School is back in session. How did that happen? I am pretty sure we just celebrated the end of the year last week. I know the calendar says the middle of August, but my brain says May.
A long time ago I contemplated home schooling my children, but since I want them to actually learn something and perhaps get out of their pajamas by supper time, I squelched that idea pretty quickly.
I would also probably go to prison for hurting somebody over first grade reading. As much as I love to say, “Go read a book,” I could not be the one solely responsible for teaching phonics or whatever they are doing to instill the ability to read these days. I go nuts over sounding out words and have come to the conclusion that the English language is impossible to learn. Each and every individual who accomplishes the feat is a living miracle.
We don’t even want to get me started on spelling. I am thankful for spell check and editors who tolerate my inability to spell. I am a left-handed, right brained human with the propensity to spell things the way they sound to me, not necessarily the correct way.
My school records are hidden in a black box somewhere in the attic. I hope my children are all way out of high school before they discover them.
I was what was called an “average” student. However, the school I attended from third grade until graduation was a protected nest of eggheads. Average meant everybody else made better grades because they were, well, eggheads.
I was the art and music kind of kid (not that I was particularly stellar in those either). I am convinced, given Ritalin, I could have excelled, but who knew?
So here we are at the crux of another school year. I have two still in elementary and one in middle school. We are not excited. Even with new clothes and new supplies, the new year is just interruption for my girls.
They would happily stay at home, eat and watch television all the time. I suppose that very fact is enough for me to be glad school has begun. They have to be somewhere, which is more healthy.
Even with a wonderful sitter this summer my girls have become walking marshmallows. They have read, cooked, shopped, biked, organized, played games, fought and gone on vacation.
They have probably watched every episode of “Full House” (my idea of wholesome entertainment in spite of Bob Saget) and learned a thing or two about catching alligators from some questionable characters on the more educational channels.
But they are bored. It took all summer, which probably is a record of some sort, but they are down to moping, and that is a sure sign that school is a good option.
Let me say here and now how much I appreciate the teachers in our community. You are my heroes. I’m so glad you do what you do.
I also ask in advance for forgiveness for my shortcomings. I will button on my thinking cap and bite my lip when I want to criticize.
Let us go boldly in the direction of Christmas vacation!