Homeschool Burnout

Copyright - Deb Erbach Burger Used with permission.

Burnout: Does this describe you right now?

Many veteran homeschoolers hit a wall of discouragement and weariness some time in their second decade of homeschooling. It can take several forms, but often it looks like one of these scenarios:

Your 12th grader is anxious about his college scholarship application essays, and you wonder if you really have adequately prepared him to write college papers. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, your 8-year-old, in a great display of responsibility and initiative, is making her own sandwich… and smears jelly on the financial aide forms that her brother left on the table. You don’t know how to fix the forms, or even which child to correct, and feel like exploding. Again.

Or, does this one sound familiar?—

You are organizing home school materials during the summer, for the start of the new school year. You have arranged all the necessary subjects for your high schooler, and as you are pulling things out of the storage closet for younger children, your eyes meet the box of Phonics materials. You realize with a sudden and deep sense of dread that it’s time to teach that youngest child how to read, and you’re not sure if you can even face the contents of that box one more time.

Or perhaps this one is more like your situation:

You are planning activities and a field trip for your elementary-years brood, but can’t figure out what to do with the teens who roll their eyes at yet another trip to the fire station. Or the zoo. Or the wonderful historical re-enactment they loved a few years ago. A dilemma faces you, and it’s becoming all too familiar: do you choose to skip the trip, depriving the younger kids of the educational richness the older ones got, for the sake of pursuing older kid interests with the “trip time” you have? Do you drag the eye-rolling and totally unenthusiastic teens on a trip that really won’t add anything, at this point, to their educations, and takes time away from Chemistry? Do you leave the older ones at home, and worry about how their time is being spent? Or do you cancel the idea of trip altogether and go back to bed? We all began homeschooling with the knowledge that it wouldn’t be easy, and all who have become “veterans” have overcome many obstacles and trials along the way. Yet we find ourselves weary and discouraged, if we are honest enough with ourselves to admit it. The task has begun to seem never-ending, and juggling a wide variety of academic levels seems to require more hands and brains than any mom has. We know that Scripture admonishes us to “not grow weary in well-doing” (II Thessalonians 3:13, Hebrews 12:3) and yet, we have grown weary—bone weary and heart weary. At this point there are several dangers to our homeschooling, and many of us fall into one or the other of them.

The first possibility is to give up on homeschooling the older children, sending them to public or private school, to preserve peace at home. I know that God calls some older students to school, and those families need to be obedient to that call, but for many of us, it’s a “justifiable compromise” that we rationalize by many means. Is school the best option for this child’s education and growth, this year? Or is school a means of allowing me to avoid the challenges of teaching a teen, and “camp” in the sort of homeschool teaching I have become confident in, good at, and where there are eager young learners to reward me with their delight each day? Is it possible that I am sending off my older child out of my own fear of failure, and a commitment to stay in my own comfort zone? This is a tough question for a weary parent to face, I know.

Another possible reaction to the weariness of the second decade is to become grim and dogged in our determination to “stay the course.” I may have no joy in this endeavor now, and my joylessness is probably spreading to my children, causing conflict, rebellious attitudes and a lack of excellence in our learning, but I will not give up. By the sheer power of my will to obey, we will all drag ourselves through another day, another month, another school year….

The third common reaction is to give up entirely. Some financial, family relationship or health crisis arises, and we decide that we will have to give up homeschooling, while Mom takes a job. This same trial, if it appeared five or eight years ago, might have driven us to seek closer dependence on God’s provision, inspired us to creative solutions, or taught us lessons in “doing without.” But this time, I am just too weary, and it seems clear that the only solution is to send my kids to school and join the workforce. Yes, of course, there are families whose obedience to God requires their children to go to school, and I am not criticizing that obedience at all. But, because of that fact, the option becomes a snare to some of us who are called to persevere.

I am intimately acquainted with each of these mistakes, having made each of them at different times during that second ten years! Now, as I enter the third decade of homeschooling, I look back and see the provision that rescued me each time. There is hope for weary homeschool parents. It is possible to succeed joyfully with the second and even third “batch” of children to reach each stage. In order to overcome weariness and continue with joy and excellence, we need to do three things. These may seem simple, but they are not necessarily easy. We need to: 1)Take a large dose of honesty before the Lord; 2)Re-focus our perspective; and 3)Start fresh.

The first step to curing our worn weariness is honesty. We have to admit to ourselves, our spouses and our Father the truth about how we are feeling. It is humbling, especially as this particular discouragement tends to strike just when it seems outwardly that we are succeeding, managing, doing so well. However, my spouse can’t pray for me and help me with the problem if I am keeping it to myself. I can’t even ask for prayer and help if I am denying it to myself; and we know that it is the “humble and broken heart” that God rescues. At this point the truth is not pretty, but necessary. I am weary. I am unmotivated; I am discouraged; I have no fresh ideas and can’t motivate myself to find any. If I could make myself do better, I would (see mistake number 2 above) but I have reached the end of my strength.

