“Just go take a break! I’ll call you in ten minutes,” I tried release the frustration in a slow, deep sigh that felt like steam from a pot of over-boiling noodles. This was not how I had imagined our Monday!
The kids, oblivious to my emotions, gladly scattered into bedrooms where sounds of LEGOS shifting in large bins announced their chosen activity. I sought refuge in some counsel from Jeff.
My husband works from home. In some ways, this is an amazing blessing. He is almost always here. But he is almost always here! For him, this means interruptions right when he needs to accomplish important things. For us, it means watching our noise level, not always a simple thing in a household of four active learners. Today, I hoped for a few minutes before his next meeting. I needed to remember why I was doing this? Teaching our kids at home felt ridiculously impossible.
Once, I had my own classroom. Students came to me, Mrs. Gibson, expecting wonderful things. Sure, I had students with extra needs for boundaries and support. Every classroom does. But in general, I was respected. They trusted me to guide them on educational adventures. I worked hard to bring them meaningful learning experiences. It was exhausting, but rewarding at the same time.
For one year, my own kids became members of other teachers’ classrooms. They were so respectful towards these hard working women. I received repeatedly positive reports. My kids were model citizens…in someone else’s classroom community. In my homeschool world? Not so much! They bickered, complained, questioned my authority…I sure didn’t feel like a professional with my own children at home.
Now, I sank onto the couch where Jeff sat with his laptop.
“Do you want me to talk to them?” His concern was clear. I must really be showing how stressed out I felt. I hated calling on him to restore order to our day. That or tears tended to get the kids’ attention, but neither was a great tool to bring lasting improvement. Surely, there must be a better way.
“I think we should take the morning off. I just can’t get my positive attitude back,” I hoped he wouldn’t think I was throwing in the towel. I really didn’t want to send the kids to school…or did I?
“I have complete confidence in you. I know you’ll figure this out,” my husband’s faith in my teaching ability would need to do for now, until I sorted this all out.
Thankful for a cool, autumn breeze, I took my journal and Bible out to our dilapidated picnic table under the pine trees. First I just sat, trying to regain my balance. I gazed at some wispy clouds drifting by. I listened to birds singing over my head somewhere. I swatted a gnat off of my face. I wondered if the kids had even noticed no one calling them back to learning. Those LEGOS could occupy their attention for hours.
Next, I began writing all my frustrations into my journal. Just hours before, I had used my journal to awaken the day. As I read in the Bible, God inspired me to enthusiasm and hope. Part of my frustration was how quickly that hope evaporated from my heart. The kids’ bad moods should not so easily bring mine down. I remembered the words of a pastor, “Don’t be the thermometer, be the thermostat.” I needed to set the mood to our day. Lord, help me stop being so reactive to my kids,” I prayed.
As I continued exploring the problem, I discovered pride at the center. I feared that my kids’ disrespect was a sign that I, who call myself teacher, was actually an imposter. Then I remembered,
“Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you” (1 Peter 5:6-7).
Lord, I can’t figure out why my kids don’t listen to me. This is so different from teaching in the classroom. Please help me find wisdom!
I re-entered my home calmer, ready to make some PBJ’s and then restart our learning time with a favorite read aloud.
Later in the day, I continued to mull over this issue. Why did other people’s children respect me when my own did not? Had I raised spoiled kids? This didn’t match up with the reports I received from others about my children. What was the difference?
Then, a few days later, I felt a nudge from the Holy Spirit as I helped a young girl find her confidence in Sunday school. With other families’ children, they had a little fear of me, the Teacher. They wanted to please me. My own kids had the same feeling towards their other Teachers. At home, my kids knew I loved them NO MATTER WHAT. They felt comfort expressing their feelings and opinions. Maybe it was too much comfort! But I could work with that.
Homeschooling is uniquely challenging because our kids show us all of their quirks and quarrels. It is a battle to hold onto hope when they push against our reasonable boundaries. Thankfully, we need not do things in our own strength.
As my kids and I grew together, I learned to look beyond my helpful “principal-husband” and my emotional ups and downs. When I brought our struggles to the Lord, He helped me use them to meet deeper needs in my kids than academics. The very issues that brought me discouragement became cues to address character development in our family. If He helped me, God can also help you. Cast your cares on the One who called you to homeschooling. He is faithful!
He who began a good work in your family will be faithful to complete it. You can count on Him!
YES YES AND YES~ so true ~”For one year, my own kids became members of other teachers’ classrooms. They were so respectful towards these hard working women. I received repeatedly positive reports. My kids were model citizens…in someone else’s classroom community. In my homeschool world? Not so much! They bickered, complained, questioned my authority…I sure didn’t feel like a professional with my own children at home.”