By: Jenny Fifield
Upon the verge of choosing the path of homeschooling for my firstborn, my only fear was what my son might be “missing out” on forgoing the traditional path, but my worries were quickly, graciously and fully swept away.
He’s not missing out on the family breakfast table, I thought to myself, as we cook, eat and read together; still wrapped in blankets on cold mornings. Each gathered meal, we etch these steadfast family rhythms at the precious, beloved kitchen table.
He’s not missing out on midweek waterfalls, rock climbs or nature hikes. We’re not so over-scheduled that we can’t stay at the park and wade in the creek for a while, catching frogs or searching for water striders. We picnic on the soft grass and paint what we see in our nature journals.
He’s not missing out on the song of the Mourning Dove, Whippoorwill or the buzz of Cicadas. He has ample time, fiercely guarded by his mother for chasing Grasshoppers, Spiny Lizards and Geckos. We listen, we watch, we practice the ancient art of patient observation.
He’s not missing out on the slow and spontaneous examination of the star-shaped leaves of the Sweetgum falling, the yellow Chinaberry leaflets, or the Crepe Myrtle blooms. Our unhurried nature walks have gained him the ability to name every kind of tree on our side of the street.
He’s not missing out on climbing the perfect Oak tree with low, inviting branches or carefully treading barefoot across moss-covered stones. Confidence, strength and balance are earned on nature’s playgrounds.
He’s not missing out on Language Arts and great literature, read aloud with different voices for each character, snuggled up on the living room comfy chair. We forgo the handwriting books, write letters to faraway friends and make birthday cards for loved ones.
He’s not missing out on Kindergarten math lessons, as he skip-counts the bi-valve shells he found in the creek. 2, 4, 6, 8…. He counts the rows of patio tiles 10 columns across and 10 rows down, “Mom, I don’t even have to count them all, cause I know 10 rows of 10 is 100!”
He’s not missing out on making soup from the tomatoes we grew in our garden and homemade bread for friends who aren’t feeling well. He’s certainly not missing out on afternoon tea. We practice nourishing ourselves and our neighbors.
He’s not missing out on a breath of fresh air and a swing when he needs a break. He learns self-regulation.
He’s not missing out on his mother’s hugs, eye contact or physical touch. Nor on hearing her pray when she needs mercy, patience and guidance. He has me as his teacher, his advocate, his example.
For me, in the grand view of raising children, it all comes down to what I can do with the TIME given and the thing is, we get
SO.
VERY.
LITTLE.
As parents, we are the gatekeepers of their time; discerning which activities are worthy and what they will miss out on. It’s simply part of the job.
My intention in this path-less-travelled-life was to choose the slow lane, to underschedule, to enable the blessing of time to allow the unhurried unfurling of discovery in my children’s lives, and it was the best decision I’ve yet to make for my family.
Everyone is going to miss out on something, but he’s not missing out on what we feel are the most important things, so, I’m ok with it now.
Jenny Fifield is a homeschooling mom of 2 boys (with a girl on the way) who spends her days making big creative messes and chasing wonder with her kids. She loves nature journaling, slow hikes, writing & utilizing her Theatre degree reading aloud great books with her kids.