Don't expect coherence

Imagine being locked in a room with no windows and no doors and no furniture and no way out and no way in. And by the way, the room is pumped full of blurry foggyfog stuff. Then you have to build a fully-functioning scale model of a spaceship.

That is in my head right now.

This is how my planning starts. I have to wander about in the blurry vacant room, not even able to stare at the walls or the floor or the ceiling, and yet I have to create a plan. One that will work. Then I have to make lots of plans. On everything. And make everything work.

Sometimes it gets too much. I plan to have no plan. But that feels horrible too, and I despair.

I am in this twilight zone of home education. But I have been here before. I feel responsible for leading my kids around the world towards everything, including spaceships that work, yet I am in control of nothing. This is my home education fogland. If I try and lead the feral offspring too much anywhere, they go berserk, slap each other about, and we all get grounded. If I back off and don't lead them anywhere, they go berserk, slap each other about, and we all get grounded.

The strategy I adopt mostly is to start off at the beginning of each month and think ahead. What would the kids like to do and learn about? What I would like them to do and learn about? What do I feel they should do? What is useful, beautiful and valuable to learn about? What would I like to do, for myself?

The way through all this is usually that I plan some dates and events and, for other times, let the feral offspring do stuff on their own.

But this approach is frustrating too. Because inevitably, three different kids each want to do three different things on the same day at the same time. Sometimes involving the same pencil. Which means at some point in the month they will go berserk, slap each other about, and we all get grounded.

You can see why I think of this moment as the fogland. It's like a place I can't get out of. It all makes me ask questions like, Can kids have autonomy without violence? How much does sibling rivalry interfere with independence? Where should the balance lie, between autonomy, responsibility, independence, interdependence, and the sisterly ripping each other apart thing? Why do I know that at some moment I will be moved to yell that I am banishing all pencils forever from the house and they will all be put in a shed at the bottom of the garden and anyone who wants a pencil will have to sign a special book for pencil removal?

If only one tiny part of my mind could be occupied with these matters, that would be good.

Unfortunately, large parts of my head are completely submerged in these philosophical and educational issues, and for a few wasted and pointless days I will wander about, incoherently making noises and pathetically unable to complete any routine task, like slicing bread, drinking coffee, buying food, or even sitting passively down and watching Coronation Street.

At every moment my head sinks back into that lost and timeless fogland, otherwise called planning.

Frequently, I think of one question that, if I answer, might solve all others. But I must not ask that question. Logically, I know it won't solve anything. But it doesn't matter. Because some days, when the planning and the thinking and the fogland get too much, I would still like to ask, and answer it. And that question is, How do I make it all stop and get out?