Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

Reading this book was like watching the movie, Mary Poppins, in a crowded theater: it's a cute, engaging movie. Yet upon leaving the audience, the fellow viewers (which I liken to those giving this book 5 stars) are happily exclaiming among themselves, "wow, I feel so inspired! I can't wait to learn to fly like she did, and get my own magic carpet bag." I guess I'm the one who is looking at everyone shaking my head and going, "but you know it's not real, right?" And pardon the cynicism, but in looking at the book's and Instagram account's pictures, none of them depict what the magic of homeschooling ACTUALLY looks like. It's this sanitized, packaged, made-for-Instagram depiction. For example, pg 65: nature drawings are rad, but 1) a child definitely didn't draw this (why not show their honest work?) and 2) an open watercolor kit like that would get its colors muddied and mixed in about 5 minutes from a truly joyous and excited child. In every photo, does even ONE child have dirty clothes, which is the actual sign of a child engaged in prolonged outdoor fun? How can children splatter on canvasses with floral frocks on without a single smudge of paint? Why are children tree climbing in cowboy boots and gardening in flip flip flops (which again, are always pristine)? Why the chalk slates that only hold three cursive letters at a time? And don't get me started on how not a single book on the shelves appear to be read, worn, torn, and in essence, loved. What all of this shows isn't inspirational or aspirational... frankly, it's artifice. Rather than this coming from a place of insecurity, my assessment comes from being a homeschooling parent with every kind of pet in the spacious, fruit-tree covered yard; a playroom stocked to the gills with art supplies and its walls covered with their messy and imperfect crafts; heaps of tattered books, well worn instruments, and seashells and other curiosities from nature walks; and a pantry with some kind of home made snack or cookie... our family does it all. I don't say this to brag, but rather to explain that I am deeply familiar with what a beloved, magical homeschooling experience looks like and I am 100% certain it does not resemble the carefully curated images depicted by the author. In fact, it's often full of ugly things that can't exist without the good: skinned and bruised knees, shirts covered with bunny pee, splintered fingers, misshapen cookies that look like reindeer poop, wilted flowers from a walk too long, ubiquitous crayon marks in the most unexpected places, and countless dead animals from nature taking its course. And of course, the fighting! Fighting with siblings, pleading with my child to PLEASE finish her handwriting, and stifling the urge to toss the remaining Flower Fairies of Summer poems so I could shut my brain off and watch something mindless. Guilty as charged, and any parent saying otherwise is, I dare say, I dirty liar. But, I'm not so fragile that I need to be called Brave One or to 'take heart' when I acknowledge such imperfections. I embrace them as part of being human. It would be so unfortunate that one would think less of, or be disappointed in, the homeschooling experience because it is nowhere near as neat and clean as what Arment depicts. The book's language imparts the same saccharine vibe. I could never be an Amy Chua forcing a child to learn a piano song until she broke down, but I do find greatness in a child FINALLY accomplishing work that she long believed was too difficult through consistent, repetitive (and yes, boring) work. The notion that children should have to work hard--ever--seems entirely lost on this author. Actually, it's not a lost concept but worse, it's wholly antithetical to her idea of a magical childhood. Yeesh. There are countless problems and contradictions in this rhetoric. For example, "When you use living books as your framework for studies, there is no need for textbooks, worksheets, or even formal curriculums." So how exactly does one "living books" their way through science and applying the scientific method? And math? Apparently children are supposed to "play" with that, too, though I've regrettably never seen a child who can play their way through memorizing addition facts and multiplication tables. Even in English, it requires a strong technical foundation in grammar and possessing a decent enough vocabulary to grapple with some of the best living texts. Ultimately, I found that this book is to homeschooling as what rom coms are to relationships: Absurd to the point of imparting woefully unrealistic standards and expectations. Perhaps a better TL;DR is, "that's not how this works. That's not how any of this works."