Last week I talked about the encouragement I received from Tua, announcing his gratitude to “his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.” We go from that to this week, hearing about parents with thirteen kids, who chained their kids to the bed. As soon as I heard that, I panicked. I said over and over in my head, “please don’t say they’re homeschoolers, please don’t say they’re homeschoolers, please don’t say they’re homeschoolers.” And then, against my wishful thinking, the news comes out with the fact that this family supposedly “homeschooled” their kids. I put the word homeschooled in parenthesis, because clearly they WERE NOT homeschooling their kids.

C’mon people! C’mon FAKE NEWS! This family wasn’t homeschooling their kids. That’s not what homeschooling looks like! Homeschoolers don’t chain up their kids to beds. They don’t starve their children. They don’t abuse them in any way shape or form. Families that homeschool, love their children. These people (and I use that term loosely) used the term homeschool to hide their demonic activities and torture of their children. They abused the term, just like they abused their children. What they did to their kids was unconscionable. (How do you like that fifty cent word?)

Real homeschoolers, give up so much of our lives to homeschool. We mothers, most mothers are the homeschoolers, give up our free time, our education and money to homeschool our kids. It’s a sacrifice, but so worth it.

Many homeschool families are Christians. We, who homeschool, seek to honor God with our education. We want our kids to know God, to love God, to serve God. People (the media) need to separate out the demons from the rest of us. These abusive people clearly have some serious mental problems, to treat their children this way. But just because these people used the term “homeschooling,” doesn’t mean they were actually homeschooling. They weren’t.

Quit saying these people homeschooled. Stop it, NOW! These were two mentally disturbed individuals, who tortured their offspring. Just because you say it, doesn’t make it true. I could declare all day long that I’m the Queen of Sheba. But when I look at my bank account and my raggedy shorts, I know clearly, I am not the Queen of Sheba. My empty bank account attests to this. My raggedy shorts, attests to this.

I am trying to start a narrative that is true and right. These monsters who had thirteen children were not homeschooling. If someone asks you about this bit of news and they throw in the word, homeschooling, stop them right there. Correct them and tell them, these people were not homeschooling their kids. That’s not what homeschooling looks like.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, we homeschoolers have some bad days. But the only things that have ever gotten chained up in our house are, maybe, our bikes. I wouldn’t wait for the kids to only shower once a year. That’s just plain gross. They can go, maybe two days. Then there needs to be some body scrubbing done right quick with something resembling soap.

As far as feeding goes, my son is almost 6′ 4″. He didn’t get that way through starvation.

All kidding aside, media, please stop saying these people homeschooled their children. They tortured their children, but they didn’t homeschool them. I, as a homeschooling mom, ask you to stop using that word when talking about those monsters.

I just graduated my daughter from our homeschool. She now attends college at the nearby community college. It’s been an adjustment having her leave the house four days a week. I’m now stuck at home with a six three walking stomach. He eats everything in the house. I have two years with the walking stomach and then I’m free! What ever will I do with myself?

This has been a long road, staying home with my kids. I was never going to stay home with my kids. I spent too much money on a master’s degree. What would I do all day with those little people? And I certainly wasn’t going to homeschool my kids. What are you crazy? But I did all of that and I lived to tell about it.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, I was terrified at the idea of staying home. My feminist indoctrination was telling me it wasn’t okay. I would be subhuman if I did. I remember being two months away from delivery and meeting some new ladies that were friends of a friend of mine. One woman asked me when I was due. My feminist brain heard “what do you do?” I started telling her all about my job and she shook her head and said, “No, when are you due?” Oh, you mean this bulging belly I have? I was a little embarrassed.

My decision to stay home wasn’t an easy one. Financially, it was so tight. I had a food budget of $60/week. That was it. I couldn’t spend more than that. If I went over, then I would have to take from the following week. Fortunately, my daughter was a baby and my six three stomach wasn’t born yet.

It took me awhile to get used to staying home. I had maternity leave, so I kept telling people I was still working. I was still on maternity leave. However the count down began for me to return to work.

On my maternity leave, I started really enjoying this little person in my life. She grew those chubby little thighs that you just want to squish and little rings of chub around her wrists. Some hair was starting to grow on her bald little head. She did funny things like chew on her toes. I marveled at her flexibility. She took naps and slept through the night by nine weeks. I could go to the grocery store in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week and not have to rush around on the weekends. I could do laundry in the middle of the week. I was beginning to really enjoy this chubbed out little person and the flexibility in my schedule.

The time came for me to go back to work and a voice in my head said no. The voice reminded me that I was going to be okay and the little chubby baby in the crib needed me. I wasn’t sure about this. What would I tell people I did? I’m a mom! Anybody could be a mom. I had a master’s degree. The voice was persistent for me to stay home. But what would I be? Just a mother? I needed to be okay.

