Things to do when you’re feeling discouraged as a homeschooler

Things to Do When You're Feeling Discouraged as a Homeschooler

The following is a post by contributor Angie Kauffman of Real Life at Home.

Homeschooling is such an amazing educational and lifestyle choice. The benefits of it are plentiful, and often get touted by homeschoolers.

There’s another side to homeschooling, however. That other side is that homeschooling can be challenging.

It can drain you mentally and physically. Even if it’s worth it, it is not an easy lifestyle to choose.

On the up side, however, there are things you can do when you’re feeling discouraged in your homeschooling lifestyle to help change your mindset and lighten your mood.  Sometimes, it’s just about making changes in logistics and in your thinking.

As an added bonus, it may also help your children feel better too.

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What you own, you carry with you

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The following is a guest post by Beth Watson of Classical Conversations at Home.

“All that I own, I carry with me.” ~ Cicero

This quote has stayed with me since I read a blog post a little while back by Ruth at GraceLaced. It made me ponder. What do I own? What do my children own?

What do I want them to carry with them long after this homeschooling journey we’re on has ended?

So much of what I do today is based on my dreams or hopes for their futures. While I would love for them to be great at baseball or whizzes in the kitchen, more importantly I want them to be kind, strong, thoughtful, adventurous, creative, and loving.

I want them to share light and hope to those around them.

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Take pain seriously

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The following is a guest post written by Julie Bogart of Brave Writer.

Recently my daughter, Caitrin, took up “longboarding.”

A longboard is an over-sized skateboard, and it looks like you’re surfing on asphalt! My youngest son, Liam, owns one and uses it all the time. Caitrin got curious.

The other day Caitrin flung open the front door and exclaimed through stifled sobs: “Get me bandages. I’m bleeding.”

Liam leapt to his feet; I abandoned my laptop.

Caitrin took quite a spill (“street pizza”)! One knee gouged and bloodied, an elbow throbbing in pain, scraped red, another patch of skin bleeding on her side, with lesser abrasions littered across her thighs and forearms. Spectacular crash!

I quickly assessed my resources and agreed with myself: “I’m no nurse.”

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Putting the “simple” back into homeschool

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The following is a post by Kari Patterson of Sacred Mundane.

It was one word that caused the seismic shift in my mindset. That forced me to wipe the school slate clean and reevaluate. It came out of left field, but then again it confirmed everything I’ve ever wondered–and agonized over–with regards to my son. The word?

Asperger’s.

It’s true, for the almost 8 years of his life I’ve wondered at my son, who is marvelous and baffling all at once.  Unique can’t begin to capture the glorious idiosyncrasies of this man-child. I’d marveled at how a 7-year-old could be at a high school reading comprehension of science and history, and yet be barely able to legibly write his own name? Why the social frustrations? The incredible intensity? The overwhelm and overstimulation in public places? The extreme need for calm, home, steady, routine?

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Starting the year right

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The following is a guest post by Laura Thomas of This Eternal Moment.

 A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge” – Thomas Carlyle

I will never forget my first day of kindergarten. I wore my favorite ruffly dress that twirled nicely, my hair in pigtails, and clutched my favorite pink doll tightly.

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I was excited and terrified all at once. I was eager to learn and even more eager to be liked by my classmates.

Thankfully, the first face to greet me that morning was my teacher, Ms. Neal. Ms. Neal was one of those people created to make small people feel significant, loved, and happy. We were a group of more than 20 kids, but Ms. Neal made us all feel special.

And there was nothing that we wanted more than to see her smile and sense her approval of our oddly-cut shapes or wobbly-written letters. And approval she gave — loads of it.

More than 30 years later, my brother, a Delta pilot, returned to sit in the back of her classroom just to watch Ms. Neal work her magic. The children quietly sat in their places, raised their hands, respecting her and each other. How did she do it?

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