Loops of Indecision

You might start to notice a theme here, because the looming 9th grade year is taking up my thoughts.

How can it be that one moment, I'm completely confident in my ability to homeschool high school, and the next moment I'm internally freaking out about some silly detail?  I freaked out about going from the grammar to the logic stage, and we've made it through that.  I know from past experience that once I've got our plan developed and our course charted, the freak outs will diminish.  I also know that I won't freak out going from junior high to high school next year with Ezekiel, or when the other three boys make the transition.  But right now?  I go from obsessing about what our next four years will look like to refusing to think about it because it is too much to process.

I'm not the first person to homeschool high school, and I'm not the first person to freak out about it, so it's not like I'm doing anything original here.

I tend to be overly ambitious, and I need to leave room in Luke's schedule for him to follow his passion (currently computer programming).  I want this year to be streamlined; I tend to add things because they are good "it-only-takes-10-minutes" things, but this is how to quickly burn students out.  Those minutes add up into hours.  I've done better this year, but I think I can do better next year.  I'm currently obsessed about whether or not to continue Greek next year.  I think doing Latin, Greek, and Spanish is too much, but I hate the thought of dropping Greek.  I might have the opportunity to get Luke into a Spanish class, though, so that might trump my desire.  But until then, I'm caught in a loop of indecision about the unknown.

Logical, right?

Four

I can't believe it's already time to start planning next year.  Normally I love the planning process.  After all, what we're doing next year is full of untapped potential and unmarred expectations.  Next year, I'll be the best teacher, my health will be great, and my students will be willing, right?

Luke will be 9th grade.  High School.  My emotions and thoughts run from "I've got this under control" to complete denial.  My complete denial, though, isn't that I'm not equipped or prepared to teach and guide him through high school.  Sure, there's a bit of panic when I think of messing something up when it comes to his transcript, but mostly my denial comes in when I think about the fact we've only got 4 years of schooling left.

Four.

He was four when I started teaching him to read.  He's the boy that first made me realize that little boys could either sit still or they could listen, but they could not do both simultaneously.  He's born the brunt of my mistakes as a Mom and teacher, and he's somehow still turning into a fine young man.

I know that I'm going to blink, and these next four years will be gone.  I know there will be unexpected joys as he grows into a man--just like when he was four I couldn't imagine how much I would love watching him be a fabulous big brother at 13 or how in awe I'd feel when he came to me telling me the success he's had with some aspect of computer programming.

I just wish there was a way to slow time down.  Right now, I'm going back into denial that I need to plan for high school.