Being the Homeschooler… Part 3
Homeschooling identical twins keeps you on your toes, and Zephyr and Zooey—almost seven—are living proof. Kindergarten, round two. Not because they failed—it’s more that language took a scenic detour early on. Until they were four, they spoke exclusively “twin,” a private code only they understood. English has been catching up ever since, and while they’re making headway, words can still be slippery, sentences twist in unexpected ways, and connecting with others—even younger kids—remains a challenge.
But here’s the thing: these two have their own language, one of movement, expression, and creativity. Dance, gestures, little glances, and playful theatrics convey everything they need to say. They are wildly artistic, and the world is their canvas.
Take the crystal hanging in our east-facing window. Every morning, it scatters rainbows across the dining room. Zephyr and Zooey notice. They pause. They beam. They catch them. Outside of our house, they have shared these magical moments with anyone near—though usually with dry, perfectly timed commentary, because subtlety is their style. Most people walk by without seeing the magic, but for them, it’s everything. And honestly? There’s nothing wrong with that. If you can’t see the magic, what’s left to celebrate?
We attend Venture Upward one day a week, a brick-and-mortar program I love that goes alongside with their homeschool curriculum. It gives them structured learning and social time, but interacting with peers can still be tricky. Social nuances, language barriers, and shyness can make connections slow—but their bond with each other is unshakable. They fight with the ferocity only twins can summon, but they are each other’s best friends for life.
At home, they are full-on farm kids—curious, messy, and fearless. They feel deeply, react with sass, and explore everything with gusto.
They are almost seven, but their wonder, imagination, and curiosity make the world feel alive. They see beauty in light, movement, and small miracles that others miss. They express it on their terms, through dance, gestures, and bursts of odd humor. They remind me that life isn’t about conforming—it’s about noticing, feeling, and celebrating the extraordinary in the ordinary.
Homeschooling Zephyr and Zooey has taught me patience (because IT. IS. STRESSFUL), creativity, and the joy of seeing life through a magical lens. We may stumble over language, struggle to communicate with others, and have a few messy mornings along the way—but we are rich in ways that no test score could capture.
So here’s to Zephyr and Zooey: our little artists, wild farm kids, and magic-seekers. You teach me every day that life is brighter when you stop to catch a rainbow in your dining room, dance through the world in your own language, and trust in the beauty of being unapologetically yourself.
And all of this is part of my juggling act—homesteading, homeschooling, parenting, running a business, keeping the chaos somehow contained—sometimes gracefully, sometimes not. Zephyr and Zooey remind me every day that life isn’t about fitting in—it’s about noticing beauty, embracing magic, and expressing yourself unapologetically. Because if you can’t have magic in your life, what’s the point?
