I Am Homeschooling My 13-Year-Old

I Am Homeschooling My 13-Year-Old

I’m homeschooling my 13-year-old. Kid number two out of four.
The one who responds to me the worst.
The one who hasn’t trusted me for over 12 years.

It’s been three months, and it hasn’t been an easy transition.

We’ve tried co-ops, virtual schooling, and project-based learning. They’ve done some work and ignored other work.

Because they left school for a time last year, we were able to start ahead a bit. We know they don’t like it when I’m not immediately available—last year, I tried to work full-time while guiding their education.

We know they need to be nudged into social situations—but only the ones they’re comfortable with. We know that physical activity has never been their strong suit.

And we also know how much of a positive impact leaving school had on their mental and emotional well-being.

After returning to school in the fall, they played a sport. At school.
They made new friends.
They had sleepovers.
They tried new things and maintained a sense of well-being.

But that slowly slipped away again.

School has never been a safe place for them. Even in kindergarten, they asked why adults said school was a safe place. Why would adults claim that strangers were “safe”? Why were they being lied to?

The social anxiety, the constant feeling of being unsafe, the struggle to understand others’ intentions, and having their creativity stifled—not by ill-meaning teachers, but by the structure of school itself—led to self-harm, self-hatred, and high levels of anxiety, alongside OCD and Autism.

We used to call this kid our soda pop—they would mask and hold everything in all day long. On the outside, they were the perfect child, the perfect student, the perfect kid.
But when they came home—home to their safe space and safe people—the top came off.
The explosion happened daily, for years, until we finally got help.

If it weren’t for the pandemic, I don’t know where we’d be today.

Heading into 2020, the behaviors were increasing exponentially. We were actively searching for help at a deeper level. For years, we’d been told that nothing was wrong—that each issue was “just a phase.”
That destroyed my own mental health and my confidence as a parent.

As we started realizing they’d be expected to return to school in the fall of 2021, we remembered where we had left off. We were able to get help more quickly—there was more availability in programs and more attention being given to kids’ mental health and well-being.

Now, we’re in a local therapy program. We have a diagnosis.
We have family support and understanding.

School still failed this kid. But we can approach life without being in a constant state of fight or flight.

So here I am, homeschooling my 13-year-old.
My “difficult” kid—the one who has tested me daily for 13 years.

We’re both growing and learning. But it’s a work in progress.

I’m fortunate that I can work from home and delegate responsibilities, which allows me to be immediately available most of the time.

Just yesterday, we concluded that autonomy needs to be more limited, and I need to implement more structure.

But I’m scared.

Scared that it will lead to more fights. Scared of the push and pull—of demands and demand avoidance.

I’ve gotten good over the years at stepping back—to ignore, to walk away, to allow them autonomy over life’s demands. But this will create a new cycle of learning for both of us.

As I sit here, tired and terrified, I’m also sitting at the zoo—so they can hang out with a new friend they made.

I know—even when their mental health is struggling—it’s a thousand times better than it used to be.

I know this was the right choice because I saw the difference in my kid’s mental state within two days of leaving school.

But, damn, it’s more exhausting and emotionally draining than I ever realized it would be.

The kid who has always demanded the most of my attention, time, and emotional capacity still gets it all. And the other three wait patiently for me to show up.

But I am trying so hard.

That has to mean something.

How Gardening and Nature Show Up in Society

My neighbor has rats.

Fun, right?

We try to be as natural and zero-chemical as possible, composting and gardening, growing fruits and vegetables in the backyard. And now I am terrified that I will be inviting rats here…

My neighbor also has a fox den that is occasionally used by a mother fox. The first time it happened, it made a crappy spring manageable. We would go out with our coffee and watch as the baby foxes sunbathed and played. It became a ritual for my husband and one of the few things that brought him joy that spring.

We did a ton of research to ensure our pets and kids were safe in the yard with them behind the fence. We talked our neighbor into leaving them until June (when we read that they would leave on their own), and were sad when they left the nest.

Last year, no foxes. We waited and watched. But this year, we were thrilled to see activity. The den grew in an overgrown area of yard that my neighbor does not maintain. We watch every day, waiting for the first cub to pop its head out to feel the sun.

