Today was the day.
The day that has been on my mind for months. One that I have been looking forward to and dreading at the same time.
It was the last day of public school for my family.
I am hoping to write more about why we made this decision later, but right now, I wanted to spend a few minutes reflecting on this momentous day. This was by no means an easy decision. My youngest boys have had two great teachers this year. Great – is actually an understatement. While they both love their teachers, my middle son, who is very much like myself, especially bonded with his teacher. I knew he had NOT been looking forward to today, and I have been trying to think of how I can make it easier for him.
Sure enough, when I got them out of bed this morning, he asked me what day it was, and when I answered he broke out in sobs. Can you say heart crushing? While he is excited to homeschool, he hasn’t yet made the connection that he would not be around her every day next year. So, he connects homeschool with never seeing her again. Funny thing – he hasn’t said a word about any of the kids. Let’s just say bonding didn’t really happen there.
Have you ever felt very confident about something, and then flip-flopped where you questioned EVERYTHING that you were so confident about…and then did it again? That has been me, for a while now, but ESPECIALLY today.
I showed up to turn in my withdrawal paperwork, and get the guys. First, I went to my youngest son’s classroom where I visited with his teacher while kids strung out on last day in-human inertia climbed the walls. She informed me that while she knows we plan to homeschool, that she just found out today that she is moving up a grade level and has permission for this class of students to move up with her. AHH! How cool is that!?
I calmly congratulated her and maintained composure as I questioned everything I believe in, before saying that “Yes, we do still plan to homeschool”. Then, I walked down the hallway to get my other son, and passed a group of students singing and dancing on the stage to a boom box blaring “Whip & Nae Nae”. I was reminded of my youngest kindergarten graduation last year where instead of singing “Deep in the Heart of Texas” or some other classic kids song, they had my FIVE-year-old “Whipping & Nae Nae-ing” on stage (can’t even believe that is a thing).
…and I was back. I am totally okay if my children don’t whip and nae nae. Completely. In fact, you could even say it was a preference. I get to my oldest son’s class. Big gulp. I was so afraid he would be a hot mess. Thankfully, he was okay. He was helping his teacher move desks and clean the classroom while the others played on iPads. I admit that he is a little bit of a teacher’s pet, and thankfully, still young enough to not be bullied too much about it. I know that would have changed next year and he would have been super confused. Guess what? I am okay that he would rather help his teacher than play on an iPad. Empathy is a character trait that I want to encourage.
I visited with this teacher. She is super sweet and I can tell that she cares about teaching. Hugs were exchanged and pictures were taken.
What am I doing? Am I making the right decision? I don’t know. Yes. No. I don’t know. THEN, out of the blue one of the kids yells out “What the heck!?” to my son who was stacking chairs.
Nah – I’m good. I seriously don’t want my sons in an environment full of attitude and bad language. He has already seen more this year than I would like for him to have. I want time to put them through “life boot camp” if you will, so they will be ready to fight the devil when they are older. That takes time. I know that it won’t be easy. There will be good days and bad, but I am going to put my confidence in God and be constantly in prayer to help my husband and me raise our sons to work in His kingdom.