Hello Beautiful Souls, ✨💛
Today I wanted to share with you my experience with homeschooling, which also explains why I haven’t been sharing as much on my blog or on my Facebook page as I did in 2018.
Since March 2019, all schools are closed in Mexico and are only slowly reopening at this time, but not in my state because of an increased in COVID cases. We had no choice but to switch to on-line classes and while the school has been great in helping the teachers to make the switch, and helping the kids get the hang of it, and helping the parents become at-home teachers, it was still less than ideal.
I wrote this blogpost as cathartis (you know I am all about transmutation, clearing out your old patterns), a story of resilience and adaptation, finding balance and setting boundaries, bringing the family close together … maybe a little bit too close. I was told this story is very funny but also very real.
I believe there is something good in every challenge that comes your way and there is a lot of humor too. And if you feel you are not strong enough, clueless, or feel like falling on the floor weeping, remember that you are not alone: your Angels & spiritual guides at at your side always, and other humans had probably already a similar challenge they had to go through and could be your guide in passing through your own.
So if you’d like to enjoy a little piece of my (our) life, here it is:
Homeschooling was great, can it be over now?
When I was 10 years old, my mom, a K-2 teacher in a small village in Normandy, told me that I would be an excellent teacher when I grew up. I didn’t have school that day so she had me come to her class and help her “teach” her students. It was not the first time and I liked being in her class amongst the 3-4 years old and supervising. It made me feel important.
“Teaching might be your calling.”, my mom prophetized, “It’s in your blood!”
I was so happy to share something with my mom, something I admired and loved about her: she was a good and beloved teacher. I also knew she was wrong and I would never become a teacher. I knew I loved kids but I loved being a kid with the kids, not the responsible adult who patiently explains and re-explains, reminds the rules, corrects, and grades their hard work.
So when the pandemic hit and my K-2 and 2nd grade kids’ classes went online, I wondered if this had to do with karma.
At first, all the moms in my moms’ school group agreed: it was better to keep the kids safely at home, to do our best to help them learn, and to support the school in getting the classes online rather than to send our kids to school with facemasks, anxiety butterflies in the stomach, and having to tell them off whenever they tried to do something so natural as to hug a friend, share their lunch, or sit together.
We all knew it was the best solution for the next three months. We would do our best, kids would learn what they could and would level up when back in class.
But the three months became six months, and then “At the end of the school year!”, “Sorry! We meant the other school year!”, or “Next week!”, “Just kidding! But definitely sometimes soon.”, or “Whenever, we are not hurry!”, “Maybe when pigs can fly, and also cows!”, or “ When hens have teeth.”, or “À la Saint Glinglin!” …
Who knows?
So after a broken MacBook (water on the keyboard), a broken office chair (was stabbed repeatedly with a pair of scissors), an asthmatic printer (from printing 10+ color pages a week), I am a very exhausted, anxious mom. And I am not alone.
Our fears of facemasks and social distancing have been replaced by the fear that the kids are getting behind. And the fear of the microphone being open and the whole class hearing some family secret, or us yelling at one kid, or the toilet flush, or else …
The fear that we don’t have the material ready for K-3, that’s something is missing, or worse, that we didn’t understand the email and prepared the wrong material. And the fear that comes in when we realize that glitter and confetti will be used in class.
The fear that water, or any other liquid, will be spread on the computer, or flour, or paint.
I tried explaining my husband that it would take less than 3 seconds for our son to flip the computer and show his whole K-3 class how lovely his papa looks in the morning, wearing only his underwear, in the kitchen preparing coffee …
My husband doesn’t believe me. He likes to live his life dangerously.
Our privacy has been invaded. My free time has been reduced to nothing …
I vaguely remember before the pandemic how I used to sit quietly in the morning, meditating with my cat … No more! Now I log, on Teams, with my kid and re-do K-3 all over again! (My cat still meditates.)
