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Never can tell.

Enthusiastic, fresh and a head full of schemes, I embark on an adventure to train, teach and embrace a movement. Home is where my heart is so I gather the chicks close and we nest contentedly.

Once upon a time, there are bitty desks and books and shelves committed to one, two, three little boys. Grade appropriate posters spread proudly. ABCs and 123s. Phonics and number lines. Fuzzy forest animals. Please come correct into this place because anything less is unacceptable. We read and play and make and take pictures.

Fast forward six weeks and forest friends have been mishandled. The shiny, new books have curling edges. Only one desk is intact. We regroup and reignite and relocate to the picnic table that serves for indoor meals.

Six years in, we recline together on the couch and coax one another into ancient history and English literature. They fight. I fuss. They dawdle. I rage. We give up and go away 10 times a day.

When the smoke gets too thick, I attempt clearing with a frenzied schedule of muddy islands, historical cemeteries, Indian villages, pink palaces, grand hotels with ducks in the lobby and picnics with pals at parks. Our library branch exists solely on our late fee contributions.

A baby delights us and directs our days. We co-op and speech and debate.

This season ends as middle schoolers arrive and it's time to get serious so we finagle and fumble to financially supplement with tutors and classes because Algebra and Chemistry are foreign and frustrating.

Seasons change again. One chick has flown away with my Pluck. #2 has his eye on a prize and I need only facilitate.

Thoroughly trained and lessons well learned, I am eager to embrace a new movement. Fresh and full of promise.

Comments

  1. Thanks for stopping by my blog. I am really scared and excited at the same time about putting my dc in school. You are right that the homeschool community can be hard on someone for leaving.

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