Decision Making

I've been corresponding via e-mail with a friend of mine - a friend, by the way, who I wish had a blog of her own (hint, hint) as she is wickedly funny and insightful. This friend is a fellow fence straddler in that we both, at least on this subject, see valid points all around - neither of us would categorize the education of children as a black and white, cut and dried issue. Our written exchange has got me thinking about how it is, exactly, that I make any major decisions as a parent what with so many alternative options always hovering over my shoulder. When you are naturally quite wishy-washy (notice my telling blog title), spending an exorbitant amount of time, wasting a foolish amount of energy on neither here nor there quandaries such as what kind of conditioner would work best on my frizzy hair or which movie to rent from Blockbuster, coming face to face with something life changing can be daunting, to say the least.

And yet here I am: a mother to four children all born at home (or in various apartments throughout the city of Chicago to be exact), an Orthodox Christian convert, and the soon to be talk of our neighborhood - once word gets out that the Sabourin kids will not be at the bus stop, or in anyone's classroom, this fall. Even I look back with surprise at how I got here, more convinced than ever of a God and His master plans. Take the Orthodox thing, for example, as it represents clearly how my mind and spirit cringe most nervously at the weight of a given impossibility just shortly before stepping into it like a custom made dress that fits perfectly.

My first reaction to the Church was, "H-m-m, interesting for someone, anyone else!" I then switched my tune to, "Well, there is certainly more to it than I originally estimated, but a move in that direction would be too extreme." After more studying and praying and observing, I became seriously intrigued but was saddened by the fact that my friends and family just wouldn't understand, and thus better for now to stay put in my current circumstances. But then finally, after two years as a bystander, the longing to convert became simply overwhelming. I could hardly bear to attend one more Liturgy without communing as a member. My ever increasing desire for the Orthodox Church drowned out the stubborn nagging of my doubts. I knew, then, I was ready to be Chrismated.

It was the exact same pattern with Homeschooling:

1: "Good for you!"

2: "I see your point, but it just wouldn't work for this period of our lives."

3: "Man, I would like to, but people would think we were crazy!"

4: "I want my kids with me now, under my guidance and influence, regardless of the upheavals and opinions of others!"

It's a miracle is what it is, my embracing of challenges too big for my flighty tendencies. Christ is wise in His dealings with me, revealing just as much of His will as I can handle - leading me one day, one small revelation at a time toward an unknown future. I don't know what is best for your children or their children or anyone else's children who don't live under this roof or share my last name. But I believe that prayers for guidance, despite the trembling in our voices, will eventually lead to answers clear and specific. So I wait now, with my imperfect faith, for the strength to follow through on this endeavor.

Above Average

So I imagine my average homeschooling day looking something like this:

5:30 am - wake up for a three mile jog

7:00 am - grind wheat for my whole wheat flour pancakes

7:30 am - kids arrive at the table having made their beds and gotten dressed on their own

8:00 am - morning prayers and Scripture reading

8:30 am- school work

11:30 am - prepare nutritious lunch all together, eat harmoniously, shared clean-up

12:30 - 2:30 - kids in quiet time while I write uninterrupted

3:00 pm - outing to the park, the library, ride bikes, etc.

5:00 pm - Kids do evening chores (perhaps fold and put away laundry?) while I cut up the dozen or so vegetables to be served with the complicated Thai dish that I am making for supper and everyone in my family is super excited about

7:00 pm - Dad comes home to a tidy house, a fantastic meal, and a wife dressed to the nines in a cute little outfit she picked up at the J.Crew outlet on clearance

That sounds about right, don't you think? Am I missing anything? Am I setting myself up for a flood of disappointment, the depth of which will drown out all acceptances of imperfection, of having imperfect kids, an imperfect life? Is there something else to this homeschooling thing besides keeping up with the proverbial Latin speaking, violin playing, exotic food making, scrapbooking Joneses whom primarily exist in my imagination? Could you share with me a realistic snap shot of a typical day, in your house, with homeschooled children? Could you inspire me to do my best for the sake of Love rather than vanity? Can you explain how, within the context of educating your kids, fulfillment might look messier, sound noisier, and feel much more authentic than the sterilized images of family life being portrayed by the media as normal, achievable, purchasable? Can we please keep reminding each other to pace ourselves and to take advantage of every circumstance, whether good or frustrating, to point our sons and daughters back to Christ?

Why?

If you were to come up and ask me why, specifically, I have decided to homeschool, you would most likely get an incoherent hodge podge of half statements and random mothering narratives as an answer. I should probably work on this, sculpt some beauty of a response out of the mass of raw material currently piled in my mind, dense with significance but not all that pretty to look at. The unglamorous truth is, that I stumbled onto this choice; I tripped repeatedly over the same lousy cracks in a system I really wanted to believe in but finally gave up on when I realized the tools to fix it were simply not available.

First, there was, "Code Red" a drill my children went through to prepare them for a possible attack on the school from a fictitious gun toting nut job in response to the recent shootings at Virgina Tech. and NIU. "I curled up really small by the teacher's desk, mama. No one would find me there!" said my six-year-old daughter, Priscilla. Then there was the permission slip for "AIDS" education. Could the second and third grade teachers instruct my son about the risks of this life threatening autoimmune disease? My same son who refused to go outside last summer after dusk for fear of catching West Nile virus from a mosquito. There were tears of disappointment over our permanent lack of funds for the electronic gaming systems everyone else in class had. There is the stress filled rush in the mornings - the chaos of homework, hungry bellies, and grumpy attitudes in the afternoon. And then there is that ache in my gut when they board the bus - when they leave me most days of the week to be influenced by others.