When God asks you to do things, He doesn’t leave you high and dry to muddle through it all by yourself. I can’t tell you how many times I walked into the laundry room, in the middle of the week, late in the morning with a load of wash and felt this peace overcome me. Or times, when we needed money and money just showed up somehow, someway. Over and over again, God spoke to me to tell me I was okay.

I remember a particularly bad day potty training. I was trying all day and it wasn’t working. I was ready to pull my hair out. Well that evening I had signed up for a free haircut from the Penny Saver. When I left my toddler with the husband I sighed a big sigh of relief and headed to the salon for my free haircut. Well this wasn’t just any free haircut, this was a haircut to beat all other haircuts. The lady that did my hair already knew how to cut hair, she was being trained by this exclusive salon to really learn how to style hair. She was late coming, so the guy that was training her had this makeup line. He said he’d play while we waited for her. I ended up with a free makeover and haircut. After a day of trying to convince a stubborn toddler that she needed to pee in the potty, I got a treat for myself. I went home that night feeling pretty and the potty training long gone from my mind.

Follow the voice in your head. If you are a Christian, it’s the Holy Spirit. He will never steer you wrong. And He will totally reward you for your obedience.

Since a new school year has started, I thought I would repost this article I wrote about homeschooling. I hope it encourages you, especially if you homeschool.

 

I knew of Sarah Palin long before she came on the world scene. She was governor of Alaska in 2007, and I’m from Alaska. Now don’t get me wrong, I really like her. I like her politics and I like her as a person. I also LOVE my mother. She and I are best friends. So you have that straight in your head before you continue reading.

Back in 2007, my mom came to stay with me for a couple of months. Dad said it was because she needed to warm up a bit in the Californian sun. Well mom came down and she was all about Sarah Palin. Sarah Palin was governor of Alaska! Sarah Palin was the first female governor of Alaska. She has four kids…and she’s governor of Alaska! She’s married to Todd Palin (who I knew of, growing up in Dillingham). She’s a mom AND governor of Alaska! She’s a real go-getter!

I heard EVERYTHING about Sarah Palin. Not only was she governor, but she was so down to earth. She fired the chef when she got into the Governor’s mansion. She sold the plane, the last governor bought. She’s shaking things up in Alaska.

I heard these comments over and over again, while I dragged around in my raggedy shorts and shirt (my home schooling uniform). I heard about Sarah Palin, while I sat down to read with my kids. My mom would say, “Do you know Sarah Palin walks her kids to the school bus everyday…and she’s governor of Alaska!” I was starting to resent Sarah Palin. I had only two kids, not four. I wasn’t governor over anything, except maybe my little kingdom at home. I wasn’t going to be governor of anything and I was in this home schooling gig for the long haul. That meant my raggedy shorts and me were going to drag around the house for quite some time.

I was starting to get discouraged about home schooling my kids. I have a Master’s degree that I wasn’t using. Almost everyone I knew was sending their kids to public school. Why was I making all these sacrifices for my children? How come I wasn’t governor over anything? Was it worth it?

I was really resenting Sarah Palin…the governor of Alaska! So I started attacking this person who I was being compared to. “Yeah, she walks her kids to the school bus everyday…but that’s it. Big deal. She’s not doing the hard work of schooling them!” Like me in my raggedy shorts. “She’s not parenting, she has a big job of governor of Alaska…she can’t do it all.”

I got my licks in a few times, but I didn’t feel any better about myself and my raggedy shorts. So I got discouraged. Really discouraged. And then I prayed. What I always do when I need help. I prayed to God and asked Him why I was doing this. What was the point? I’m not governor of anything. I just drag around in my raggedy  shorts schooling my children. Really, did I need to do this?

And God answered me (like He always does). My mom was gone and I sat down on the couch (in my raggedy shorts) to read to my children. They were sitting on either side of me. I was reading the Bible and the story of Saul and David. I know my children well, so I was pulling out descriptions of Saul and David to crystalize the story for my kids. I know what appealed to my son and what appealed to my daughter. As I was talking to my kids…God spoke to me in my head, “Wendy, nobody will do this, but you.” WHAT?!? “Nobody will do this, but you.”

Thoughts formed in my head. Ohhhh! “You can’t pay anyone to teach your kids like this. Nobody will do this, but you.” No one would volunteer to care as deeply for your children as you do. “Nobody will do this, but you.” It was a revelation. I can’t be governor of anything because, “Nobody will do this, but you.” I can’t go get a big job because, “Nobody will do this, but you.” I couldn’t pay anyone to do what I did as a mother of my two kids. And though, sitting on the couch, reading to my kids the story of David and Saul may seem insignificant, God apparently didn’t. He asked me to home school my kids a long time ago. And I simply obeyed. He knew my discouragement. He knew my anger. He knew it all, so He simply reminded me, “Wendy, nobody will do this, but you.”

 

I love irony. There it is. I let that cat out of the bag. I…love…irony. I tell you this, because I have an ironic tale to tell you.

