Home school slumps and Winter layers

I have just finished my workout (an integral part of taking care of myself in a world where my kids are always around me) and am sitting in front of a full basket of clean laundry.

“I don’t know what is wrong with me.” I tell my husband.

“Why do you think something is wrong?” He asks me.

“Well, my workout felt really hard today even though it was the same as yesterday. I keep yawning, I can’t get going. It’s like I am tired.”

“Are you…tired?” He asks.

“Yes, I am. I don’t get it, I slept well last night, I am just tired today.” I say as I sift through laundry trying to find a pair of yoga pants that are only slightly different than the ones I wore yesterday.

It’s interesting that the first thought I have when I feel tired is that something is wrong. Lacking my usual level of energy or motivation must mean I am not okay. Twelve years of homeschooling, and although the influence of whatever else life shuffles our way offers variations on what a year looks like, basically each year the flow is the same. September brings with it an abundance of inspiration that has certainly dropped off by December…right in time for a break. In January, the Christmas tree comes down, the decorations are packed up for the year and there is a renewal of energy heading into the next part of our “school year”. This burst of energy though doesn’t get me through like the one that September offered. Sometimes the curriculum that I once loved brings me boredom. The once sharpened new pencils feel dull, the pointy tips of crayons, worn down to being level with their paper sleeves. February has hit.

February is undoubtedly one of the hardest months for many home school families and I would imagine the same may be true for educators and families in conventional school settings. In February the nagging voice of doubt creeps in…..in no particular order this list mounds….

-Have they learned enough?

-Have they learned anything?

-Is this working?

-Does homeschooling even work for us?

-Did I choose the right topics to cover this year?

These questions generally invade my quiet space and demand answers, even when I am not sure I have them. And like this morning, I realize, I am tired.

Then it dawns on me. It is Winter. Winter is the season of rest. Winter is the season that the roots of the tallest trees remain buried under layers of earth and leaves. Winter is the season that animals hibernate. Winter is the season that bulbs only grow under the mounds of dirt and even the sun, rests more of the day. We don’t expect tulips to bloom in January. We don’t expect lakes to warm for swimming in February. Are we any different? Our biology and our intellect of being human makes us different than a plant, but are our primal needs that different? We don’t choose to winter down though. Quite the opposite really, we host big holiday gatherings, we make resolutions to work our bodies harder, we harshly judge our craving for meals that stick to our bones. Animals build a thicker layer for winter and like animals (that we often forget we are) we do too. Our once sun soaked feet now don thick socks. We cast off t-shirts and shorts for warm pajama, we eat the carbs, we slow cook pot roasts, we make our Grandma’s recipe for chicken and dumplings. Recipes that take all day to cook, recipes that fill your kitchen with the smells of home.

In reality, one of the things that probably feels so good about the winter holidays is the home making.

I live in the Pacific Northwest, where SAD (seasonal affective disorder) is discussed as openly as the merits of sustainably farmed, oat milk lattes. I am forced to wonder though if the tug toward a winter depression relates to my ignoring what my body and brain are asking for? Am I neglecting my need to rest? To pull back? That need to slow down with nature. Is that feeling of “not keeping up” real? Or is it a narrative we have accepted…that keeping up with the pace of other seasons should be the norm. When the sun is out and the air is warm, I long to get out to my yard work. I crave the tired body and sore muscles that my hobby garden brings. If you told me today to go outside and work in my yard you would be met with tremendous resistance. Not only is it cold, my body does not crave that work right now. That does not mean I am lazy, it is simply, not the season.

Wintering down is what our bodies crave. When they ask us for rest and repair we push them harder. When I was tired on the elliptical today, I didn’t stop, I increased the resistance, I increased the incline. Almost like a punishment to my body who was only asking me for a break today. When I am tired, my patience are short, which only injures the bonds of love that I work to create. Yet I adhere to lessons that aren’t working instead of cuddling up and reading something they love. The comparison and contradiction striking really, I want my body to be stronger so I push it, even when it asks for rest. I want to model patience but I behave in a way that creates separation. Perhaps in February, home school needs time to winter down as well. Maybe we put away some of the lessons we thought we would do and trade them for a day, week, month, of coloring or puzzles or naps. Perhaps we give ourselves and our children the very thing they are asking for. Rest, repair, replenishment. Feeding our souls. Resting our bodies. Releasing our minds from the rigors of routine. Why do we give ourselves permission to take a holiday off but not an ordinary Tuesday? Truth be told, those holidays off aren’t always that restful. Is it possible that those nagging questions about home school aren’t in fact concerns but a sign that I need a break? That we need a break.

We are part of nature. Why do we ignore the possibility that we need the seasons just as the world outside our door does? How absurd would it be to demand a perfectly ripe peach to grow in the middle of the darkest time of the year? We wouldn’t, it wouldn’t make sense. We are like those fruit trees. Root deep, rest, repair, grow, blossom, bear fruit- even though we have access to most fruits now year around, should we?

We all know that in the right season of growth, the fruit is the best.