Oh yeah. Deciding whether or not to send my little guy back into the world of mass-market learning. Well…I spent the whole summer before Uber’s 1st grade year studying my options…
- Private school? Not even an possibility. Therapies and doctors visits had already put our rears in arrears.
- Public school? Scary. I’d heard horror stories from local moms about how their kids with special needs were mercilessly teased and how services for kids with IEP’s or even worse – – giftedness – – were basically non-existent.
- Charter school? Hey, there’s an option. So we went for it!
But no one told me that the brand new charter school which was getting such rave reviews had a waiting list about three miles long. (and btw, Uber could’ve probably done the unit conversion for that to kilometers in his head at that age!)
So we homeschooled again the next year. And the next. And it was a rousing success. But when H-T’s time came along, would you believe I STILL couldn’t quite give up the dream? That’s right, H-T’s cute little five-year-old tushie was marched right into kindergarten.
And yes, I got to be a homeroom helper. And wait in the drop-off/pick-up line. And even bring cupcakes for his birthday. The whole kit-n-kaboodle!! Yet when his teachers sat down with me for his first conference and told me they suspected he might have a learning disability, the very first thought that came to my mind was…
“Well, I’ll just homeschool him then.”
So I did.
And except for a short bout of Uber wanting to try his wings in school during sixth grade and part of seventh, that is exactly what we have done.
Not because I didn’t believe in the public school system – – far from it. But because I believed it was the best choice for my individual kiddos. And I still believe it…so much so that this year I’ve even trusted my kids enough to put the bulk of the responsibility for their education into their own hands.
And when they sit in their therapist’s office twenty years from now, and regale her with tales of how they are in the crappy mess they are in because their mother didn’t “socialize” them properly, I will STILL believe I made the right choice. (and probably also that my latest facelift makes me looks a little too much like Charo)
But those are the breaks, kids. All I can do is what I think is best for my boys, who I say I “love” when “love” doesn’t even begin to cut it.
Here’s hoping they’ll think so too someday…