The highly anticipated–and, if I’m honest, somewhat dreaded–homeschooling school year has begun. In the three weeks since we’ve begun I have successfully (and by successfully, I mean: it has met my potentially unrealistic, high standards) completed about two days of school.
They were the first two days.
It has quickly gone downhill from there. Some days the only thing we get accomplished are morning devotions (which I will say is vitally important).
Since then we’ve had several days when the only sounds in our house range somewhere between muffled cries to loud screams of disapproval. Some of those sounds may have even come from their mother; perhaps slightly on the muffled side, but full of disapproval nonetheless.
My nearly two-year-old has peaked in his dislike for diaper changes, and so I’ve given him what he wants, only it’s not what he thought. Potty training has made my days that much tougher. (On the positive he has been doing pretty well.)
In a perfect world, I would have a spotlessly clean and tidy house. Instead, I catch my sons eating two or three-day-old dry cereal off the floors and cobwebs that I’m positive have started raising families in the deep, dark corners of my home. In a perfect world, I would have all my laundry folded and neatly placed in the proper dresser drawers. Instead, we live out of laundry baskets (clean, at least). When I do finally put away the clothes I get frustrated because the clothes aren’t where they usually are. In a perfect world, all my kids would be well-behaved and respectful little boys (because weren’t we all when we were growing up?). Instead, it seems some days they do 99.9% more bad than good. (And on those days I probably fall in the same statistics!) In a perfect world, my five-year-old would love learning to write, but he doesn’t; my three-and-a-half-year-old would know all his colors and could name all his letters and shapes, but he struggles; my nearly two-year-old could name all the animals and the sound they each make, but he doesn’t (mostly because his brothers answer everything before he can even open his mouth). In a perfect world, I would sit down with my boys and read endless books each day and play games until their hearts were content. Instead, we have clean clothes and dishes and sometimes food that didn’t come from a box or can.
Newsflash: we don’t live in a perfect world, not even slightly close. We live realistic and individualized lives in a far-from-perfect world.
I can be discouraged by the difficulty of staying at home with my three boys (it’s definitely not what I imagined), internally condemning myself for not doing everything as I had hoped and planned. But what a different perspective I would have (and blog I would be writing) if I wasn’t blessed by these three! What a completely different struggle I would be in!
I can be extremely critical of how I am arguably (by some standards) allowing my sons to fall slightly behind in their what-they-should-know-by-age-____, or I can continue striving to teach my sons the difference between right and wrong, the importance of a godly character, how to love others and the eternal and crucial importance of choosing Christ versus the world.