Last year my youngest went to kindergarten. They were now all in school--I had time to myself for the first time in 11 years. It was....incredible. My life was calming down, I could breathe, hear myself think, meet a friend for lunch, spend time with my mom, and even go grocery shopping during the day by myself. Any stay-at-home mom knows how these are all luxuries.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, God put on my heart to take them out of school and homeschool them. All three of them. How could I do that? Why would anyone do that? To themselves or their kids?! But, you really can't argue with God. So, to the computer I went. Spending hours of research on the topic of why and how to even get started. I read many books and talked with the few people I knew who were avid homeschoolers.
Curriculum...seriously I couldn't even spell that word when I began typing it in the google search (didn't really boost my confidence in my abilities as a teacher)--there must be a million different ones all with different methods. A common question from books and the friends who helped me, "How does your child best learn?" This stumped me since I had never really taught them anything, they learned it at school right? The only thing I'd ever done was help with homework, which if these agonizing afternoon sessions were any indication of what my life would be like, was enough to shut the whole thing down. After months of researching, I picked out everything I would use for the Fall. School let out in June, we said good-bye to our schools (apparently all you need to do in Texas is send an e-mail letting them know) and the boys said good-bye to their friends.
As we told family and friends of our decision, there were many questions: What will your day look like? How long will school last? How will they make friends? My sweet, teacher sister-in-law asked me questions the whole 3 hour ride to our family vacation. I didn't sleep for a week. I didn't have any of the answers anyone asked! I joined a homeschool support group during the Summer. As people heard my story, they would say "You are starting with 3? All 3?" Yes, I was. I didn't start with just the oldest and then add them as they came up. All 3 at the very same time.
Our first official day was August 1st (it was too hot to be outside anyway). We have had good weeks and bad weeks. They've cried and I've cried. But one day as I sat on our living room floor and all 4 of us were making flowers out of clay-- and not just flowers but flowers with all of the boy and girl parts-- I realized how cool my kids are, how kind, helpful and encouraging they were to each other and to me. How they all love science and are awesome at making clay flowers. I've discovered my youngest only likes non-fiction books and my older two are great writers. The middle one rocks at making comics and the oldest can do fractions in his head (causing me great stress as I can't see what is in his head). I'm getting to see into their little minds like I haven't before and it feels....well, pretty amazing:)
It's been 5, maybe 6 weeks since she's been gone yet the sadness (and yes sometimes tears) still hits. She was a part of our family for almost 14 years and to have her suddenly gone is just....weird. She came into our lives when we were somewhat newly-weds living in a tiny apartment in a new city. She was there when we welcomed our firstborn into our family, moved into our first house, brought home two more babies and eventually another dog. 
Our sweet Sammy Sue. After years of wanting a dog, Bryan came upon a basket of puppies and picked her out of the lot. Other than the usual puppy antics she was easy to train and quickly learned to appreciate afternoon naps curled up next to me. She wasn't super fond of kids, but she tolerated the boys and even let them dress her in various hats, blankets as capes, bunny ears and even Mr. Potato Head glasses and hat. When set in her ways as a 10 year old, she showed the new dog who was boss, even though he eventually outweighed her by 50 pounds. She loved to go to my parents' cabin and sit on the porch, especially if my mom was sharing her toast. She was allowed on the furniture and if you were in her spot she would stare at you until you moved. She managed to be in every family picture taken, even if was just her head or tail. She was always right next to me at night and right next to me when I cooked. Most importantly, she was always happy to see me when I came home or just came in the room. She was a good dog.
