No Kid Is an Island

I am not at all crafty. I don't "scrapbook," I don't knit, I have a hard time drawing anything that looks like, well, anything and I never learned how to use a sewing machine. So the knowledge that I will soon be needing to create Montessori teaching materials daunts me. But it is a challenge for which I am ready. What I find more daunting about my decision to homeschool my son is the fact that I will not only need to develop his intellect but also his social skills. Socialization is integral to the learning process; a child never ceases in his quest to figure out the nuances of social interaction as well as his own identity within his social framework. I feel confident that I will be a skilled guide in my son's quest for knowledge; I am fraught with insecurity about whether he will grow into a socially well-adjusted human being in the absence of classmates (and siblings).

This is where living on a small island is both helpful and a hindrance. It's helpful because the community is strong; we've lived here for over a year and by now it is difficult to run an errand without bumping into a friend or acquaintance (and thus having some sort of social interaction). Parker is almost always involved in these run-ins. Though he still at times likes to "play shy," islanders never fail to say hello to him, ask him how he is, what toy he's holding onto--whether he's in the mood to answer or not. And he cannot fail to notice while I conduct neighborly conversations with the people we encounter throughout the course of each day (e.g., neighbors, store clerks, friends). Another beneficial aspect of living in a small community is that a trip to the playground is pretty much an instant playdate. St. John has a total of two playgrounds and my son nearly always sees a friend of his when we go to one or the other, which we do at least three times a week. Plus, I quickly met some other mothers when we first moved here, with whom we now have a weekly playgroup. The downside of living on a small island is the limited population. There aren't a ton of kids Parker's age on St. John, and all of them (except for Parker, of course) attend school outside the home. In a larger community, we could conceivably get to know other young kids whose moms have decided to homeschool, and even do school activities together with them. Here, it's getting more and more difficult to arrange playdates due to Parker's friends' school schedules.

So, running into people around town, playground excursions, a weekly playgroup and occasional playdates: is it enough? Our weekly playgroup consists of Parker and two of his little friends. This morning we had it at our house because the aforementioned rains made the playground where we normally meet up nonviable. Playgroup on his "turf" definitely stresses my son's social skills. The last thing I want to do is overanalyze his every interaction with his playmates but, as I said earlier, I am fraught with insecurity about this whole socialization and homeschooling thing. My son yelled at his friends this morning; is this a certain sign that he's doomed to be antisocial for the rest of his life? Should I derive confidence from the fact that he apologizes readily and seemingly sincerely? He generously shared his toys with his friends but he also had a potty accident; did he pee his pants because socializing causes him anxiety? I know. He's 3. I'm overanalyzing. But what about when he's 6, or 16? Will this decision to keep him home with me prove positive?