This might not be the first tune that comes to mind when thinking of adding joy to your homeschool. But, for a kid who grew up on Three Dog Night while her Dad “danced” in the living room, it’s the first that comes to my mind.
Maybe I’m just sentimental, but those moments are ones that make me look back on my childhood and smile. They remind me of the simple joys of family. Joy that could be interrupted by schedules and plans.
Many years ago, I discovered that Homeschooling and Holidays were often a recipe for disaster and exhaustion. I couldn’t have the perfect homeschool, do all the things, and keep my sanity. Not to mention, I became overbearing and not the parent who was dancing in the living room with her kids.
This might not be the first tune that comes to mind when thinking of adding joy to your homeschool. But, for a kid who grew up on Three Dog Night while her Dad “danced” in the living room, it’s the first that comes to my mind.
Maybe I’m just sentimental, but those moments are ones that make me look back on my childhood and smile. They remind me of the simple joys of family. Joy that could be interrupted by schedules and plans.
Many years ago, I discovered that Homeschooling and Holidays were often a recipe for disaster and exhaustion. I couldn’t have the perfect homeschool, do all the things, and keep my sanity. Not to mention, I became overbearing and not the parent who was dancing in the living room with her kids.
Last Christmas, he purchased an 8-foot-tall nutcracker. My sister took one look at it and said, “That wouldn’t fit in my YARD.” To which he responded, a la Clark Griswold, “It’s not going in our yard, Russ. It’s going in our living room!” And just like that, I have a giant nutcracker standing next to the previous years’ nutcrackers. Over the years, the nutcrackers have grown from your average 1-foot originals, 3-foot sentinels, 4-foot dog-scarers, and now this colossal monument to all nutcrackers everywhere.
Writing that is almost blasphemy because I’m pretty sure he aspires to be Clark Griswold. Each year the lights get brighter, the house has more garland, and the nutcrackers are larger. He is continually adding more decorations in an attempt to outdo even himself.
Clark Griswold, the father who spends so much effort trying to be the best dad on the planet, is a sort-of hero to my dear sweet beloved. Even though Clark is much of the time a bumbling idiot, his heart is in the right place. He wants to share his love and memories of the holidays with his family and create traditions and memorable moments.
Sadly, most of his plans go awry, and he spends a lot of time frustrated and upset. If he could see that wonderful memories are being created, his time would be better served. So, we’re learning to step back from forcing the memories and letting them happen naturally. My favorite Christmas memories aren’t of the beautiful decorations and planned activities, but of the funny mishaps and laughter.
But, back to the holiday vacation. One year Aunt Rhoda noticed a rope tossed onto their second-floor balcony. She thought it a bit odd and decided to watch as the events unfolded. A few moments later, Don walked in and proceeded outside to the balcony. He tied the rope around his middle (yes, he does seem to think tying ropes to himself is entirely logical) and started slowly walking, wrapping the rope around him as he went.
Rhoda was watching from inside when suddenly the top of a Christmas tree appeared above the balcony railing. Slowly, but surely, Don pulled the massive tree up the balcony. Just as it was about to crest the railing, Don’s hands slipped. In the ensuing confusion, the only thing visible was Don being flung around, twirling helplessly toward the edge. Fortunately, he didn’t go over, but he did provide entertainment for the family for years.
Don may not have considered himself a man with ideas of grandeur. He simply wanted to give his family the best Christmas possible. To him, that meant a giant Christmas tree in the living room. To you, it may be something completely different.
We wrap ourselves in ideas of what it means to celebrate the holidays with our families. We have this idyllic scene pictured in our minds, and when our efforts fail to produce it, we think we are failures.
Holidays aren’t the only times we do this to ourselves. As homeschoolers, we often set ourselves up for failure because we have visions of creating a perfect homeschool, and life doesn’t always work the way we expect. Our homeschools are made up of people—people who have their own thoughts, desires, complaints, and expectations. Perfection is elusive and often disappointing. It sucks the joy out of your homeschool.
Humor will make your life so much more enjoyable. In my over forty years of experience, I’ve learned that sometimes it’s best to laugh. Laugh when you burn the holiday turkey. Laugh when the presents get mixed up. Laugh when the kids make a huge mess in the middle of the living room. Laughter adds joy to life.
Keeping joy in your homeschool doesn’t have to be challenging, but it often takes a change in mindset. Take your mind off of the end-result and take time to enjoy the little dances in the living room.
achelle is a working homeschooling mom of 3 in the South. She is the owner of HideTheChocolate.com, a blog about her adventures in homeschooling and parenting. She is also the author of dozens of online book clubs for kids from preschool to high school at her site Literary Adventures for Kids. You can often find her reading a good book (or even sometimes just an okay book) and enjoying a jar of Nutella — don’t judge.
