Misadventures of a Homeschooler - The Beginning

I think I will have to rename this blog "Misadventures of a Homeschooler" or "What Was I Thinking?" My daughter and I are on Day 3 of our new homeschool adventure. My dh, I'll refer to him as DrJ, (as a basketball fan, he LOVES this! However he is neither an MD nor a basketball player - at least not since knee surgery) and I decided on homeschooling after years of consideration. Many of my friends and relatives homeschool and I asked for their input on my decision. What I quickly learned was that everyone has their own idea about homeschool and their own style of teaching.

I must admit that I was confused about one method referred to as "unschooling". I thought that it must be some sort of traditional-school detox and I would need to set up an inhouse rehab center like you see on TV. Was my daughter going to need an IV drip of some solution called "Bully Busters"? Turns out, much to my relief, that "unschooling" is actually a teaching method where children learn by a more hands-on approach. No detox, whew!

What we (and I say "we" even though it is really "I", but I don't want DrJ to feel left out) decided was a more academic approach using lots of books and workbooks, but in a more relaxed and flexible setting. At least this is what I keep telling myself. And, so far it has worked. Of course, we are only on Day 3.

I am anticipating many battles, much frustration and I know that the few gray hairs that I do have will multiply rapidly. But at the same time my daughter and I are excited. She loves having school in her pjs and not having to raise her hand to get permission to use the restroom. We have decided that instead of just reading about things in books, we are going to go see them. Next week is the aquarium. I guess we really should get dressed for that one.

The Conformist

I have always been sucked into ideas put out there in society. A conformist if you will. I have believed that if I used a ThighMaster, my legs would look like they did when I was 16. There is a part of me that hopes that I can take a special pill, sit on my couch with a box of Little Debbies and a can of Diet Dr. Pepper, watch my favorite shows and still not only lose weight in six weeks, but also get buff and tan, too. I have drawers and cabinets full of potions, concoctions and appliances that society wants me to believe in, like Mighty Putty, Magic Bullet, Dent King, Ab Roller and Oxyclean (ok, that one really does work).

I believe all the things that my mother used to tell me. I don't sit too close to the TV for fear of going cross-eyed. I eat my carrots to make my eyes stronger (just in case I find myself sitting too close to the TV). I always hang the toilet paper so that it rolls over (not sure why this is important, but I do it anyway). I don't squeeze the toothpaste from the middle. And, I keep my elbows off the table.

I find myself watching reality tv and getting so emotional over people who are just wanting their five minutes of fame. I root for the underdog and boo (among other things) those that cause the trouble. Then I discuss them with my friends as if they are my next door neighbors.

I am constantly wondering why I nor anyone else I see in Wal-Mart look like the models on the boxes of hair dye, or in the make-up commercials or on the cover of the magazines at the checkout. (Okay, I realize that they probably don't shop at Wal-Mart, so maybe that is why I haven't seen anyone with their looks there.) But, I still keep buying the products and hoping that one day I will wake up to discover that I've lost 50lbs, grown 8 inches taller, and other parts of my body have miraculously corrected themselves, some have grown smaller while others have grown much bigger.

Yes, there are times when I can't take anymore and will watch the Classic Movie Channel with REAL movies starring people with names like Bogart, Bergman, Stewart, Poitier, and Hepburn.

I stopped watching soaps long ago. There was just too much drama and I couldn't keep up with who was with who or who had killed who or who was blackmailing who. But the breaking point came when one of my favorite characters, a little girl about six years old, left to go on vacation and came back the following week at the age of 19 and ready to take over the family business. I remember looking at my sons who were both still very little and thinking, "Maybe if I send you to Grandma's for the night, you'll come back fully potty trained and ready to start school." I tried it. It didn't work.

Yes, I have conformed to many of the things that society puts out there for us or that have been taught to us from an early age. However, yesterday I was a nonconformist. I broke a rule that had been instilled in me since childhood. A rule that passes from generation to generation in Americana.

I wore white AFTER Labor Day!

A Blog Virgin

Okay, I will be the first to admit that I am behind the times, this being my very first blog and all. In fact, it wasn't until my sister-in-law started sending me links to her blog that I understood what a blog was. Don't feel too sorry for me though, my husband still doesn't understanding this blogging thing. So after twelve attempts at a title that wasn't already being used, here I am a virgin blogger making my very small mark on the internet world.

Some may ask about the title of my blog. My only comment would be "Have you seen my house?". Oh I try not to be a mess, but apparently neatness just doesn't seem to work for me. In some aspects of my life I am quite organized, however these are few and far between. I own an iron, but don't use it (not sure I can find it). I burn every other dinner I attempt to prepare (although I'm pretty good at mac & cheese). I know nothing of car maintenance except that when the red hand points to "E" it's time to get gas. I've never used a lawn mower (thank goodness I have teen sons and a husband who considers it "relaxing"). I can't go outdoors in the Spring or Fall unless heavily medicated with allergy meds. Needless to say, I'm a mess. People have tried to cure me; my parents, husband, doctors, relatives, friends, etc. but to no avail. I am incurable. As a mom of three my life seems to be in constant chaos. I usually don't know where I'm going and sometimes I don't even know where I am. If it weren't for my recently acquired GPS, I'd still be driving around the back roads of Ohio trying to find my way out after a July 4th visit.

So starts my first blog. I am no longer a blog virgin. I will try to make my blogs interesting, but I'm not making any promises. All I can promise is that I will always be a mess.

Bren