Well, the good news is that I don’t have to do it alone. Merely acknowledging the truth is liberating, and places me in a position to receive comfort and strength. Praying and talking together, my spouse and I need to understand some facts that may have slipped by us:

~I am not exactly the same woman or mother I was when we started this adventure. For one thing, I am older—my body is not as flexible, needs more time to recover from stresses, and has less native energy. I may also be approaching or experiencing menopause, with the hormonal variations that can begin five years or more before other symptoms. Or perhaps a long series of pregnancies and lactation have depleted my physical reserves, prevented me from regular exercise and left me overweight (or underweight), out of shape and much less confident about myself than I was when homeschooling began. I may not have had an uninterrupted night’s sleep in several years, and I may be suffering from the latent effects of long-term sleep deficit and nutritional lacks as well. Besides the physical changes, I am not exactly the same woman or mother emotionally and spiritually, either. My interests may have changed (a sign of growth, and not necessarily bad) but may have gone unexplored and unexpressed. My expectations and hopes have probably undergone several “reality checks” and have changed. My outlook on life, my marriage, relationship with God, relationships in the church, extended family, neighborhood and community have all grown and changed, while the structures of my life and schedule may have remained essentially the same.

~My family is not exactly the same family as when I started homeschooling, either. There may be more children now; or some may have grown and left home. A family comprised of infant, toddler, pre-schooler and first-grader is different in many ways from a family of third-grader, middle-schooler, two teens and a “surprise” new baby. When we began, I was the only person in the house whose hormonal swings were an issue, but now, children of both sexes may be dealing with the effects of puberty on their emotions and bodies. There are different needs and expectations, different demands on my time, different relationships between the siblings. The children have different kinds of activities in different contexts than when they were all young. But the ones young now have the same needs as the older ones had at that age. And the older ones need acknowledgement and provision for their real developmental needs, as well.

~My community may not be the same, either. We may have moved to a different church, a different town or state, or a different lifestyle. (The urban neighborhood where my own homeschooling adventure began gave way first to a rural homestead and then the suburbs… in five successive states!) My support group has changed, too, as families relocate, graduate, or quit/start homeschooling. Once I was mainly a receiver of support and encouragement, but now there’s a crop of new homeschool moms who look to me for wisdom.

There may be other areas of change, but these are some that I have seen affect my own life and the lives of other moms I know. We experience the changes one at a time, or a few at a time, and don’t realize the magnitude of total difference till we sit back and evaluate honestly. It makes sense that I have become discouraged, if I am trying to apply the same methods, approaches and schedule I used when I was ten years younger, my family was ten years younger (and smaller), and we lived in different circumstances in a different place! Yet we are creatures of habit, and many of us are wearing ourselves out, using the homeschooling and home-keeping methods and approaches that were good for our family once-upon-a-time, but don’t fit now. None of us would expect a child to wear the same pair of shoes year after year. We know that it would deform their feet painfully-- it would be cruel and senseless. But we treat ourselves and our homeschools that way, expecting the same program of study, the same division of labor, the same level of activity and involvement outside home, to fit and function year after year. No wonder some of us are feeling painfully deformed, and looking for an escape from the adventure that has become a prison!

After a good dose of honesty has allowed us to see the scope and specifics of our situation, we may already have some ideas about how to change and grow our homeschools so that they express the reality of God’s call and provision in the present moment; and so that we and our children continue to grow and flourish through homeschooling. On the other hand, an honest look may have only made the problem more overwhelming! In either case, the next step is to re-focus perspective.

Having acknowledged the state of my heart and the size and shape of some of the challenges, I need to focus first on the source of provision. I wasn’t called to educate my children at home because God thought I was the best qualified, strongest, smartest woman available. I was called to homeschool so that I would be constantly developing my dependence on Him. The truth is that I really need His strength, His wisdom, His provision every day. Those may not come in the forms I am used to looking for. I may need to grow in my relationship and trust of God, as we move into more and more “unfamiliar territory.” But each weary veteran can look back on a long series of situations in which God has shown his ability and commitment to meet our real needs. I can shift my focus from the problems, which I have confessed and acknowledged, to the source of answers. I can pray for new ways to see the priorities of my home, family and school, so that they reflect the reality of God’s present provision and leading for my family. I can also gaze with gratitude on all that has been accomplished!

Another perspective that may need to shift is that of my expectations. If my “family self-image” is still based on a mental snapshot of all my little ones bent over their books around the dining room table, while I stir a savory pot on the stove, I may need to look again. Save that memory, yes-- and check to see what God is doing with my active, growing family today. God created different sorts of things on each of the 6 days of Genesis, each in their proper order and context, and he called them all GOOD. This time and season of my family’s life is different from what came before it, but it is of God’s making, and it is GOOD. I need to look closely at what God is doing NOW. What is growing and being expressed in the lives of my children? Are our schedule, curriculum, rules and expectations appropriate to today? What good things am I currently ignoring, that I can focus on and nurture. What changes will that require of me? If we as a family are to flourish and grow, my perspective must embrace this moment in time, and God’s plan for it, releasing the past, while I cherish its good memories.

