Running the Homeschool Track Meet

I must confess.  There is a flaw in my thinking.

I would like to believe that my view of homeschooling is walking along a path, learning as we go, and enjoying the scenery along the way.

HOWEVER…

I find that when I sit and contemplate the coming year, my view of homeschool is more like a chaotic track meet, full of hurdles, races, running against the clock, and some road burns along the way!

I have cleared a few hurdles, such as allowing myself to school my own way, and not in the vision of the government schools.  I have also cleared the hurdle of understanding that plans are guidelines, and that the world won’t crumble if we stray from a plan or two.

But there are other obstacles that tower over me, and when I look up at them, they seem to be growing.  Without a bit of help, these obstacles will not be cleared.

Will my daughter be as far ahead in math as my son is?

Will my plan for the coming year actually work, or will it fail miserably, and put us back in square one?

When I get into the “winter funk,” how will I keep motivated to stay on task?

How will I handle adding another child into the learning mix, now that she is turning 4?

How can I add more Bible study into our day, so that we can achieve my year-long Bible completion goal?

Are we in enough extra-curricular activities, and if not, how could I add something more to my schedule?

I need to understand that my job is to educate my children to the best of my ability, and teach them things that will not only get them into college, but will also help them in life.  My children need to know how to make important decisions, and they need to appreciate consequences.  They need to know Who to turn to when life isn’t perfect, and Who to thank when it is.  They need to understand relationships, and they need to see how certain relationships can affect their lives.  They need to feel confident in themselves and in their decisions, because regret isn’t fun.  And they need to have a loving home life, so they can enjoy the same thing in their adulthood.

If I can accomplish these things, it really won’t matter how far we make it into the advanced courses I hope to cover.  It won’t matter how many times we read The Iliad.  It won’t matter that my planner was erased and re-written so many times that the whole thing had to be scrapped and replaced.

What will matter is that my children had a healthy home to learn in, had loving parents who loved to teach them, and that they will be able to transfer that love onto others that come into their lives.