When my son was one, I started homeschooling him. Not because I had a plan — because he showed me the way. He learned best when he was moving, touching, discovering. He learned best outside.
Every lesson that made it off the kitchen table and into the backyard stuck. Every walk turned into a science experiment. Every puddle was an invitation. He didn't just want to be outside. He needed to be outside.
When I went looking for a program that honored that — something structured enough to feel intentional but wild enough to let him lead — I couldn't find it. Not in PG County. Not in Montgomery County. Not anywhere close enough to matter.
So I built Tiny Huemans.