Homeschooling Week One

Well, Day 3.

I have considered it for years. Bored every single person who knows me to death talking about it.

Planned for it the last 3 summers as August approached.

This week, in a step of bravery that was more terrifying and exhilarating than I could have ever imagined:

I cut the cord and did not send my son to the 4th grade.

Last year I went at night, up to the class list postings hanging outside of the school office.

The class had only 18 kids, many of them the brightest in the grade.

The teacher was considered a favorite.

I knew I should send him, it seemed the right thing to do.

This past Sunday evening (OK, creepily late at night) I parked in front of the school and left the car running.

I used the light from my cellphone screen to see the class lists.

Alice was securely settled in a nice kindergarten class with a very sweet and competent teacher.
(And I already tortured her having her at home last year with me  - and a brand new screaming bundle of spitting up sour milk love)

All I needed to see was that there were 34 students in his class this year.

My son prioritizes his life in the following manner: if you asked him what five things he would need to survive on a desert island, food and water would not be involved.

Without someone to talk to, life is not worth living.

And so, for this reason as well as myriad others, I kept him home.

I think he will learn more in half the time. And nothing like a little proverbial desert island to grow some character. (read: washing dishes, doing laundry, cooking, babysitting)

I kept him home on Tuesday, The First Day of School. It was a hard day.

I was not quite ready to launch into our full daily schedule - and the day was hot.

Grayson was bored and spent quite a bit of time carrying the baby around and

washing dishes and doing math drills.

I had a walk to the brink of meltdown. I don't know what my expectations were for what this would be like, but I was not prepared in any way for how scared and vulnerable and insecure I felt.

At the end of Day 1 I figured I could send him off to school in the morning and forget it had ever happened.

Day 2. Violin practicing, working through the Messiah portions for choir rehearsal, handwriting, math practice and review, two books reviews written gave me confidence that I could, at minimum, survive the week.
Whether or not I will be knocking at the school office door by next Monday begging them to take him back remains to be seen.