Successful Homeschooling

or How I Got Out of It

by Hillary Harvey, April 07, 2009

At some point recently, I sat on the edge of my bed donning a long sock when Zoë came to me and said she wanted to make a Harry Potter doll. I said, "Oh?" I knew she meant right that minute, and I knew that it would be more involved than that.  Not looking up, I asked her how she'd like to do it. She began to describe various methods involving stuffing cotton balls into fabric and "sewing it up". I smiled at how easy it sounded.  Maybe it was.  However, many of our conversations begin this way. "Mom, I have an idea. Let's..."  And then we end up elbow deep in papier mache or cake batter or something.

At the time, it was the end of the day, and I was just going to start dinner, or it was just after dinner and I wanted her to get ready for bed, or something like that. I said that we should look at different "recipes" for making dolls and do it another day. I said, “You know, J makes dolls all the time, and we could see if she could show us.”  But being slightly hot on her own idea, Zoë said she already knew how to make a doll and we could do it "right now". This worried me for a moment because it seems that Zoë often feels the need to be in charge when playing with friends, and it's really hard for her to go with their flow and be receptive to their ideas sometimes. But that's age appropriate, so I emailed J's mom the next day to ask for a doll-making playdate nonetheless.

I mostly wanted to do the doll-making with someone who had some experience because I knew it would be less work for me: minus all the figuring it out and research I'd have to do. I've never made a doll, and especially not one that looked like someone specific, and I've never happened upon any directions on how to do so in my travels through The Atlantic, The New Yorker, or Mothering magazines.  I also thought that asking for help with something we knew someone else was into would be good practice for Zoë in developing that sense of receptivity.

Luckily, we went to the exact right place. J had several dolls she'd made in various fashions: girls, mice, bunnies, etc. And J's mom is a total artist about creating things. They had bought a book on making dolls and stuffed animals out of socks that they’d borrowed from the library originally when J showed interest. J’s mom was so into the idea, she got right back to me about what to bring and when we could do it and who else we could invite. Her excitement was contagious. So after about a week of anticipation, we went to their house and cozied up in their gorgeous studio and worked at making dolls. In about two hours, Harry Potter was born.

Zoë and I worked side-by-side: me holding the work, tying the knots and helping her with understanding the various steps; she doing all the stitching, cutting, and decision-making about the colors and basic look of the doll. While Zoë kept looking at J’s bird doll and remarking nervously about how far along J was with it, there was much more fun than conflict as Zoë settled into her role of Student. We had lots of fun when the dolls were headless, imagining what they would be saying and how they would be feeling about their unsecured heads.  And there was some discussion about whether or not to use button eyes - we'd recently seen Coraline - but in the end, we decided to be brave.

When we left, Zoë was so proud of her accomplishment, she showed the doll off to anyone who hadn't yet seen him, which was most everyone at the supermarket.  She was so happy, she kept saying, "I love you, mommy." I felt really great about it, too. Zoë had brought me something that was beyond my knowledge and comfort base, and I'd found someone in the homeschool community who could help us both learn. And it was really fun to try something new.  There’s this strange dichotomy in being a homeschooling mom: I’m exploring the world again and learning new things all the time, and I also feel responsible for being an expert on each and every little thing that might possibly come my way.  Sometimes I am better able to balance those feelings, where I can discover while simultaneously practicing with leadership.  Sometimes that balance tips to the insecurity side.

When we got "Harry" home, Zoë kept describing to him all the things he couldn't see because we hadn't yet done his glasses. And he kept saying, "I'm cold! Help! I'm cold!" because we hadn't yet done his robes. So the next morning, we made those first-thing. Zoë was really pleased. When the babysitter came later that afternoon, "Harry" was the first thing Zoë showed her.  She said, "I made him!"  And I felt a little bit swelled.