I am sitting here all alone. Yes. Again. Only now it's daytime. This alone is normal. Only it isn't.
This is my year; the year I've been counting down to for ages. The year all three of my children would be in school all day. Finally time for me. Time to craft, to exercise, to learn an instrument and to sleep.
This is my year. But rather than do the things above I am wishing my babies were home. This morning I did not want to send them out of the house. I wanted to learn piano with Little. I wanted to help Middle start a writing project and I wanted to help the boy list items on Ebay. I wanted to let them sleep in and I wanted to feed them a wholesome breakfast. Instead I woke them and shoved them out the door.
Today I read a poignant essay about a boy who died at twenty. What if that were my son? All those years sending him to school when he could have been at home.
This is not to say I don't believe in education. I do. Strongly. But why have we contrived a society that so easily places our children under the care of others? Could not some of that education take place at home? Clearly it can. Thus the homeschooling revolution.
I wonder would I? Could I? If you'd asked me a year ago about homeschooling I'd have replied No Way, No How!
Now I'm not so sure. I've got grand plans for the summer. It's going to be my testing ground. From there we'll see how it goes.
In the meantime I'm sitting here, tears running down my cheeks, wishing my babies were home.