Now I wake-up with the “good morning” song playing in my head.
It will stay with me the whole day, following me around while I cook and clean, and walk in the park. It will stay with me the whole week until the teacher switches song on the next Monday morning. Then my brain will learn a new “good morning” song!
Now, I sit still from 9 to 12:00. I am not supposed to be in class but I am also supposed to help my kid with the computer, or the activity, or finding the correct material, and do high-fives, or give a hug when required. It’s hard to be there and not there at the same time.
Sometimes I have to be at three places at once: helping the Kindergartener with his activity, helping the 3rd grader who suddenly has internet problems, and see what my husband -who is now working from home- wants to tell me that seems so urgent.
The 30-minutes recess break is a rush between cooking breakfast for me and snacks for the kids, do a laundry, think about lunch, help the other kid who doesn’t have recess at the same time, answer some emails, and maybe have a coffee.
Then, after school I cook lunch and make sure the other kid is still in class since he finishes 1 hour later. After lunch I might have a break but I also need to check what homework needs to be done, prepare the material for the next class, get the kids outside, try to keep the kids quiet when we are back in because the husband is in a meeting …
Finally at the end of the day, I may have a little time to myself, to meditate … alone, because the cat is too busy hunting for geckos.
It’s not all bad though …
If anything, the pandemic has brought the family closer together … like really close … in a small house, 24/7, with no escape outside …
My kids have become best friends to each other and we have saved money on gas.
I love how my 3rd grader adapted so well to his classes on-line. “It’s exactly the same like the normal class.”, he told me. He was speaking about continuity and that the teacher was following the same routine, with the same books, and the same kind exercise. He learnt how to navigate Teams, Google, Word, PowerPoint, and Excel so fast. I loved how his teachers did their absolute best to make the transition easy, explained the pandemic without worrying him, and helped him pass his class. I loved how he was able to learn the 2nd and 3rd grade curriculum despite all the crazy going on.
I love to see how the little brain of my K-3 kindergartener works and see the lightbulb over his head when he suddenly understands something. I love how enthusiastic he gets when he learns something new that passionate him: viruses, volcanoes, marine life, or safety rules … I love to see his artworks, even if it involves glitter and confetti! I love to know everything that happens in school, because I was there, with him. Before my “How was school? What did you do?” would always get the same answer “I don’t know!”.
I love how the cat decided to get involved and now goes to class with the kids. She probably thinks of herself as an indispensable, emotional support animal.
I love how the kids can see their Papa at recess instead of late at night just before falling asleep.
I love how our family dynamic has evolved to adapt to homeschooling, and yet I want it to be over …
There is a reason why I am not a teacher, and there is a reason why I normally don’t homeschool my kids. I want to leave it to the professionals, like the 3rd grade Spanish teacher who was once interrupted 20 times while trying to give instructions to the class, only to be interrupted again, once he managed to speak, by a little girl wanting to let him know that there were only 10 minutes left before the end of class. I would never be as patient. Sorry mom but it’s the truth.
Hopefully, next school year, the kids will be back in school, far away from me from 7:30 til 14:00 or maybe more, they will learn the way there are supposed to, the printer will take a break, the cat and I will once again meditate together, the moms in my moms’ school group will be more relaxed, and maybe we can all share a hug reminiscing of how hard K-3 was for us. My brain will no longer sing me “good morning” songs, and I will have my privacy again!
…
Wait …
My husband just told me that he has decided: when the pandemic is over and the kids are back in school, he still wants to work from home.
Never mind!
PS: If you also had a hard time with homeschooling your kids, second-guessing yourself as a teacher, worrying about their lack of social interactions, their mental health, etc., I am sending you my loving compassion and Love & Light. 🤲🏻✨💛
If you had fun, thank you. I love when someone enjoy what I write. 😄🙏🏼
If you understand my need for coffee, consider sending me a Ko-Fi ☕️: https://ko-fi.com/gretta