Friday, June 20, 2025

17 Things I Learned in 17 Years of Homeschooling


 Reflections from a Veteran Homeschool Mom

Seventeen years. That’s how long I homeschooled my kids—from the early days of learning letter sounds with Play-doh to high school science labs at the kitchen table. It wasn’t always pretty. It wasn’t always peaceful. But it was always worth it. Along the way, I learned a few things—sometimes the hard way. Here are 17 lessons I took with me:


1. No Two Kids Learn the Same Way

You can read every book and take every personality test, but at the end of the day, your kids are who they are. My daughter was textbook smart. She loved workbooks, read novels for fun, and thrived with structure. My son? Complete opposite. He was hands-on, had to do to learn, and memorizing anything was a struggle. I had to unlearn a one-size-fits-all mindset fast.


2. Just Because It Worked for One Child Doesn’t Mean It’ll Work for the Other

I spent a small fortune on curriculum I thought would work for both kids. It didn’t. What lit my daughter up completely bored my son, and vice versa. Flexibility is a homeschooler’s best friend.


3. Repetition Isn’t Failure—It’s Reinforcement

I used to get frustrated repeating the same concept a dozen times. But you know what? Repetition until it's ingrained is learning. That’s not falling behind—that’s how mastery happens.


4. Use the House as a Living Classroom

I had flashcards everywhere. On the fridge: “7 x 3 = 21.” On the bathroom mirror: “6 x 8 = 48.” I turned our home into a math labyrinth. If they opened the fridge, they read the card. Brushed their teeth? More math. Learning doesn’t only happen at a desk.


5. Mental Health Days Are Real and Necessary

There were days when no one was in the mood to learn—not them, not me. On those days, we’d reset. Rest. Watch a documentary. Bake. Take a walk. Homeschool burnout is real, and sometimes the best learning happens after we press pause.


6. Use What’s Already Out There

You don’t have to reinvent the wheel. Blogs, YouTube channels, Khan Academy, online classes, podcasts… they all became part of our school toolbox. When I couldn’t explain something well, someone else could.


7. Homeschool Friends Are Lifesavers

Connecting with other families gave us accountability, encouragement, and community. Whether it was a co-op, playdates, or just coffee with another mom who “got it,” I was reminded I wasn’t alone.


8. Field Trips Count as School

Museums, zoos, nature hikes, fishing trips—if they’re learning, it counts. Some of our best days were out in the world, asking questions and soaking up life. Those days mattered just as much as the ones with textbooks.


9. Make Math Practical

When we grocery shopped, they calculated cost-per-ounce, added totals, and figured out how to stay under budget. That’s math in action. I even made them estimate the final bill at checkout.


10. Balance Structure with Flexibility

Yes, we needed a plan. But I also had to learn to bend. Some days ran like clockwork. Others got derailed by illness, military life, or just bad attitudes. That’s okay. Learning to adapt was part of the curriculum, too.


11. The Only Way to Finish… Is to Start

Some days it felt overwhelming. The to-do list. The subjects. The attitudes. But every journey begins with one step—or one subject. We didn’t have to finish the whole book in a day. We just had to start.


12. Socialization Doesn’t Have to Be a Problem

My kids found friends through dance, sports, church groups, community classes, and volunteer work. They learned to interact with all ages. “Socialization” wasn’t the issue people assumed it would be.


13. You Will Second-Guess Yourself

There were moments I was sure I was failing them. When the math tears started. When the comparison monster crept in. When I was too tired to care. But over time, I saw fruit. Progress. Confidence. It was working.


14. Start the Day with Coffee… and a Smile (Even If It’s Fake)

Some mornings the only thing holding me together was caffeine and a prayer. I found that a cheerful attitude—even when forced—helped set the tone. School is a four-letter word some days, but laughter and grace made it lighter.


15. Your Home Will Look Like a School... And That’s Okay

There were books everywhere. Science kits in the kitchen. Maps in the hallway. It didn’t look like a Pinterest-perfect home, but it was full of curiosity, creativity, and connection.


16. You’re Learning, Too

I relearned long division. I finally understood grammar rules. I studied history through adult eyes. Homeschooling shaped me just as much as it shaped them.


17. It Goes by Faster Than You Think

In the beginning, 17 years felt like forever. Now I’d give anything to have just one more read-aloud on the couch, one more nature walk with notebooks in hand. It’s hard. It’s exhausting. But it’s beautiful. And it ends before you know it.


