When I found out I was pregnant with my oldest I immediately started imagining those moments that I thought we would share: first day of kindergarten, school tours, secret reader days, PTA events, and graduation ceremonies.
The decision to homeschool removed those from my life. I would now be teacher, PTA, and school photographer. And I thought I was okay with it. Until we hit school age. Then something changed.
There would be no uniform shopping or classroom birthdays. No Valentines parties or Christmas parties. My girlfriends and I wouldn’t all stand at the bus stop complaining about how we had to sell candy bars again while we waited for our kids.
I was shocked that I was bummed. Those moments I watched my mom manage school commitments for 5 kids would never be mine. I wasn’t doubting our decision to homeschool so why did I feel like this?
I realized I was mourning a loss of sorts. Not a bad one, but the kind of loss one feels when plans change. The loss that is felt when you get into your first choice college but can’t help to wonder what that other school would be like.
I gave myself permission to be a little sad that those moments would never be mine. This decision to homeschool was not about me. My kids know no difference. They have never been to a school and may never go to one.
No. This was my loss. Not theirs.
I sat there for a second reminding myself that those moments would be replaced by different ones: co-op meetings, lazy weekday mornings at the park, sleeping in late on a Monday because we can, and watching my kids sit at the table learning together. Those would be my moments.
But most importantly, they would be our moments. Together.