A change in my perspective about God’s work in my family leads me toward the third step: starting fresh. When we veterans began homeschooling, we had a sense of being called into a fearful but exciting adventure. Each day and each new year held its own challenges, and we relished the way we saw ourselves and our children growing in the process. Is it hard to remember that feeling? Better than remembering, is recapturing it.

The reality is that each day is a new chance. Each year I have the option to make changes. If that dreaded Phonics program has nothing to offer except familiarity (I know by heart, now, which lessons will make my child weep in frustration, and which ones will do the same to me!), then perhaps I should look at another approach to the same material. The intervening decade has seen a lot of curriculum development. There are options I have never considered, that might work as well or better, and would also be a new learning adventure for my child and for me. Some of the aspects I dread may be actual weaknesses in the program, intrinsic, or related to my teaching style or my child’s learning style. Start fresh—pretend you have never yet taught a child to read, and research what is available and affordable.

I may be feeling guilty about other curriculum decisions, too. I want to repeat with the younger set the same exact successes I enjoyed with the older ones, but all the changes in our family make up and circumstance have made that difficult or impossible. So—start fresh! Suppose you were beginning to homeschool this year, with this family size and age. What would you choose, and what would you do? You have the advantage of having already made mistakes and learned from them. You have wisdom under your belt, and have learned much about yourself and your children, about education and options.

Start fresh and put your knowledge to use, instead of relying on habit. There is a great market for selling your used curriculum, both locally and on the internet. You don’t have to be stuck with it forever. Attend a book fair, and instead of going to all your usual, habitual booths merely to purchase the next level materials for your eldest, check out something radically different. Remember the days when the very idea of teaching your own children was radical and different to you? Yes, there was fear and trembling involved, but there was also an atmosphere similar to Christmas shopping. We chose items believing and hoping they would please and fit. We anticipated using new ideas and approaches. You can choose to approach each successive year with that same sense of adventure, if you are willing to risk unfamiliarity, and once again join your children as a learner.

One of the Scripture passages that deals with perseverance is Revelation 2, Jesus’ words to the church at Ephesus. They apply to many of us in the second decade of home education:

“I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance… You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown utterly weary. Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen”(Revelation 2:2-4, NIV) How can we regain our first love, in the area of our call to teach our children at home? At times I need to remind myself of what is at stake: why am I doing this, anyway? When I return to the reasons God showed us at the beginning, the goals he gave us, the challenge he laid out for us, I am encouraged. This is a battle worth fighting. I also need to remember that it never was about my level of intelligence, creativity, energy or ability. It has always been about dependence on God. I can renew my commitment to see myself as a small part of the equation, instead of as Atlas carrying the weight of the world.

Not only is this a battle worth fighting to the end, but I do not fight it alone. Armed with honesty about my condition, a fresh perspective on God’s provision, and a refreshed vision, I can face the next decade of homeschooling—with confidence and joy! I can even share the wisdom I have gained (sometimes painfully) with those coming after me.

Hebrews also sheds an encouraging light on the challenges of veteran homeschoolers: Consider him who endured such opposition …, so that you may not grow weary and lose heart…Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. ‘Make level paths for your feet,’ so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed. (Hebrews 12:3, 12-13, NIV)

My choice to focus my attention on the work God is doing in my family (as opposed to seeing it as my work) will prevent weariness, and the loss of heart. Making level paths for my feet may mean designing a program that takes into account the realities of my current family situation and personal abilities. My feeble arms and weak knees grow strong when I pay attention to them, exercising them consistently. This truth can apply to my physical body, which needs different care in middle age than before. It also applies to my growth as a teacher and learner. As I recognize an area of weakness, an alternative to despair or wishful thinking, is to educate myself. I can learn ways to cope with learning disabilities and differences, with physical and emotional challenges, with curricular failures and differing methods. I am challenged to recognize weakness, grow stronger, and in the meantime, use a “level path” so as not to further aggravate the struggle. I must give up any unrealistic expectations and wishes that have become obstacles in the road.

Not only have we carried worn out habits of curriculum and method into the second decade of homeschooling, but we also tend to carry memories of our own failures, our children’s frustrations, and the ideas that didn’t work out well. It can be a struggle to set those aside, but the more we are consciously aware of the past that is hanging over our heads, the more able we are to lay it down before the Lord, and move on in freedom. Here’s the truth: this year is a new start. You are not the same as you were; your family is not the same; God’s provision and guidance are freshly available; there are new methods and media to try; and a new adventure awaits. Take heart, veterans!

This article was used with permission.

Author bio: Deb Erbach Burger homeschooled her 4 children for 20 years, in 5 states. Deb has been a popular speaker at homeschool conferences in the Carolinas for the past 10 years, and is the author of The Living Literature Series of senior high English Unit Studies, as well as the book, Growing Great Writers. She lives in the mountains of western North Carolina.

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