I love homeschooling, but it's not what you think

I love homeschooling, but it's not what you think.

I ran across a post recently about 'reluctant learners' and mothers who subsequently feel like they are failing in homeschooling. I could relate to it. Then it made me wonder if I've been sending the wrong message to the world. 

OK. Not the whole world. But at least the handful of people who are paying attention. 

I don't do it on purpose. But I can see that when I say "I love homeschooling!" and you think Oh but that's because you don't have my kid, or obviously you have more patience than I do, you've gotten the wrong idea. I am not a patient person. I just love my son enough to send him to his room for his own safety when I've reached my limit. And I'm supplied with whiskey. And no, I don't have your kid, but I have mine and that's more than enough. 

I don't really love fighting him to get to the table and fighting him for every page that I know he could finish in 5 minutes but we have to go through a half hour of drama first. I don't love the drama. 

A little note about me: I hate, hate, hate whining. Aside from all the little buttons it pushes in me, I watch the clock and think 'so much time wasted on this DRAMA!' Hey, I have other things I could be doing as well. I often think about all that I could be accomplishing for myself if he was in "real" school. I just finished my first novel. I did it on the weekends, while he was away at his dad's house. I daydream about all the books I could write, the cleaning I could get done, the relaxing I could be doing. I don't homeschool because I have no other life-goals for myself. 

But these are fleeting thoughts. In reality I am assured - by many, many reasons that I'm not going to list here - that this is the right thing to do for him. Motherhood isn't about me and neither is my decision to homeschool. 

Not just in spite of all of the struggle, but partly because of it, I love what I do. He challenges me in ways that another human wouldn't be allowed to. He challenges my intellect with his insightful and philosophical questions. He challenges my creativity - how can I teach him this concept in a more interesting way?  He challenges my life philosophies - why do we do what we do? How can we look at things differently? He challenges my patience and sense of self - why does this bug me so much, and how can I be a better person? 

I don't enjoy being constantly challenged. It's exhausting. But I need to be challenged. 

More than anything, however, is that when all the drama is finished, my struggling learner has learned something new at the end of the day. He does this in spite of himself. I understand him. Part of the fighting is because he lacks confidence. Every accomplishment adds another piece of confidence back to himself. He goes in fighting and walks away smiling, and a little prouder. I listen to him read now and I'm blown away every single time, because every time I flash back to the difficult years it has taken to get my dyslexic child here. His accomplishments are my accomplishments. I think of the research and the articles and the statistics that bemoan the poor academic performances of children with learning disorders and the national question of 'How can we stop failing them?' and know that we are ahead of where he would have been conventionally. 

At the end of the day, what's not to love about that? 

Crosspost from Homeschooling Aspergers

Homeschooling ASD: joy and patience

I waded into Jaden's toy strewn room, unable to find a clear path. I told him to clean it earlier, and he said he did. 

"Jaden, this is what you call a clean room?" I asked incredulously. 

"I'm sorry, Mom," he replied. "My room looked clean to me. It's because my brain thinks different from yours." 

Aww, baby's first time using Autism as an excuse. I called bull***.  Sorry son, not this time.

We're doing well. Oh I mean we still have our moments where I'm supposed to have the patience of an angel and --- sometimes I don't. 

It's important to try my best as a parent, but I know that somewhere along the line I'll always fail. Like any parent.* I think it's also important to apologize to him when I screw up. Children see their parents as some kind of God-figure, if even if we're being wrong and unreasonable. I mean, they do know that we're being unreasonable, but the greater part of them is saying that we are unreasonable because there's something wrong with them. If I screw up, and I do, I tell him so and apologize. 

*Unless you're Caillou's parents, who never get upset, lose their patience, or raise their voice to more than the joyful twitter of a nightingale. But Jaden likes the show, so I must insert my earbuds and try to endure without growling and mocking them, because he hates it when I do that… 

But we've both been out of sorts lately. Just when I think I've found a good balance with him, it goes awry. Patience is worn thin in this household, and his temper flares up like a forest fire over the slightest thing. I wonder if the seasonal allergies have us wonky. Almost worse to me is how terrible he feels about himself afterwards for losing it. 

I think it's partly because school's "in session." He's very hard on himself, and I spend a lot of time trying to get him to be nicer to himself. There's no one to keep up with and there are no tests to fail. But the smallest mistake can send him over the edge.  

