For those of you who don't know, until last week when they started a new school, for the past year I had been home educating my little boys. Ed was in reception when Bean didn't get a school place at the same school so I began delving into other options and came across home eduction. It's not very common in this country, but it's growing rapidly, for example; one of the long established Facebook support groups I joined last June had around 500 members. Just 14 months later, it currently stands at 4800. At the time, Ed was struggling with school. He seemed to spend his day bottling up his angst, only to explode the moment I picked him up at 3pm. Twice a week he would bolt with me running behind with slowcoach Bean, usually in his buggy even at four years old, just so I could keep up with Ed or encourage him to ride on the back. I'd usually find him hiding in the bushes but I'd always have to check the road first (as you do). It was highly stressful for us all. The meltdowns would last all evening, only to start again in the morning.
In the beginning, I lovingly spent my evenings planning projects and creating worksheets on things they were interested in. I excitedly envisaged a more relaxed life full of trips to the library, museums, the beach and of course lots of home ed groups.
Unfortunately what I got was quite different.
I did a bit of reading on 'Unschooling' and, alongside covering the basics, I wanted to encourage the boys to be able to fill their time unguided, playing and learning as they went. A lot of our friends were unschoolers and it's a great way of life, but I always had that worry in the back of my mind. I tried to ensure they always understood the importance of knowing how to read and write, I made sure they always saw me reading and I of course read to them every day. When they started to refuse to join me making lap books about various subjects, I started doing them on my own regardless. I wanted them to see that even as a 'growed up' I love learning new things. Ed loves science and maths so the house was always full of strange experiments and Bean loves boardgames so there was always those times when regardless of how busy I thought I was, everything was dropped when he handed me a box.
I never heard the words "I'm bored". I never have.
However, having two boys playing all day meant I could never see my floor for all the toys strewn everywhere.
It also meant I ended up with two boys who did what they liked, whenever they liked and never wanted to listen to what I said, especially if is was any kind of structured learning or tidying up time. Our days were full of hissy fit after hissy fit, some of which were my own.
My projects and worksheets went ignored. Every time I got them out, they'd scarper faster than I could say 'bumble bee'.
I found it challenging to take them anywhere. With two boys running at entirely different speeds; Ed would steam ahead while Bean lagged behind, making even the zoo a risk. I lost Ed on multiple occasions and soon gave up trying to take them anywhere. Even the food shop was saved for when I could leave them at home with Daddy. We went to home ed groups about twice a week and I made a lot of marvellous friends, but the boys mostly played together and didn't seem to make any real connections with the other kids. Sure, they'd have moments when they all played together and it was beautiful to watch, but we all lived so far apart it was difficult to move to the next level of friendship.
I turned my workroom into a playroom where we had space to learn together. It was awesome but it meant all my stuff had to be moved to the dining room and when I was working on a series of art pieces, one of the boys destroyed them while they were drying in the kitchen. Without a room to ban them from, all my work was around the house, much to it's peril. Losing that was the last straw and a few weeks ago I moved it all back round again, toys downstairs, my craft stuff upstairs, taking my workroom back.
The resentment which has built up in between us is sob-worthy. My relationship with my children, especially Ed my eldest, suffered and I had to do something. I couldn't keep hiding in the kitchen where I could let my tears fall away from concerned little eyes.
So after months of angst, worrying about what to do for the best, I applied for school places right at the end of the summer term. I was terrified that starting back at school might be the worst thing I could do to them, the most damaging to their delicate self esteem, but what use am I to them as a big old mess? I was too stressed, too snappy and in desparte need of my own space. Surely any damage school might inflict cannot be as bad as being brought up by someone like me in this state.
I still don't know if school is the answer. I think I possibly should've found a way to chill the hell out, but I had been trying for so long. It was time to accept that I am my own person who needs to work, projects and time alone. I of course enjoy working alongside them; they play while I sew, that's cool. But it never felt like I was doing enough.
I had wanted them to learn naturally rather than at the National curriculum rate, which in my opinion is too rigid, too hard and fast and far too early. I did attempt to go through a phonics system with them, which Ed already knew from his reception year but every time I pulled out my worksheets they would recoil and it promptly ensued another hissy fit. This means that now they are back in school, they are both a year 'behind' everyone in their classes. I knew this would happen, but I'm hoping that since their brains are that little bit older, they might be able to cope with the sheer amount of information waiting for them to soak up a little better. I might be wrong. I feel like it could go either way; they may steam through it and be OK or it may be irrevocably damaging to their self esteem. The only thing I can do is help pick up the pieces and help them along any way I can.
The worst part of all this is, being the mother, I feel entirely responsible. It's all my own fault. I was, still am, simply trying to make the best decision for all of us. I'm doing the best I can with what I've got. That's all anyone can ask.
It's so quiet here.
All my chores take literally half the time they took last week and my house is cleaner than it's been in ages. I know it shouldn't matter, but it does. I hate mess. I need a clean, tidy house, or at least as tidy as a builder's wife's house can be. My mind goes to jelly when everything around me is chaos.
I can listen to music at last, now that I don't have arguments or mischief to listen out for. One of the things they don't tell you about motherhood is how much you'll miss music. I reminisce of days spent with my stereo blasting some delightfully heavy rock/metal but I couldn't do it with the boys around. I cant trust them enough to take my eyes or ears off them for one minute haha.
There's so many things to do now I have time to myself, I'm still a bit bewildered and lost. My days feel long but productive.
Thankfully, everything seems to be going OK for the boys too. Of course Ed gives me the "I don't want to go, it's boring" tune every morning, but he still goes in. Bean is just super happy - no change there then. Gone are the melt downs I used to have to contend with when Ed was last at school.
I'm still struggling to get Ed to do his homework and Bean is so behind I'm going through the basics with him every day to help him out, but I'm sure we'll get there eventually.
Of course, I miss my home ed friends. Home educators are the most open minded, friendly, heart warmingly welcoming people I have ever met and I know a huge majority of them understand my decision. What they are doing for their children is so hugely admirable and I have nothing but respect for them.
About Home Education.
For more info, I'd recommend checking out Education Otherwise and Educational Freedom.
If you want to know more about unschooling, this article is a great explanation in my humble opinion. It of course, as a concept, is always up for heavy debate, but like with a lot of things, especially parenthood, each person has to find their own way.