What does this have to do with rats? Guess what eats rats in nature: FOXES!! 

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Then, guess who I found outside with a crossbow behind my fence… my neighbor’s tenant.

I yelled at him to put it away because my kids were outside, and that is not acceptable or safe. But my heart broke a bit- I assumed he was hunting the foxes and hoped he was just an idiot doing target practice.

He kindly put the crossbow away and went back with TWO shovels. I watched as he attacked the fox den. I yelled back to him that foxes eat rats, and that they don’t pose a threat to us. He ignored me and continued to dig.

My stomach turned. I have no say in what they do in their own yard.

I believe that this is a huge problem that we have as a country. When something is different and scares us, we attack instead of learn. We kill instead of love. We poison instead of seeing other options.

I am sitting on my deck, terrified to go back and check on the den. I am powerless. And I just keep seeing the babies and the exhausted mama fox in my head.

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I know that when humans leave this earth, nature will return to power. Nature is more powerful than we are and is always pushing back in new ways. But we look the other way.

Or, like my neighbor, we fight instead of learn.

The Dopamine Spiral

What am I looking for?

I pick up my phone and look at my calendar which is where I keep my to-do list. 

I pick it up to look at Instagram and Facebook to check my notifications "for work" and spiral through reels. 

I pick it up and I look for a smile. A distraction. Inspiration. Life.

I pick it up to do something and forget what that thing was and spiral into a rabbit hole looking for dopamine. 

I pick it up to make posts for work and I "look for inspiration" and spiral again. 

I pick it up and go on a group chat, feel less alone, and chuckle a bit. I follow a link to a social page and spiral again. 

I pick it up to use it as a clock reminder- and check my notifications. And spiral. 

I pick it up to use it as a remote- and check my notifications. And spiral.

I pick it up to use it as a map and sit in my driveway- and spiral.

I pick it up to- gasp- answer a call. Which I put on speaker, and when I get to the parking lot or driveway, I scroll and spiral some more. In the name of "checking my notifications."

Checking for what? 

That I matter to someone? 

That someone engaged with my work? 

That I didn't miss anything?

That I need to see life? 

That things are normal somewhere?

That my friends aren't having fun without me?

That something, somewhere, can make me laugh?

Make me feel?

Why don't I have these things in my life without my phone?

How do I find these things when I am always attached to my phone?

I have removed most apps. I TRY to only check the notifications on the web version of socials, and it proves to me that I am not missing anything. But I still go back. 

Today I turned off the internet on my phone and put it on a "focus" mode. 

I turned it back on - twice. In the name of work. In the name of research. The dopamine is instant.

I stopped posting for the most part back in December when my work and personal life were crashing. I understand that people will comment that they care and feel for me, but it is not action, and I didn't want comments and likes. It has been freeing- that I am not looking for comments and likes, at least on my personal pages, but I am still there. On the site. 

Where can I get a flip phone? If I am going to learn how to survive without this crutch to distract me from my life, I need to dive in head first. Like when I wanted to learn how to drive stick so I BOUGHT ONE. 

You read that right. I know how I operate, so what is keeping me here with this box still in my pocket, on my lap, next to my computer?

Emotional Baggage

I am at that wonderful period of life where I am raising kids (ages 7,9,13,15) and handling my parents' aging, all while navigating my own hormonal changes. This is why we are supposed to have kids young- so that we can take care of everyone separately. Yay, womanhood. 

...

My dad has prostate cancer. 

We received the test results yesterday and now we wait for the next steps.

This is the 3rd cancer in a year. Melanoma, thyroid, and now this. Ironically, he had to have surgery on a disk in his neck or we wouldn't have known about the thyroid cancer, which led to them finding the prostate cancer. In that light, we are lucky. He is lucky. It is aggressive and advanced, and had he not needed neck surgery, we would have found out too late. And this entry would read very differently. 

... 

It is easy to take advantage of the fact that our parents will always be there when things are hectic and life keeps lifing. My parents are extremely involved in my family's life, and make it possible for us to work "off" hours in the hospitality industry, and for us to navigate the activities of 4 kids while working weird hours. 