Why, you ask, am I choosing to take matters into my own hands? Why on the cusp of the freedom I had been pining over for years - three of four kids out of my hair - would I change my tune mid-song and trade my long awaited solo career for membership in a choir of five all over again?

Well, its complicated in a ridiculously simple kind of way:

I love my family.

Reality

Thank you Paige, Selena, Kelleylynn, Elizabet, and Rachel, for not only your vote of confidence but for sharing with me "success" stories I can strive, over the next several years, to recreate in our own family by way of homeschooling! I am beginning to feel excited, even anxious, to get started yet at the same time so apprehensive about the reality of being home all day long with all four of my darling children. If you don't mind my asking, I think it would help for me to know in advance some of the challenges I should expect to face when the novelty both for them and for me begins to wear thin and the initial enthusiasm starts to fizzle.

What, in your opinion, are some of the more challenging aspects of home education? Do you ever wring your hands in exasperation, swear you're dropping your kids off first thing in the morning at the door of the public junior high school (grade school, etc) , or end the day in tears overwhelmed by the responsibility of being a mother, a homemaker, a wife and an educator? For those of you who were homeschooled, did you ever feel lonely or isolated? I looked in my homeschool catalogue for testimonials that included phrases like "sometimes really frustrating but still worth it" or "my children bicker constantly and it drives me nuts but one day last week, Hallelujah! they worked on a science project together and both enjoyed it!" but all I found were photos of kids reading chapter books on the beach and homeschooling anecdotes glowing optimistically with unreserved satisfaction.

I have this sneaking suspicion that my bad habits, that my sons' and daughters' bad habits, won't automatically be annihilated when we don our new role as "homeschoolers". I have this hope, however, that the good experiences will outweigh by far the tough ones.

Am I right?

Love Stories

Do you know what I would love to hear, or read I guess? The highlights, the good things, all the warmth and fuzziness you can offer. If you were homeschooled and didn't hate your mother afterwards, for example, I would really like to know that. If there are moments as a homeschooling parent that make you teary with thankfulness for the opportunity you have been given to educate your own children, please don't hold them back from me. You see on Monday, I am going to ask a different question, one a tad more raw and sobering, so I was hoping to root myself a bit into your fertile soil of optimism before ditching the rose colored glasses and getting down to the business of reality. Your enthusiasm for what you do, I believe, will keep me buoyant when the impending waves of doubt come a crashing.

Measuring Up

Well I found a homeschool co-op through a friend of mine. Every other week they gather at the Library and offer projects for homeschooled kids of all ages based on a theme (I think now it is Ancient Rome). There are also meetings for the parents once a month. I was excited and relieved to hear that we might not be doomed to socialize with just each other and the mailman after all, but there is an element of nervousness for me. In my rudely stereotypical mindset, I imagine the homeschool mothers who run such an organized set-up to be...well, super organized and most likely perfect. I worry that I would fit into such a group like Hostess Twinkies on a tray filled otherwise with organic spelt bread. I feel it is important for to me to examine these misconceptions now, lest I assume myself right into a pit of "never good enough" insecurity - lest I turn generous, seasoned role models into yardsticks up against which I measure my own "Sucesses" and "Failures" as a mother.

Trying to pick just one path to walk in the land of Homeschooling, to me feels like trying to decide what flavor ice cream to get at Baskin Robbins (is that just a Midwest thing?). There are many, many options and everyone else's choice looks so great. I don't want to flounder around for the next several years second guessing myself, wondering if I should have gone about it her way, their way, anyway but the way I am currently doing it. I do need to lay aside my pride, here, and admit I know nothing. I need help from these lovely individuals who have successfully overcome their own fears to do what I have, as of yet, not done. I desire to be a more gracious student, myself - one who can admit with honesty her weaknesses and apply the tips gleaned from others to improve them, yet all the while staying confident in my own expertise as the mom of these specific children under my care.

Hear ye, Hear ye!

So this is my official announcement for all of you who have been waiting on pins and needles, whose lives have been put on hold by the suspense:

In the fall I will HOMESCHOOL my children.

For months I have wrestled with this decision, shoving it back into the recesses of my brain only to have the urge I was trying to supress grow even larger and more intensive. Finally, when my son Elijah received a regular old portable CD player for his 9th birthday (not an iPod mind you) and reveled, I mean totally lit up like a Christmas tree over it, singing his sensative, non-sports loving, emotionally perceptive heart out to the Les Miserables soundtrack, the deal was sealed for me. I felt the spark of his (and his siblings') uniqueness, saw the window of my influence swiftly closing, and dove for the chance to keep them interested in learning, contented with simplicity, and undistracted by the pressure and sometimes just plain cruelty of their peers.

I am terrified.

This blog will deal only with our Homeschooling journey. I have many questions to ask and just as many emotions to work through. These next few months will be ones of preparation as I plan for an adventure I still can't believe I am embarking on. Feel free to inundate me, encourage me, and educate me with your wisdom!