In today’s world, there’s an abundance of conversations surrounding the shortcomings of public education. I have a number of friends who choose to home-school their children, and while I sip my Diet Coke and enjoy a rare moment of peace with my kids at school, I can’t help but feel a bit inadequate.
This morning was particularly chaotic. My partner, Alex, had been working late, leaving me to handle the morning routine solo. My morning sounded a lot like this: “Ella! Put on your shoes. Ella! Brush your hair. Wait, did you just wipe your nose on your bangs? You’re ten; why am I putting your shoes on? Max, eat your toast! No, you can’t take three oranges for your snack today. Why? Because you didn’t eat the one I packed yesterday, and you’ll regret it later! Max, where are your library books? They’re exactly where I told you to place them last night, right by your nightstand, next to that unfortunate fish tank. They’re not there? Where could they possibly be? And how is your fish still alive?”
After a quick glance at the clock, I mutter a few expletives under my breath, and it’s a race against time as I transform from a tired mom to a frantic drill sergeant. As I pull out of the driveway, a large cup of water from McDonald’s hilariously tumbles off the roof of my car as my neighbor, who clearly has it all together, gestures for me to stop and pick it up.
But I ignore him and speed down the street, determined to get the kids to school on time. When we finally hit the carpool lane, I’m shouting, “KIDS! GET OUT! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE!” Max struggles with the heavy door, and I can’t break the carpool line rule to help him, so I plead with Ella to assist him. (I might have just made a case for home-schooling here.)
By then, Max is in tears as Ella helps him out, exclaiming, “MOMMY! I HAAAAAAATE THIS DOOR!” I zoom through the line, feeling frustrated with everything. As I notice one of my favorite teachers waving goodbye, I can’t help but see the inner monologue running through her head, vowing to never become me.
Returning home, I find my youngest, Mia, tangled in her dirty diaper—she’s three and a half.
My sister-in-law, who is impeccably organized and home-schools her kids, seems to have it all figured out. Their home resembles something from a magazine, and I often feel inferior in comparison. For a time, I wrestled with the guilt of not choosing home-schooling for my own children, but I’ve come to realize that it’s simply not right for us at this moment.
Sure, I have a teaching degree from a small university in Iowa, which included lots of interesting coursework—like how to craft imaginative projects and analyze Judy Blume characters. I entered teaching to be involved with kids, and I still do that every day. I teach them practical life lessons, like how to empty the dishwasher and the importance of good hygiene. I educate them on social skills and the value of friendship, even if that doesn’t involve traditional subjects like math or spelling.
Life skills are crucial, and I’m done feeling guilty for not taking a path that isn’t suitable for me right now. I’ll leave the teaching to the professionals because honestly, I’m still mastering the art of getting my kids to school in one piece.
If you’re interested in home education, you might want to read more about it in this article. Also, if you’re navigating preschool separation anxiety, this resource offers excellent insights. For those considering pregnancy, Healthline is a great place to find reliable information.
In summary, I’m choosing to embrace the chaos of traditional schooling while focusing on teaching my kids life lessons that matter. Home-schooling may work for some, but for now, I’ll stick to the routine of getting my kids to school.