Trying to teach this brood

When I think of what homeschooling could be, I insist on picturing all my children sitting calmly around me as I read a scintillating book full of deep truths and wisdom. The only interruptions of this reading would consist of a thoughtful child raising his hand to point out an element of symbolism we might have missed otherwise, or my stopping to point out thematic elements that can relate to our lives. As I set the book down, the children are all disappointed to see it end, but are glowing with their newly-gained insights. Then, as I expound on foundational values and morals for life, they soak it all in, and are thankful. I finally dismiss them to their rooms where they plot out new designs for life-altering inventions, or ways to raise money for orphanages.

When will this vision suddenly become reality?? Because it so is not.

Ok, ok, I know the part where the children become genius inventors or child philanthropists is a stretch… and even the part where they are thankful for the lessons I teach them, really. But, seriously, is it too beyond the realm of possibility to ask that the munchkins just sit and listen quietly as I read a book aloud to them? Apparently it is.

My mother, in a stage of life that can only be explained by temporary insanity, decided that raising 5 active and mostly strong-willed children was not enough, so she also became a dog-breeder. This meant that at various times we had 8-13 Golden Retriever puppies loose in the house. At one point she actually wanted to have a batch of puppies photographed – in a basket. It turns out that the stage when the puppies are the cutest is also the stage when they can climb out of just about anything you put them in. So there the adults were – all trying to put the puppies back in the giant basket just for a quick camera shot. No sooner would 6 puppies be placed in the basket than at least 3 of them had climbed back out.

That image of trying to keep all the puppies in the basket is what now runs through my head when I sit down each day after lunch to read a book (currently Redwall) to my kids. At any given moment, at least one of the pups is way, way out of the basket. I finally get one or two engaged and interested, and another one starts whining about how someone is sitting in his seat, or taking his part of the blanket, or putting his feet on her. Or someone suddenly needs help going to the bathroom (usually the toddler). Or the boys start inventing a game for every time I read a certain word. It regularly takes me no less than 10 minutes to get through one paragraph with all the interruptions.

Even our Bible time is wrought with interruptions and confusion. I always start out so happily and hopefully, ready to share some pearls of wisdom with my sweet offspring. But within 5 minutes, I hear myself yelling, “EVERYONE NEEDS TO STOP MOVING AROUND AND STOP INTERRUPTING AND START PAYING ATTENTION, DO YOU HEAR ME??” It puts a damper on the tone of the time, certainly. The oldest child insists on making constant jokes, the second child cannot focus on what I’m saying – pretty much ever – and the third child suddenly is thirsty or hungry or tired. And don’t even get me started on the squirrely fourth child who never is quiet…. All I can say is, I cannot get these puppies to stay in the basket even for one second!

It is becoming clear that I have inherited my mother’s proneness to insanity, though… I keep thinking homeschooling can be that idyllic, peaceful scene where the cherubs all listen to their revered mother with rapt attention. When will that day finally arrive? When?? 

I want to be the wise and graceful hen with her chicks all pecking nicely around her feet; intead I am the crazy, wild-haired woman trying to get the puppies back in the basket.  At this point, my goal is just to finish this Redwall book before someone graduates.