I can hardly believe it. As I sit him at the table on the morning of his first day, we look at each other. I have never been intimidated by my son (at least not this son - ha ha), but I'm thinking, "You know? This is a bit intimidating. He's looking at me all expectantly, 'OK Mommy - lay it on me! Teach me everything I need to know to function in this world.' D'Oh! Can I actually do this?!? When one uses public school, if their kids turn out psycho, they can shift some of the blame. Not so with homeschooling. It's all me. No one else to look to. What if my boys turn out to be nonfunctional members of society, or worse - Democrats? What do I say then? 'Whoopsie! My bad!' " My breathing quickens as I realize that I have until he's the age of 18 to turn this kid into a fully functioning adult, "that's only 13 school years! And we're not even proficient with scissors yet! Ohmigosh what about Algebra? I suck at Algebra! When did Columbus sail?! WHEN WAS IT?!?"
Then I hear, "Mommy? What do we do first?" I finally realize what's first. Or, rather, Who. "Solomon, let's start with prayer." I realize it's not what I know, but Who. That's why I'm doing this. To share who I know with my son. His creation will be explored, memorized and studied, but first, foremost, my son must know the Creator. That's my job. Everything else will come. "Let's pray, Sol. Then we'll work on letters."
