I was on the struggle bus last week. I’ll be the first to tell you—February is always a hard month. Even when you don’t homeschool, you can feel it. Everyone is tired of the cold and dreariness, home starts to feel a little claustrophobic, there’s not a lot going on socially as people withdraw, and we start looking ahead to what feels like greener grass instead of continuing to rest and work where we are.

If you’ve been thinking about quitting homeschool because you’re anxious about progress, comparing your days to social media, comparing your kids to their peers, or you and your kids are just plain tired of one another, I want you to know that you aren’t alone. This is a well-known phenomenon in the homeschool world, usually called the February Slump.

How you’re feeling has a name. If nothing else comforts you, let that.

Wow. I am so thankful to have a moment to sit down and write this.

Life has felt like a whirlwind lately—in all the best ways, but still… a lot. Somehow, my two older girls managed to have their apartment leases end within one day of each other. Neither planned to stay where they were, and everything shifted all at once.

I was.

Recently, we found a picture one of my girls snapped back in 2011 during my first “full year” of homeschool planning. I remember that day clearly. I remember the couch. The stacks of books. The planner. The look on my face.

I was, indeed, freaked out.

I knew no one who homeschooled. We really couldn’t afford for me not to work. We lived in a small town where the school was the community. Choosing something different felt like stepping outside the circle. I had always learned things easily, but I had zero experience teaching anyone anything. I was terrified I would fail my children, disappoint my husband, and make a decision that would ripple through all of our lives.

So, let's talk about attention.
"But, Erin," you say, "all your kids have ADHD, and so do you. How are you talking to me about attention right now?"
Valid question, friend. And it's exactly because our family struggles with attentiveness that I’ve made it my personal mission to understand how to foster it. When you start out with “attention muscles” that are underdeveloped, being intentional about training those habits becomes even more important.
Charlotte Mason once wrote:
“The highest intellectual gifts depend for their value upon the measure in which their owner has cultivated the habit of attention." (Home Education, Vol. 1, p. 137)
Attention isn’t something that simply springs up in a child. Some children are naturally more attentive than others, but no one comes fully trained. Like perseverance or obedience, attention is a skill and habit—one that must be shaped over time through gentle, consistent practice.

“Where’s the Script?”

That’s one of the most common questions we hear from new homeschool moms: “Where’s the script? I don’t know what to say!” And truly, I understand that question deeply. When you’re stepping into homeschooling for the first time—especially when it feels unfamiliar or weighty—the desire for structure and certainty can be overwhelming. You just want to do right by your child. The fear of “messing it up” can make a script feel like a lifeline.

But here’s the truth: you don’t need a script. You need truth spoken in your own voice.

For years, we have enjoyed nature-focused science curriculum that essentially required that we spend time out of doors each day. However, this year, we are working on more project and experiment-based science which is totally fine. But it turns out that if my curriculum isn’t constantly insisting that I head out of doors … well, I don’t do a great job at it.

If you’re shopping for little ones this year, here’s my short list of gifts that feel fun and quietly do the work of growing fine-motor skills, attention, language, and confidence. These are the kinds of toys I love to keep in on hand for that post-nap slump. These gifts are beautiful, durable, and developmentally rich.

Most kindergarten and first-grade programs are built around academic checklists—letter sounds, handwriting drills, simple math, maybe a weekly theme or holiday craft. But at Gentle + Classical, we believe these early years are about something deeper—something more formative, meaningful, and enduring than a simple list of skills to master.

In Gentle + Classical Primer (and all our programs), we approach education as the formation of a whole person—intellect, virtue, imagination, and spirit. Instead of just teaching what, we focus on why it matters—through stories that shape the moral imagination, scripture and catechism that root a child in truth, and hands-on experiences that invite curiosity and joy.

It’s not a program you power through. It’s a year you live—together, side by side.

A Fresh Start for a Foundational Year