Ad`ven´ture
| n. | 1. | That which happens without design; chance; hazard; hap; hence, chance of danger or loss. |
Sometimes, if you're lucky, it's easy to remedy adventure-itis. Move around the furniture. Dye your hair a crazy color or get a tattoo. Paint something. Sometimes, you'll book a great vacation to a new place, and the thrill of the experience will take the edge off of the urge. But then it comes back.
Or maybe you haven't gotten a tattoo in 10 years, and the gorgeous violet has faded from your hair, and your couches can't be arranged any differently (but there's still furniture to paint!). Maybe you had an amazing adventure to a place on your bucket list but can't afford anymore vacations because kids. All the temporal stuff just isn't cutting it anymore. That sense of adventure is pulling you to the point of discontent creeping in, and you don't like it. Maybe this is me.
But what if some of the chances in the life outside of your control swirl together to create a storm so perfect that you finally hear God shouting, "This is what you've been resisting. It's been there all along. Do it."
And I knew without a doubt the call that He'd placed on my heart: homeschooling my kids.
Now that I think about it, it's been there for a long time. Ever since Bug was three or so, I've pondered school choices, to the point of obsession. Back in Maryland, we had very few choices outside of the public school, and that was ok, because the schools were excellent. But I wanted the very best for her, so her strengths and abilities wouldn't get lost in the shuffle. Another mom at church suggested homeschool. I laughed, and said I could never homeschool. I enjoyed my free time and my patience was minimal. My line was, "I don't want to compromise their education."
We moved to Texas before kindergarten, and she attended our church's school. It was an incredible experience that set our educational bar very high. But, life happens, right? And then you can't afford private school anymore. What does a mama do? Obviously, you enroll in public school, apply for charter schools, and bargain with God. Conversations with God start to go like this: "Ok, God, please shut any doors that aren't your will for us. If Bug isn't meant to go to XYZ Charter, please close that door." She was waitlisted for the charter, and when the lottery came around, her wait list number went up. How's that for a solid no? But was that really a yes for public school?
We bought our house under the assumption that we'd be at Church School forever. Our school district is less than stellar; in fact, when ranking the school data for our city, its schools are excluded because the data would drive the average down too far. Bug's elementary school was one of the better schools, in an "affluent" area compared to the rest of the district, and served a lot of military families. It seemed...fine. Our first year was...okay. Her teacher was wonderful, but the work wasn't engaging. Looking back, that could have been due to the breakneck pace of information, often interrupted by kids throwing classroom furniture. Music once a week-ish. No art outside of classwork. Was this really going to be her elementary school experience? She begged me to homeschool. I made excuses.
Second grade was worse. Her first teacher was amazing, poised to be one of the teachers you remember for the rest of your life, but he was pulled to teach a different grade after just a few weeks. His replacement, also a man, was the polar opposite. Non-communicative, passive, and, to those watching at home, not at all invested. Not only did she have 2 teachers in one year, her school also saw three different principals, and the much beloved librarian died. It was a pretty crazy year. Yes, the teacher and administration merry-go-round is unusual, and was out of our hands, but second grade took the zest out of my sweetie's heart. She became complacent and passive, and became very anxious. Nearly every night, she begged me to homeschool. I wanted my sparkly, vibrant, sweet-and-spicy baby girl back.
Meanwhile, we struggled to find a good fitting, affordable preschool/Mother's Day Out program for Bud. We hopped from program to program, with hits and misses, trying to find a program that would accommodate his needs. Bud is ridiculously smart. He can take 10 Legos and make 25 different incredible creations. He's older than most, taller than all, and far more verbal than a lot of adults. And of course, his birthday completely misses the cutoff for a better suited grade level. So, when it came time to find an actual Pre-K program for him, we wanted one that would not be full-time and wasn't just going to teach the same old shapes, colors, ABC's and 1-2-3's. We toured several schools, and none felt 100% right. But we had to choose one, right? So we chose one that would actually work with him on his level, and it was only a half day, and affordable-ish. The biggest issue that kept coming up was that if Bud started in this school, which goes through 12th grade, he'd have to stay there in order to allow him to continue to learn on his grade level. That's not necessarily a choice we'd prefer for him long-term. And then one of the staff there told me that she homeschooled her kids prior to coming to this school, and it was basically a fluid transition. Homeschool. There it was again. Should I actually, seriously consider this for my kids?
God was unrelenting. Second grade got worse. The preschool thing just didn't feel right. I felt like I just didn't have enough time in my day to spend with my kids, who I obviously love, but actually really like. There was a host of other little things that were posing conflicting feelings in my life. I kept fighting it, until one day I stopped.
Homeschool.
At first, J laughed and dismissed me as slightly mental. In some ways, I agreed. I'm not the patron saint of patience, by any means. But as in anything, our weakness is a blessing; it's a chance to allow God to shine his strength through us as we lean on Him. Quickly, J realized I was serious, and gave me his unconditional support.
So for the last couple of months, I've been researching, comparing, and analyzing different learning styles, curricula, and methods. I've pondered how strict of a schedule I want to keep. What kind of homeschooler will I be? Will I be able to separate teacher from mommy and keep frustration at bay? I'm sure as we get into the actual schooling part, my views will evolve, but I think I've come to a pretty big conclusion. I've realized that relationship is just as important, if not more so, than routine. If I'm loving my kids well, and creating an atmosphere where learning is joyful, then the results will come naturally. That's been a pretty proven method around here, because that's how we've always taught the kids since they were little. Imagine it. Good books. The people you love and WANT to be around. Art. Music. Nourishing food. Exploring nature. Exploring our rich city and all of the incredible opportunities here. Adequate rest. Play. And for our family, integrating our faith into our reasons for doing everything. Shouldn't that be how kids learn?
Making the decision, or really, submitting to the Lord's plan for us, was a relief. For the first time, I feel incredibly content. I feel excited, more excited than I have in years, and motivated in such a new way. This is an adventure! It's a wild west landscape, full of yet-to-be-discovered territory. It requires sacrifices that are actually blessings. It's going to be a major adjustment, but one that I believe is much needed. The payoff though...the difference in Bug's demeanor since we made the decision is remarkable. Kids are only little once, and the time is fleeting. Is it a risk? Absolutely. But this is a risk I'm willing to take. There is truly freedom in obedience, and this is proof positive.
I still wake up with that adventure itch, but it's an itch that spurs me forward and creates joy, the kind of joy that comes with pursuing your calling. Adventure always comes with its bumps and bruises, failures and successes, triumphs and tears. The requirement is a willingness to answer its call and jump in. And let me tell ya, this sort of adventure is way more satisfying than rearranging furniture.
[Disclaimer!!! I am in no way discrediting public schools. I am a huge advocate for public education, and the amazing teachers who work tirelessly for our nation's children. This is simply my family making a choice for our children, based on their needs. We are not in a financial position to privately educate three children.]
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