I'm not a "real" teacher.... - Musings of a homeschool Mom

Blog or rant, you decide. I am not angry really but I am curious. Why am I not considered a "real" teacher? What parent isn't a teacher in some respect? Your baby didn't pop out of the womb walking and talking and eating with a fork. Your children weren't born saying "Yes sir/ma'am" and "No sir/ma'am" or pooping in the potty. I mean, really, we are all teachers in our own right. Even those of us who spend most of our time at work. We spend weekends carting our kids to zoos and telling them the names of animals and evenings showing them the ropes of cooking, etc. We read books to our kids, color with our kids, and along the way, those kids LEARN things from them. So what is a "real" teacher???

Teacher is defined as a person who teaches. Am I less respectable as a teacher because I teach at home? Is it because I don't have a teaching degree? I am not a teacher, as I have been well informed since becoming a homeschooling mom, so I don't know what a REAL teacher does. Here is what I do. If there are real teachers out there, let me know if I qualify.

1. Obsessively research, study, and read about all types of curriculum for all subjects and learning styles in order to choose that which best fits my children.

2. Purchase all required materials for the classes I have chosen for my daughter to take.

3. Provide my student and all other children and members of the family with three meals a day.

4. Plan weekly lessons from the curriculum I have chosen and try to plan projects and field trips around those lessons.

5. Teach those lessons.

6. Grade those lessons.

In addition, I find teaching moments in everyday activities. I care for my other children who are not old enough for school yet. I do my own school work. I manage my household. I plan outside activities with other children so I am not accused of not "socializing" my children. And, best of all, I face constant criticism for my choice to teach my own child.

While I watch all the non-homeschool friends post excited/heartbroken/nervous status messages about sending their kids off to school, I have taken on the 24/7/365 responsibility of teaching my child everything she needs to know morally and educationally to navigate this world. Yes, it is MY CHOICE. I fully understand that, I have mad respect for working parents who send their kids to school, I was one. I have respect for teachers who go everyday and teach unruly little monsters that they don't have to love because they don't share their blood. My gripe here is why am I not a "real" teacher? Where is the respect for me and those like me? Discuss among yourselves.

That is all.

Dear Sanity, Please come home.... Love, Me

I think it is a common misconception that since I homeschool I am some kind of super human mother. I think people probably think I do crafts with my kids, take grand adventures, use every opportunity as a teaching moment, my one year old knows his colors and letters, my house is always clean, and my family eats home cooked meals three times a day.

Well, anyone who knows me knows that this is false. Maybe the misconception is not so common. This annoyingly perky book sales person (first year college student, like um totally) came to my door yesterday. She was oozing sunshine on to my doorstep from the moment I opened the door. I told her I homeschooled my kids and she said "Wow, super mom". I couldn't help but laugh out loud. I was carefully concealing a living room covered in toys and dirty diapers with the front door and holding a bowl of pre-made muffing mix to go with my straight out of a box red beans and rice dinner. Super mom? I think maybe not.

So I let the poor lost soul come in because it was a billion degree outside, she had a very heavy book bag, and my boxed dinner was likely burning on the stove. I led her around the enormous mess on the floor in the living room, into the equally messy dining room. I told her to give me her sales pitch while I was spooning muffin mix please. She sat down at the kitchen table, which is covered in dried mashed potatoes. She sat down her back pack which my cat immediately jumped in to. She admired the human skeleton in the corner of the dining room (I'm sure this is where she started to re-think coming inside). She proceeded to tell me all about her wonderful books while Denton threw our sunscreen collection at her and sang babble in to a flashlight. She stepped on a bag of Cheezits on the floor ( oh I'm sorry, ma'am... you're sorry??), then she rested her arm on a half eaten dried up cheese stick. Sigh....

Her books were cool and I bought them. I think she deserved it. I even gave her a granola bar.

Today, I decided to do some yoga. I was in down dog when Denton decided to use my hair as a swing.

This is life around here. It ain't pretty! I am certainly no super-mom. I dig through a laundry basket and/or the dryer to dress myself everyday.

I don't really feel bad about it, I just wanted to set the record straight. I know you are all probably sitting around thinking you can never measure up to my momming.... I just want you to know I am human! HA!

That is all.

