My sweet child,
When I look at you this morning my heart aches a bit. Today would have been the "big day"! Instead it is just another hot and humid August day filled with the mundane of life. Today is not the first day of school for you. You are not off to Kindergarten like most of your friends. No, today I will mourn just a little for the path we chose not to take.
How can I explain the many long hours of prayer and discussion we took to reach this decision. I know one day soon you will ask me that question - why? Why did we choose to homeschool? I hope you will be satisfied with our answer. It is a complicated one.
We chose to keep you home for school because we love you. Sometimes I love you so much it hurts. We want what is best for you, and this is what we think is best. When we first thought of sending you to Kindergarten, I knew I wasn't ready. You are more than ready. But me, well I wasn't ready to let you go.
We were not ready to only see you a few hours a day and on the weekends. We were not ready to have you separated from your brother and sisters all day. We were not ready to have other five year olds influence all your choices.
In the five years since you were born, you have been my constant companion. I had the great privilege of having you with me 95% of the time. Daddy and I make many sacrifices for me to be home with you and your siblings. Other than visiting your grandparents' house, you've never been to daycare or even mother's day out. For this season of my life, you are my job.
I enjoy spending my days with you. I love when you whisper little secrets in my ear and snuggle up next to me for a book. I love how you know what Lucy needs almost as fast as I do. I love how you are grumpy in the morning and don't want to be looked at until you are reconciled to being out of bed. Yes, some days are hard but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
You see, I want to continue on this journey with you. I want to be the one to see you finally recognize all the ABCs. I want to be there when you read your first book. I want to teach you all about God and Jesus and faith and love. I want see your smile when you figure out how money works and the phases of the moon and the bulb planted in fall will bloom in spring. I am selfish. I want those memories. I am not ready to let someone else share the wonder of learning, of reading, of writing with you. I want it to be me.
This choice will be hard for all of us. It will make you different. Most children are not homeschooled and people will ask silly questions. Our days will be long and filled with interruptions but I believe it will be worth it. I know you better than anyone. You have such a curiosity for life and I want you to pursue that. I want you to fall in love with learning. I want you to know what the words say in any book you choose.
And I hope one day you will forgive us - forgive us for keeping your world so small, for depriving you of the opportunity to make many more friends, for choosing to teach you amidst the laundry and the errands. I also hope one day you can thank us for giving you an extended childhood - one in which learning is done all day in many ways, where the day is not ruled by bells and schedules, where you only have to share the teacher with three others.
I mourned a bit for not taking the road more traveled today, but then I listened to you giggling at naptime with your sister when you were suppose to be sleeping and I knew we had made the right choice.
Love,
Mommy
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