So. Homeschooling! Here we go, we have embarked on the journey. I’m all giddy about curriculum and homeschool conferences and rearranging our house to accommodate “learning space”. Except my son, the oldest one, the one to be actually schooled at home, does not know it yet. How to tell him?
I mentioned it a couple of times, like, you know, it’s a possibility, would you like that?
Me: You could sleep late. We could go on vacation whenever we wanted. We could go to museums any day of the week.
A few days later…
Me: Look, here’s some homeschooled kids. Aren’t they cool?!
Him: [looking through just-aquired birthday party goodie bag] Mmm. hmmm. Hey, look, I got silly bands! [runs off]
Guess I gotta just tell him. You know, like I told the husband. Except he’s known me for 17 years and he’s used to my “hairbrained schemes”, as he calls them. He knows to just get out of my way and pour himself a big glass of scotch ’til the dust settles. He voices a few minor doubts but pretty much knows he’s along for the ride. As long as I don’t spend too much money or ask him to move excessively heavy objects, he’s fairly easy to keep happy.
But The Boy is a different story. He’s “hot under the collar” as somebody-or-other’s grandmother used to say. He has opinions and he voices them. Loudly. For a long time. Until your ears bleed. And he’s all hopped up on a year of public kindergarden and a heavy dose of end-of-the-year-first-grade-hype. You know, “Oooohhhhh, look, it’s the big kids’ playground” and “Oooohhh, Aaahhhhh, the cafeteria.” Big deal. I’ve been there. It’s no big thing. Except if you’re six.