Well, Momma done did it.
Got another bright idea and had to go with it.
The latest in my long line of “good ideas gone bad” is : Homeschooling.
After several weeks of The Kid coming in from school with a big sad face and a most unpleasant attitude, I managed to get a look at what was really going on behind the scenes. Even though I checked his agenda every day and we worked on homework together, I found that he was missing at least two weeks worth of work.
“How is this possible?” I asked, shaking the paper as if the answers would tumble off of it.
He shrugged and said, “I dunno....”
We worked on several assignments that night, hoping to be able to turn them in for a bump up in his grade.
As soon as he was off to school the next morning, I printed out all the forms I needed to get him into homeschooling.
It was a risk I was willing to take.
I spent about an hour or so with a representative who was in Virginia, lovely young gal with a terrific personality, who explained how she wished she had been able to take advantage of homeschooling.
She was 16 when she started her first year of college, determined to get schooling done with so she could start working.
Her parents were immigrants from Afghanistan and were relieved to be able to raise their family here.
“Kids here don’t get it,” she said, “I would never have been able to get this far over there. We still have family there and it’s vastly different from the life we lead here. These Wall Street Occupyers would shut up if they knew what life was like anywhere else on the globe.”
She instructed me on what to do with all the paperwork and when they would start counting his attendance ... a mere four days away.
All the paperwork got sent off and things finally got rolling in the right direction.
Just in time, too.
The kid came home from his last day at the brick and mortar with the longest face I’d seen yet.
“Man. I hate it there,” he said.
“What’s the matter, bunky? Tough day?”
“Those kids stink!” he said, slamming down his backpack.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” I said slyly.
“You start homeschooling on Monday,” I continued.
It was like Christmas all over again. Like I’d opened up a giant box of candy. All the running around, hootin’ and hollerin’... oh, it was a gleefest.
I’ve nearly completed the first week of homeschooling, which we’ve done without the required books because they haven’t arrived yet, so I’ve been hanging on to the books from his other school.
He has two “virtual classroom” settings each day, and they are pretty funny. The kids still get up to no good, even in online learning.
Yesterday, two of the students were playing a chase game on the whiteboard that the instructor was using and he said, very dryly,
“It would appear that some people are not taking this work seriously. I would recommend that you end the game or you’ll be banned from the class.”
Very much like Ben Stein going, “Bueller ... Bueller....” in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”
The next class started and The Kid was in his pajamas and robe, rolling around on the floor with his airsoft guns, wearing his “Army” helmet. He was role-playing, yelling instructions to his “squad,” while at the same time, yelling answers back to the computer during Language Arts class.
Then he got up and danced his way through the kitchen to fetch a drink from the fridge and take a treat out of the Halloween bowl.
I was sitting right there, quietly watching the whole scene, trying not to double over laughing.
It was like the scene in “Seinfeld,” where George Costanza is skipping through the park wearing oven mitts.
That was The Kid. Happy as a lark and loving life.
I had to keep steering him back over to the chair to sit. Funny how doing that reminded me of my teacher in the third grade having to do the same thing with me. And the fourth grade. And the fifth grade...
“No wonder you were doing so poorly in class ... you couldn’t move!”
He laughed and said, “Oh, I was OK with that. It was just those stupid kids that I didn’t like!”
Without books at the moment, we haven’t been able to accomplish much, but once we get them, he’s gonna be workin’ like a dawg.
And he won’t mind because I will be right there as the “learning coach” to supervise all of it.
What was I thinking?