Self-Doubt – Get out!

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“Junior is taking violin, Latin, and computer science this year,” your neighbor brags, “his teachers are marvelous. He couldn’t be happier.” You smile politely and walk away, but then it happens – self-doubt returns.

Self-doubt is a dangerous thing. It undermines our good intentions and sabotages our efforts. Doubt prevents us from seeing solutions. It prevents us from moving forward. And sadly, self-doubt prevents us from fully enjoying our homeschooling experience.

Every homeschooler suffers from periods of doubt. We worry that our children are not learning enough. We worry about sports, friendships, and handwriting. I was a master at this. Wanting the best for my children, I spent hours selecting a curriculum; only to fret that something better exists. I set up a schedule and changed it the next day. I wrote lesson plans I didn’t follow. I set goals I didn’t meet. In short, I wasted countless hours and let self-doubt drain my energy. Over and over again I questioned if my children be better off in school.

After homeschooling for nearly eight years, we moved from the city of Pittsburgh to a farm in Ohio, leaving behind our beloved support group, museums, and bookstores. We bought four horses, a puppy, and a handful of cats. I was thrilled; the picture perfect homeschooling environment. We had 40 acres, two ponds, and a menagerie of animals. What more could you ask for?

Yet, before long my excitement dwindled. Life on a farm is hard. Animals get sick: they needed care. Grass grows fast and puppies pee on the floor. Restoring a 150-year-old house also required more time and energy than I ever expected. In addition, I had three children to homeschool; three different grades, three different sets of needs. I was completely overwhelmed and quickly lost confidence.

I punished myself for not doing more, for not covering every subject, every day. Jon’s handwriting isn’t perfect. Kathryn’s spelling needs help, and Garrett is falling behind. Worse, I felt like I wasn’t working – at least not in the traditional sense. My job didn’t bring in a paycheck. I didn’t have a boss and didn’t need a wardrobe. I felt guilty. I am home all day, I reasoned. Why is dinner late again? Why can’t I get more done?

Frustrated and defeated, I enrolled my children in a small Christian school not far from our home. School started. The children were fine. But I was a miserable. What happened? Why had I failed? We moved to the farm intending to homeschool through high school, yet I had not lasted a year. For months I punished myself. It was my fault, my weakness, and my failure. I had let my children down.

As the year went on, I spent hours looking around our “empty” house. We had everything a school could want: books, microscopes, telescopes, and computers. We had educational posters, projects, and maps cluttering our walls. Sadly, the only thing missing was me.

In a typical public school there are separate teachers assigned to each grade, often to each subject. The cafeteria boasts a variety of staff. There are cooks, cleaning personal, and supervisors. The principle handles discipline; the bus drivers and janitors keep the system running smoothly. Homeschools, however, tend to operate with only one employee – a mom. And in our house, mom was exhausted.

Fortunately, as the months passed, I began to look less at myself and more at my children. Jon and Kathryn were placed in the highest reading groups. Both were in advanced math. Both had friends. Both received A’s on every report card. Jon had even been given a lead role in the Christmas play. And much to my surprise, he pulled off a solo in front of 300 people. Garrett, however, was not so fortunate. Kindergarten, for him, was disastrous. He struggled in reading, developed obnoxious behavior, and caught every virus that went through the school.

Sadly, it took placing my children in school for me to realize my mistake. Once enrolled, each child was immediately placed in a different grade, a separate classroom. There it took three teachers, each working full-time, to provide their education. Only then did it occur to me, that I too had been a working mom. In fact, I had been doing the job of three full-time professionals.

In retrospect that year was invaluable to me. It allowed me to see the results of my homeschooling effort. In subjects where I felt my expertise was lacking, I discovered that the schools are often no better prepared. I learned that I was being too hard on myself. I learned that some schools aren’t as great as they sound, to spite what my neighbor may think. Garrett’s experience taught me that homeschooling does matter.

As a result, I can honestly say that my worries about socialization, grade placement, and curriculum have vanished. Today I am much more relaxed. I am more confident, and so are my children. I will always be a homeschooler at heart, yet all three of my children have spent a year in school.

Foolishly many of us believe that homeschooling is about our children. We worry about selecting the proper curriculum. We struggle to provide our kids with social opportunities, friendships, and community service. We debate our decisions, question our progress, and critique our teaching skills. But homeschooling is also about you.

As homeschooling moms, we are clearly working moms. Yet, often our jobs are taken for granted; our needs are over looked. Learn to insist on help, occasional vacations, and frequent days off. Take care of yourself. Conquer your doubt. And most importantly, give yourself permission to be human, permission not to be perfect. No one woman can do it all and no good teacher’s union would let her try.

Ann Lloyd is the author of four books including: Tips and Tricks for Homeschooling Survival and Just ‘Til I Finish This Chapter…,. Tips, Quotes and Practical Advice for Nurturing Young Readers. She is a 10-year homeschooling veteran and the mother of three. Her work has been featured in Home Education, Practical Homeschooling, and Life Learning Magazines. For more information visit her website at: www.mereink.com.