My daughter has been celebrating all this past week, her graduation from high school. As part of their celebration, she and her class took a trip on a boat to Catalina. Now these are all homeschoolers mind you. You know the ones, whose parents teach them at home. Those ones who teach their children about God and Jesus and also how to read and write. Well, off went my daughter with twenty-four of her graduating class from our school. Most of them were wearing their class t-shirts and sweatshirts, which proudly bore our school name which has “Christian” in the name and a verse: Psalms 62:1-2.

For God alone my soul waits in silence: from Him comes my salvation. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress: I shall not be greatly shaken.

On the way to Catalina, my daughter and several of the other girls overheard a conversation. Two women were talking and here’s what they said:

Woman 1: “Why do Christians judge gays? They were just born that way?”

Woman 2: “Yeah, these Christians are too judgemental.”

Woman 1: “Those f**king Christians!”

Woman 2: “Yeah, they’re too self righteous!”

Woman 1: “Those f**king Christians!”

These women were not aware of the f**king Christians sitting behind them overhearing their conversation. They were not aware of the huge group of f**king Christian homeschoolers who just heard everything they just said. Most of the kids in my daughter’s class are not used to that kind of language.

As they docked at Catalina, the women had finished cursing Christians. Woman 1 turns to Woman 2 and says,”Hey let’s take a picture of these cool kids on the boat!”

Yes, those cool kids they were referring to were the same kids who were literally wearing their Christianity on their shirts. The same kids who were being cursed about. The same kids who had Psalms 62:1-2 written on their shirts that included the words: Christian, God, Him, salvation, my rock, my salvation. Yep, those were the cool kids they wanted to take a picture of.

And that my friends is what you call irony!

 

To quote Woody Allen, 80% of success is just showing up. I know, can you believe I’m quoting Woody Allen on a Christian blog? What am I? Crazy? (Yeah, pretty much). But just think about it for a moment-80% of success is just showing up.

I’m thinking about this quote a lot today. My daughter just graduated today. She graduated with twenty-five other homeschoolers. Each of them had to give a speech or showcase some talent they had like: singing, playing the piano, dancing, playing the guitar, or tumbling. My daughter opted for the speech giving route. She could have tried piano or dancing, but seeing how she doesn’t do those things it would pretty much embarrass her and cause my husband to disown me, so speech it was! She gave her speech and did a pretty good job of it. But I’m here to talk about me, so why the Woody Allen quote?

I look back at our homeschool years and think...we didn’t do anything earth shattering. We didn’t move mountains. I was never elected mother of the year for anything. My daughter is not perfect. I’m not perfect. Was I successful as a mother and a teacher to my kid? Well if 80% of success was just showing up, maybe I was.

I was there, when I realized she was having difficulty learning how to read. I was there when her brother shoved her on the bed and she split open the back of her head and needed stitches. (I was there to tell her it wasn’t that bad and to throw her in the tub and discover how wrong I was). I was there when she refused to learn how to ride her bike, until her brother showed her up and started riding before her. I was there when I took her to swim lessons and she ran screaming to the corner by the pool to get away from the mean swim teacher. I was there every stinkin day when she refused to learn math, crying at every problem. I was there when we read Charlotte’s Web together and cried together when Charlotte died in the end. (Hopefully, I didn’t spoil the ending for you). I was there when she refused to eat her peas, so I saved them for her, for the next day. I was there when she was learning to potty train and held it in for so long, she literally exploded with pee all over the carpet in our office. I was there when she ate too much popcorn on Christmas Eve and threw up during the Christmas Eve service. (I know I was there because I tried to catch it before it went all over the floor-those things we don’t forget). I was there for her first step, her first word, her first new food, her first crush, her first disappointment. Everything, I was always there. Day in and day out, I was there.

We never did anything perfect. But I was always there. They, whoever they are, are saying there’s no such thing as quality time anymore. It’s quantity. Lot’s of time with your kids. I like that, because I certainly can’t say we had many stellar days. If I was being rated for the amount of quality activities we did, I wouldn’t score very high. But quantity. Now that I can do. I was always there. Sometimes I wished I wasn’t there. Many days I didn’t want to be called “Mom” anymore. Sometimes I wished I didn’t know how bad my kid was at math. (You know, ignorance is bliss). But I was always there.

My kid still doesn’t do math well. Finding shoes in our home is like climbing Mt. Everest-it’s really, really hard to do. We don’t dance around here. Not because we’re against it, but because we’re really bad at it. My kid doesn’t play a musical instrument. She can’t sing. None of us in the family can. But through all of her years I was there, all the time.

So I comfort myself in the Woody Allen quote-80% of success, is just showing up. I was there almost 95% of the time. You have to leave room for those times my kid spent with the grandparents. I showed up. I was always there. So thank you Mr. Allen. You made my day because if 80% of success is just showing up, I definitely scored high in that department.