So I'm still trying to find our rhythm. I've read in several places that it can take a good year, so to consider the first year practice. I'll take this as gospel since I don't feel completely stabilized yet. I'm really enjoying it though, and - though the word "school" causes a biological reaction in children that is instinctual, much how like a field mouse knows to run away from a hawk's shadow - Jaden is enjoying it more than he'll admit. Any simple craft is a big hit.  He evens asks to do certain "school" things in the evening, for fun. And since I have a sick obsession with researching everything then attempting to compile it, of course lately it's been all things homeschooling. This time there is way too much of it - too many brilliant ideas, cute crafts, and free worksheets and printables everywhere - and I have to stop myself often. If I can't get it under control I might have to go into rehab. 

But I am also fully faced with the… discrepancies in Jaden's learning. Autism, SPD, and Executive Dysfunction are loudly prevalent. My personalized and pieced together curriculum ranges from preschool work to second grade. I've advanced him in some areas, only to have to fall back again to the beginning. His skills and comprehension are all over the place. Which is why I'm more glad I'm able to do this for him. But if ever I had a doubt of his intelligence (and I did, at times) they've been completely laid to rest in the last 6 months. 

Now, God give me more patience. 

Every book is a window

Last night Jaden and I finished reading The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. This wasn’t the first “big book” I’ve read to him but it's the first that we’ve finished. The others were just too far beyond his comprehension, but I thought that The Chronicles of Narnia might be just about right, and they are. He still doesn’t understand even half of what I’m reading, and because of that I’m even more proud of his ability to stick it out and listen anyway. I go back and summarize for him often and we ask each other questions about what we’ve read.

Not to brag (OK maybe a little?) but I’m proud of myself too. It’s nice to see the end results of years of struggle play out well. Jaden is – to put it mildly – not a very attentive child. I first started reading to him when he was maybe 6 months old. You know those little one minute, 3 word books with the little finger puppet in them to hold interest? Yeah I love those. Even then I had to hold Mr. Squirmy down and force him to pay attention, and that went on for a while. This was not something done lightly but a very weighed decision. Yes I’m an attachment parent and part of the “free the children” movement (not really I made that up,) and don’t believe in pushing a child too hard too fast, but maybe even then I sensed this was not some regular phase he’d grow out of but something he had to be taught. I was most successful by reading to him while I was nursing, his favorite thing, and I had my captive audience.

Fast forward years later and I have a child who listens to a story even when he doesn’t understand it. Who begs me to read to him on the nights when I waver and say we stayed up too late and maybe we should skip it. A few weeks ago as I turned off the light he said “Thank you, Mommy.”

“For what?”

“For reading to me,” he said, though I do it every night. And I tucked that moment into my box of treasures.

Reading has been a foundational piece of my life, so I was determined from the start that “this child will be a reader!” How important it was I didn’t even know at the time, before we understood that language in any form was one of his biggest challenges. How much more so essential it is that he will want to read, to listen, to understand. If the love for it is there, he will overcome his obstacles to accomplish it. Because he’s Jaden, and he’s strong-willed and determined to do whatever he sets his mind to do.

So to me, last night was a coup, a shining star in the sky that is opening for Jaden. When we were done I asked “Why do you think the Professor believed their story and didn’t think they were crazy?”

“I don’t know?” he said wondering.

“I think it’s because he’s been to Narnia too.” I looked at Jaden. “Actually I know that’s why, because there’s a book about that too.”

“There’s another book?” he asked, his eyes getting big.

“Yep. There are several books about Narnia. Would you like us to read them all?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed with a smile.

And his world opened up that much more.

Every book is a window

Every word a step

Into unknown territories

And unchartered depths

Every idea, whether

Wrong or right

Opens rooms for thoughts

To shine lights in the night

Education’s a dry thing

But learning abounding

When a child realizes

The world is astounding 

A life may be poor

Even if rich or grand

Without adventures to read

Of some distant land

So you take your gold

And I’ll take my mysteries

Shakespeare and Dickinson

Roman Empire histories

I’ll skip all the drama

and allegory;

The world is too small

Without a good story

Copywrited (In other words, please don't reprint without permission. Thanks!)