Homeschooling Three Kids After 40: WTF Was I Thinking? Send Help. And Coffee.

Progress, not perfection… yet.

There are certain decisions you make in life that sound absolutely brilliant when you’re sitting down, well-rested, hydrated, caffeinated, and clearly suffering from temporary delusions of grandeur.

Starting a homeschool journey with three of my four children was apparently one of those decisions.

Because, baby…

HOMESCHOOLING IS NOT FOR THE WEAK.

And homeschooling three completely different children? With three different personalities? Three different learning styles?

And because I apparently enjoy making life extra spicy, THREE DIFFERENT PROGRAMS designed to better address each child’s individual needs?

Chile.

SEND. HELP.

Preferably someone with teaching credentials, a bottle of wine, an industrial-sized coffee maker, and the ability to explain why somebody suddenly cannot remember something we literally discussed eleven minutes ago.

Welcome to My Homeschool Era

When I decided to homeschool three of my children, I had good reasons.

Every child learns differently. Every child has different strengths, challenges, interests, and needs. I wanted each of mine to have an educational experience that actually worked for them, rather than forcing all three into the same little academic box and hoping everybody survived.

Beautiful, right?

Inspirational even. Look at me being intentional. Look at me individualizing education. Look at me creating three separate educational plans.

Now look at me at 10:37 a.m. trying to remember which child is supposed to be logged into which program while somebody needs help with an assignment, somebody else suddenly needs a snack despite having just eaten, and another child is looking at me like I personally invented fractions.

Oh, and did I mention that while all of this is happening, I ALSO WORK A FULL-TIME PUBLIC SERVICE POSITION FROM HOME?!

Yes. A real job. With actual responsibilities. Deadlines. Meetings. Emails. Phone calls. People who reasonably expect me to be productive during the workday.

Because somewhere along the way, people started believing that “working from home” means “available for everybody else’s random needs from 8 to 5.”

No, ma’am.

I am at work. My commute may be approximately twelve steps, but I AM STILL AT WORK.

So now I’m simultaneously trying to be a productive public service professional while overseeing three children’s education.

Basically, I’m sitting in a meeting looking professional from the shoulders up while silently communicating across the room:

WHY ARE YOU NOT LOGGED INTO MATH?!

This is a skill that absolutely belongs on my résumé.

WTF WAS I THINKING?!

Nobody tells you that homeschooling multiple children basically turns you into a teacher, principal, guidance counselor, IT department, cafeteria worker, attendance clerk, curriculum coordinator, transportation department, school nurse, and disgruntled employee.

Except…

YOU ARE ALSO MANAGEMENT.

And in my case, management has another full-time job. So who exactly am I supposed to complain to?

HR?

I AM HR.

This is some bullsh*t.

And Then Mama Got SICK

As if my new position as Superintendent of Lee Academy, full-time public servant, cheer coach, and general household crisis manager wasn’t enough, my body apparently decided it wanted attention too.

And when I say I got sick, I don’t mean the cute kind of sick where you sniffle dramatically, drink some tea, wrap yourself in a blanket, and binge-watch television.

No.

Those who know me know there are a couple of pretty reliable ways to determine whether I’m actually sick.

Can Valencia get out of bed?

And perhaps more importantly:

Can Valencia leave the house to get coffee?

If the answer to both questions is NO, somebody might want to check my pulse. Because coffee? Coffee and I have a relationship. Coffee has been there for me. Coffee understands me. Coffee doesn’t ask why the assignment isn’t submitted yet. So when I couldn’t even drag myself out of the house for coffee?

Houston, we had a problem.

I was so sick that I had to cancel a Laveen Divine Cheer practice during the month of a performance.

If you know Coach V, you know how much it takes for that to happen.

But THEN…

I couldn’t even READ.

Excuse me?! Now we’ve crossed a line.

YOU TOOK MY BOOKS TOO?!

Being sick is already disrespectful. But being so sick that an avid reader and book blogger doesn’t even feel like reading? That feels personal. I have books to read! ARCs are sitting there looking at me like:

“So…you just not gonna open me?”

Authors are somewhere wondering whether I’ve fallen off the face of the earth. My blog is probably collecting digital dust. My Goodreads goals are somewhere tapping their little imaginary watches. And I’m lying in bed thinking:

I KNOW. DAMMIT. I’M TRYING.

So to my authors, readers, fellow bloggers, and everybody waiting on reviews and new posts:

Please bear with me while I get my bearings back.

I am officially behind on my ARC reads and blog posts. Not because I abandoned my beloved books, but because apparently my immune system scheduled an unauthorized vacation. Management was not consulted.

