Almost But Not Quite

I was unprepared for the level of anxiety I felt after publishing my previous post. You know, the one where I said I'm a homeschooler but I'm not. I'm a teacher but I'm not.

See, I thought about the conversation I'd had with the two teens earlier at the grocery store, and it bothered me just a little bit. Even as I was capturing the words for posterity, I had an uncomfortable sensation that I couldn't quite shake. As I got ready for bed it hit me--even though I referred to myself as a homeschooling mom in the opening paragraph, clearly I have let go of that notion based on the words that poured from my lips just hours earlier.

"You were a homeschooler? You're not now?"

"No, not at the moment."

The truth is, what I really said was, "No, not anymore." And it took me all of two minutes for an unbelievable feeling of pain and loss to wash over me, so much so that I came back and edited my entry to read "not at the moment."

Now, lest this disclosure cause you to feel that you can no longer trust that what I say is the truth, let me assure you that I am not in the habit of editing my own conversations. (Oh, how I wish that were possible--how many words I would like to take back!) So why, you may wonder, am I admitting this to you now?

Clearly, I am messed up.

No, I don't think I'm that messed up, but I do think my words are telling. The fact is, I am having a tough time letting go. Letting go of my kids, letting go of the past, letting go of what used to be and what might have been. In case you're wondering, I don't have a single regret left about sending the kids to private school. Sure, I was holding my breath before this school year began, and I can't tell you what satisfaction and reassurance it gives me when Tyler--he is the emotional barometer among my children--comes home on a daily basis and tells me how much he loves his classes, how he was encouraged by a poster he saw on the wall about "doing your best," how he loves sixth grade. Okay, who are you and what have you done with my son? Seriously, the joy is indescribable.

But on the flip side, I am no longer my kids' primary educator. They are stretching and learning and growing under someone else's tutelage for the majority of their waking hours. Ay, there's the rub.

But what about Sawyer? you ask. Hmmm, what about Sawyer? I sort of have the dream scenario before me--a school-aged child in my care, and just one at that! The perfect learning environment! It's funny how quickly I dismiss the idea that just because I only have Sawyer with me now, my teaching days are done. "You're not a homeschooler now?" "No, not anymore." Shame on me.

I believe my shift in thinking came on gradually, based on a lot of regrets left over from Tyler's earliest school days. We purposely waited until he was six to start schooling him, but I schooled him as though I were making up for lost time, pushing him relentlessly and putting unbelievable expectations on him. I must admit, I puffed up with pride when he was assessed at the end of that first year--the teacher was blown away by his abilities and accomplishments. But at what cost? How much fun did he have in Kindergarten?

Well, I could rake myself over the coals for hours--believe me, I'm REALLY good at that--but the point of this whole rambling post is that I'm afraid of making the same mistakes with Sawyer that I made with Tyler. The thing is, Sawyer is SMART--every bit as smart as the others, though his goofiness sometimes overshadows his intellect--and my temptation is to start him on that long road to academia. But he doesn't even turn five until the end of next month, and I don't want to rob him of a childhood that is rushing by at the speed of light. Yes, yes, I know, everything in moderation. I can impart wisdom and knowledge to him in small doses, right? I am teaching him, right? So why do I feel like my job is of less importance since I am teaching only one child? It's like I'm just playing at being a teacher. Well, no more.

Effective immediately, I AM a homeschooling mom, no matter if I spend two minutes or two hours a day devoted to the pursuit of knowledge. But above all, we're going to have FUN!