Preparing to go back to school ... to the other side of the podium

Many of you know that Josh and I have been wrestling over whether to homeschool our kids. With Rye having turned 5 back in the spring, this was the year we had to make a real decision and take steps in our chosen direction.

First, some background. Josh grew up homeschooling from 5th through 9th grades. He went to a private Christian school before that, and public high school (where we met) after that. His older brothers went to a combination of private school and public school. His younger sister almost completely homeschooled.

I went to private Catholic school from 1st through 5th grade, when my family lived in Baltimore City, mostly because it was safe and the most affordable private school (I was not being raised Catholic but my father was, and he and his four siblings had attended the same school). After my parents moved us to rural Harford County, I went to good old North Harford Middle School and North Harford High School. I saw no “problems” with public school, merely that it was mostly a waste of time. Homework was busywork and easy, so why not just do it and get it over with? And as for tests and things like AP classes, my theory was to study just enough to get the low A/high B. I was all about return on investment. A 90 and a 100 all turn out the same on a transcript. Besides, I liked reading books, and writing, and had jobs in high school, so it’s not like I was sitting around and smoking pot and playing video games. I actually did have better things to be doing with my time.

After we married and had  discussions about hypothetical children, Josh told me he would like us to homeschool our children. I agreed—I was feeling pretty burnt out on daily newspaper journalism and liked the idea of staying home, plus I thought the majority of the school day was a big waste of time, and I pictured our kids would be little geniuses who just wanted to read books too. Self-learners, really. Heck, the most important thing I could teach them was how to cook dinner, and then I’d really have it easy.

And as for the whole stereotype that homeschool kids are weird, as a reporter who covered lots of kid stories I had met a decent number of homeschooled children, including many through the 4-H program. They didn’t seem weird at all—they seemed smart, and enjoyed talking with adults and looked you in the eye like an equal. Sometimes they had passionate interests, which some people might perceive as weird, but I’ll take a passionate kid over one that just answers every question with an “I don’t know” or “fine.”

Fast-forward a few years into actually becoming parents. I gave up my fulltime job and was freelancing 2 articles a week in the beginning, sometimes more. Then Rye’s nap schedule became less predictable, and I got a new boss who I wasn’t getting along with, and by the time I was pregnant with Knox, I decided the low pay wasn’t worth the frustration and stress so I cut back to just writing my weekly food column. Around this time, Rye became more challenging as well. I still don’t know if it was that a switch was flipped when Knox was born, or if it would have happened anyway as his little personality continued to emerge and evolve, but suddenly Rye and I were butting heads over the stupidest things. He would do it to Josh too, though Josh, in his ability to work outside of the home, frequently got to walk away from a situation before it got out of control. I don’t have that luxury. And you may wonder why a parent would even bother wasting time arguing with a preschooler, but if you just ignore their bizarre assertions (this one isn’t real because I’m having a hard time coming up with one on the spot but let’s say “it never rains on Thursdays,”), they think they’re always right and have a false understanding of the world. I know Rye isn’t the only preschooler to act like this (the YouTube series “Convos with my 2-year-old” comes to mind), but I’d say 75 percent of the day’s conversations were these nonsense arguments, and the other 25 percent were him asking the same questions over and over again, like “what’s your favorite road sign?”

By the time Rye was turning 4, I was pretty sure I’d rather work full-time cleaning toilets than homeschool him. Josh kept ignoring my declarations of “there’s no way in hell I’m going to homeschool,” instead talking about how much he was going to grow up by the time we actually had to make a decision. Except I realized in December of his 4-year-old preschool year that all private schools do their open houses and start enrollment in January. Shit. We had to make up our minds.

My one glimmer of hope for homeschooling was Christiana Homeschool Academy, right here in Westminster, which one set of friends had sent their oldest daughter to for preschool and kindergarten. This is not a homeschool group or a traditional homeschool co-op, where parents take turns leading weekly one or two sessions on a particular school subject or just have playdates at the park or reserve programs at the nature center together. This was run like a private school, but at a serious fraction of the cost, and uses paid parents and outsiders as tutors, and the best part, the kids go for two whole days a week (8:30 to 3:30). For elementary school, parents teach their kids reading and math on their own, and all other subjects are covered on the in-school days. What other classes are there? Um, how about science, history, art, music, grammar and LATIN! Even in preschool they start learning Latin. And the kids wear uniforms, which make it feel even more official. From the outside, it was kind of hard to understand how it worked, but I was clinging onto it as my lifeline, our compromise to homeschooling.