Final Thought

Homeschooling isn't about getting everything perfect. It’s about growing together. It’s about grace—grace for them, grace for yourself, and grace for the shifting seasons.

Thursday, June 19, 2025

Who Am I Now? Rediscovering Myself After Homeschooling Ends

 

— A new beginning unfolding.


Who Am I Now? Rediscovering Myself After Homeschooling Ends

For seventeen years, I knew exactly who I was.

I was the mom with the lesson plans in one hand and a planner in the other. The mom with dinner and snacks in the cooler, books in the tote bag, and a car that logged more miles than most rental fleets. I was the organizer, the motivator, the teacher, the tutor, and the personal chauffeur. Our days were full of structure, flexibility, laughter, and stress. But above all, they were full of purpose.


A Leap of Faith into Homeschooling

I started homeschooling when my oldest was in first grade. We had just moved from Alaska to Alabama, and I enrolled her in the local public school down the street. At our teacher meet-and-greet, the reading curriculum was laid out by level, from A to J. I asked my daughter to read the highest-level page. She did. Easily.

Thanks to a loop-teaching system at her previous school, she had been going to the first-grade class during reading time in kindergarten (Thank you, Mrs. Conforti). She was already far ahead. At the new school, I asked if she could be moved up or placed in a higher reading group. The answer was no. I asked if she could visit a second-grade class for reading. Still no. I asked about testing to skip a grade—they didn’t do that until third grade.

As a military family, we moved often. I knew that falling behind in one place could cause issues at the next. I decided that day to homeschool her, not out of fear, but out of determination to let her thrive.

Once I got into it, I realized it wasn’t as complicated as I thought. So when my son reached kindergarten age, I started with him, too.


A Life in Motion

We homeschooled through multiple states and numerous seasons of change. My daughter danced intensively in Virginia Beach, and homeschooling was the only way we could accommodate her schedule. She continued through 11th grade and graduated from a dance conservatory in her senior year.

My son stayed with homeschooling for all thirteen years. In his last two years, he dual-enrolled in community college, earning his associate degree in science, a full week before graduating from high school.

In between the math and the literature, I spent 50+ hours a week driving to and from dance classes for my daughter. My son trained in Taekwondo, Jiu Jitsu, piano, cotillion, rowing, and Civil Air Patrol.

Our life was in motion—always moving, always multitasking, always full.

And then, just like that, it ended.


The Quiet That Followed

I had always planned to go back to work or school once the kids graduated. I thought I’d finally pour into myself after years of pouring into everyone else. But one month after my son’s graduation, I had spinal surgery. Then another, six months later.

The chronic pain I’ve lived with for years, thanks to Ehlers-Danlos hypermobility, was growing louder. Sitting and standing for long stretches became unbearable. I couldn’t be dependable for any job. My body demanded flexibility that most workplaces don’t offer.

Suddenly, both of my plans—career and continued education—disappeared.

My husband lovingly reminds me that I don’t have to work. Financially, we’re okay. But the truth is, I want to contribute. I want to be useful.

And without homeschooling, without a career, without even the ability to work part-time… I’ve struggled.


Who Am I Without the Same Roles to Fill?

For so long, my identity was tied to what I did. I was the homeschool mom. The military spouse. The dance mom. The curriculum planner. The ride-giver. The sandwich-maker. The crisis handler.

I still serve on the board of our local homeschool group because I have a heart for homeschoolers, and helping is part of who I am. I’m still an Ombudsman too… not even for my husband’s current unit, but for a unit he was stationed at two units ago. I stayed because I believe in showing up for others. Serving is in my DNA.

But even with those titles, something has shifted.

When your identity has been so deeply rooted in nurturing others, what’s left when there’s no one left to nurture?

And even more...what happens when you are the one who needs care? When your body slows down, but your heart and mind are still bursting with ideas and passion?


Sitting With the Questions

The truth is, I don’t have all the answers. I’m still in the middle of this transition. Still asking the hard questions.

What do I love, just for me?
What makes me feel alive when no one else is watching?
What does contribution look like when money isn’t part of the equation?
Is rest a worthy purpose? Is creativity enough?

Some days, I feel lost. On other days, I feel a flicker of something — curiosity, creativity, purpose — trying to push through the grief and the fog.

