Addi started school this fall. I was so torn sending her to Kindergarten. But I knew that I had loved school and just knew she would love it too.
The school year went on, she seemed to be doing OK as far as class went, but there still seemed to be a lack of.... something. Her schoolwork was too easy, she couldn't find people to play with at recess, she came home sad that even though she was good she wasn't being moved up to blue, purple or pink, her schoolwork would never be colored because she said that they didn't have enough time. It was becoming clear that school was built for those with behavior problems. Bubbles in your mouth, hands behind your back, colors for behavior, everyone having to sit quietly for lunch, etc. It was becoming clear that she wasn't learning much, in fact she seemed to be losing the reading skills she had gained during the summer. Her teacher seemed disconnected from the class, and didn't have a voice (even 2 months into school) because she was having to yell so much. School just seemed... Off. It just wasn't "working".
On October 23, 2013, I had a conversation with one of my good friends about school, being let down with our daughter's schooling situations, and the option of homeschooling.
Later that day I waited in the parent pickup line to pick up Addi from school. I rarely pick her up from school, but that day I did. I remember distinctly thinking that I needed to kneel down and pray about what to do about Addi's schooling. I remember thinking about how much I didn't want to homeschool her. I remember thinking that I would need a clear-cut answer if I were going to homeschool her. There would need to be no doubt in my mind about what was the right thing to do.
I picked her up from school. Her teacher came to the car and said she needed to call me about something that had happened at school that day.
I asked Addi what happened at school. She didn't have an answer. I sat on the couch with her, read her Ladybug Girl and had my phone in hand. It rang. I spoke with her teacher. And at that moment everything changed. I hung up and sobbed. I hugged Addi in disbelief. It was also a moment of great clarity as I was given a clear-cut answer about the future of Addi's schooling. It broke my heart.
The school year went on, she seemed to be doing OK as far as class went, but there still seemed to be a lack of.... something. Her schoolwork was too easy, she couldn't find people to play with at recess, she came home sad that even though she was good she wasn't being moved up to blue, purple or pink, her schoolwork would never be colored because she said that they didn't have enough time. It was becoming clear that school was built for those with behavior problems. Bubbles in your mouth, hands behind your back, colors for behavior, everyone having to sit quietly for lunch, etc. It was becoming clear that she wasn't learning much, in fact she seemed to be losing the reading skills she had gained during the summer. Her teacher seemed disconnected from the class, and didn't have a voice (even 2 months into school) because she was having to yell so much. School just seemed... Off. It just wasn't "working".
On October 23, 2013, I had a conversation with one of my good friends about school, being let down with our daughter's schooling situations, and the option of homeschooling.
Later that day I waited in the parent pickup line to pick up Addi from school. I rarely pick her up from school, but that day I did. I remember distinctly thinking that I needed to kneel down and pray about what to do about Addi's schooling. I remember thinking about how much I didn't want to homeschool her. I remember thinking that I would need a clear-cut answer if I were going to homeschool her. There would need to be no doubt in my mind about what was the right thing to do.
I picked her up from school. Her teacher came to the car and said she needed to call me about something that had happened at school that day.
I asked Addi what happened at school. She didn't have an answer. I sat on the couch with her, read her Ladybug Girl and had my phone in hand. It rang. I spoke with her teacher. And at that moment everything changed. I hung up and sobbed. I hugged Addi in disbelief. It was also a moment of great clarity as I was given a clear-cut answer about the future of Addi's schooling. It broke my heart.