Are You Smarter Than an 8th Grader? The Homeschool Edition!
April 13, 2010
When my husband and I decided to have children, we discussed many things we knew we would face. We came to a few agreements and knew that by making some concessions here and there and meeting each other at least half-way, we knew we would be healthy, happy parents.
For example, we agreed that for us we should probably wait at least five years until we tried to have our first child.
Brandon was born three years after we were married.
We agreed that we should probably have an even number of children since we both grew up in families with three kids and we knew someone would be set apart. (Clint for being 15 years younger than his next older brother and me because I was the unexpected baby.) I felt strongly about this. I thought even numbers would even things out.
We have three kids.
We talked about working outside the home or being a stay at home mom and decided I should be a stay at home mom while the kids were young and as soon as they were all in school, I would go to work full time.
I haven’t worked outside the home in 17 years. I do, however, work full time as a volunteer as the PTA president.
And for the love of all things educational, I promised I would never homeschool our kids. (Seeing as we wanted to give them the best chance at being well educated and I knew I would fall short if I were to homeschool them. I know myself. I have nothing against it but it was something I was dead set against doing myself.)
Z is now being homeschooled.
Yes, you read that correctly. I am the PTA president at one kid’s school while I homeschool another. I am a contradiction of myself.
It started a month or so into school. Z was just not feeling well. To me he looked pale and he was complaining of dizziness often. He started missing more and more school. For weeks I would take him to school and within 45 minutes, the nurse would call me telling me he needed to come home. One time it was dizziness another his oxygen levels was too low etc etc. It got to the point where I would drop him off, go get a coffee and then return to the school in time to pick him up (knowing the nurse would call).
Of course even with the nurse sending him home I still had the dean calling, sending letters and threatening truancy court. (I will go with Stupid School Contradictions for $500, Alex.)
Finally, late in October I got a call from an administrator at Z’s school. She told me that he was stable, but they had to call 911 for him.
This is where I pause while you imagine getting that call from your kid’s school.
I got to his school in record time. Driving up and seeing an ambulance and firetruck at the school entrance and knowing it was for my child was terrifying. When I got to him, he was surrounded by paramedics, had an IV and looked paler than I have ever seen him. Riding in the ambulance to the hospital was a ride I will not soon forget.
It was in that week that I realized how many specialists I was going to have to see to figure out what was going on as well as how ridiculous it was to continually get phone calls from the school about him not being there yet knowing it was not safe to send him until we figured things out.
I pulled him out of school the next week. It was then that we entered the empowering yet intimidating world of homeschooling. Empowering because we- as his parents- get to decide what is best for him as far as his health is concerned and not fear the sword of truancy falling on our heads. Intimidating because HELLO, I am so not smarter than an 8th grader. How in the world could I ever teach him all he needed to know? How could I ever give him the tools he needs to be successful? What have I done?
And yet, we persist. We push forward. We make it work for us. Right now Z is currently take his CBE’s to see where we really need to be focusing on. (CBE stands for credit by examination.) Oh, look! I got to use homeschool speak on my blog. Totally a foreign language. They should offer it as an elective in schools. (See what I did there? *snort*)
So basically, to sum it up: We broke most of the parenting agreements we set forth before having kids within 3 years. (I guess it is a good thing we didn’t have ‘promise to obey‘ in our wedding vows or all hell would break loose.)
And? I am doing two things I promised myself I would never do: homeschool one of my children and become a PTA mom– especially not the president. (Folks, Stepford shudders at that last statement. Trust me!)
And there is my life. Just one huge contradiction after another. I also agreed that I would become a good homemaker and cook. Yeah. It’s a good thing the mind goes after nearly 20 years of marriage or Clint might actually catch on to the fact that I really didn’t know what I was talking about when I was a young, new bride and agreed to all of this. What did I know? (Very little!)
Like my Mom always told me: Never say never. (Which never made sense until I became old enough for my nevers to come back and bite me in the arse!)
Today my daughter turned 9 years old. Somehow 9 seems so much older than 8. She is my cuddle bug, my angel, my sweet princess. She is the dream I had and was told would never come true. She is the girl we were told would never survive full term and would not be born alive. She is my miracle. Having her in my life makes thing brighter, funnier and filled with more unicorns and magical dragons than I ever knew existed.
I was never much of a girly girl who played with dolls and Barbies. I was more into GI Joe and kickball. She teaches me how to be patient when playing dolls and that Sleeping Beauty was not always an option when playing princesses. She’s given me a deeper appreciation that the joy of twirling in a new dress can bring. She’s brought more pink into this home than I ever thought possible and definitely more than I thought I was capable of seeing without losing my mind. She shows me that girly girl can be fun. However, she also shows me that princesses can wear tiaras and play in the mud. That a white dress doesn’t have to stay white if chocolate is involved. She can rough house with her brothers one minute and snuggle with her Daddy the next. She is the best of all of us. She is our dragon full of fire and fight and our princess full of beauty and charm.
Today on her birthday I want to let her know how much she has blessed my life. I want her to know that every night when she is sleeping I cover her up, brush the hair from her forehead and give her a kiss and thank God that she is mine. I want her to know that she saved my life by coming into it at just the perfect time when I needed something stronger and deeper than my own will to keep me clean and sober. I want her to know that every time she laughs, my heart sings. Every time she cries, my heart breaks. Every time she takes even the smallest step towards independence, my heart both rejoices and breaks a little. I want her to know that her dreams are never too big to achieve and her wishes are never too unrealistic to wish them.
But today on her birthday, I will snuggle with her. I will sing her happy birthday and watch as she blows out her 9 candles. I will kiss her and tell her I love her and my heart will swell with happiness and pride in my little dragon princess.
