I Am: On Crying in the Shower/Ending My Homeschooling Journey ~
Written by Jamie C. Martin of Simple Homeschool and Introverted Moms
Ya’ll, I put my son on the school bus this morning…and then sobbed.
Not because it was the wrong thing to do; I know in my bones it couldn’t be more right. But because this whole summer has been a series of small endings, and this morning was the final one.
My homeschooling journey of 15 years is officially over.
I’m so proud of all three of my “no-longer-kid” kids:
- Trishna (age 20), learning so much about herself and the world as she works in her first job
- Jonathan (age 19), on tour with the Jonas Brothers as their Lighting Director through the end of 2023
- Elijah (age 18), beginning our town’s school program for special needs students ages 18-22
Each one of them has stepped out of their comfort zones in new ways this year and has continued developing their unique skills, gifts, and potential – does it get any better than that as a parent?!
At my homeschool retirement party back in June, I shared with our closest friends a reflection I’d written to give a snapshot of all of the highs and lows that come with the journey of home education.
Today I wanted to share it with you as well below! Note: I also recorded the poem for Episode 116 of my Simple Homeschool podcast and chatted more in-depth about the end of the journey if you care to listen in!
In Episode 116 my son Jonathan joined me (before he hit the road with Nick, Joe, and Kevin that is, LOL) and we also talked about the following:
- The different components of my retirement party: pop quiz, champagne toast, poetry, prayer
- The letter Jonathan wrote to me when he graduated in 2022
- Jamie reads aloud the poem she wrote and read at her homeschool retirement
- Find pics/video of my retirement party pinned on my Instagram profile
I Am: On Crying in the Shower/Ending the Homeschooling Journey
I cry in the shower.
There’s a certain spot where I lean my forehead, watch tears join the water stream, flow as one down the glass.
I want to quit. Instead I get a towel, prepare for another day.
I tell myself, “10 years from now, I’ll be glad I kept going,” And I am.
I rest my childhood copy of Farmer Boy on the counter, surrounded by flour, rolling pin and messes waiting for later.
The scent of apple turnovers, like Ma used to make, infiltrates the kitchen and seeps onto the porch.
Soon the still-hot treats burn small, impatient fingers as I pick up the book and read to captivated ears.
“10 years from now this will be nothing more than a memory,” I remind myself. And it is.
I sit next to a child at the table and wonder what’s wrong.
Sensing I should ask, I also just want to get this assignment done. I inhale impatience, exhale a question: “Is something bothering you?”
Out it comes: the fear, the worry, the burden. I can’t fix it, but I can half its weight.
“10 years from now I’ll be glad I stopped the lesson,” I tell myself. And I am.
I glance out the window to see childhood innocence in motion.
On the tree swing, a colorful dress-up cape flutters with each push, kite’s tail caught by the wind.
I stop the dishes, pick up my camera, head outside.
“10 years from now I will still treasure this moment.” And I do.
I passed Weary two miles ago and can’t check off another box.
Declaring it movie day, sofas and thick blankets become our desks and chairs as favorite stories take shape before us.
Chatter ceases for at least a minute, as I sip Earl Grey and rest my eyes.
“10 years from now, “ I convince myself, “I’ll be relieved I pressed pause on this day.” And I am.
I close the read aloud as an impromptu theatre production breaks out.
They grab props, costumes, and each other: one the villain, the others the heroes.
I fulfill my role as audience, then gently segue to a new activity before fighting erupts.
“10 years from now I’ll remember this performance, made for my eyes only.” And I do.
I pray downstairs as shouts descend one floor above, derailing my beautifully laid-out plans.
Surrounded by comfort objects: Bible, books, earplugs, I ask God for the millionth time: “Am I doing anything right for these children?”
Once again he whispers words I once again try to believe:
“10 years from now, you’ll clearly see the impact your work has made on their lives.” And I can.
A lifetime of daily memories thread together on a string, but not the glimmering garland of pearls you’d want decorating your tree.
Ours is rough and ragged, bitter and sweet forever fused together.
