We are now exactly two weeks into my mental synchronization “experiment.” Here are my key takeaways so far:
1) First of all, I do not have the fortitude, aptitude, or patience to be a teacher of young children and I’m sad and disappointed to be in this position. It is what it is, though, and I don’t regret our decision to homeschool full-time. But I do wish I wasn’t forced to make a choice between my kids’ physical and mental health. This whole situation sucks and there are no right or easy answers. All we can do is what we believe is best for our children and our families, and then own those decisions. I just keep telling myself it won’t be like this forever and I hope beyond hope that’s true. The part that makes me the most apprehensive is that I am already mentally, emotionally, and physically tapped out, and yet I will have to continue to dip deeper within myself to keep my family afloat until this horrifying pandemic is over. That is a daunting task and I pray every single day that I’m up to the challenge.
2) My daughter clearly was craving structure and routine: She fell right into our new system, and rocked it, even going so far as to ask when we could start schoolwork each day. Honestly, I knew she would thrive under this idea. She’s very cerebral and needs constant brain stimulation—thankfully she works well on her own, with minimal supervision. Surprisingly, I’m not too worried about her homeschooling this year (that’s saying a lot considering what we went through at the end of last school year). I think these long weeks of quarantine have helped in that respect. My girl seems calmer, happier, less anxious, more manageable and eager to please, and ready to focus. I’ve also noticed that our mommy-daughter relationship seems to have taken a slight turn for the better, which helps immensely. Fingers crossed this holds true when school officially begins in a few weeks.
3) My daughter really took to quiet time, too, eventually shutting herself away in her room all on her own, without any prompting from me. Turns out, she discovered my childhood collection of My Little Pony and would spend a few hours playing “marriage” on her bed. She enjoyed herself so much that even an invitation to go swimming in the pool wasn’t enough to pull her out of her mindfulness matters—that’s huge considering how much of a fish she’s been this summer! She started calling this “funishment” (LOL) after we explained quiet time wasn’t meant as a “punishment,” but rather a peaceful break in their day to take a breather and relax with their thoughts. (I may petition the folks over at Merriam-Webster to add this gem to their latest dictionary edition. Out of the mouths of babes!)
Now, before you go thinking I’m a jerk and tooting my own horn over this crazy experiment, let’s move on to my son. (For what it’s worth, I’m not the type of person to toot my own horn. It’s just not my style. I’m simply relaying some interesting tidbits about our experience over the past two weeks.) And so …
4) Considering he’s only 4, my son has been a trooper with these changes. That is not to say he hasn’t proven difficult, however (remember my comment about my lack of patience?). He’s better at the school part, although believe you me when I say he pouts, growls, and stomps around this house like his beloved T-Rex whenever learning hour rolls around. This goes on for about the first 10 minutes before he begrudgingly works through his letters/numbers, cutting/pasting, and reading/writing. I’m lucky to get 20 semi-focused minutes out of him because he’s very easily distracted and he is a ginormous slowcoach (that’s what my daughter used to say in place of slowpoke and we loved it so much, it stuck). Oh, oh, and I noticed that he conveniently “times” his bowel movements during this learning hour, too!! I can’t; this kid is too smart for his own good. LOL! I will take what I can get, though—he is only in preschool, after all. And school technically hasn’t started yet. This is part of the reason I instituted this trial run, so that I could ease them into this “temporary abnormal” (to borrow a phrase from my favorite Disney blogger, Tom Bricker) of homeschooling.
5) On the mindfulness side, my son has struggled a bit, mostly because he talks or sings literally every second of the day, so being quiet isn’t exactly his forte. He’s also the reason for our explanation that this time isn’t meant to be punishment. Not that he believes us or even understands. To his credit, though, he’s handled his business every time, albeit accompanied—again—by his infamous stomps and growls. Once he’s finally in his room with the door closed, he rallies quickly and plays nicely with his dinosaurs or Legos.
6) In terms of benefits, I can’t say that the quiet time segment of this experiment has made much of a difference to moods or behaviors or the productivity of our day. Then again, it’s only been two weeks and I feel like my kids are still getting used to the concept, although my daughter had some experience with it in kindergarten last year. I think I’m going to continue with this for the rest of August and then reassess from there. If I still don’t feel it adds anything to our day, maybe I will replace it with another type of downtime: reading, perhaps, or puzzles or coloring.
7) The school portion, on the other hand, does seem to be beneficial in that it provides brain stimulation, focus and motivation, and discipline (which has been a bit lacking since school ended in June). It also eats up part of the day and alleviates some of the boredom I know my kids struggle with. And, after they’ve been “studying” for an hour, it sparks their imaginations and reignites their excitement for playing together, which is always a bonus, especially on the days when I’m working or trying to write. Plus, I’m hoping this will allow for a seamless transition into the new school year by the time September 8 rolls around. At the very least, I will have some idea for what to expect from a “teaching” standpoint.
8) Finally, there’s the most crucial takeaway: One large piece of the proverbial puzzle surrounding what’s going to be on my (heaping) plate this fall will—thankfully—already be in place. As selfish as it may sound, I need to safeguard my own mental health and sanity here because I (like every other parent out there) am taking on a huge load in a few short weeks. And the only way I will survive this—and maybe even thrive—is by planning, organizing, and instituting a routine that alleviates some of the anxieties, stresses, and roadblocks I know my family and I are sure to face on the long road ahead.