I never set out to be a homeschooler.
In fact, the few experiences I’d had with homeschoolers prior to becoming a homeschooling parent myself were a little, how shall I say it? Odd.
I remember one of my friends in high school whose parents pulled her out to homeschool, and the great pity I felt for her situation as a social 16-year-old.
So how did I find myself a homeschooler? Well, through a series of events including having a first child who was an early reader, not living in a great school district, moving mid-year across the country, and the chance meeting of a family whose homeschooled kids impressed us beyond belief, I woke up one day and said to my husband, “What do you think about homeschooling?”
We figured we’d try it for a year. The early days were fraught with wonder and questions — questions from the librarian who asked why we came in so often during school hours, from the checker at the grocery store who felt the need to quiz my young son publicly, and even from extended family members. There was wonder over watching my child sound out his first words, learn simple addition, and conduct messy “science experiments” in our kitchen.