Why Do I Homeschool my Children?

It never fails - the very first question I am asked when I tell people - homeschoolers and non-homeschoolers alike - that I homeschool my children is always “What made you decide to homeschool?”

The next question from homeschoolers is “What curriculum do you use?” but that’s another story.

The answer to the first question is complex and is not short, sweet, or to the point.

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Adventures in Homeschooling: Reading is the Key

I was raised in a library - literally.

When I was very young, my mother helped start a volunteer-run reading center in Crab Orchard. She later became the Library Director after the reading center was expanded into a public library district.

Although it’s against the rules at most businesses, it was never a problem for Mom to allow me to stay at the library with her while she worked. After school, summers, every time I wasn’t in school and Mom was working - I was at the library.

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A Special Bunny

I watch my son, Kage, as he sleeps, his eight-year-oldbody sprawled in a careless flinging of arms and legs.

He snores softly and I sigh in contentment as I look at him.

I smile when I see the battered black andwhite stuffed bunny secured snuggly under his arm.

“Hoppy” was an Easter present when Kage was almostthree. He immediately became Kage’s constantcompanion. Hoppy went everywhere that Kage went.

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Never a dull moment with kids!

Life with children is always an adventure.

With my three children, life is usually an exciting and funny adventure!

A few Sundays ago, during church, my four-year-old Ruby was sharing some candy with me. She’d found a small box of leftover Halloween candy in my purse and was happily handing me pieces of Nerds candy. Distracted by trying to pay attention to the sermon, I would pop them into my mouth and murmur “thank you.”

That was a mistake. I should have been paying closer attention.

Suddenly as I was crunching, I noticed that Ruby wasn’t getting the candy out of the little pink box.

Curious as to where the candy was coming from - if it wasn’t coming from the box - I looked over Ruby’s shoulder.

I had to bite my tongue when I saw that she had dumped the whole box of candy on the floor and was picking up handfuls and handing them to me.

I had to laugh as I disinfected my mouth.

A few days later, middle daughter - six-year-old Mia was kissing baby sister on the cheeks.

Mia is a kisser. She is very affectionate and loves to gives hugs and kisses to Mommy and Daddy. One hug or kiss is never enough with Mia.

Mia was placing loud, smacking kisses on Ruby’s cheeks - both of them. They were both giggling and having a good time together. I didn’t think much of it.

Until a couple hours later when it was time to go somewhere. I was urging the girls to get their shoes and jackets on when I grabbed a wet cloth to wipe off Ruby’s face. I thought she must have been playing with a marker because she had reddish purple marks on both cheeks.

Slow-thinking Mama right there - Clue number one was right in front of me.

I kept scrubbing Ruby’s face with no progress. Those marks looked a little odd, so I took a closer look.

They were hickeys!

Mia had not just been kissing Ruby, she had put hickeys on both of her cheeks!

They were both giggling at the look on my face, which was thankfully, not covered in hickeys.

I was wondering how I would explain this to people without revealing what an unusual family I have.

Not to be outdone by his sisters in the area of deflecting boredom for Mom and Dad, eight-year-old Kage complained early one morning about youngest sis Ruby.

The night before had seen hard rains, lightning and thunder interrupting sleep for everyone in the Waters home. Kage got scared and crawled into bed with Mom and Dad - as he is wont to do quite often. Eventually, Ruby also crawled in bed with us. Having our bed overtaken by kids throughout the night is not unusual as we have awoke to find one kid sprawled across our feet, another cuddled up against Mommy and another draped over Daddy’s back.

Around 6:30 a.m. - around the time when I usually start to stir and come back to life (I am not a morning person by nature), Kage mumbled sleepily “Ruby, leave me alone.”

I mumbled sleepily “Kage, what’s she doing? She’s asleep.”

He replied “She breathing hot breath on me and I can hear her drooling.”

I told him to roll over, ignore the drool sounds and go back to sleep.

Oh yes, life might be simpler for people without children: Going on trips would not take 30 minutes just to make it from the house into the car to leave, there would not be petrified French fries on the floorboard of their car, and they might actually have matching socks, BUT they would not have the daily joy of embracing life with humor and childlike wonder.

That is why having children is an adventure worth undertaking and savoring - even if you do have to share your bed with everyone who lives with you!

Sibling Rivalry

I have an older brother. Twenty-two months older to be exact.

And as brothers go, he was always typical. Denny reveled in pestering his younger sister. Not just pestering, but constantly aggravating, teasing and being The Pester Master.

I know that Mom and Dad got very tired of hearing Denny and I constantly arguing, fighting and squabbling over EVERY LITTLE THING!

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You really can recycle toilet paper!

My grandparents were all born around the time of the Great Depression. This probably explains why they all seem to have lived by the old adage “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, do without.”

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Chickens and Liquor Just Don't Mix

Raising four boys and taking care of a farm south of Crab Orchard, Illinois with my grandfather are reason enough for my grandmother - Mary Morris - to throw up her hands in frustration. The three oldest boys alone - my dad Dennis being the worst - wereenough to keep Grandma worn out as they grew up.
Growing up, my dad and two of his brothers were constantly up to some type of mischief or mayhem. Most boys are constantly into trouble - but the Morris boys took trouble to a new level. Actually, they made it an art form.
Once, Grandma was cleaning out the basement and found some jars of grape juice that had been stored away so long that they had become fermented. She instructed Dad and my uncle Rodger to pour the grape juice out somewhere away from the house.
Being the "obedient" boys they were though, they decided to have some fun with the juice - which was now grape wine. They stashed the jars in a place where Grandma wouldn't find them and began a daily routine of spiking the watering troughs of Grandma's chickens.
The top of the chicken pen was covered with chicken wire and Dad said he and Uncle Rodger would hoot and holler at the chickens in an effort to startle them and push them into action. It seemed that liquor would bring out delusions of grandeur in those birds and they would try to fly straight up - only to bounce off of the chicken wire and back down to the ground - where they could not walk a straight line. Or touch their wing to their beak for that matter.
Up until a few years ago, Grandma still didn't know what Dad and Uncle Rodger had done.
She said she remembered when those chickens acted so strange. At that time, she couldn't figure out what was wrong with them and why they couldn't walk straight or sit on their roosts without falling off. Those chickens went awhile wihtout laying any eggs and Grandma had no idea they were drunk!