I’ve started writing again. I’ve dusted off old ideas and explored new ones. I’ve considered sharing my journey publicly, even though I’m naturally introverted and deeply aware of how vulnerable this season feels.

I’m trying to give myself the grace I so freely gave my children.


Becoming Something New

Maybe you’re here too, standing on the other side of a long season of caregiving, wondering who you are now that it’s over. Maybe your identity was wrapped up in parenting or homeschooling or service, and now you feel like you’re floating in an unfamiliar space.

If so, I want you to know you’re not alone.

This isn’t the end of your story. It’s a turning page. A blank chapter. A sacred pause before the next beginning.

I don’t know exactly where I’m headed yet. But I’m learning to listen. To rest. To create. To try. To be.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

Wednesday, June 18, 2025

Choice, Chance, Change

Choices, Chances, Changes

You must make a Choice to take a Chance, or your life will never Change.

I Am Not One for Change

Every day I wake the kids for school (actually drag them out of bed) and get them started with breakfast and homeschool... do laundry and whatever else needs to be done in the house (there's ALWAYS something)... 3:00, hurry out the door and head to dance... drive an hour to get there... sit and wait 5 hours till classes are done and head home... another hour drive... get home between 10:30 & 11:00... wind the kids down and get them off to bed... then do it all over again the next day.

Sounds fun!? I do what needs to be done, but truthfully I'm exhausted!

“Ashlyn's talent is our 'why' in this equation. In turn, I have turned into Robot Mom… just chugging along.”

After our tumultuous transfer from Mobile to Elizabeth City, we realized the closest dance studio was an hour away. It is what it is, and we did what needed to be done. Meanwhile, lack of sleep, fast food, and a body breaking down after Plantar Fasciitis and physical therapy… I was tired in every possible way......


Rediscovering This Post Nearly 10 Years Later

I wrote those words in 2015. Seems like forever ago! Then life happened, and this blog—like so many other things—got left behind.

Recently, I reopened this post, and reading it again felt like stepping back in time. So much has changed—but the core of it? The why? That stayed the same.

Back then, I was showing up so Ashlyn could chase her dream. And now, all these years later, I get to look back and see how far that dream has taken her—and us.

The Detour That Was Actually Direction

Ashlyn had to step away from dance for two years in high school. She tried a local studio, but it turned out to be a bad fit—they even called her in to teach when instructors were out. She was just a teenager, trying to train, and it was clear she needed more. She left the studio and found a local theater group, Center Players, where she could keep performing and stay connected to movement while she auditioned for the University of North Carolina School of the Arts (UNCSA)

She got waitlisted the first year.

It crushed her… but it turned out to be the best thing that could’ve happened.

“What felt like rejection was actually redirection.”

In her artistic statement, she had said she hoped to continue at UNCSA for college. If she had attended for two years of high school, she would’ve had to repeat a year to meet diploma requirements of three years of undergrad. Getting waitlisted allowed her to join for just her senior year, then seamlessly transition into their college program and complete the full three-year track needed for graduation.

Dreams Rewritten—But Not Lost

Ashlyn went on to graduate Summa Cum Laude from UNCSA with a Contemporary Dance degree—in the middle of COVID.

She taught wherever she could when she came home. She danced with a company in Norfolk, taught at a few studios and a Governor’s School in Virginia, and eventually felt the call to go even further.

NYU had extended their master’s program deadline. At the last minute, she applied.

A week later, she was accepted.

Today, she lives in New York City, where she just graduated in May with her Master’s from NYU. She’s also earning her ABT teaching certification, and for her internship, she’s working at none other than the world-renowned Martha Graham School—her absolute dream job.

The same girl who once feared her dream had slipped away is now living it—boldly, fully, beautifully.

The Full Circle I Didn’t See Coming

And me? I’m here, finishing a blog post I started when I was barely keeping my head above water—writing through exhaustion and love.

“Turns out… we both kept going.”

We made a Choice.
We took a Chance.
And life—in all its mess and magic—Changed.

This isn’t just the ending of an old post. It’s a reminder that no effort, no long drive, no tear or tired night is ever wasted.

To You, Reading This

Maybe you're in the thick of it now. Maybe your dreams feel delayed or detoured. Maybe you're tired.

I see you.

Hold on to your "why." Keep showing up. Because one day, you might look back and realize—the very thing that almost made you quit was actually shaping your story in the most beautiful way.