Apparently Life Over 40 Has Jokes

Can we discuss this whole life-over-40 situation for a minute? Because who approved this?

I remember a time when I could stay up all night, get three hours of sleep, drink something caffeinated, and carry on with my day like a responsible member of society.

Now?

I sleep wrong and wake up with an injury. I cough too hard and suddenly I’m evaluating my entire healthcare plan. And when I get sick? My body apparently sends out an automatic email:

OFFICE CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

Life over 40 ain’t for the weak.

But hey…

Who’s counting the f’s I have left to give?

Certainly not me. We’re operating on a limited supply around here, and I’m pretty sure homeschooling is using most of them.

Meanwhile, I Live in HOTZONA

For those who haven’t been following along, this Chicago girl now lives in Arizona.

Or as I lovingly refer to it:

HOTZONA.

And believe it or not, I actually love Arizona. The sunshine? Beautiful. The winters? Absolutely disrespectful to everybody back home shoveling snow, and I love that for us. The scenery? Gorgeous. But then Arizona says:

“You seem a little too comfortable. Would you like some dirt in your lungs?”

Enter dust storm and monsoon season.

Because nothing says desert living quite like watching a giant wall of dust roll through town like the apocalypse has an appointment at 6:30. All that settled dust, pollen, dirt, allergens, and whatever else has been minding its business on the ground suddenly gets launched into the atmosphere.

And my body is like:

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Arizona: Here’s some beautiful rain.

Also Arizona: And here’s everything that has been sitting on the ground since March. BREATHE DEEPLY.

Ma’am.

But I Made It to the AZ Black Rodeo!

Now somehow, through sickness, homeschooling chaos, full-time work, cheer responsibilities, unread books, and my rapidly disappearing personal time, I did manage to make it out for AZ Black Rodeo weekend.

AND I HAD A BLAST.

Sometimes you need that reminder that life isn’t just deadlines, assignments, work meetings, practices, schedules, and responsibilities.

Sometimes you need to put on your boots, get outside, enjoy the culture, laugh, have fun, and temporarily pretend there aren’t three homeschool programs waiting for you when you get home.

Was I going back to educational chaos afterward?

Absolutely.

But for those few hours?

YEEHAW, BABY.

Mama was OUTSIDE.

Anyway…Back to These Children

Because apparently they still require an education.

Rude.

The biggest adjustment with homeschooling hasn’t necessarily been the academics. It’s realizing just how much of your day becomes centered around everyone else’s needs. I thought I was busy before. That’s adorable. Because now there is ALWAYS something.

Assignments.

Questions.

Schedules.

Progress checks.

Passwords.

Projects.

Lunch.

A full-time public service job.

Meetings.

Emails.

Deadlines.

Cheer.

Appointments.

Household responsibilities.

More questions. And why does everybody need to speak to me at the exact same time?! Meanwhile, I’m trying to maintain my own identity somewhere in there.

Reader.

Writer.

Blogger.

Coach.

Founder.

Public service professional.

Mom.

Woman.

Human being who would occasionally like to sit alone and stare at a wall without someone asking me where something is.

I HAVE NO PERSONAL TIME.

None.

Zero.

Personal time has left the building. Personal time changed its number. Personal time blocked me.

At this point, if I go to the bathroom alone, I’m considering it a wellness retreat.

But Here’s the Part I’m Learning

Underneath all my complaining, colorful vocabulary, caffeine dependency, and occasional desire to hide in my car…

I still believe this can be worth it. I’m learning my children differently. I’m seeing where they thrive. I’m discovering where they struggle.

I’m learning when to push, when to adjust, and when everybody needs to close the laptops before somebody ends up on the evening news.

And they’re learning something about me too.

Mostly that Mama doesn’t know everything. But Mama will Google it. We’re figuring it out. Some days are productive and beautiful. Some days I feel like Superwoman. Other days, the biggest educational accomplishment is that everybody remained alive, fed, and nobody threw a Laptop.

Progress, not perfection… yet.

And maybe that’s what this season of life is really about. Not having everything perfectly organized. Not pretending homeschooling is magical every day. Not pretending motherhood after 40 is effortless.

And definitely not pretending I can work a full-time public service position from home and actually remain productive, run a cheer organization, homeschool three kids through three different programs, maintain a blog, read ARCs, write books, manage a household, have some resemblance of a personal life, and remain completely sane every second of the day.

Because apparently I looked at 24 hours in a day and said:

“Yeah…I can fit some more shit in there.”

Ma’am.

No, you cannot.

