The Curriculum Conundrum
How We Decide What—and How—to Teach
Thankfully, we live in a state with very low homeschool regulation. Many families are not as fortunate, and their freedom to choose how and what they teach is far more limited. Because of that freedom, I do not use or follow a single, boxed curriculum—outside of mathematics.
Instead, I follow a philosophy of education known as the Charlotte Mason Method.
It would take writing a book—and many have—to describe her approach in its entirety, but for those curious, Charlotte Mason’s 20 Principles are readily available online, and her work is thoughtfully preserved through resources such as Simply Charlotte Mason and Ambleside Online. What matters most for our family is not memorizing the method, but living out its spirit.
Following the Mason philosophy, we have no textbooks or worksheets in our home. What we do have is a massive library of living books. Living books are typically written in narrative or story form by authors who care deeply about their subject. They are not distilled, watered-down summaries of information, but rich, engaging works that make a subject come alive. History reads like a story. Science unfolds as discovery. Ideas have texture and weight.
This approach does require a significant investment of time and energy at the beginning. Planning lessons, sourcing books, and learning how to teach without leaning on pre-packaged materials can feel daunting. But once you find your rhythm, it begins to flow naturally. Education becomes less about managing materials and more about cultivating attention, curiosity, and delight.
Now—math. Oh, math.
I have spent more money than I care to admit on math curricula over the years. I kept researching, buying, trying, and abandoning program after program, convinced that surely the next one would be “the one.” Eventually, I had a quiet but pivotal realization: none of them fit us because they were missing something essential.
So I went back—again—to Charlotte Mason. In Volume Six, she writes about the beauty of mathematics, and that was my “hello” moment. Yes, math is practical. It always will be. But math is also beautiful. Its beauty is not only in recognizing patterns or solving problems, but in understanding that it exists all around us—that it is woven into the fabric of creation itself.
God is mathematical. Order, proportion, rhythm, and number are written into the world. When math is taught only as utility, children miss that wonder.
So once again, we don’t follow a specific curriculum—we follow a method, a philosophy. We teach math in a way that honors both its practicality and its beauty. (Tip from a momma who has purchased all the things: To teach math, you need a deck of playing cards, real paper and coin money, a clock with hands, and base ten cubes—if you want to get fancy.)
And finally, this is where I want to be very clear.
Homeschooling is not one-size-fits-all. Each family has the autonomy—and the responsibility—to choose the style of learning and the resources that best serve both parent and child. What works beautifully in one home may feel stifling or unworkable in another. Some families thrive with structured curricula. Others flourish with a more organic approach. Neither is morally superior.
The goal is not to imitate another family’s homeschool, but to build one that fits your children, your convictions, your capacity, and your season of life. Education should serve the family—not the other way around.