Most of the time, I see my parents in passing. Dropping off or picking up a kid. Them helping me. We joke that my dad gets dispatched- he is a retired truck driver, so mom is dispatch and he goes where she says. They are the most amazing and loving and involved and supportive grandparents- I couldn't dream of better for my kids. But I want them for me.

...

The past few months have made me realize that this is it. I have to change the patterns. I want a relationship that goes further than drop-offs and pick-ups. I want to work less and engage with all of my loved ones more. I don't know how much time I have with either of them to be honest. My mom is the least healthiest person I know. She would disagree, but it is a constant health battle.

Also, my mom does not deal with stress well. She is a doer- a fixer- a go-getter. When things like cancer happen, you cannot fix, do, or go-get. You have to wait and trust. We are not good and waiting and trusting. We just don't do it. But with cancer, there is not another option. We are not oncologists. We are forced to realize our own limitations. We cannot fix everything- and we are not okay being told that. I say "we" because I am very similar and I understand her struggle. 

On the other side of the family, it is not much better. My mother-in-law is refusing to acknowledge that age is catching up with her and her strokes. We thankfully talked her into a ranch closer to where her kids live, but we still don't see her often. And every time we do, she is injured. She refuses assistance or to acknowledge that there are things she cannot do. And we as a family refuse to force her hand. Ignorance is bliss?

...

If I learned anything from my father-in-law's death 10 years ago this month, it is that we have to stop and lean in. But I didn't learn. I let life keep lifing. I ignored the years passing and the reality of aging.

Unfortunately, we often forget until it is a crisis. But it is a choice and it involves breaking the pattern. I am being selfish, but dammit- I want memories. I want more. More time, more conversations, more laughter, more history- more. more. more.

I have started to invite my parents over on Mondays- we are both usually home with all of the kids, and I usually cook for the week. We have made them play games and have already made some great memories. They constantly say that they do not want to intrude. I don't know how to make them understand that this is so important for all of us. 

I wish I had made this a part of our lives long ago. I often thought of family dinner nights, but we just kept being so busy and I was so tired. 

Tired is still alive. 

I want 20 years of family dinners, and dammit I will try my best to make it happen. I am now attending all doctor appointments- to clarify, take notes, mediate between both my parents and the doctors, and to summarize. We have all agreed that this worked quite well, and I am glad to be a part of this. And to give back. I want to help them like they always help me. 

But to be honest, I just want them. 

From Scraps to Food?

I garden because I am scared of being wasteful.

I don't know how I became frugal. Maybe it is because I work in the most wasteful industry. Maybe because I like to travel and need to save money to do it. Maybe it is because after bringing my first child into the world, I was terrified at what I would be leaving behind. Or maybe the "reduce-reuse-recycle" campaign hit hard. 

But regardless of why, I find myself hopefully optimistic that I can grow things from seeds, that I can find a craft for the non-recycalable waste, that we will resuse boxes and ziplock bags. 

My family was not frugal. Ironically, my mom grew up in a home where "going to the dump" to find things was a normal thing to say. Her parents survived the depression, and I am sure that left a lasting impact. She often tells us that she had 2 pairs of jeans and 2 sweatshirts, and that was it. 

My mom only bought us new clothes, and a lot of them. She only bought name brand snacks and food, and we had a lot of that, too- even when we couldn't afford it. She gave us what she didn't have- she didn't want us to feel that level of embarassment when we went out into the world. 

What I want for my kids is a knowledge of how our food grows, the effort it takes, how easily it is to NOT grow it (meaning how easy it is for the plants to die!), and an understanding of waste. Sometimes I wonder what they will take from all of this and how it will show in the ways that they raise their own kids...

I often use veggie leftovers to make veggie stock for this very reason, which blew my dads mind one day. He had never really thought about how easy it is to make veggies stock til he was over for dinner and I was taking all the scraps and throwing them in a pot of water. 