Sometimes I’m killing it. Sometimes I’m surviving it. Sometimes I’m answering work emails while checking an assignment, mentally planning cheer practice, staring at an unread ARC, reheating the same cup of coffee for the third time, and wondering:

I graduated already. Why the hell am I doing school again?!

😂

Now I Need to Hear From My People

Homeschool parents, COME TO THE FRONT OF THE CONGREGATION.

Especially my fellow work-from-home homeschool parents because I KNOW somebody out there understands this madness.

I need answers.

How are y’all doing this?!

How do you homeschool multiple children, work a full-time job, remain productive, and not completely lose yourself in the process?

Do you actually have personal time, or is that just homeschool propaganda?

How do you balance individual learning needs when every child is using a different program?

How do you handle work meetings when somebody suddenly forgets every rule they’ve ever been taught the second your camera turns on?

And most importantly:

HOW DO YOU KEEP EVERYBODY BUSY LONG ENOUGH TO DRINK AN ENTIRE CUP OF COFFEE WHILE IT’S STILL HOT?

Because that’s the level of educational research I’m interested in right now.

And to my fellow 40+ parents:

Please tell me I’m not alone. When did staying home alone with a book and nobody calling your name become the equivalent of an all-inclusive vacation?

So yes, I’m behind on my reading. I’m behind on blogging. I’ve been sick. I’m juggling three homeschool programs. I’m working full-time. I’m trying to actually be productive at said full-time job. Cheer season is cheer-seasoning. Arizona is throwing dirt into the atmosphere. And my personal time is currently listed as a missing person.

But I’m getting my bearings back.

The books aren’t going anywhere. The blog isn’t going anywhere. And neither am I.

Although…

if anybody knows a homeschool teacher who accepts payment in coffee, sarcasm, and eternal gratitude, SEND THEM MY WAY.

Until next time,

Mz. Trulee V

Mother. Public Servant. Coach. Author. Blogger. Homeschool Administrator Apparently.

Progress, not perfection… yet.

Random thought……..

I was sitting here and contemplating a few things, but more than anything I was remembering my grandmother. Today she would have been 83 years young, and although I miss her endlessly, I thank her for all of her support.

My granny was my biggest advocate and support. Even at a very young age, she saw that when other kids wanted to play, I was content with a book. I can remember her always saying that if enough people read books then the world might not be so ignorant. Not really knowing what that meant at that age, she was always there to fuel my reading fire. Her gifts to me were subscriptions to reading clubs like the Baby sitters club and yes Harlequin Romance novels. The fights between her and my mother were endless as they would argue over why my grandmother would let me read romance novels at the age of 9. Young age, yes I agree but I’m glad she did.

It was interesting reading romance novels and not having the slightest clue what some of the graphic details were but then it got me researching and asking questions. For those who knew my granny, she did not beat around the bush. Ask her a question and you will get a very real answer. And one that might leave you with you jaw on the floor from shock. Nonetheless everyone loved her for it. Granny was a big advocate of “give her the facts now so that she can make better decisions as she gets older”. Sex education came at a very young age with her, and there definitely wasn’t a stork involved nor birds and bees. lol

If I were an addict, books were my addiction and granny was my supplier. Feeding my habit every chance she got, from gifts for every occasion, to buying them at the book fair at school, to picking up books from the goodwill. Yes, I was addicted to them from the very beginning and the more I read the more my vocabulary increased (because I was looking words p in the dictionary that I didn’t know), which in turn improved my spelling. My elementary school couldn’t believe my state reading test scores were that of a college level student. I became familiar with To Kill a Mockingbird, Lord of the Flies and authors such as Daniel Steele, Sandra Brown, Alice Walker, and so many others. Reading lead to poetry and poetry to writing. I broadened my mind by entering young author competitions in elementary school and winning, to writing essays that won contest in high school, to even writing my first young adult novel then (which is all handwritten in notebooks and unedited and unpublished).

I look back on these memories and all I can do is smile. Granny encouraged me to do that which I loved and have loved for as long as I can remember. I thank her for encouraging me and feeding my habit. Today I still read like 90 going north, and even review books and have a book blog (I never saw that coming). I’ve even started on a new novel. Reading is my solace, my comfort, and yes I get bitchy when interrupted from a good book. Reading is my escape from reality and always has been. There is nothing like black ink on white paper bounded together with a journey yet to be revealed (now this includes my Kindle). Later on Granny revealed to me that she used to do the same thing in which I found comfort in; devour a good book in a matter of hours only to start again with a new one. I miss her dearly, but I know that each time I start a new book, it’s like she’s there with me and I take comfort in that.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANNY!!!