My moments of inadequacy match those of plenty, yet my loaves and fish multiply.
I’m there for every first word read, milestone reached, lesson learned.
By God’s grace I longed to give them the education I never received. And I have.
I go back in time, slide a note under the door to the discouraged mom stepping out of the shower.
“10 years from now,” it reads, “the thousands of snapshots of delight, sorrow, laughter, sacrifice, and growth will be worth it, but not just for your kids…
You will have evolved into a completely different, much stronger person.”
And I am.
*****
For those of you who have already or are just now ending the homeschooling journey too, I’d love to know what the transition has been like for you! Share your thoughts in the comments below!
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Weekend homeschool links: August 25th
As a retired homeschooler this fall, I feel this.
I hear you, Martha – hugs xo
So proud of all you and your kids have accomplished. Well done, Martins. ❤️
Love you, my friend. I couldn’t have done it without you listening to my fears and worries along the way! 😉 xo
Looking back on my own homeschool journey I am so grateful for taking the path less travelled! It has truly made the difference. I still have one teenager doing online schooling and another that I am “teacher Mommy for” (that was his name for me when he was little) so I am still on the journey but there is a much shorter path ahead of me. I am grateful for your posts Jamie that inspired me and encouraged me to think that it was possible to do this! No homeschool looks alike and every home and situation is different. It’s easy to get bogged down by the pintrest beautiful photos some posts, the curriculums they may use, the activities and crafts! It is so important to be yourself and be the mom that you can be! THe days are LONG but the years are short!
Yes yes yes, Marnita, to all of this! So special that our paths crossed in this online universe. And oh my goodness I love your “teacher Mommy” nickname! xo
I do hope you will continue SimpleHomeschool though. I have been following you for well over 10 years, and I’ve always thought that there are a lot of “young” homeschooling mamans out there, in blogs and youtube, giving advice and encouragement, but not enough older, seasoned homeschool mamas who are done but keep passing on the wisdom gleaned throughout their homesschooling years through an internet presence. I hope you will be one of those.
My oldest children are the same age as yours, but I have a one year old and everything in between, so I am not “retired” yet, but in our country, this is the last year we have the freedom to homeschool, and I cry that I might not be able to continue homeschooling my younger children…
That is my plan right now, Rebecca, until God says otherwise!
I’ve thought the same and am glad to be able to continue encouraging from here for now!
Oh Rebecca, this is truly heartbreaking! Is this in France? I hadn’t heard!
What a journey! Thank you for bringing so many of us along with your family, for your poignant words and poetry, and for the preview of the exciting next chapters for the Martins. Well done, all of you!
Thank you so much, friend – it was a true pleasure and a gift to walk part of this journey beside you! Beyond crazy to find ourselves with older kids in these new seasons, right?!! xo
All the feels. I’ve still got five to go but one is graduated and it made me realize how precious and fleeting these beautiful, messy, difficult, wonder-filled, whimsical, exhausting, bonding, memorable days are with my kids. Your poem captured all of it so beautifully and perfectly. Well done, mama! (On the poem but more so on schooling your beautiful family at home.)
Thank you so much, Joanna! I’ve already found myself thinking things like, “Why did we never record our Breakfast School?” It’s insane how something so rote and on repeat can vanish, almost overnight. It’s both beautiful and hard – a real paradox.
Jamie, your heartfelt reflection on the end of your homeschooling journey is beautifully expressed. It’s a mix of nostalgia, growth, and the bittersweet feeling of letting go. Your words resonate with anyone who has embarked on this incredible journey of educating and nurturing their children. 📚👩🏫🏡❤️
Thank you so much for sharing all your introverted homeschool mom thoughts with us through these past years. I’m ending my journey too this year (2024). You always seemed to put into words what I was feeling. I liked your post-it notes pictures too, they were just what I needed that day. So thank you from the bottom of my heart. (By the way, I also love tea and books. And I have good fries in the shower too. 😉)
Cries not fries! Spellcheck didn’t like cries. 😂