their turn, waiting for Mommy and Daddy to minister, waiting for us to finish a conversation, waiting for church functions to end, etc., homeschooling is my special time to tell the world to wait.

I rarely answer the phone or check email, and I make an effort to let my children know that this is Mommy-time and that everyone else must wait their turn (except Daddy, of course). But there was one more way in which I wanted to be more intentional with my kids. Affection. Having them in my lap during reading time, holding their hands during chants and memory work, a hand on their back during handwriting—I’ve been trying to intentionally think of any way that I could physically remind them that I was focused on them.

holding hands

Middlest especially responds to this. She sits in my lap at every opportunity; she plays with my hands as she skip-counts by 5’s; she gives big hugs at every success. And one morning, as she came into the kitchen for her breakfast she said, “Mommy, do you know what my favorite part of Monday is? It’s about school.” When I couldn’t guess, she said, “Spending time with you!”

shaping hearts

Homeschooling isn’t as much about filling minds with knowledge as it is about shaping hearts.

Memories of a Homeschooled Homeschooler: the homeschool schedule

Tracy

I have memories of my mom surrounded by books and tons of paper in the corner of our home that was her “office.” Usually, she was either in the midst of taxes and bookkeeping or scheduling homeschool. We went through a lot of schedules during my homeschool years, and like any great master, Mom was always sure we could do something better or more efficiently. Tweak this subject here, add a little more time there, take out this activity and move it to that time slot. But we were kids, and school was—well—school, no matter where we did it. And I know we didn’t give her an easy time, in spite of her homeschool schedule overhauls. Because of all that scheduling though, we did have time for a lot of really unique experiences that have made for fond memories.

As little kids, we did four day school for a long time. So as early as second grade, I learned how to take five days worth of assignments and work to get it all done in four days. Each one of those four days, I’d work ahead one assignment in at least one subject until I’d earned my extra day off. We loved those three day weekends!

When we got older, working ahead was much harder to accomplish each week, but we still plotted out our assignments and worked ahead where we could for that end goal: to finish school as early in the year as possible. When other kids took extra holidays, spring breaks, and snow days (in Texas, snow days rarely had the same significance as they might in other states), we worked tirelessly, though sometimes reluctantly, toward that goal. And it paid off. We often had the bragging rights of the neighborhood, having finished all of our school books in mid April or early May while everyone else plodded along for another 4-6 more weeks.

In high school, Mom’s scheduling paid off significantly as she helped us plan our extra-curricular activities into our school day. My junior and senior year of high school, I had the opportunity to work part-time at our local newspaper office and have my own ballet studio where I gave lessons and planned performances.

Then, the real test came—college. All of Mom’s hours surrounded by stacks of books and loose paper finally culminated in one great overall success. After watching my mom plan scores upon scores of schedules through the years, my first freshman college schedule was a breeze. Seventeen years old and 12 hours from home, I remembered all those lessons of scheduling and planning and breaking down large tasks, lessons that my mom probably wasn’t always aware that she was teaching me.

And when I began to teach college English and writing classes, I was more often teaching my students how to schedule their time than I was tutoring them in the rudiments of grammar.

So for all of you homeschool moms who think you are “ruining” your children or their learning experience with all of your tweaks and overhauls to the homeschool schedule, take heart. Include your kids in the process. There’s some valuable learning going on behind those wadded up pieces of paper.

My Homeschool Memories—the When, Where, and How I was homeschooled

Tracy
My earliest homeschool memories are of doing school at the kitchen table, with a blue dish tub full of A Beka homeschool books, and my mom trying her best to mirror the experience we’d had in our private school setting. My younger sister schooled at the table with me, and my brother (six years older) did his work in his bedroom, away from our elementary noise. Kindergarten, second grade, and eighth grade was what my mother began with, back when homeschooling was much less defined and understood.
 
We said our pledge, sang choruses, memorized Bible verses, and practiced math speed drills with the same regularity I’d known in the classroom. And any time there was any deviation, I would remind my mother, “That’s not how Mrs. Bell did it.” But we grew and learned together. We turned from strictly A Beka to a mix of A Beka, Alpha Omega, and Bob Jones, and I welcomed Mom’s changes more graciously.
 
When I was twelve, we sold our house, moved to some acreage, and began living in a 40 ft. RV while Dad worked on building a new house. For two years, we did homeschool at the small table or back bedroom mattress of our RV. It was a true testament that learning can take place absolutely anywhere. And while other children assumed homeschooling meant that I had the privilege of going to school at 10 a.m. in my pajamas, it was far from our reality. At 5:30 every morning we were dressed and outside bottle-feeding our calves. I was finishing up with my other chores and heading inside for school as the local school bus flew down our dirt road with the other school-aged kids. But we were done with our school when our work was done, which was usually much sooner than the afternoon bus. We took our school on the road to dentist appointments, grocery trips, dance lessons, and homeschool co-op meetings. I learned to concentrate on an assignment through an assortment of chaos and learned to memorize a list of spelling words through any number of distractions.
 
When I was about fourteen, our house was finished enough to move in. Bare cement floors and walls without sheet rock were a very welcome change to our tiny home in the RV. My school space moved around through out a day from kitchen table, to bedroom vanity, to a desk inside a large walk-in book closet. Our curriculum changed yearly as well. For one, there were more options now. And, too, we knew when to identify when something just wasn’t working. My sister studied from one curriculum, I learned from a couple of others, and we made changes as necessary.
 
Overall, the greatest lesson I took from these homeschool memories was the fact that education is not a one-size fits all. Different lifestyles, patterns of life, and personalities all factor into the decisions of when, where, and even how of homeschooling. Now, as I launch out on my own journey, I’m more free with curriculum, I’m confident that I know my children best, and I know it really doesn’t matter where we pull out the books.
 
Learning is not a place or a textbook; it’s a process—a glorious, stressful, fun, terrifying, fabulous experience that teaches a family much more than math and history. It teaches us to make every memory a learning moment.