Even though we’re homeschooling our kids, and even though our kids aren’t even of compulsory school age yet, there’s something very “Back-To-Schooly” about this time of the year. In the midwestern US, fall – long synonymous with the start of school around these parts – is fast approaching. Farmers’ markets are teeming with fresh harvest and the leaves are hinting at their upcoming brilliance. Shadows lengthen. Days shorten. Buses start running down our street in the morning. It’s hard not to think about starting school.
DH and I were both raised in teaching families. Both of his parents were teachers. My dad taught for a while before becoming a superintendent. We are both steeped in the school tradition. (This, of course, adds a bit of irony to the fact that we are both in favor of home schooling.)
My children can sense that something is afoot. Mom has been poring over books, collecting flash cards and worksheets, and writing things in a big, blue, suspicious-looking binder. But they are excited, too. We just refinished the floor in their playroom, and will be setting up a few learning areas in there for our new “school”. Plans include a reading nook with chairs and a table, an activity area with an easel and chalkboard, and a play space for their toys. I hope (a) we can fit it all in, and (b) that we can keep it organized. (b) is much much much harder than (a), though. Of that, I’m certain. But it’s a new year, right? Here we go, back to school.