You live in a one-house schoolroom.

 

Your walls are covered with maps and timelines.

 

You know what math manipulative are.

 

You have mold growing in your fridge…on purpose.

 

Your preschooler can name all the planets, but doesn't know who the Rugrats are.

 

You've mastered the fine art of vacuuming a floor without sucking up a Lego or K'nex piece.

 

You're either an expert at doing the Lego dance - Oooch! Ouch! Yeow! - or else you've resorted to wearing shoes around the house.

 

You know the recipes for homemade versions of Play-doh, finger paint, and paste.

 

Your students have to clear the breakfast bowls off the table before sitting down to do their school work.

 

Your house is messy, but your kids are happy.

You know that reverse psychology really works.

Your kids publish their own family newsletter.

 

You shop for birthday and  Christmas presents at educational stores.

 

All you want for Christmas is a Barnes & Noble gift certificate. You'd rather buy books than clothes.

 

Your friends don't want to help you move because you have so many books.

 

You turn a trip to the grocery store into a learning experience.

 

You get nervous about what people will say when you take your kids to K-Mart in the middle of the day.

 

You have a standard one-minute speech to give to store clerks, mother-in-laws, and school officials about why you homeschool.

 

For your wedding anniversary, you decide to splurge and get a photocopier.

 

Talking out loud to yourself is the same as having a parent/teacher conference.
When you see a parking lot full of mini vans, you wonder if there's a homeschooling conference.

 

You take your family vacation in September, when the beaches and theme parks are empty.

 

You take a suitcase full of books along on your family vacation.

 

You can never find your kitchen utensils because they're out in the sandbox.

 

Your kitchen doubles as a science lab.

 

You are on a first name basis with your local librarian and bookstore owner.

 

The UPS driver delivers a box of Scholastic books to your doorstep once a month.

 

You know the scientific names of dinosaurs from A to Z.

 

You're willing to drop what you're doing at a moment's notice to go look something up in a dictionary or encyclopedia.

 

You have ever vented for more than five minutes on the evils of standardized testing.

 

You don't get fired for teaching your students about God.

 

Some days you learn as much as your students.

 

The more your kids learn, the less you seem to know.

 

(Source: Revised from HSBCompanyBlog )