TIP- you can freeze your veggie scraps until you have enough to fill a pot half way. Then you just boil them for a half hour, and save the water when its done! You can then compost the remains if you are a closet hippie like myself :)

The other day, I made shepards pie at the request of my youngest (7). While I was peeling the potatoes, I thought about how wasteful it is. Then I thought: will new potatoes will grow from peels?? 

That is now today's attempt at being less wastefull.

I think I will also try quarter of an onion that I have leftover. I will update you on the progress! So far, I laid the potato peels out to "dry" a bit (picked up the idea from a quick internet search). I only saved the skins that had eyes- they are going in the dirt today, but I may have dried them out too much...

Only time will tell! And if it doesn't work? I will use the soil somewhere else. 

Please share ideas of reusing and being less wastefull! I have piles of things in my basement that I would love to use up :)

Introverted Extrovert

 

People who meet me never expect me to be an introvert. I learned to mask and perform- because that is how I got my way as a child, and as a grown person, that is how we get to our goals. 

That may sound psychotic, but isn't everything we do ultimately selfish? We have a goal to achieve, and we must do the things to achieve it. Which was something I learned early. I was "stubborn" and "determined" and "funny" and "a tomboy" but really, I was just a kid that saw something and went for it. I didn't let myself be constrained by expectations or rules until I was older. At this point, I learned how to mold them, and usually, it was through people and their reactions to me.

Thankfully, I truly LOVE [most] people. I love learning what makes them tick- what led them to their belief systems, why they do what they do, what they love and hate, and how they got to where they are. I love learning about them and that leads to authentic relationships. Which is something I desire, so it in itself it's a selfish goal. 

Once those relationships are formed, I don't know how to proceed. I keep myself extraordinarily busy as a coping mechanism for life, and that leads to limited free time, and quite honestly, it leads to many people being intimidated by me. They think I am something that I am not. They think I am more successful, have more friends, and have more energy and more relationships than I do. So I have one friend, and we own a business together. She and I share some traits, though we are very opposite in many, but it allows us to devote time together, which is nice. This is not to discount the MANY friends I have that I don't get to engage with regularly- but like I mentioned, I make it hard to be my friend. 

Literally, make plans with me for next month and I AM ON IT. Next week? Not happening. 

I didn't learn about my introvertedness until I had my first baby. I couldn't figure out why I was so overwhelmed (and the postpartum didn't help). Before having a kid, I did my activities and came home to veg out. Stare at a TV, read, and go on my laptop to scroll FB (this was not even that long ago- but social media was thankfully not what it is today. Can we bring back MySpace please??). 

Sometime around my 2nd kid, I realized that I was missing the recharge. I needed downtime. I was quite possibly ADHD and had been self-medicating since I was 15... That realization didn't change much, but at least it happened. 

I love being at work running a restaurant and getting to know my team and my guests. I love making people happy, and even engaging with those that are unhappy because I get the opportunity to change that before they leave! But when the shift is over, I am done emotionally. And I go home to my love, 4 kids, 2 cats, a new dog, and a messy house.

When the kids were little, I would wait until after bedtime so the house would be quiet. But then the pandemic hit. I was pushed into a house with four kids 24/7 who needed attention, activities, and schooling while navigating the stressors of the pandemic on my 3 businesses. I was not able to have the "extroverted" time that fueled me or the "introverted" time that recharged me. And I have suffered ever since. 

I am still trying, 5 years later, to reconfigure what I need and how to meet those needs. Business wise we finally stopped being in pandemic mode and began recession mode- topped with whatever this new administration is doing and waiting for the shoe to drop on prices and consumer spending. Family-wise, the needs are constantly changing depending on the kid and the time of their life.

I have one kid being homeschooled, and one that wants to join (my oil and water kids, of course). I have a business I want to get rid of and am coming out of a failed business venture that is leaving us on the verge of bankruptcy. I lost my therapist due to an insurance change (I cannot afford to pay out of pocket), I am repeatedly dreaming that my husband is leaving me for someone better, and life keeps on lifing. Yes, that's a word spell check doesn't acknowledge and I use it often. Life keeps on lifing. 