The first week in January, we went to an open house where we were one of five sets of parents, and we got a real feel for the school. And I was way more impressed than I had expected! The school teaches a “classical education,” which divides children’s stages of learning into grammar, dialectic and rhetoric. Basically this means that in the first stage you teach your kids to memorize stuff and don’t worry about whether they understand; in the second stage the kids try out those ideas and prove they understand them; and finally they use that information to form their own thoughts and ideas. At Christiana, they also learn the history of the world, taking 4 years to make it through all parts of the world, repeating the cycle 3 times and going deeper each time. I really like that, because my public school education was so American-centric. And we are such a young country.

And the staff that we met just had the perfect vibe about them. Considering this is kind of like a private school, I was afraid it was going to feel stuffy, and that the staff would be braggy, and the parents snobbish. But the vibe we got from everyone was that they want to promote individuality in learning, and that they take teaching very seriously, but there’s no need to brag about their school or try to convince us to come there. There was an unspoken “here’s what we have to offer, does that fit in with how you are raising your child?” We left with the registration packet in hand, and personally, I was a little concerned that there are only 12 slots per grade and would we be able to get Rye in? The school has a preschool and I would assume all of them would be going to kindergarten (that is, if they hadn’t failed Latin), and I wanted to make sure we got one of those 12 spots.

In March, we started the registration process and put down the deposit. But because of Rye’s doctor’s appointments that were leading us toward the diagnosis of his osteoid osteoma, we had to put off the formal interview twice. When Rye and I finally sat down with the headmaster (that makes sounds like a boarding school!), Rye did quite well and I felt at ease. And then the headmaster looked over our family background and noticed that I had been a professional writer for 11 years. Was there a reason why I wasn’t interested in being a tutor (teacher) at the school? After all, tutors get paid and they even offer onsite childcare for younger siblings for a whopping $1 per hour. I kind of brushed it off, saying that with a 2-year-old who still naps midday and needs to wait another year before preschool, it just didn’t seem like it would work for our family. But then he pointed out that just because you tutor a class doesn’t mean you have to tutor all day. You can take on one class or as many classes as you are interested in doing. “And in fact, I happen to know that the 9^th grade writing position will be open next year, and that only meets once a week.” Suddenly I felt all tingly inside. I told him I would think about it and let him know if I had reconsidered my stance on tutoring for this school year.

The more I thought about it the more it seemed like a great idea. I’ve been getting a bit restless with the stay-at-home mom routine, speaking only to people aged 6 and under. I had been hoping a pharmacy position would come open for Josh so he would stop floating and have a set schedule, thus allowing me to get a one-day a week job (yeah, this isn’t about rebooting my career or making money, just buying me some freedom and an opportunity to interact with adults). But Josh doesn’t want to stop floating, and it seemed really unlikely that I could get a one-day a week job anyway. Working one hour a week—that sounded pretty amazing! And while the tutor position doesn’t pay too much, it would cover about 2/3 of Rye’s tuition. I was pretty intimidated by the teaching aspect of the job, but I was assured that you are handed a binder of the last year’s tutor’s lesson plans and materials, and while it’s not quite a script, you are not operating in the dark either. Within a week, I emailed the headmaster that we were officially accepting Rye’s acceptance into the school, and that I was interested in being the 9^th grade writing teacher. He responded that he would pass the news onto the department chair and that tutor assignments would be made in the first week of June.

But I didn’t hear back from him during the first week of June. Or the second week. Or the third. Somewhere in there I emailed again to see if the class had been assigned to someone else, and he said no, but that the department chair had some concerns that I was new to the school and writing is kind of one of the harder areas to step into in the high school years and catch up with the system the school uses to teach writing (Institute for Excellence in Writing). But he said that considering my background, and the fact that I would only be tutoring one child at home—and a kindergartener at that—he thought I could handle it and he would restate my interest to the department chair.

