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This is Not Homeschool. This is Survival School.

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Deciding to homeschool your kids is a huge decision. You think about what curriculum will work best for your kids and for your teaching style. You research. You talk to other people about it. If you have kids with medical or education or social skills needs or behavioral challenges, you think about your ability to meet those needs at home vs. the services they could receive through the school system. You rearrange your work schedules or other activities to make it work for your family. You pick socialization options to keep your kids involved in the things they’re passionate about– music, art, dance, sports, debate, drama, etc. You delegate what you don’t feel competent to teach to the local co-op or public or private school.

Many of us thought through all those variables and we decided homeschooling was not for us.

And yet, here we are.

Which is why I think it’s important we remind ourselves that this is NOT homeschool. This is about facilitating the education of our kids while we’re riding out an unprecedented global health crisis. This is Survival School.

We now have some things in common with our homeschooling friends. We’re all experiencing the education of our kids at home. We are involved in the process to varying degrees. We’re all at home most hours of the day as we figure out how to be the teacher, janitor, lunch lady, occupational therapist, counselor, IT person, etc. But for many of us, that’s where the comparison stops.

I’m not picking or planning curriculum. I’m hoping to supervise what their teachers have decided they need to work on to finish out their year. I’m also continuing to work a job, as are many parents who picked an option other than homeschooling because we need to work to feed our families. I can primarily work from home which is a huge blessing, but also now means I have to figure out the dynamics of working alongside a bunch of “coworkers” who are intent on derailing whatever I’m trying to accomplish via questions, requests for snacks, and crying outbursts– not typical coworker behavior I’ve experienced before.

So I’m giving myself a TON of grace. We are trying to survive. We want to maintain the level of academic proficiency they need for this year. I’m not trying to build dioramas, teach them latin, or decide now is the moment to expose them to all the classic literature I think human beings should know.

But more importantly, I’m trying to keep them peaceful. I’m working on my self-regulation skills so I don’t stress them out with my own worries. I’m teaching them joy even when your plans don’t go the way you wanted and you miss out on the things you were looking forward to. I’m teaching them to fight fear with love by choosing to self-isolate because we want to protect people we care about, even if we would be fine if we got sick. I’m teaching them that mom is a person too with needs for quiet, needs for adult interaction, needs for time to work to support our family, and needs for help when it comes to managing our home.

On a practical level, I’m giving my kids nurture and structure. We have schedules posted that help them see the anticipated flow of their day. We’re spending a lot of intentional family time together. I’ve thrown out a lot of my expectations. I have homeschooled before. When we worked at the group home we homeschooled those kids and there were things I loved about that and things that were challenging. I know I can do this, but I also know “this” looks very different when you’re balancing parenting and work and school and NOT FREAKING OUT ABOUT EVERYBODY GETTING SICK.

If you’re panicking a little about how to make this all work, just know that it’s okay. It may not “work” the way you want it to. Just survive. Everybody else’s kids may be peacefully working on their computers or making art projects or learning how to do tree identification in the woods and yours are screaming about who took all the blankets they needed for the pillow fort. It’s okay. Give them grace. Give yourself grace.

Take a minute to identify your actual priorities in making it through this process. Create a schedule that reflects that. Build in some time for self-care (I took an unnecessarily long walk with the dogs and a podcast after dinner last night). Realize that even if your kids lose some academic momentum, let’s prioritize character and calm.

Moms who have been homeschooling for forever, maybe take it easy with the advice and just go with encouragement for a minute. We aren’t trying to do what you do, as much as we admire what you do. Adding those expectations on top of us could be a little soul crushing in this moment. Let us know that you’re here if we need you, but also remind us that some days you get just about nothing done, think about moving to Tahiti, and crawl into bed with a sleeve of Oreos as your only comfort. That might be the normalizing we need about now.

Last night (after our first day of Survival School) my daughter gave me a hug and declared it her “best day ever.” I don’t think every day will be like that, but I think we have an opportunity to create a moment in our children’s histories where they’ll look back and say, “Remember when we were all stuck inside together and we played games and laughed and made puppet shows and learned how to bake cookies? That was the best.” Let’s begin with the end in mind. Let’s start with that memory we want to create and work backwards to make it happen.

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