A Simple Guide to Homeschool Curriculum
Or, How to Choose Less Stuff and More Learning
There’s something about the soft glow of morning light filtering through my kitchen curtains just when the sun is starting to peek up. Often, steam is rising from a pot of oats on the stove and one of my kiddos is inevitably lingering nearby - showing me a ‘new trick’, asking what’s for breakfast, holding their sippy cup toward me as the universal signal for ‘more milk.’ These moments are sacred to me now as I sip a hot coffee and catch glimpses around the corner of the island - of my oldest reading to her sibling, or my preschooler excitedly adding magnatiles to a tower that is inching past the top of her head.
Today this scene looks similar in a way, to how it did a few years ago. But different too. Back then, I might have been staring at my phone screen for a variety of reasons. One of the biggest was ‘research’— or what I might now identify as anxious information searching on a variety of topics related to my parenting. Homeschooling and curriculum were top of the list. I may have had multiple tabs of curriculum options open, each promising the “perfect fit” for my homeschool. I would have definitely had a pit in my stomach from what I would have said then was dissatisfaction with the resources I was finding (today I know it wasn’t about dissatisfaction at all). I would have missed the silent milk request (resulting in tears), the air thick with the smell of soon-to-be burnt oatmeal and unspoken pressure: What if I choose wrong? What books, what resources for a unit study about Winter? For my child struggling with Math?
I say that today looks different not only because I got rid of my smartphone a year and a half ago (more on that another time), but because I found the will and a way to step away from what I now know to be a common trap for homeschool parents making curriculum choices. I call it the curriculum carousel.
The Curriculum Carousel & The Courage to Step Away
As much as we ask ‘What do I use for curriculum?’, the reality is there are near-infinite choices. So, so many choices—boxed sets from afar, digital downloads, online programs that claim to cover it all, locals creators selling unit studies on Etsy or TPT,
religious
and secular
and nature-based
and Charlotte Mason
and Waldorf
and eclectic
and literature-based
and unschooling in a tree
and travel schooling
and, and and…
…*whew.
We want something to align with a regular part of our day and suddenly we are drowning in books, printables and nature guides that gather dust. We may also have six different partially-used planners and bins full of manipulatives that go untouched (…or end up strewn across the living room floor on a daily basis by a precocious toddler.)
I know from speaking to and working with many other homeschool parents that this is the homeschool story many of us share. Ultimately it’s a story about overwhelm from overabundance. The spiral goes something like: compare, buy, regret, repeat. But is it possible that what results is simply too much stuff and too little clarity?
In truth, the pain comes not from a lack of resources but from the environmental > mental clutter blocking joy.
So what if we make a shift in order to let our home learning breath?
A Simpler Framework for Greater Peace
Why does less yield more?
At its root, simplicity parenting honors the child’s developing mind, unburdened by excess. Kim John Payne, in (1) Simplicity Parenting, argues that “too much stuff, too many choices” taxes young brains, fostering anxiety over focus. Payne’s approach—filtering environment, rhythm, and schedule—extends to learning and further to curriculum choice: pare curriculum resources to the essentials, and witness curiosity lead the way.
Further scholarship can illuminate this for us. (2) Cognitive Load Theory (CLT), pioneered by John Sweller, posits our working memory holds limited “chunks”—overloading it with extraneous choices (endless vendor sites, mismatched resources, too many ‘expert opinions’ from social media) hampers germane load, the deep processing required for true learning. As a parent, it’s easy to see how too much choice can lead to decision fatigue or even paralysis, and how it might become difficult to ‘learn from our mistakes’ if we don’t simplify. For our kids, cluttered materials and learning spaces can spike distraction. (3) One study in particular found students off-task more in visually busy rooms. While Pinterest-inspired homeschool spaces encourage us to romanticize homeschooling, they may be distracting from deep learning in our everyday homeschools.
Schwartz’s (4) Paradox of Choice shows also that too many options breed dissatisfaction and inaction. This is mirrored in homeschool research (5) where parents cited overwhelm from recommendations and adaptations (e.g., U.S. curricula for Canadian contexts). This could provide one explanation for why we end up with so many untouched resources, or worse in a state of burnout due to overwhelm.
On the flip side, we know that minimalism aids child development profoundly (and by minimalism I don’t mean unfurnished rooms or monochromatic wardrobes). By reducing “ambient cognitive taxation,” sparse environments reclaim attention for self-regulation and exploration—the prefrontal cortex is freed from noise for creativity. In homeschooling, this could look like ditching 10 workbooks for just 1. It could also look like trading workbooks altogether for nature journals and read alouds. By simplifying modestly, we can gain direction without overhauling everything. As educators this is freedom, clarity and peace of mind. For our children this is the space required for creative, self-directed learning to return or even blossom for the first time.
If you have a gifted child, or if you are still concerned about providing enough intellectual stimulation in your homeschool, consider what else CLT applications can show us: match intrinsic load (content complexity) to your child’s developmental/educational stage, gradually building via open-ended tools. A simple way to do this would be to have one grade-appropriate workbook as your base and to use the library for extension reading, activities, and child-led inquiry/research.
Less stuff also fosters “attentional resource conservation,” turning parents’ decision paralysis into peace and presence.
Philosophically, this practice of simplification is akin to stewardship: honouring the gifts of simple resources—notebooks, pens and coloured pencils, library nooks—over consumer excess. (6) Research also affirms: positive parent-child bonds thrive when curricula serve relationship, not dictate it. Embrace fewer options, spend more time together, and watch learning bloom.
*Offering my hand to you as you, too, step off the curriculum carousel.
One Thing to Try this Week
Step outside—no prep beyond boots and wonder. Let this be your Nature Reset. For 45 minutes in your nearest green space - backyard, park, conservation area, just observe, and ask questions. Follow up with some simple note booking.
Here’s the flow:
Wander trails or backyard/ park space, senses awake (what whispers in the wind? Crunches underfoot?)
Let your child(ren) lead: perhaps they collect one leaf, one stone; ponder aloud, “How does rain shape this bark?”
Back home, create one shared journal page: draw, narrate simply. Large paper works well for this OR create a collage from all of your journal pages. Hang it on the wall for reflection through the week.
Rest assured that you can tie math (patterns), science (cycles), language (stories) all into this one, simple learning activity and that the learning can seep in throughout the week
The Low-prep magic of this idea: it reuses what nature offers, sidesteps buying, and builds rhythm—predictable joy in any season. It cultivates calmer days, gets kids hooked on discovery, and cultivates a home where learning is part of life.
The Living Book
My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George—a Newbery Honor gem for YA readers (ages 12+). Sam flees city clamor for Catskill wilds, carving self-reliance from deer hide and falcon friendship.
Passionate storytelling pulses ideas of simplicity and of appreciating nature’s abundance over stuff. This is an immersive survival story to spark imagination, echoing our theme: one boy’s pared-down world yields deep wisdom. Perfect for a family read aloud with older children, adventure narration, or YA independent reading.
I want to sign off by saying that every once in a while, I am still tempted to hop on the curriculum carousel. And personally, I am always a sucker for a planner…for homeschooling or otherwise. But in time I have developed stronger muscles for saying ‘no’ to impulsive purchases. I truly believe that reducing and simplifying is what has supported me in creating the brain space for this learning to take root. And I can say with certainty that the benefits to my home, my parenting and my homeschool continue to pay dividends on our learning journey.
Now I’m wondering: what one “less” could you release this week to welcome more learning? Feel free to ponder and/or share in comments—I’d love to hear from you!