A Blessing in Disguise.

I was recently inspired by a conversation on Facebook between a slew of siblings.  They were going back and forth with inside --family-- jokes...and it would be safe to say they were the only ones who knew what all the hubbub was about.  It was hilarious.  But it also instantly reminded me of my siblings and how we often interact with each other…

But where does it come from -- this beauty of personal, even sometimes silent, communication.

From 2nd-6th grade, I was homeschooled.  I will be the first to admit that I obtain some of the stereotypical-because-you-were-homeschooled tendencies.  It happens.  I will also be the first to (honestly) tell you how I really felt about being homeschooled...

Truth --

I hated being homeschooled.  I did not care for 4-H or sewing or knitting or wearing dresses, which was apparently the "norm" for the homeschooling population that I grew up with (which my mother never forced me to conform to, despite the loads of bologna she got for it...hallelujah).  I could never find my niche, as apparently everyone else managed to do.  School was boring.  Most of my learning was done through textbooks (homeschooling curriculum), and the only time I was with other students is when other homeschooling families collaborated, which was more rare than not.  People thought we were weird because my brother and I did not go to (real) school…"Do your parents not believe in school?" 

If I had a dollar for every time I was asked that…

At the time, it felt like a trap -- and I wanted out.  There were even times that I thought maybe I did something wrong or something was wrong with me...my parents were embarrassed of me or something (but it should be noted that I had a beyond-the-typical imagination of a child -- I am blessed with very proud parents).  I just wanted to feel normal for once.  But I knew from deep down somewhere that my parents were doing what they thought was best -- I believed them. 

So I just continued on, hoping that it would all make sense some day. 

Now as a Junior in college and am about to venture home for the Christmas holidays, I cannot wait to see my family, to say the least -- they are so precious to me.  Being away is so unnatural, as I spent most of my life in my house with my family, growing up together.  And sure, that is the case for most kids...for anyone; time spent with loved ones is special, often even more than that.  But there are no words to express the bond that I have with my mother, with my father, with my sister, with my brother -- because they were there literally every day, whether I wanted it or not...which I often take for granted. 

If I would have been in school all those years, I would have missed watching my baby sister grow up and being able to teach her what being a kid was all about.  I would not have had the incredible opportunity of being best friends and partners in crime with my big brother, which is not the case for many little sisters.  There were places that I got to go and things that I got to see that other kids could not, because I was home.  For heaven sakes, the three of us (myself and my siblings) all share the smallest bedroom in the house when we are all home together, just because we do not want to be apart for that long...and maybe that is one of those stereotypical-because-you-were-homeschooled tendencies, but it is what I look forward to most when I go home.  It is perfect.  I would not have it any other way.  

This is why we do not have to talk to speak.  This is why I want to be home more often than not.  This is why I love my family the way I love my family.  This is why I am the way that I am.  

It all makes sense now.

Thank you, Mom and Dad -- for our family.