why I'm doing "trial homeschool" this summer as an aspiring homeschool mom of 2

Photo by Ines Sayadi on Unsplash

Hi, I’m Sarah, and I’m an aspiring homeschool mom.

I know, that’s kind of a weird introduction.

You see, my whole story up to this point has essentially been a narrative of getting engaged, and then watching my life fall apart. At least, that is how it felt at the time. I share more of that backstory here, but since making the decision to follow Jesus in 2016 and becoming a mom in 2020, God has been beautifully rebuilding my life after a heavy period of burnout, placing Himself right at the center of it all.

The desire to homeschool has actually been tugging at my heart since my oldest was around two years old. (She is soon to be six and finishing kindergarten this week, which is an absolute “eek!” moment for me.) However, I never felt confident enough to actually do it. For most of my motherhood journey up to this point, I have just been trying to survive. Whenever I did attempt any kind of organized learning activity, it usually ended with both of us feeling incredibly frustrated. Back then, she seemed to do best with guided learning in a social setting, like her Mother’s Day Out program or Sunday school.

So, when it came time for kindergarten, we found a wonderful charter school that taught a structured, classical curriculum. Many of our friends with older kids attended, and it felt like the right move.

Honestly, I never thought I would be the person to seriously consider homeschooling. Even though I enjoyed my own time being homeschooled as a kid, I distinctly remember feeling a lot of resistance toward it because I was a preteen and felt like it wasn’t my choice. In retrospect, though, I had a lot of fun, received a great education, and made wonderful friends—one of whom is still my best friend to this day.

Initially, my desire to homeschool stemmed from a rigid belief that it was just something “good Christian moms” did. I assumed that if God ever brought us to that choice, it would be way further down the road. My oldest also has some sleep issues that we are still trying to get to the bottom of. It has gotten much better over the last year and a half, but in the beginning, the decision to put her in full-time school for kindergarten was heavily built upon the fact that I was still in such a delicate place mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

She also has a summer birthday. While we could have held her back and delayed her entrance into school, we thought kindergarten would be a good way to see how she handled the environment, and to discover if she needed any extra academic support, especially since both my husband and I have ADHD and my husband has dyslexia.

With so many of our friends at this particular charter school, combined with its structure and classical framework, it felt like a truly safe place for her first official year of school.

Reflecting on the Kindergarten Year

As we wrap up her last week of school with a celebration, I have been reflecting deeply on what went well this past year and what I would change if given the choice. Preparing our summer rhythms has me thinking about how far she has come, how far I have come, and how far my youngest has come. It has me dreaming about what it could look like to pursue homeschooling, not just for my oldest, but as a family lifestyle.

There is so much we enjoyed about this year. My oldest has developed a genuine love for learning, and her school was a wonderful incubator for that. She thrived in the structure, and I loved that it was completely screen-free. Between the classical curriculum and the expectations for discipline and conduct, she really rose to the occasion. Her teachers constantly praised her for being a kind friend and for always doing her best, even when she was struggling or feeling a little scared. It was incredibly sweet to see that, despite having 27 kids and two teachers in her class, she developed a good bond with both of them. The friendships she made were beautiful, and I even got to become friends with one of the other moms in her class.

The school shared many of the foundational values we hold as a family. While it isn’t a Christian school, their emphasis on character, discipline, and camaraderie meant the world to us. We care about so much more than just academic success.

The Hidden Hard Parts

At the same time, this year highlighted some major struggles for me, which became glaringly clear when I compared this year to the one before. The previous year, I had my oldest home with me, my youngest was in her first year of life, and the three of us had a beautiful, solid daily rhythm.

Looking back, I realize I just really missed my oldest. She was five when the school year started, and my youngest was a year and a half. This past year, it felt like we were constantly juggling conflicting rhythms between drop-offs, pick-ups, and the toddler’s nap time. We were desperately trying to squeeze in family time between the moment she got home and her bedtime. Because she worked so hard during the school day, she was going to bed much earlier as well. I missed her presence, and honestly, my youngest was much more restless without her big sister around. For some reason, when my oldest was at school, having one child felt like having two. When she was home, having both of them felt somehow easier.

I also struggled with the disconnect of not knowing exactly what was happening in her day. She would tell me snippets, but because she was so young, she had a hard time articulating the details. Sometimes I would talk to her teacher and realize my daughter had completely misunderstood an event from the week prior. It was hard not being a part of it. I would see pictures here and there, but I wasn’t *there*. At Mother’s Day Out, the hours were short and the communication was constant, which makes sense for preschool. But for someone as sentimental and sensitive as I am, it felt like she had this entire alternative life that I wasn’t a part of, and I didn’t handle that well lol.

Finding connection at the school was tough, too. I couldn’t volunteer the way I wanted to because I had a toddler who was no longer a portable baby. On top of that, my oldest didn’t even want me to visit for lunch or volunteer because it made her too sad to see me and not be able to go home with me. I loved her emotional awareness, but it absolutely gutted me.

I tried to use that time to take my youngest to mom’s groups and playdates, but it was an unexpected chance. I was trying to connect with moms but many had older kids to manage, or families with multiple kids who were heavily involved in extracurriculars and so were on different schedules. When I did find Bible studies that allowed children but didn’t provide childcare, my youngest, who is very sweet but also stubborn and sensory-seeking, would wander off to do her own thing. It ended up being more stressful than life-giving. I thought having my oldest in school would give me more time to connect and be a part of things, but it didn’t turn out that way.

And then, there were the car lines. I simply cannot do the car lines 😂. Her school manages them better than most, but the back-and-forth, combined with a toddler who hated being in the car for most of the year, was utterly overwhelming. By the time we got home, everyone was overstimulated and deregulated. It took an hour just to come down from the stress of the commute, and by then, it was practically bedtime. Those afternoon hours took so much more out of me than a regular day with both kids at home.

The Gift of the Past Year

Through it all, there was a beautiful silver lining: I got to enjoy so much focused time with my youngest. When I was pregnant with her, I felt immense guilt that I wouldn’t be able to give her the same one-on-one quality time I gave her sister. This year was a sweet remedy for that. I got to watch her grow, explore, and unfold her little personality.

It was also a season where I was given the grace to heal, be creative, and plug into this wonderful Substack community. Having that extra mental bandwidth because I wasn’t constantly regulating two children or mediating sisterly fights was a gift. When the youngest napped, I had more space to rest, pour into myself and my faith, and explore who I am in this current season. In many ways, this past year felt like the final step in the deep healing journey God started after my burnout eight years ago.

Now, I notice a shifting desire within myself. I want to have a direct hand not just in her education, but in her day-to-day life. She is in such a precious spot right now, possessing a fierce desire to learn and a fresh, tender faith in God. I want to steward that. I want to pour into it directly and watch her grow. She has a massive heart for helping, and she is becoming so wonderful at describing her feelings. While she truly loves her school and her friends, she has gently whispered to me that she would love to be home more, too.

As this chapter closes, I am holding both the gratitude for where we have been and the quiet excitement for where we might be going, trusting the One who is putting the pieces together 🫶🏼

Love,

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