The Heart of Homeschooling

I write a lot about the stuff of homeschooling.  I enjoy writing about the hands-on projects that we do.  I love them and I always have such fun pictures to share.  I love sharing about sewing projects, lapbooks, curriculum, organized school cabinets, workboxes, and progress in various school subjects.  I am much more Martha than Mary in my choice of blog topics and in my life in general.  My comfort zone involves busy hands and a list of things to accomplish. 

In the day-to-day busy-ness of our homeschool, it is sometimes easy to forget one of the main reasons I started homeschooling in the first place.  I started homeschooling because I am incredibly concerned about and dedicated to keeping the hearts of my children.  I don't often write about my children's hearts.  I'm more comfortable sharing pictures of the salt-dough brains my children made than talking about heart issues.

But, sometimes, the heart issues hit me square in the face and I know I've made the exact and perfect right decision for our family by keeping the kids home, by homeschooling them. 

My daughter looked up from her Algebra book the other day while I was washing dishes in the kitchen.  We were alone and she had something she wanted to share with me.  I listened because I was there.  Her words broke my heart.  She told me one of the girls at swim team said regarding my daughter's homeschooled status, "If I had to stay at home with my mother all day, I'd shoot myself in the head."  My daughter was a bit upset by the whole conversation and mumbled something about "her mother not being that bad." 

I wondered, was there a time when that girl actually liked being with her mother?  What caused the change in her heart?  Does her mother know how her teenage daughter feels?  What do we need to do to stay close with our daughters as the world pulls for their hearts from so many directions?

Then, just today, the heart issues punched me again and I staggered under the force of the punch.  I was in the basement cleaning up from the first part of a messy hands-on project.  I was also trying to pull myself together after a particularly difficult, confrontational conversation with my own mother.  My almost 12 year old-taller than me-always making silly comments son came down to see if I was coming up soon to make lunch. 

He saw me with my red face and asked if I was OK.  I couldn't hold back the tears any longer and he just hugged me, my bigger-than-me-not-quite-a-teen-boy, and told me in a voice that sounded so much like his father's, "It's OK, Mom, you'll be OK." 

I wondered, would he still have such a kind heart towards me if I had sent him away when he was all never-ending-wiggles-driving-me-crazy little boy?  Would he still have such a kind heart towards me if I had given up when I was sure that he was never going to be able to sit still for longer than 3 minutes at a time and I was sure that I had already lost my mind while we were doing math?  Perhaps, perhaps not.  Heart issues.

One thing I know for sure, to the very bottom of my own heart.  I know that when I am a very old woman sitting in a chair with a lap quilt reflecting on my life, I will never regret these busy days.  I will never regret the endless days and the piles of laundry and the grading and the messy projects and the bad attitudes and the good attitudes and the time that I spent with my children when their hearts were in my hands.