Recently, I walked into our home’s kitchen and found dirty laundry on the counter. Gross! I quickly scooped it into an empty basket and carried it into the laundry room, where I felt tears pricking my eyes. It had been a long day when all my sons seemed to forget how to listen to me. My thoughts quickly roved into wishing I were more like some of my friends who seemed to have it all together.
We decided to start homeschooling when our oldest, Elijah, was five. I was nervous because I went through public and private schools and felt entirely out of my depth. I naively assumed that once we got through our first year, I would have my classroom up and running like a well-oiled machine.
The first two years went well. Eli was bright, seemed to catch on quickly, and more importantly, seemed to thrive in the routine. Not long after, it was time to start homeschooling our second son. That’s when comparison reared its ugly head.
Our second son, Ben, seemed to struggle with everything from sitting still, to learning his ABCs. We knew he was bright and gifted. At fifteen months, he could construct LEGO mini-figures independently, and by two years, he could build forty-eight-piece puzzles. I assumed that homeschooling him was going to be easy. But I was dismally mistaken!
Why could he not seem to grasp simple things like sequential order? Why was he not reading any words at age six? His brother did! His brother was solving math problems and reading well by age six. By the time Ben was eight, he was still struggling to read anything. After a lot of testing, he was diagnosed with dyslexia, dyscalculia, and ADHD.
At that moment, I realized comparing my homeschooling journey with Ben to anyone else’s was very unfair to him and me. I wasn’t a failure, and neither was he. I had to toss out everything I thought I knew about teaching and relearn new strategies.
I had so many great supporters and educators to look to for help. Our pediatrician’s children also have dyslexia, and she was an immense encouragement and support. She boosted my confidence when she said homeschooling was undeniably the best route for his education. Full of emotion, she confided that one of her daughter’s teachers told her that her child was lazy and just didn’t want to read. “I wish I could homeschool like you,” she said.
I was amazed that our pediatrician would compare herself to me! And I knew then that our home would be the only place where my son could learn to read at his own pace, without the criticism of peers or burned-out educators.
Today, Ben is fourteen and reading past his grade level. Who knew our dyslexic son
would be the child who inherited my love for classic literature? If I had compared
him to other children or myself to other parents, I don’t know if he would be reading much at
all. When I let go of the expectations and stopped the comparisons, he flourished. When I let
God define success, he and I both thrived.
I am happy to report that our youngest son, Myles, is six and is somewhere between kindergarten and first grade. These days, I am not so concerned with placements and labels. He is learning and he is happy.
Our family is loud, messy, and often unorganized, but I’ve learned to accept it because
we are right where God wants us to be. These days, the only comparison I try to make is how
much I am being like Jesus. Comparison is the quickest route to destroying your peace and contentment, and your children will pick up on that more quickly than any other homeschooling lesson. I am so thankful God nudged me in a better direction!
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