Heather

A String of Random Thoughts

I feel like writing something but have no clear vision for what to write. I am just sitting here watching the Mavs game. I guess I will further elaborate on my family since I didn't manage to work it in to the last blog. Obviously, most anyone reading this knows everything about us, but I have a sneaking suspicion they can't get enough of us, so it never hurts to give a little more info.

We are, for lack of a better term, a "blended" family, although most people would never know. Clint and I met, long ago on the first day of Kindergarten. I wish I could say our eyes met across the room and the rest was history, but that wouldn't be truthful. We didn't really become friends until after high school and through those 4 or 5 years, we got together and spoke regularly. Then blah blah blah, we got married. It is really a long and convoluted story, the moral of which is that we are married and we have a daughter (the blended aspect of the blend), a son, and a new little "broster" coming in November.

Now, to what makes us "weird". Firstly, my husband is a chiropractor. We believe in minimally invasive, natural, and alternative health care (GASP). Secondly, we home school our children (DOUBLE GASP) I never really thought I would ever be either of these things. My grandfather is a pharmacist after-all, so the thought that someone could overcome sickness with anything less than a bottle of pills is unthinkable, no? I was also fairly certain I would never be one of those home school weirdos with the fanny pack and the denim skirt, subjecting my child to the social status of a pariah. Well, I AM a home school mom, but in that I have also come to realize that home schoolers, at least the ones I know, are amazingly fashionable and unbelievably social!

Chiropractic is a subject for another day, when I can commit an entire post to how passionately I believe in the practice! But, here I will talk a little about our decision to home school. I know a lot of teachers, I do not want to, for even a second, discount the amount of dedication and work they put in to educating the children of America. That being said, they can only do so much given the fact that the "system" is completely and utterly broken. My daughter, a very good student who LOVED school, dutifully went off to that institution every day and came home with a brain FULL of knowledge. Sadly, with all the good knowledge she collected, she collected as much, if not more, bad knowledge. Did I ever think my Kinder would come home talking about vicious cliques? Did I ever imagine that my 7 year old would come home and tell me that boys in her class were "attracted" to each other and wanted to touch each others privates or that girls were in "serious relationships"?? The answer to that is NO! That, along with the fact that her teacher told me that she would excuse herself to the bathroom almost daily to cry. the fact that school was nothing more than a place to practice the TAKS test, and that we would be moving for the 5th time in her 4 years of school lead me to the decision to bring her home!

Thankfully, God provided us the ability to do this and my daughter was not only open to the suggestion, but thrilled. I am a terrible home school Mom. I am not artsy, I don't plan super fun unit lessons, I am not filled with patience and understanding. This has honestly been one of the hardest undertakings of my life, and I have thought about throwing in the towel at least a dozen times. At the end of the day, it is absolutely worth every tear and doubt. She is excelling in her studies, despite my best efforts, and she has a special bond with her little brother. I know it will only get better with time as we learn how to be a more efficient home school family.

Well, there is a little bit of what makes us "weird", now you know.

That is all.

Heather

What is Weird?

This is a blog. This is only a blog. If it were something more important, you would be receive further instructions.

So, my husband keeps telling me to write a blog. I think it is mostly because he figures if I write things down, I won't talk to him so much. It is a nice theory, and one I hope to prove wrong.

Since I don't really have anything to write about, I sat here typing in every random thought that popped in my head for about 10 minutes trying to come up with a name. I can't think of anything I could write about with passion on a semi-regular basis. I am not crafty or artsy. I don't use coupons, nor do I sew. I can't really come up with any particularly outstanding talent. I do have an uncanny ability to write with authority about subjects I know very little about. This ability has carried me through my college career. So, to make a long story longer, that is probably what I will do here. Write about nothing, brag and/or gripe about my awesome/terrible children and husband, and give you all an uncomfortably intimate view into my private life. That is the other problem I have, my internal filter has been malfunctioning for sometime so I have the tendency to say whatever I think.

What was I even talking about? Oh yeah, the blog. Okay so, the name stems from something I said to my husband the other day. We were talking about some weird people we know (yes it's you) and I said, "Well, I know we are weird too. But we are more weird on a normal level." So ta-da there's the name.

We are a little weird, and I was going to elaborate on that but I feel like this blog post has already been blabby enough, so maybe next time. I certainly hope you don't fall off the edge of your seat waiting for me to post again. If you do, remember to tuck and roll to avoid injury.

That is all.

Heather