So how do I navigate my internal needs when the external is constantly pushing me and taking my energy? How do I recharge? I am trying to write- hence this blog- to see if that makes a difference. It keeps me off the doom-scroll. It makes me think outside of the immediate. It allows me time to be internal. I am trying to work out just for the alone time. I am trying to live in the moment and learn this new life that exists. Our businesses that thrived until 2019 are never going to be the same, so how do I change what I love to do? How can I be immersed in a world of people and feel invigorated again? 

You may think that I am just depressed, but I think it is situational depression. Perimenopause, kids, a husband, a home, sick parents, business ownership, politics- it's the eye of the storm and I just don't know what is on the other side. The type-A in me doesn't do well in the unknown- especially when there are limited actions I can take to maintain control.

We can only control what we can control (blah blah blah) and I haven't chopped my hair yet, which is usually my tell that I am in an unknown period. Maybe blogging is a better way to control the unknown- I get to control what I share with you!

In response to my need to maintain business and control, my therapist told me to lay on the floor and do nothing for 5 minutes each day. That never worked. Most of the time I don't have time for that, but when I do try, it hurts. But I do try to sit in moments. It's a start. 

She also gave me a book which I started reading since I miss her. In the first few pages of the book, it talked about reptiles and how they haven't changed for millions of years. Reptiles kept on reptiling- since the dinosaurs and maybe even before. They learned to come out of the water, to walk better, to run faster, to survive.

Except. I love an exception. A bending of the rules. Determination. Stubbornness. Creativity.

Selfishness. 

Except for birds. Some reptiles made the jump to birds- they didn't need to walk better, run faster, or swim- they needed to fly. And they did.

But it didn't happen overnight.

A Journey to Find Contentment

This is the story of a girl who always felt lost but felt driven to something bigger than herself. 

I am always amazed by what I have done, seen, and learned, the people I have met and loved and lost, and the journey I continue on each day. Only now I am a woman and have packed that girl away.* 

*Thanks to lots of work with my therapist

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Every winter I fall into a spiral of stress and feeling lost- living in almost Canada with frigid temps and bleak views. But then one day every year, it all changes. I go outside and there are the first signs- these beautiful little flowers start popping up everywhere. 

If I could, I would cover my lawn with crocuses.

These flowers are a sign that nothing is forever. The only thing that is for sure is change. They lie under the muck and fight their way through piles of crud to show themselves in the sun. 

Change can physically hurt, but it is necessary to keep moving to find the place where the beauty lies.

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The other day, one of my kids asked if I was "happy." I thought to myself that if she had to ask, she couldn't tell by looking at me. I explained to her that I have learned that the happiness that we see in movies and TV (and now social media) is not attainable and it will drive someone crazy to try to achieve it. It is shown with smiles and laughter and scenes of groups of people all having a perfect time- but that is not real life. Happiness can also be contentment. Feeling at peace. Feeling surrounded by love. I don't need to have a perma-grin or belly laugh to feel that.

What I have learned in my 47 years is that beauty and peace look different for everyone. 

But we as a society tend to focus on sameness. Achieving what others have. Keeping up with the Jones'. We join groups and read articles and watch reels that say what we "should" be feeling, or "should" be doing, instead of looking internally at what it is that affects us for the positive. Hint: It is not social media.

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My goal in my 47th year is to focus on the small moments, the times when my soul finds peace and contentment. To ignore the nonsense, the distractions, and the stuff we just need to get through to get to the other side. 

I identify with the crocus. I get piled on with crap- sometimes small, sometimes huge- and eventually I pop through the piles of shit and shine myself in the sun for the world to see. Layer on all the sticks and dead leaves and mud and snow you can, but I WILL persevere. 

And when I reach into the sun and find my moment of contentedness, I know that it is different for the tulip, the daffodil, the rose, the hyacinth... we all have different needs, but we are all beautiful creatures sharing this space.

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The purpose of this blog is to share. To share stories of things I have learned through the hospitality industry, business ownership, parenthood, homeownership, marriage, and everything in between. I hope that you may use those lessons as appropriate to jump past in your own life- and maybe take a snippet of another perspective on your way.