In conversations around me, the criticisms of public schools are rampant. I have friends who are dedicated to home-schooling, and while I sip my sparkling water, reveling in a brief moment of quiet, I can’t help but feel a twinge of self-doubt.
This morning, my partner worked through the night, leaving me in charge of getting the kids ready for school. It was a chaotic scene: “Ella, put on your shoes! Ella, don’t forget to fix your hair! Ella! Is that a booger in your bangs? You’re 10; why am I doing your shoes? Max, finish your toast! No, you can’t take three bananas for a snack today. Why? Because you didn’t even eat the one I packed yesterday, and I don’t want to deal with the aftermath. Max, where are your library books? They’re where I told you to put them last night—next to your bed, right by the fish tank. They’re not there? How is the fish still alive?”
With a quick glance at the clock, I mutter to myself about being late. I morph from a frazzled mom to a drill sergeant. As I pull out of the driveway, I notice a cup of water still perched on the roof of my car. My neighbor gestures to remind me of it, and I choose to pretend I don’t see him and speed down the street.
We get stuck in the carpool line, and I crank up the drill instructor voice again: “KIDS! GET OUT OF THE CAR! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE!” Max struggles with the heavy door, and in a moment of desperation, I plead with Ella to help him. (I realize I may have just made a case for home-schooling here.)
As Max starts to cry, Ella manages to open the door for him. “MOMMY! I HAAAAAATE THIS VAN DOOR!” Frustrated, I speed through the line, feeling annoyed with the whole situation.
In the midst of this madness, I spot one of my favorite teachers, who always seems to radiate youthful energy and confidence. I can tell she’s silently vowing never to be in my shoes while smiling at me, leaving me to wonder if it’s sympathy or condescension.
Upon returning home, I deal with my youngest, Lily, who is three and half, and in desperate need of a diaper change.
My sister-in-law, who seems to have it all together, is a home-schooling pro. Her home looks like something out of a magazine, and she throws perfectly organized gatherings. It’s hard not to feel a bit deflated in comparison.
For a long time, I felt guilty about not home-schooling my kids. But I’ve come to this realization: it’s simply not the right fit for us at this moment. Plus, I just discovered that “a lot” is actually two words. Would you really trust me with your kids?
I have a teaching degree from a small college in Iowa, which included invaluable lessons like:
- Crafting art projects
- Supporting fellow educators with cotton balls and good vibes
- Analyzing Judy Blume characters
I entered teaching because I genuinely care about kids and want to be around them. I teach my children many life lessons—like how to load the dishwasher or why it’s essential to use shampoo instead of conditioner. I guide them on social skills and personal hygiene, reminding them that life lessons are just as significant as academic ones.
Life knowledge is crucial, and I’m done feeling guilty about not pursuing a path that doesn’t suit me right now. For now, I’ll leave the formal teaching to the professionals and focus on perfecting my skills in the daily chaos of getting my kids to school.
If you’re curious about the realities of home-schooling, you might want to check out this insightful post on our blog. For those considering at-home insemination, you can find reputable kits available at a great online retailer. And for further resources on pregnancy and home insemination, Healthline offers excellent information to guide you.
Summary
In a world filled with opinions about public schooling and home-schooling, I’ve embraced the chaos of my daily life as a parent. While I admire those who home-school, I’ve accepted that it’s not the right choice for my family at this time. Instead, I focus on teaching my kids essential life skills and navigating the daily challenges of parenting.
Leave a Reply