sons help

A peek into my homeschool room

Remodeling means you get a peek into my homeschool room.

homeschool-room

Though I’d really rather you not. It’s a sad story, really. I never wanted a homeschool room. Not one that looked like a classroom, anyway. I wanted one that looked like a library, with a table for games and art and projects. I wanted inviting space with a reading nook and maybe a blanket and a few teddy bears. I wanted a place for discovery and expression.

What I got was a ten foot by ten foot by ten foot cube.

Once the bookshelves were in, there was no room for a table. I added some bean bag chairs which were actually quite comfortable . . . while they lasted. Then one or two or three of my children thought it would be great fun to jump out of the top of the closet and use the bean bags as landing pads.

It may have been great fun for them, but it was not so pleasant for the bean bags.

So the bookshelves filled up. My husband took out the closet so I became overwhelmed with stuff that had no place to belong. My son decided he couldn’t sleep in his room anymore and started sleeping on the library floor. I took mercy on him and bought him a couch bed to sleep on. And then his stuff started piling up. And some of my daughter’s stuff. And all of this other stuff I didn’t know what to do with.

And the next thing I knew, my little dream space filled with learning and activity and creativity became the room where you put stuff and closed the door so you didn’t have to deal with it.

Then my husband knocked out the wall. This has been a dream of his since we bought the place. And it really doesn’t look too bad. Except I don’t have a place for all this stuff. And I can’t just close the door. I have to deal with it Every. Single. Time. I look at it.

Instead of a little dreamspace, it seems more a symbol of homeschooling derailed.

Now it is calling me, beckoning me, crying for me to deal with it.

In some manner, I know not how. But interior design is a school subject, isn’t it? Sure. We’ll deal with this dream that almost was, and call it school.

And maybe we can make it inviting, yet.