The entire month of January we had our daughter out of school for her surgery and recovery and then for our trip to Oklahoma. I was homeschooling for that month and loved it.
We had all kinds of time together, school only took an hour or two a day with what she’s learning and then the rest of the day blew wide open … but so did our eyes. Learning started to happen beyond the kitchen table. Reading signs outside, making lists, counting items, recognizing theories and patterns.
These things surround us.
I never wrote about the morning we brought her back to school after returning home from Oklahoma. It was a raw morning for me. She was so excited to see her friends and tell everyone about her trip – we had been working on a “book” of her adventure that she would get to read to her class. She was pumped!
I was so happy to be sending her back happy and not worried all over again about making friends or re-establishing relationships or classroom boundaries. She was more fluid than I ever would have been.
But after I dropped her off and drove away I felt myself starting to freak out. Like, ugly cry while driving, sobbing, yelling and wailing in the car. I called my mom. Then I pulled off the road to try to calm down.
I’ve been very honest about worrying about my relationship with my daughter, I think because we’re both females and I’m hyper emotional I tend to run out of steam when it comes to patience for her. More-so than when I’m dealing with the less emotional sibling who loves to cuddle, touch and kiss – her little brother.
I have major (and probably unnecessary) guilt about this. And I realized when I was freaking out on the side of the road listening to my mom talk that I have nothing to be sorry about, worried about or guilty for.
I was weeping because the last month had been such a joy, an incredible window into my daughters mind, her little soul. We worked so well together, her and I. Learning with each other about patience, kindness, gentleness. I loved her questions about the material we were going over and that after 10 minutes of sitting down to work on something she would open up about something else entirely.
I was available and she caught on. She was a window and I peeked in.
We were in sync.
I calmed down enough to get home and I think my son and I spent the day just waiting to pick her up again – and when we did (we were running late!! how does that happen on the ONE day you can’t wait to see them!?) she was already walking outside with Aaron when we spotted them.
I stopped my car in the middle of the road, jumped out and ran to her – and she ran to me – right up in my arms like they do in the movies and I started to cry all over again. She was so happy to see me, had such a good day at school and didn’t quite understand why I was crying until I told her that I just loved her that much.
Proof to me that I can let her go, I can watch her make her dreams come true and cheer for her louder than anyone and when she needs me … I’ll always be ready to bend down and wait for her to reach my arms.
I would homeschool in a heartbeat if that was best for her. Some day, it might be. I just love that she does thrive here. That I have everything she needs right now.