Twitch, twitch. . .

Anyone who tells you that homeschooling is not stressful is lying, or they have perfect children, or they know everything about education, human beings, and the government red-tape that goes along with it. Or they have no idea what they are talking about.

I do not know how NOT to be overwhelmed at times at the choices and responsibilities I perceive are mine, being the sole provider of education to my children. Many, make that many, many, many times I have needed to deep breathe for a moment to avoid freaking out (anyone remember that scene in Jerry Macquire?), or collapsing in despair, or physically hurting myself or others: when it seems like all the wheels have come off at once and no one - and I mean not one person in the whole house - is doing remotely what they are supposed to be, including me; when the baby isn't napping so we can't do science; to when I shouldn't still be hiding in the bathroom pretending it will all go away. It is not a stretch to say that was a typical day not so many years ago.

Overwhelmed much? Oh, yeah.




I'm thankful to say we all lived through the chaos/bedlam/straightjacket years. Lived to tell the tales on a blog, commiserate with others, and to enter the "advise your children on life-altering decisions" phase.

A different sort of overwhelm - just as serious:
~Credits to graduate? Yeah, I think I remember what a credit is.
~Provincial exams? Oh, they don't do those anymore?
~You need a portfolio? What's a portfolio?
~You really, really should take a Science. I know you don't think you'll need it to XYZ, but you just should.
~No, I don't know how in the world you are going to get a second language credit.
~Graduating may not seem important now. . . but!!!
~I realize you don't want to finish this course, but it cost us $400 and untold amounts of planning. . .
~WHAT? You're 3 months behind in the first semester?!?!

Twitch. Twitch.

I know, I know, I'm not praying enough. I'm not trusting the Lord as I should. I need to put things in perspective by reading the Word. I know. Unfortunately, it's not only my children who are a work in progress. In my humanity, my weakness, my ability to see only darkly through the glass, these are weighty, stressful, important works over which I agonize - rightly or wrongly. It's not like I can blame the guidance counsellor...


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