Ok, so I have to admit something. I’m an explainer.
I know, I know, you’re all shocked. But it’s true – I can’t help myself but to explain things.
I trip on someone, I explain why. I was five minutes late for something, nobody cares, but I ham compelled to explain why I’m late. I tell hubby what I did during the day, and I have to explain why I did things when I did, or didn’t do something else. My kids ask me “why Mommy?” and I get giddy.
I’m an explainer and sometimes it drives me nuts. People don’t NEED all that backstory. In most cases, they don’t care. And when I explain, I can see the glaze slowly drip over their faces.
Has homeschooling made me an explainer? OR… am I homeschooler because I’m an explainer? Same with being a writer – does being an explainer and a writer go hand in hand?
As an extention of that, I’m a researcher. If I can’t explain something, I’ll research it until I can.
That part, that doesn’t drive me nuts. That part I enjoy. Because even if the person who I’m talking to doesn’t really care, I get to learn something new. And I like learning new things, even if it was someone else’s idea to begin with.
Now, how does this all trickle down to my kids? My 8 year old, he’s an explainer too, in his own way. He likes to explain how he PLANS to do things, not what’s happened before. I like to do both, but prefer to explain past events/behavior. My 6 year old likes to explain the NOW. Or better way to say that would be to describe the now, in particular how things look, even if it’s obvious. My 3 year old, likes to explain things that she wants to happen. Which, I guess is normal for that age.
What’s the down side of being an explainer – well, apparently around the kids, there isn’t much. But, as my hubby gently reminds me from time to time, I’m not homeschooling the world. Just my kids. (tapping head…) I have to try to remember that.
When I was a kid, my friend’s mom was a teacher. And she treated everyone like they were in her 1st grade class. Even the adults. As a kid, that was kind of comforting, and I used to think it was humorous that my own mother could be treated like she was my age. But as an adult now, I realize just how annoying that must have been for my mom, knowing my mom.
Am I my friend’s mom? Am I essentially trying to homeschool the world by being an explainer? And, if I am, what do I do with that information?