I started this post in my head earlier tonight but almost chickened out until I read this from Heather. She’s recently back in Texas after 10 months in Haiti and all the swirl is enough to send her to the fetal pose, rocking. She let some of it gush out and then promised some lighthearted posts in the coming weeks while she sorts through all this stuff.
I, for one, hope she keeps letting us peek inside the whole sticky, messy thought process.
Because then I won’t feel so bad when I do it.
If you happened to miss Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday‘s posts, then you would have basically no idea that we’re considering taking our older two girls out of their wonderful public schools and teaching them at home.
Chances are, you’re sick to death of hearing me waffle back and forth. Chances are, I’m nowhere near done.
I spent quite a bit of time today working on the Guys’ Sex Book (a thinking-out-loud post might be in order for this one too). And yet, in the back of my mind, niggle, niggle.
Something is keeping me from being completely 100% sold on this homeschooling idea.
It’s not the selfishness anymore. No, I haven’t morphed into complete selflessness, but I can honestly say I’m ready to give up my personal time. It’s not what anyone has said–the support has been wildly encouraging. It’s not my husband. It’s not the girls. It’s not, it’s not, it’s not…
Here’s what it is: I’m not ready to give up their schools. I know it’s where God has placed them the past few years, and I’m not convinced he’s done with them there yet.
Tonight we all ate a rushed, unhealthy supper, so we could jump in the van and head to Livi’s Music Concert at school. My initial thought was, “Now this is why I want to homeschool. No more mid-week 4th and 5th grade music concerts.”
But as I walked through the doors and into the cafeteria, a different feeling washed over me. I like this feeling of camaraderie, and I’m not ready for it to be over.
And then I sat by Livi’s friend Isabel’s mom, Youngra, and we started chatting about summer plans. She asked if we were going anywhere this summer, and I told her probably not, we were saving to go to Cambodia in December.
Youngra came to the U.S. from South Korea when she was 10, and when I had told her last summer about Gabe and me going to Cambodia she was all excited and wanted to help. She told me tonight that she and her family were so poor, and there were American missionaries at a church close to where she lived that would do a Bible study for kids in a beautiful meadow on Sunday afternoons. They would often give them small gifts like a new pencil or eraser. It left a lasting impression on her.
“I can still smell those new pencils,” Youngra told me, “and I would love to do something for those kids in Cambodia. It would make me feel so good.”
The concert started, and I was struck by the diversity of kiddos up on the risers. Different sizes and shapes and colors and nationalities. Some wearing dressy clothes, others not so much (guess which one mine was). I played peek-a-boo with an adorable little boy in front of me whose family is from Jordan. I watched kids from China and Ghana and Kenya and all kinds of other places all singing and playing five different notes on their recorders together.
And I didn’t want to give it up.
And then I thought about how much more awesome it would be for Livi and Ava to go to Cambodia while they were still in school, to be able to come back from their trip and share with their classmates what they saw and learned.
Then I thought about the Kids’ Zoo Book that’s hopefully going to be finished in the next few months and how exciting it would be to share it with their classes.
I asked the girls what they thought of going to school at least one more year. Livi said, “Yeah, I want to go one more year.” Ava said, “Nope, no way, not me.”
Their wise, wise father said, “How about if we don’t make a decision for a few more weeks? There are a lot of emotions right now, and why won’t we let them settle a little bit before we make it final?”
You’d think he’d been married to me for a while or something.