Notes from the School Room

So busy hiding stories about that baby that’s going to die from all my feeds that I haven’t had time to read any books or anything. I know, I made a big fat announcement last week about all the reading I was definitely going to do. But that’s the way of it. That which I want to do I can’t possibly do because of all the other things I have to do. In this case, besides hiding from the news, actually writing my end of the school year reports and sending them off, and getting ready for lovely visitors, and trying to keep myself glued together by any means necessary.

So another school year is in the books. It’s always sort of surreal, sitting amidst piles of books and scraps of paper, combing through the desultory mess, pining for magically acquired productivity and more perfect routines.

I’m an accidental homeschooler–I stumbled into it and I’m still stumbling around, trying to balance the inner workings of the child against the beliefs and requirements of the wide world outside, not ever perfectly understanding either. And that’s before I bring my own insecurities and expectations out to play. Sitting with all my piles of books I always look fondly to that non existent past, where I am June Cleaver in pearls and heels, sitting in a clean living room with a cup of coffee and the paper, when the children come crashing in to tell me about their day at school, where someone else in pearls and heels taught them poetry and Latin. Maybe it’s just the clothes I’m lusting for, maybe it’s not the fascinating idea of not having to do every single job myself.

Still, I homeschool because I like it and I want to. I like being with my children. I want to watch their minds unfold. I don’t want to miss…well, everything. There are plenty of things I’d like to miss, but you can’t really chose. You have to take a few smooths with the rough.

But, when I’m organizing my lifestyle brand, don’t imagine for a minute that I’ll be setting up a side homeschooling guru outfit. Unless it’s called Homeschooling From a Place of Panic, or Just Be The Opposite Of Me. If my children end up knowing things and being productive human people it will be because God meddled extensively, and because it’s not really possible to run Everything. Some bits of good will inevitably slip by untainted by incompetence and idiocy. Look at the federal government, you can’t say they Never do any good…oh never mind, that’s a Bad Analogy.

So now it’s really summer. And that means I’m going to read those books. I’ll blog about them next Saturday or something.