In my favorite poem by Robert Frost, Nothing Gold Can Stay, he reminds us that like the seasons of nature, life is one season melting into another, and quickly fading away. This is my attempt to document each season in my life and my family.

I Won’t Wear the Uniform

Filed under: General — Rachel at 1:10 pm on Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Yesterday was our first day of homeschooling. Yes, it’s true. I am now a homeschool mom. Don’t expect to see me around town in a denim jumper, though. I refuse. I just won’t do it.

Our first day went pretty well, even though we got a really late start. I’m not a set the alarm and get started real early homeschool mom. I am a nine weeks pregnant, puking first thing in the morning homeschool mom. Kyra was excited about her first day of homeschool, but don’t let that fool you into thinking she is a model student. No. She was mostly excited that she didn’t have to get up early to go to school. She is a smart kid, but has a very defeatist attitude. She tells herself something is too hard, and then proceeds to lay down her head and cry. When I do get her to focus and try…usually reading an unfamiliar word…she can usually do it easily. It can be kind of frustrating. We were done by three, though, even with the exceedingly late start. 

Today, we got a late start again. Yesterday, it was because I was not quite organized for the first day. Today, it was because I was, oh, so sick. When I finally drug myself out of bed, I threw up once, came in the kitchen, ascertained that the kids had already ate a breakfast of cookies, and sat down with Kyra to get started. She finished her math for the day in about ten minutes. Unfortunately, science and social studies slowed her down with all the reading (she doesn’t like to read), and we are taking a lunch break right now before finishing up with her English. 

So, yeah. I’m like the antithesis of the ideal homeschool mom. I don’t get up early. I don’t cook a hot, hearty breakfast. I don’t bake my own bread, and I don’t wear denim jumpers.

I do, however, suddenly speak in a sickeningly sweet, high-pitched, “you can do it” voice, praising every minor accomplishment as if a cure for cancer has just been found. I’m pretty sure it’s a downhill slide from here.

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