Someday she will know all the things I wish she could know about how she blesses me. But for today, she knows without a doubt that she is loved, cherished and above all the greatest daughter I could ever dream to have.
Happy birthday, my sweet dragon princess. You are my miracle and you are loved.
The worst thing for me to do is to ever regret any friendship. Every one of them have enriched me in one way or another. I had a long talk about this recently with my sponsor and she helped me realize that from the heartbreak of a childhood friendship gone terribly wrong and painful to those lost as an adult. From friends who have just moved on from my life to those who have been and (hopefully) always will be a part of me.
You all matter.
And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness for the thing I’ve done you blame me for. (But then I guess we know, there’s blame to share.) And none of it seems to matter anymore…
This weekend I needed a mental health weekend. Time to regroup, rethink and reboot. So to speak. Here are some of the brilliant insights my brain stumbled upon.
Exercise can only get you so far before you have to resort to Ben & Jerry’s. Which of course will lead to more exercise but at least you will feel the satisfaction of devouring the frozen goodness that is the very definition of awesome therapy in a pint size container.
If you lay really still and don’t give in to the urge to move when someone peeks into your room to see if you are sleeping late, you can actually buy yourself some more alone time to check out TMZ, E! and People to see what those crazy celebrities did while you were sleeping.
Going to a hockey game really is a great way to release tension. There is just nothing more beautiful than the sound of a puck (or a hockey player) slamming into the glass. (I told my husband the most romantic gift he could give me would be a mix tape of checks into the boards, pucks hitting glass and the sound of hundreds of amped up fans cheering when a fight breaks out. Ooooh baby!)
Unhappy people make people unhappy. (I read that on a blog this weekend and for the life of me I cannot find it again.)
Old friends can make you laugh like no one else on earth. Sometimes, just hearing their voice on your voicemail makes your heart happier. Other times, it’s friends who send you smart-ass videos by Pink with notes that call you a dork and thanks you for not being a stupid girl which make you wonder “really is that a compliment or an insult and why would you ever even think of me when you see that… I just may be insulted by it except that you have me laughing too hard to be insulted.“
Kids really are resilient. And? They have amazing ways of seeing the world. I recommend spending some time with some if you can. Even if they include that scary breed of kid known as “teenager.” They’ll teach you a thing or two. And really what weekend is complete without being schooled by a teenager?
When you put your cold feet on your husband in the middle of the night, using the excuse “But you’ve been in bed longer so you are warmer” doesn’t endear them to your cause. Or warm your feet. Oh, and when they are putting their socks on the next morning and wake you up, they will hear you if you mumble something about not deserving socks to warm their feet.
The scariest words to write on your first book are not the first ones that start out the story and get your reader involved. They are…the end. Sometimes even scarier? To be continued…
You have trained your husband and children very, very well when you bitch about needing to get your hair done because “Omigosh how can you not see that grey?! Look closer!” and they all at different times, without conferring with each other respond, “I don’t see any grey.”
Only Oprah can bring Letterman and the NBC “L” guy (who is not Conan but should be) together on a couch for chips. I bet she could also bring about world peace. Or at the very least, bring Conan back to my tv!
Right before school started in August, my daughter’s best friend moved away. She only moved 3 hours away, but it certainly wasn’t local anymore. I’ve watched how this has changed Gabriella. It is in subtle ways that unless you know her, you may not see it.
She seems a little lost, I hear close friends of ours say.
She and her best friend met the first day of kindergarten and formed a bond immediately. It’s not like they were joined at the hip 24/7, but they did a lot of things together. When they were apart they still knew someone always had their back. They knew that in any new situation or circle of friends, there was always someone they could count on and lean on or just simply have the comfort of knowing they would be there.
Where is my safety net to catch me when I fall or my tether to keep me grounded? I see her wonder.
I have talked to her about it a few times. She usually just shrugs and moves on, unable to find the words to express what she feels or misses or is searching for.
I get it! I tell her
You see, Gabriella’s best friend’s mom was one of my best friends. She was my safety net. My tether to keep me grounded. The one I knew always had my back. The friend where I could always and would always be myself.
She seems a little lost. They say about me.
I do for myself what I try to convince Gabriella to do: Branch out. Let yourself be open to new friends. Accept invitations to be with new people. Let your guard down a little bit. Okay, let your guard down a lot.
But where is my safety net to catch me when I fall or my tether to keep me grounded? I don’t know anymore!
One thing she has learned even though she is only in third grade is people form their “tribe” early. Most of the girls in her class have been going to the same school for 4 years now. They have their best friends and their tribes. It isn’t written but it is there. She’s made new friends. She’s joined new groups. Yet, she still searches for her tribe. She searches for where she belongs somewhat afraid to let her guard down without knowing someone has her back. I see her searching and wish I could just plunk her down in a group and let her feel “established” there. But, I can’t do that. She has to find her place and her tribe on her own. And it hurts to watch.
It is no different with me. Try as I might, I cannot fit into the tribe that I am around the most either. I try to accept invitations (when offered), I try to join in on the laughter (when it isn’t an inside joke) and I try to open myself up and not keep them at arms length.
Apparently, I am not very good at it. At not keeping people at arms length. No matter how hard I try. I can’t help but wonder if maybe jumping in the way I did was the wrong thing to do.
Maybe I am just a loner and just really put that vibe out there.
Maybe I am incapable of social interaction that lasts longer than a lunch.
Maybe it is the addict in me that doesn’t know how to just let go and get involved.
Or maybe I just really don’t fit in.
I don’t know.
What I do know is that I would give anything for my daughter to be happy and for me to figure out the secret to leaving loneliness behind and embracing new friendships. For now, I will do what I always do…the only thing I know to do: Smile and laugh and never let ‘em know it hurts. (Well, that and start looking at places for a fresh start.)
