Lots of questions; answers next week

  Lisa, a reader (thank you, Lisa), has asked how Cookie feels about her older siblings going to school. It's hard for her to imagine what that even means. Today while we ate lunch, she asked whether they had school today, as if it were some kind of afternoon program.
  She has made a couple comments of a "me, too" nature. But she also likes the idea of staying home with just mom and the baby, of getting to choose more often what we're going to do. In her case, with her being only 6 years old, I'm pretty much telling her she's going to stay home with me. We'll see how it goes for the rest of this school year. I'd really like her to learn to read on her own without any pressures or tests or reading groups and levels.
  Another question, about homework, doesn't concern me too much. It's not my homework. I don't think it should reflect poorly on me if they don't do their homework. It's possible they'll fall on their faces a few times, but better now than in college.
  As far as school creating a hectic schedule, I expect it will just about kill us all to get up so early. I don't like getting up early; they don't like getting up early; even the baby doesn't like getting up early. If Gameboy takes the bus, an issue still undecided, he'll need to get to the end of our street by 7:19 a.m. By comparison, today he woke up about 9:45. I've been pretty much caffeine-free since I got pregnant with him almost 13 years ago, but I don't think that's going to last.
  I'm surprised that our decision to send Gameboy and Princess to school has surprised so many people. I said to one co-worker, "It's not like I ever said I'd never send them to school" and he said, "Yes, you did!"
  It's possible I did; I have strong opinions. But I hope I never stop listening to my kids.

Child-led learning leads to school

  I've never liked the term "unschooling" because although it indicates an absence of school, the impression is that there's an absence of learning. Some people use the term child-led learning, which sounds a little p.c. to me, but the label does a good job to explain the mindset of an unschooling parent.
  So, what do you do if for nine years, you've been letting your children lead the way, and then they say what they want to learn about is school? Sign them up for school, I guess, which is what I did on Monday.
  Gameboy will start sixth grade, and Princess will start third grade after the winter break. The change started with Gameboy, really, and I knew — absolutely knew it — that if he went to school, she'd want to go, too. It's not that they'll be at the same school; it's just that if he goes, she'll want to.
  My homeschooling friends are really surprised by the decision. Some are probably closer to shocked, some pretty negative. But I can't imagine just telling the kids, "Trust me guys, I've been to school, and you don't want to go there." They can see for themselves; maybe they'll like it. If they don't, they don't have to stay. I'll probably encourage them to finish out the year, though. You can't really give something a try unless you commit to it for awhile.
  My guess is that they will like it. They both seem quite social, more so than me. Whenever they're cast in a play, they feed off the energy of the crowd. They pose for photos with arms around their cast-mates, goofing around and enjoying the collaboration.
  They're both worried that they won't know enough stuff to do well on tests. I told them, "Oh, there is no way you're going to be the dumbest one in the class." I immediately took back that indelicate statement. "Just because you're doing poorly in school doesn't make you dumb. I was just trying to be funny saying it that way — and don't call people dumb!" (Good grief. But you know what I mean, right?)
  Gameboy had to choose either band, orchestra or choir. He quickly chose choir and the counselor said, "Oh, good, they're always looking for male voices." I later told him, "You know what she's really saying, right? Most of the boys don't want to be in choir." He said he understood and that he's fine with that. I think it's a smart move, too, because I suspect what got us into this in the first place is that school is where they have girls.

Can't really talk about it

  On the positive side, I had never before left a 12-week-old baby at home and gone to work. On the negative side, I have now. Sunday was my first shift back. I'm grateful that my employer didn't expect me back after six weeks. Apparently, because I'm part-time, that would be the minimum that state law requires. I'm glad they allowed me more unpaid leave than the minimum allowed by law.
  That didn't make Sunday any easier. As I prepared to leave home, I felt like I was going to throw up. I cried as I drove there, was able to pull myself together to enter the building, but cried pretty much any time I tried to talk. By the end of the shift, I was having sharp pains in my stomach. All this, even though during the seven hours I was there, my husband brought Turtle to me so I could feed him!
  It was the plan all along that I'd keep my part-time job. I'm not going to say I have to work because it is a choice. I'm just not willing to give up the things that my employment allows us. That makes me feel bad, but we want to keep our house, I want to pay for things such as ballet lessons and soccer, and I want to buy food at the store whenever we need food without worry, and I like to heat the house warmer than a true miser would.
  I got to stay home with Gameboy and Princess. I returned to work when Cookie was 9 months old. She was too young, I thought, and now I'm doing it to a 3-month-old.
  Of course the baby is at home with his father, who is a very good father, and siblings, who all love him lots. It's just two nights a week. He's taking a bottle well and falls asleep in the car. These things should make me feel better. But if he's crying, I want to be there for him. He doesn't understand that I'll be back later. He doesn't think seven hours is a short time.
  I'm aware that some people might think I'm overreacting to the situation or not recognizing how lucky I was with the other kids. But that's all neither here nor there. I'm just wallowing in the current situation, knowing it will get better as he gets bigger. And I do like my job — just nowhere near as much as I like that baby.