Letter from a Homeschooling Mom

School moms, I don’t know how you do it.

You know, the rumours about homeschooling moms are true: there are days where I don’t get out of my pyjamas. On those days, my kids and I might snuggle up under a blanket on the couch with a cup of tea and our lesson books. We’ll leisurely read about kings and queens and islands and earthquakes and I will never once give thought to putting on grown-up pants. Of course, there are other PJ-filled days where I drink six cups of coffee before lunch and the kids binge-watch The Magic Schoolbus on Netflix and I count that as a science lesson. And also a geography lesson. The bus goes places, right?

Not us, though. We don’t go any where – at least, not first thing in the morning.

But you do! I see you all walking your kids to school while I’m drinking my tea. You somehow manage to drag your kids out of bed and then feed them and dress them and groom them enough to meet the generally accepted level of hygiene, and you do this all before 9:00am.

I can confidently say that this is simply beyond my skill level as a parent.

This past week was March Break and we put River in a local day camp. She had the most wonderful time hiking through the woods and sliding in the mud and roasting marshmallows around a fire. I’m so glad that we signed her up. But getting her there in the morning?

It almost killed me.

Every morning for the past week, I dragged my weary self out of the bed so that I could go give the equally bleary-eyed River her outfit for the day. Then we both kind of wandered around zombie-like, looking for coffee and cheerios.

While River picked at her cereal, I started to pack her lunch. Packing lunches is horrible. HORRIBLE. My daughter is a picky eater at the best of times, but trying to find foods that she’ll eat out of a lunch box is a special kind of misery. I suspect it’s punishment for all the times as a kid that I refused to eat my mother’s homemade Lunchables and insisted on the prepackaged kind that cost twice as much.

River wouldn’t touch a Lunchable with a ten-foot pole, so I had to come up with something else. Actually, I thought I had it nailed at first. I went to the grocery store on Sunday evening and blew our budget on all the things that I thought she would eat. Gluten-free pretzels. Drinkable yogurt. Gluten-free cookies. Gluten-free bagel chips. Gluten-free lemon loaf, which is as close to a sandwich as my daughter would ever eat.  All daughter-approved and lunch box-friendly.

Then, late on Sunday night as I re-read the camp letter, I saw the words “nut-free”. HOW did I forget about nut-free? GAH! I was so annoyed at myself. We quickly grabbed all the packages. Nothing had nuts in it but several items were made in nut-friendly facilities. Which means THEY’RE NOT ALLOWED.

With a sigh, I took the wafers and the cookies out of her lunch and figured that I’d just make a big pot of popcorn in the morning. Popcorn is a grain, right? It is in my house. And at 7:30 in the morning, that’s about the best I can do. Besides, I have no illusion that my child is actually going to eat anything I send – when I pack lunches, it’s all for show. I want other adults to know that I’m a caring parent that provides the necessities of life for her children. Honestly, I should just buy a plastic salad to pack in her lunch bag for show.

Once lunch was finally packed and the fewest possible quantity of Cheerios were eaten, we were ready to go. At least, that’s what I thought, until I realized that I was still in my pyjamas. Ugh! I have to get dressed too? Fine, but I drew the line at brushing my hair.

Or my daughters’ hair. I don’t think I remembered to brush it the whole week. Homeschooled kids are notorious for their messy hair. Or maybe I’m the only one that notices? I always check out other kids’ hair styles when I’m out at events because I want to make sure that my kids’ hair isn’t the worst. It actually is – but not by much – and I’m happy to make the other moms feel better about their parenting.

Now, I should say that some kids in the group do have lovely, even braids, but I just naturally assume that it’s because the moms have three kids or less. I know, I know – I have three kids or less. But I’m practically incompetent sometimes, so that’s automatically like having seven kids. And anyway, half of our outings are to a forest of some sort. I figure that if my kids get separated from the group, coyotes will be less likely to eat a feral-looking child and instead raise her as part of the pack. Really, it’s a security measure.

So each morning I dropped my daughter off with squeaky-clean but crazy-messy hair. I’m almost certain that her socks matched every day, and I’m holding on to that small success.

Once River was at camp, I returned home for a nice, quiet morning. Or not. My two youngest were at home with my husband, waiting for me to return and actively destroying my everything in the meantime. No rest for me! And school moms, I know this is true for you. You have other kids to deal with all day long – some of you even go through this whole ritual every morning and then go to work! It boggles my mind.

Honestly, if it didn’t mean leaving the house before 9:00am, I’d be outside with little cups of Gatorade to pass out as you rush past my house during your morning marathon.

Because I can’t believe you manage to get your kids to school every single day. I’m serious – teaching long division is nothing compared to this.

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This post is linked up at A Pinch of Joy • Motivational Mondays • Weekly Wrap Up