School is in full swing at the Dodson household. We just finished our first week. It was oddly calming to bring out the books and the posters and the colored pencils. Spelling lists are already mounted on the refrigerator.
It’s hard to believe this is our sixth year doing this homeschooling thing. I never imagined I’d be teaching my kids at home. I had one homeschooled friend growing up that lived down the street. I constantly drilled her about her mom being the teacher. I thought it was so weird.
When it was time for Gracie to enroll in kindergarten, J asked me to homeschool her. I said no. I would prefer she be able to write her name by fifth grade thank-you-very-much. I didn’t know how to teach a child to read or add or subtract.
We set up an appointment to visit the nearby elementary school. It was everything I envisioned a primary school to be. A small brick building in a rural part of town tucked behind massive oak trees and overflowing flowerbeds. The knotted hardwood floors squeaked as we strolled down the halls and poked our heads in classrooms. Reading corners with big pillows and award-winning books were lined up row by row. The teachers were welcoming and kind. I loved everything about the school.
J and I drove off that day in our Jeep with the windows rolled down; each of us looking in different directions.
“She’s never going there is she?” he asked.
“Nope,” I said.
We both knew it wasn’t the right plan for our family.
So here we go again, another school year. I’m looking forward to fourth and sixth grade. I think it may be the most challenging year yet. But I’ll continue to defer all of the hard questions and pre-algebra to the handsome principle who makes an appearance around 5:30 every afternoon.