These last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind of trying to finish up multiple projects for our local county fair. Yup, the county fair – quaint, right? It conjures up visions of sheep shows, tractor pulls, and pie eating contests. Very rural, very small-town America.
The kids love it. And I use it – like any sneaky homeschooling mom would!
One of the categories is “Educational Display.” so guess what we did? Homeschooling science fair project! Sort of. More of the board without the project. And the Princess, wearing the sparkling new age of 4, announced that SHE wanted to do a board too now that she’s just barely squeaking in the age requirement. So, 2 boards.
Those things hold a lot of paper.
These days, I’m always tired. I’m worn, I’m stressed, I’m lost in busyness.
This part of being a parent is not my favorite: raising littles drains my brain cells away. At the end of the day I collapse, exhausted.
Needs must – caterpillars call for food, their chomping slowed and waiting, bare sticks left in a little caterpillar tree.
I drag myself up and go, putting on the muddy boots that have lost any hope of ever being “rain” boots again. Down the steps, down the hill, one foot after the other.
I love homeschooling. The options to do what we want, the flexibility with learning disabilities, and the organic learning that happens just in our daily lives. But if I’m being honest, I’m not too happy that we’re homeschooling.
I’m not happy that we have no choice: that the Engineer cannot function in a traditional school. America’s public schools are built on a platform of “free education for all,” and yet, our part of the “all” isn’t being met. We’re having to step into a job that we are not equipped for, that we’re not funded for, and that we weren’t prepared for.
Dear friends and family of those with high needs kids,
I thought I would take a minute and write you a little note to help you understand something that seems to be confusing. I’m writing it because the family you know may have trouble telling you this – or they may be desperately trying to make it work while you have no idea what it’s like. Here’s the thing: making the trip to see you (and stay there with you) is torture.
Not because of you, good heavens no! Because, kids.
I’m assuming you don’t have high needs kids. That’s great! Maybe you have kids who are chill when it comes to traveling. Maybe your kids are grown and gone. Maybe, just maybe, you don’t have kids, and you probably don’t realize what I’m trying to say. So I’ll be blunt. Traveling with high needs kids is hell. A very special kind of hell that you turn around and repeat just so you can go home.
Glitter is my nemesis. I hate it. It’s designed by the devil himself to thwart any attempts to clean it up, and it’s sparkly and tempting to small children. The very first time I figured out that the then-infant Engineer knew how to unscrew bottle lids was at the craft store. In the glitter aisle. He grabbed a HUGE tube of glitter and went “ooooh” and “ahhh!” and by the time I was able to grab it back, the lid was off, and the glitter …. everywhere!
I banned it. I hate it. My kids love it.
“Mommy, those magnets look soooo cool! I want to make those for our project!”
There went my resolve.