Monday, August 1, 2016

Back to Homeschool: Expectations vs. Reality

Expectations

The children arise cheery and eager to sit down to the breakfast table at 7:30 sharp. They walk out of their bedrooms dressed and greet me with a "Good morning, mom. You look splendid today." 

The waffles are piping hot and we all sit down for a lovely breakfast and we talk about how excited we are to dive into 5th and 1st grade. Their excitement is breathtaking!

We get out our workbooks and begin. Each child works well alone, and is speeding through their work with flow and ease. We ease through English, Grammar, and move on quickly to Math. They remember all of their multiplication facts and can recall everything we learned last year.

We move on to history, where we are approaching the civil war with excitement! Abraham Lincoln is our favorite president and we are preparing to read his biography and do a book report. 

We then move on to science and do a small experiment with the phases of the moon. We plan to go out tonight and "observe" the dark moon.

We break for lunch, clean up our area, head to the library and check out 1,000 books that spark our interests. Then we head home and play independently until father walks in the door.

Reality

At 7:30, Dylan walks out of his room. He begins talking to me about his guinea pig before I have had my second cup of coffee. This makes my eye twitch. No other child is awake. But then I hear the roar of a 3 year old who doesn't understand why it's already day time and Jude won't get up. He stomps out of his room and slams the door.

I prepare Dylan his waffles, and upon that sight, Wesley would like a waffle. I cut it up and present it to him at the table. He throws a tantrum because they are not waffles, like he thought, they are pancakes. I express to him that cutting them up does not make them pancakes. He insists they are now pancakes. He is asked to resume his tantrum in his bedroom. He complies, returns 10 minutes later having breached his contract with the devil, and eats his waffles.  

Two more boys appear. They seem to be in good spirits. 

After breakfast is cleared, we get out our workbooks. We start on English, which I am not certain that either child is fluent in.  

Jude cries for 30 minutes because I asked him to write his name. 

We move on to math. They cannot recall multiplication facts and when I mentioned division, I heard "like, Tom Clancy's The Division?". I say curse words under my breath. We finish math review, and I put the public school's telephone number on speed dial.

The Civil War breaks out at the dining room table, which I am told is now Vicksburg, and the Union victory is imminent. The war breaks a window, a chair leg, and I am pretty sure Jude is blind now. The victory makes it difficult for me to cross from the kitchen to the living room, which are Confederate territory. I penned a letter to Abe, hopefully he can get me out of this one.

After we surrendered to the Union, we read a book about the phases of the moon. There's some project with an apple on a stick and a flashlight. Hayden took a bite out of the apple and declared the moon was not made of cheese. I sob quietly.

I broke and they fixed lunch. We cleaned up what we could, and then headed to the library where I owed a $28 late fee. I pay $20 and they waive the rest. (WTF? waive the whole thing, then!)) 

I pick out a few books that I want them to read, and they counter the offer with books about alligators, horror stories, and wimpy kids. As we head out of the library, Wesley declares at least as loudly as he can, that he needs to poop. Laughter erupts. I die of embarrassment. 

They demand cookies upon our arrival home and scamper off to their rooms to play video games. I make coffee, and reevaluate my life. 

All of this and none of this is true! It was a great day, and the kids did great!






3 comments:

  1. Love this! You are really a great writer! I enjoyed every bit of it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thankyou, love! That means so much!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thankyou, love! That means so much!

    ReplyDelete