Hmm, this post might be a little offensive to some.  But I felt the need to come clean.

I am a suburbia-dwelling homeschool mom.  I can admit it proudly.

I enjoy neighborhoods with sidewalks and parks.  I enjoy yards and a landscaped lawn.

I do not have a garden.  My thumb would never be considered green.

I paint my toes and I dream of facials.

I own a pair of leggings (actually 5) and I wear shorts and tank tops with sparkly flip flops-to show off my hot pink toes.

I don’t have a single pet-not a newt, not a fish, not a snake, not a mouse, not a dog, and definitely not a goat.

Before I moved, I had a housekeeper who visited us on occasion.  I miss her dearly.

I use my dryer (and never a clothes line) and sometimes even buy detergent at the store (it’s always organic, but still). 

I don’t make my own clothes or crochet or knit.  I cannot even sew on a single button.  I actually pay others to do those jobs for me or ask them very, very nicely-you know who you are.

I send things out to the cleaners-sometimes even the ironing.  Prince Charming has to wear a suit and tie every. single. day. and sometimes the laundry and ironing is too much.

I do not use cloth diapers.  I just can’t do it; it’s so not worth it to me.

I enjoy convenience, dinners out, and being close to a Target for emergency situations.

So there are my confessions.  Can we still be friends?

Why does it even matter?  Well, sometimes there is a secret battle between homeschool moms-who can be the most homestead-ish, self-sufficient, frugal, organic, super amazing teacher/homemaker.

I do not make the cut.  I’m ok with that.  I don’t dream of having a farm with animals and growing my own food.  I sometimes take the easy way out and head to the nearest store.  I even like to delegate.

Let me give you the back story….Once upon a time, we were invited to a little get together at the house of a fellow homeschool family.  We accepted the invitation.  After lots of touring the countryside and trying to read mailbox numbers, we found the dirt road leading to their house.  Bumping down their drive I had to scream a warning to Prince Charming, “Do. Not. Hit. The. Chickens!!!!!”
These poor chicks lacked street smarts.  They were weaving through cars and strutting down the driveway.
We did eventually make it past the little flock and I am proud to say we did not hit one.
I actually *knew* they had chickens, it just slipped my mind, and I completely forgot to warn Prince Charming.  He was very unprepared for the driveway obstacle course.
As we piled out of the car and tried to escape from the chickens, the hostess greeted us.  She commented that she wasn’t sure how we would react to the chickens or if we’d ever be brave enough to visit again.

And that comment has stuck with me – for over a year that statement has bothered me.  Now, I don’t have chickens but I sure don’t care if you do.  Don’t think for one minute that I categorize homeschoolers and can only be friends with the suburbia-dwelling ones.  Nope.  You can freely admit your love of clothes pins, show me your stack of cloth diapers, give me some produce from your garden, and I might even ask you to sew on a button.

While we’re not the homesteading homeschoolers, we do have our very own version of weird.  

We don’t have a TV.  And we don’t miss it.

We eat mostly organic.  We’re kinda crunchy granola that way.

We do lots of cooking from scratch.  And yes, I do bake my own GF bread.

Our two youngest were born at home-with midwives.  It was wonderful!

I love natural remedies and use them as often as I can.  Doctors are rarely my favorite people.

Sometimes I make my own cleaning supplies.

We do have more than the national average when it comes to little people.  But ours are just so cute, and the world could always use more cute people.

The kids ask to do school.  They mutiny if I mention a day off.

So, we don’t exactly fit neatly into anyone’s box-homestead or suburbs.  

I’ve made my confessions.  I’m happy with our version of homeschool life.  And I wish you the best in yours.

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