There are times when homeschooling looks nothing like what I'd planned. Everyone’s caught the latest tummy bug, someone has a broken arm, I’ve got a migraine, we’re grieving a loss, the house is a mess, and I wonder how on earth we're going to catch up.
We've had our fair share of those seasons.
I remember the year we started homeschooling our eldest daughter. We were brand new, bright-eyed and overly eager! We also had a newborn and a 13-month-old which was tricky enough without my husband having an accident, leaving him with a concussion and a bunch of broken fingers. Simply getting through the day was already a challenge before that happened! Then there was our other daughter's random seizure. Our little boy needing surgery for hernias (twice!) and more recently, our seven-year-old breaking her elbow and needing 6 x-rays, an MRI and 2 surgeries. During one of her fracture clinic appointments, another daughter fainted during the elbow being recast. Oh, and did I mention I had the flu through all of this?
Honestly, I'm ready for a few boring months.
But something caught my attention while sitting in the post-surgery recovery room with my daughter recently.
We were there for around five hours, alongside several other mothers and their daughters, mostly around those tween years.
And it was surprisingly quiet.
The girls were on their iPads, the mothers were on their phones, and I barely heard a conversation between them the entire time.
Now, I don't say that with judgment. I've certainly handed my children a screen when I've needed a break, and after surgery is probably as good a time as any! Perhaps everyone was exhausted, or maybe I just happened to be in a particularly quiet room.
But I found it interesting that nobody seemed particularly bothered by the silence. They weren't ignoring each other or desperately seeking attention. They just seemed perfectly content sitting side by side, each in their own little world.
It got me thinking about our own family, and whether homeschooling has changed what feels normal to me.
Our house is rarely quiet. Someone's always talking, asking questions, telling me something I've already heard six times, or interrupting a conversation to ask what's for dinner.
And believe me, I don't always appreciate it! There are plenty of days when I'm overstimulated, impatient and wishing everyone would just give me five minutes of peace.
I'm certainly not the endlessly patient, attentive mother I'd like to be.
But sitting beside my daughter after surgery, I realised how accustomed we've become to simply talking to one another. About important things, silly things and absolutely nothing at all.
I wondered whether all those ordinary hours spent together through homeschooling have had more of an impact on our relationships than I'd realised.
Not that homeschooling guarantees close relationships, or that families who don't homeschool are missing something. I know plenty of wonderful, connected families whose children attend school.
It was simply a thought that crossed my mind.
And perhaps that's one of the unexpected gifts of homeschooling. Not the perfectly completed lessons or the lovely projects we sometimes manage to pull off, but the sheer amount of ordinary life we share.
Even the difficult bits.
Because when sickness hits our house, homeschooling usually takes a back seat. I wish I could say we always find creative ways to keep learning, but sometimes we don't. Sometimes we watch too much television, eat cereal for dinner and do very little schoolwork.
Sometimes I feel guilty about it too.
But I've been reminded lately that those weeks aren't necessarily wasted. Our children are learning about caring for one another, coping when plans fall apart and getting through difficult situations together.
And I'm learning too. Mostly that I can't do everything, and that perhaps I was never supposed to.
The maths books will still be there when we're ready. The spelling lists aren't going anywhere.
I don't have homeschooling all figured out. Some weeks I'm organised, others I'm just trying to remember which child needs to be where and whether coffee and chocolate count as a well-balanced meal choice (don’t judge - I know you’ve been there).
But I'm grateful for the flexibility it gives us, particularly when life gets messy.
And after another week of hospitals, broken bones and unexpected drama, I'm reminded that maybe the most valuable part of homeschooling isn't always what we're teaching our children.
Sometimes it's simply the time we're spending with them.
Now, if we could just make it through the rest of the year without another hospital visit, that would be lovely.
