Lost in translation.

I feel like our days don’t blog well at the moment; i don’t get time to pontificate the way i’d like to, or write meaningful posts about what we do, or why, or how and how it relates to my parenting, or my view of HE and how it has changed over 4, nearly 5 years. But i’d like to, because it is all there in my head.

So you’ll have to forgive the lists of facts that make it sound like i run a table orientated school here because really it isn’t like that. In fact, mostly when i blog that we’ve done x number of worksheets on fractions, or this or that, it is because i’m trying to remind myself that i’m doing a meaningful job here and that by and large the children are learning things, sometimes haphazardly but at least cheerfully, given i never force anyone. I remind myself that 5 years on we’ve achieved a measure of dilligence about HE that pleases me and the children thrive on and makes me feel that we are setting groundings for future years of application. It reminds me that with a bit of thought i can give 4 children and a thriving business enough time, just about, and that everyone is happy and employed and loved.

What i forget to blog is the conversations these days, though they happen all the time and are, in my opinion, the best thing about HE. That yesterday while reading the story of Augustine and the fair haired slave boys, we ended up talking about the worldwide gene pool and its effect on the number of blonde haired people, or that Amelie is fascinated by the how and why of everything and that i try to always answer. That she can manage her sister into a parcel processing production line, put a dvd on, watches Jolly Phonics, entertains herself happily for hours. I forget to write about the effort Fran puts into making my day easier, pouring drinks, tidying under the table, making cross sisters friends again, coming to give me a hug and a kiss. I forget to say again and again how far Maddy has come in life already and how impressed i am by the thoughtful and self motivated way she runs her life. Or that both big girls can finally get everyone including themselves and their gear, ready for one of their evening activities, without me asking 20 times. I forgot to mention they bought milk and cereal on their own every day at camp, forget to say that they can navigate across a school and get themselves to a class now while i follow more slowly with the others.

I forget to remember just how normal and ordinary everyday life is for these Home Educated children and how proud i am for the girls they are. How much i look at them in awe for being just “typical” and not flinchingly different because they don’t go to school. I’ve ceased to be awed by their friendship circle and the effortless way they all socialise; it is just so normal now to see them do that.

And when i list stuff we did at the table, or books we read, i’m actually just reminding myself that i’m bloody impressed that the most maths phobic person i ever met is competently teaching her children to like and be good at maths, that reading and writing is happening, that they have long or fleeting interests in all manner of things and that they are open to so much new and varied knowledge, whenever it is offered.

It took a long time to find my niche and be comfortable with how i wanted HE to be, but i know for absolute certain that even if it doesn’t have a name, i’m very happy with it, even if i know i’ll tweak it a million more times over the next 5 years.

But that is okay, because hopefully i’ve got plenty of 5 years’s to tweak in 🙂