Planning Your Homeschool Year: 4 Lessons From 26 Years and 5 Kids

A train wreck.

That's what the end of the school year felt like. All the orderly, well-planned organization of August somehow ended up a tangle of barely finished curriculum, "enrichment" projects we never got to, and a book list lacking more than a few check marks.

Sigh.

Next year will be better, I'd tell myself. Surely if I just found the right program, the right organizational tool, the right philosophy, things wouldn't feel this... well, messy... at the end of next year.

I know that voice. Maybe you know it too:

• "We didn't finish half of what I planned."

• "I keep changing curriculum and it still doesn't feel right."

• "Am I actually teaching them anything?"

• "Everyone else seems to have this figured out."

While some days go very sloooow, the years go fast, and now I'm looking back over the heads of five young adult children, all finished their homeschool journey and all thriving.

Enjoying them as the interesting, amazing people they've become, and listening to what they remember and value from their homeschool years, makes me wish I could go back and steal a moment with my younger self, exhausted from trying so hard and never very sure I was getting anything right.

What would I say to my long-ago me? I'd say: take a deep breath. Relax.

The true value of what you're doing is in the small things.

1. The Culture of Your Home Is More Foundational Than the Curriculum on Your Shelf

As homeschooling has grown, so has the number of approaches, philosophies, curriculum choices, and activity options. It is easy to get overwhelmed, and even easier to feel like the challenges you are facing are because you've missed the "right" choice.

What I discovered, and what my now-grown children say was most formative, was that the books we read, the nature walks we took, the hands-on projects we did, and the time and space to pursue things that delighted them made WAY more difference than what curriculum I followed.

Especially in the elementary years, centering on the written word (good books!) and the created world (nature!) grounds learning in ways that are meaningful and enduring.

I researched, chose, and jettisoned plenty of resources over the years. In the end, what mattered most was what was happening around the fireplace, around the kitchen table, and right out in our backyard.

2. The Struggles Aren't Ruining Your Child's Education, They're Part of It

You know what I mean when I say homeschooling is sometimes a battle. My children battled me, siblings battled each other, and honestly, many days I battled myself.

There were academic struggles, big-emotion struggles, and plain old annoying sibling struggles. This did not fit with my mental image of children neatly copying inspiring quotes in their handwriting books, working happily together on science projects, and contentedly perusing the nature field guides I strategically left on the coffee table.

I counted the success of any given school day by how free of struggle it was, so naturally most days felt like a failure. But looking back, I see that those very struggles were critical to who my adult children became.

But I look at what those battles actually built:

• That work ethic? It started with the weariness of whining at the kitchen table.

• That room full of taken-apart toys and "recyclables" we clashed over? He's now a master at diagnosing and rebuilding all manner of engines and equipment... with a spotless, well-organized shop.

• That child who couldn't grasp math for years? She's now an elementary teacher with real empathy for the struggling learner.

• And my own battles? They watched me learn that I have limits, that people matter more than productivity, and that in the end, it doesn't really matter whether every box gets checked.

The glorious moments of homeschooling are, well, glorious. But learning how to learn, responding rightly to parental authority and sibling squabbles, and discovering that you CAN do hard things are forged in the battles we so often feel mark our homeschooling efforts as failure.

3. Activity and Imagination Are the Keys to Robust Learning (And They Take Time)

Every year I included things like art, music, creative projects, and field trips in my plan. And then I tried to choose a curriculum that would either include all of these things or could be (theoretically) supplemented by them.

But by Day 34 I already felt behind, because:

• Days 16 and 17 were lost to strep throat.

• Day 20, cousins were in town from far away, and seeing them mattered more than the workbook.

• Day 25, a water pipe broke, and all hands, regardless of size, were on deck to clean up.

• Somewhere in there: appointments, a veterinary crisis or two, a power outage.

We weren't exactly on Day 34 anymore. And what always went first were the things the kids enjoyed most.

I wish I'd figured this out sooner, but eventually I saw that the very things I was cutting in favor of "real" learning were the things my kids learned best from and loved most.

It took a huge mental shift on my part, but prioritizing activity and imagination by incorporating them into what we were already doing (even if the curriculum didn't say so, or if the curriculum suggested activities that didn't work for us) made for the best learning.

Choosing slow time, at-home time, and providing tools instead of toys shifted what our homeschool looked like in a way that benefited both my children as learners and me as a mom.

Did I still wrestle with "am I doing enough?"

Regularly.

But watching them succeed in college and beyond has only confirmed it: delight is a crucial key to learning.

4. Relationships Are the Framework for the Life Your Child Is Building

One of the things I most appreciate about my now-adult children is that they value relationship in a world growing more disconnected by the year.

The bonds they forged as siblings are playing out beautifully now, as they help and support each other through very different life paths.

They make time for their grandparents.

They use their gifts to bless my husband and me, regularly and without being asked.

Instead of turning inward, I've watched them work hard to build community in new homes and workplaces, reaching out to newcomers with real warmth.

Those sibling struggles that wear you down? Worth working through.

That grammar worksheet that didn't get finished because you spent the time encouraging a struggling child instead? The grammar will come. The connection won't wait.

The day that the snow was thick and fresh, or the first warm spring breeze blew, and you put the work away and celebrated together outside...the memory of that joy will remain and make your adult child's eyes sparkle when they reminisce ten years from now.

Whatever your child's future holds, growing their appreciation of and capacity for relationships with depth, warmth, and compassion will give them the framework they need in a lonely world.

So as you make your plans and line up new resources on the shelf, hold the anticipation loosely. Consider your goals, your priorities, your dreams for your family.

The richest memories and the greatest benefits rarely come from the boxes you check. They come from the small things you almost didn't think mattered.