In spite of the many articles and studies either already published or eagerly awaited, attesting to the normal social and academic development of homeschooled children, I still occasionally find myself worrying about the whole damn thing. Like, what if all those studies are utter crap, and this whole thing I’ve gotten myself into is really some sort of weird psychological disorder of mine, in which I simply CANNOT let go of my children. What if it’s that?
Usually, I begin to worry after a few weeks in which we are off schedule and grumpy and things aren’t going as smoothly as I would like.
But then, last week, I sat in a room with a bunch of women of various ages and listened as one of them told a story of how her family had moved to a new town and how the children at her new school treated her. How awful it was. Those children were cruel, she said. And after that, another woman told a story of her own school experiences, and how her peers tormented her for years just because she was tall. And then another woman began to speak. And another. And another. And, God help us, another.
And more than half of these women then told stories of turning to drugs, or developing eating disorders, simply to cope with school.
And then on the news, I saw that 14-year-old boy’s arsenal and listened to his plans for that high school that isn’t so far from where we live right now, and then I saw that there’s a school out there that feels the need to distribute birth control pills to sixth graders, and then I just stopped watching the news for a while, because there’s only so much one can take.
And then, after all that, we managed to have a very good week of schooling at home, and I realized that it’s okay. I’m okay, and the kids are okay, and while I may not be the perfect homeschooler, and my kids may not emerge from their homeschool experience 100% well-adjusted, in the end, they’ll be okay. Whatever hangups they acquire, public school is just not the answer.
And for about 3 days now, I’ve been able to avoid the worry. Maybe it’s because we’ve started our mornings this week snuggling together on the sofa under blankets, giggling with each other and waving to RegularDad as he drives off to work. Maybe it’s because I’m spending more time just reading to the kids and letting them color with the “good” markers while I read stories of the Trojan War and life in ancient Greece.
Or maybe it’s just because when Mom stops worrying, everybody stops worrying.

