Getting our homeschool ON!

I think I can now officially call myself a “homeschooling mum”! Not a label I thought I’d ever have, but Makena and I have been getting our home-school on the last week and a bit. When we came here I expected to do a little bit of homeschooling, but it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, or a long-term commitment. More a time-filler than anything else.

Well, we’re nothing if not flexible, right?

It turns out our smooth, planned out segue of moving to Rwanda and getting the kids into school was more akin to traveling a little-used bush track, than the smooth ride down a new highway we had pictured. The journey included roadblocks, bush-bashing, detours and washouts. As well as a fair bit of that “pancake fixing” I mentioned here, tears and a lot of questioning – are we even on the right road (in regards to school)? It’s a long story, won’t bore you with the details, but the outcome is that Makena and I are doing a fairly intense homeschool program – 7 hours of phonics, spelling, sight words, reading fluency, comprehension, grammar and maths (*grits teeth and repeats “Maths is fun” over and over*), 5 days a week for the next couple of months.

Last week we had a ‘honeymoon period’ – focus, enthusiasm, all-round great attitude, getting stuck into every task without question or complaint. It was delightful. I was confident, enthusiastic, even quietly thanking the school for messing us around and forcing this homeschool thing on us. This week – reality has hit. I’m seeing why school was so tricky for my girl in a whole new light, how much of a struggle reading is for her, and the clever not-so-great habits she has formed to avoid things that she perceives as too hard or simply not worth her time.

And this whole process has brought to light some home-truths about myself. Like, I’m not very patient with my own kids. Put me in a room with kids who swear at you, throw things or tantrums and I have all the patience in the world (well….to a point). Put me in a room, at a table with my kid who throws a pencil down in frustration, gives me a death stare and huffs ‘I can’t DO this’ and its all I can do not to snap back at her, “Yes you CAN, just give it another go. Read it again. You know this.” Gone in an instant is the patient, sit back and wait, don’t react negatively me.

Also, I don’t handle rejection well, especially through my kids. When we were told that the school was not going to take one of the kids and was questioning their ability to cater for the other, due to their results on the pre-admission assessments they did (don’t even get me started on standardised testing. I had little patience for it before, and even less now), well……lets just say you probably would have enjoyed being a fly on the wall and seeing the little tantrum I threw.

And I have the whole-self condemnation thing down to a fine art. “It’s all my fault. If only I hadn’t worked the last 3 years I would have been there for my kids more, I shouldn’t have studied because that took even more time away from them. If I weren’t working and studying I would have noticed how hard school was for Makena, I would have been able to help her. Why did we move here, ‘cos how are we going to get her assessed and helped and fixed now? What kind of a parent are you? Heck, what kind of a teacher are you to not pick this up?” Helpful. Not.

So clearly, I have some stuff to work on. But I have to say, despite all of that, I am cherishing this opportunity to spend time with my girl. To encourage her and be the one to see her excitement when she’s doing something well. To teach her new things and learn with her (like congruent shapes and order properties and – now I’m really showing my ignorance (what hope does the kid have?!) – that ‘tele’ is Latin for ‘far away’!). To have lots of time with her – just the two of us – something that I feel I’ve missed since she was a toddler. To help her with her learning and reading which I’ve mourned missing out on a lot over the last few years. In a way, I feel like I’ve been handed this opportunity to make up for lost time.

And that is a blessing.

 
 

Pancakes

Makena has recently taken a particular liking to cooking. She can make French Toast on her own, is quite an accomplished egg scrambler, & enjoys helping with dinner or baking as often as she can. Lately she’s been asking me to teach her how to make things “from scratch”, and decided she wanted to start with pancakes. “I can do it,” she assured me, “on my own.” So off she went, getting each step from me (I don’t have a printed recipe for pancakes) then going to do it on her own. When she added the milk I left her to it with the instructions that she needed to get all the lumps out so she had a smooth batter. All good.

Or so I thought.

When I came back I discovered she had added almost 2 litres of milk to her batter – “because it didn’t feel right. So I just added more until it was better!”

Thankfully I was able to salvage her batter, but needless to say – we ate pancakes for 3 days!

It got me thinking though – how often do we try to fix things because they don’t “feel right”? Things that we have supposedly given to God & are trusting Him with, but as soon as something happens that doesn’t meet with our expectations, or the timing is ‘wrong’, we try and fix it.

Or am I the only one who does that?

Picture source.