The Road Less Taught

One thing I’ve realized is that we’re not homeschooling just for the “school” part.

✨ We’re homeschooling for the lifestyle. ✨

Our days naturally include academics, but they also include things that I think matter just as much: personal responsibility, helping around the house, taking care of pets, getting outside, moving our bodies, creating, solving conflicts, communicating, reading, following interests, and learning how to simply be part of a family team.

And yes, my kids play video games and watch TV.

We’re not anti-screen.

We just try not to let it become the main event. It’s one part of life, not the center of it.

The more I’ve focused on building a lifestyle I want my kids to carry into adulthood, the less tightly I’ve held onto academics.

Not because academics don’t matter.

But because I’ve come to believe that the learning that sticks is often the learning that connects to a person’s interests, goals, and real life. That’s REAL learning. The learning that stays with us and isn’t forgotten the moments it’s regurgitated onto a worksheet or test.

That’s the beauty of homeschooling for us.

It’s never really been about recreating school at home.

It’s about creating a life where learning is woven into the day. And it’s honestly so amazing to see. Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

Hope this helps 🫶🏼

A summer of UNlearning and RElearning for us parents ☀️

Add your favourite recommendations in the comments 👇🏼

I used to hold a lot of beliefs about how things HAD to be when it came to kids, school, and family life … and over time, many of them have shifted … and continue to shift.

I’m curious what yours were.

What’s a belief you grew up with, or once felt strongly about, that you’ve since questioned or completely changed your mind on?

One memory from when my son was around 5 still sticks with me. ❤️‍🩹 I’m giving myself a big hug as I re-tell this experience.

We were at the library and there was a table full of trains, cars, tracks, all the fun stuff. Another little boy was playing there too, probably around 2 or 3 years old.

My son decided all the vehicles were blasting off into space. 🚀

The younger boy was fascinated by him. Watching him. Copying him. Laughing.

My son kept taking the vehicles the younger boy was using to show him how the game worked. Not because he was trying to be mean. Because in his 5 year old mind, he was trying to get him involved in the game he was imagining and creating.

As I observed, I could see two kids figuring each other out. But if I’m being fully honest, I could also feel myself getting hot & bothered …

That familiar pit in my stomach. Maybe you can relate to the feeling …

The other dad started making comments to his son.

“Don’t let him take that.”

“Come play over here.”

And eventually, “He’s being a bully. He’s taking all your toys. Don’t play with him.”

I remember feeling crushed.

Because while my son absolutely wasn’t navigating the interaction perfectly, “bully” wasn’t what I was seeing at all.

I was seeing a loud, enthusiastic, slightly overbearing 5 year old trying to lead a game.

I was seeing learning … yes, it was messy learning in some ways I guess. The kind that doesn’t always look good from the outside.

I ended up taking my son and leaving before he was ready for the game to end because I couldn’t handle the comments anymore. Ultimately, I just wanted to escape the situation.

Looking back, I realize so much of that moment wasn’t about my son at all.

❤️‍🩹 It was about me. ❤️‍🩹 … about much I cared what other people thought … and how hard it was to trust my own read on the situation when someone else was judging it so differently.

He’s almost 9 now and things are so much easier in many ways lol …

But I still think about that little boy version of him.

And I still remind myself: Not every loud child is a problem to solve. Sometimes they’re just a child growing right out in the open for everyone to see.

I know what it feels like to have a question sitting quietly in the back of your mind that you’re almost afraid to say out loud.

Not because you’re looking for something easy … not because you’re trying to purposely rebel against the norm.

But because something inside you keeps nudging you to look a little deeper … to ask the questions … to explore the other possibilities … the other paths.

The hardest part isn’t usually finding information … there is more information than ever before right at our fingertips.

The hardest part is learning to trust yourself when your thoughts don’t match what everyone around you seems to believe.

To go against the grain.

If this is where you are right now, you don’t need to rush. You don’t need to have your entire future figured out.

You are allowed to be curious … you’re allowed to ask questions … and you are allowed to imagine a different possibility for your family.

There was a time when I quietly worried about reading.

Not because I doubted my daughter, but because I was carrying years of conditioning about what learning is supposed to look like. (Especially as a former teacher…)

I knew I believed in natural learning. I knew I didn’t want to force lessons simply because her age said it was time. But I’d be lying if I said the thought never crossed my mind.

😟 “What if she falls behind?”

🥺 “What if I should be doing more?”

😔 “What if waiting is the wrong choice?”

Then something interesting happened.

She started asking questions. Pointing out letters. Trying to sound out words. Stopping mid-conversation to read signs. Demanding that I drag my finger along the book every time I read aloud to her so she could follow along.

And eventually she told me she wanted to learn to read like her big brother. 🥹

From that point on, my role wasn’t to initiate learning. It wasn’t to formally and suddenly turn into a teacher. It was to support her and guide her.

Sometimes that looked like helping her identify a letter sound while we were shopping. Sometimes it looked like reading together on the couch or before bed. Sometimes it looked like BOB Books, , sight words on the wall, or helping her write words on her art creations.

To an outsider, some of those things might for sure look “school-ish.”

And that’s the part I think gets misunderstood.

Natural learning doesn’t mean rejecting books, resources, apps, or skill-building.

It simply means that I invite those things in because she is genuinely interested and ready for them … not because she is a certain age and someone else (or a specific curriculum) decided it’s time.

And for me, the most beautiful part is that she sees reading the same way she sees making crafts, playing with her barbies, playing outside, or playing with Playdoh.

It’s just another thing she’s excited to learn and do.

And honestly, experiences like this continue to remind me that children are so capable! Far more capable than many of us were taught to believe.

Have you ever watched your child become completely obsessed with learning something on their own? I’d love to hear what it was 💛