Again, nothing. Until July 11, suddenly I got an email asking if I was still interested, and if so, could I attend the new tutor training on July 18? I had given up hope on the opportunity, and had that nervous excited feeling all over again. I quickly emailed back that I was still interested, but that 1) I would have to miss the new tutor training because that was Knox’s birthday and we had a birthday outing planned for that day, and 2) I would have to miss the first day of school because we’ll be on vacation. (P.S.—don’t tell Rye he’s missing the first day of school. I think his structured personality wouldn’t like that, and there’s really no reason he needs to worry about missing the first day of kindergarten in a school with one kindergarten teacher and 12 kids in the class.) The headmaster responded that those situations weren’t ideal, but totally workable. Oh, and the class is at 2:30 on Wednesdays (perfect because school gets out at 3:30, so no extra trips back and forth) and has just 6 kids. I don’t think those specifics could have been any better. As scary as it was to accept the position, I truly feel like it was God’s plan.

So guys, I’m going to be a teacher! I never wanted to be a teacher, even when I was excited about homeschooling, but I still feel like this is a great opportunity. I like that it’s 9^th graders—the most humble of high school students. It’s just about writing, not literature. This is the point in the school where they transition away from strict grammar memorization and exercises (confession: I never was taught how to diagram a sentence!) and their homework is more writing exercises, like writing opening and concluding paragraphs on an essay they never actually write the meat of. (And that I never have to read and grade the meat of either!) I met with last year’s tutor and got her lesson plan book from her, and while I fear I’m going to feel like a substitute teacher the whole year, the headmaster assured me that feeling fades away after the first month or two.

I went to the general tutor “training” in August but it wasn’t so much of a training as it was a time to meet the other tutors and get some pep talks. The general vibe I got from the other tutors is that they take this very seriously. Which makes me feel great as a parent. And incredibly stressed as a new tutor. And I get an email from them almost every day, which is fine, I don’t mind emails, but even being a parent in this school feels like a big commitment, which is kind of what my friend who had sent her daughter to the school said too. Oh, and parents who aren’t tutors have to either volunteer 1 or 2 whole days a month (a lot considering there are only 8 or 9 school days a month) in the school, doing office work and other staff type of work since they have a very minimal staff for the school. But as a tutor, I’ll get out of that. Though I do have to commit to one other special duty, and I quickly signed up to be the person who coordinates and orders either pizza or Chick-Fil-A for lunch once a month. It’s still a 3-hour commitment, but only once a month, and it’s the kind of thing that you do and forget about until the next day comes up. And everyone loves the bringer of special food!

This has gone on way too long, so I’m going to wrap it up here and just say in the next few weeks, my life is going to change drastically. I don’t think I would have been the kind of parent who cries as they drop their kindergartener off on his first day of school (if anything, I’m more the “let’s have a round of mimosas!” kind of mom), but honestly, I’m more nervous about my first day of school than his. Thankfully our first days are two days apart, so he can have his special first day on the Monday and I will have my special first day on that Wednesday.

Oh, and here’s a preview to Rye’s first day of school outfit, as he was trying on his UNIFORM! Never mind the barefoot Huck Finn look. He has to wear black leather shoes and he hates them, and I’ve never made him wear dress shoes in his life, and so he’s super over-reacting about them. Or maybe in the grand scheme we should all react in this way when we’re forced to wear uncomfortable clothes that don’t allow us to express ourselves, but more on that later.

Check back next week as I write about the specifics of preparing to go back out into the working world again!

Enough of the summer that wasn't enough

It’s been a weird summer. I had declared it would be “The Summer of Vitamin D” for homemade ice cream and outdoor time, but I haven’t done too much of either. I think we’ve made 3 or 4 batches of ice cream, which is more than I’ve made most years but not as much as I had hoped, and I guess the kids go outside for at least 90 minutes a day, but we haven’t done anything “outdoorsy.” Most days it’s just the kids scrapping with the other neighborhood kids: playing tag, shooting water guns, fighting over plastic lawn mowers. The neighborhood kids tend to congregate in our yard, which is good because then I can supervise. On the other hand, it means I HAVE to supervise. If Knox is out, I have to stay close by because he is liable to wander off, even into the alley or toward the sound of the train that passes through at least twice a day. If the five- and six-year-old boys—this neighborhood is ALL boys— see me, they want me to arbitrate all their scuffles. I take that back—they want me to declare them right and the other boy wrong and ban the offender from our yard, but I end up trying to arbitrate and downplay most offenses instead. It’s exhausting. I’m often guilty of luring Knox back inside so I don’t have to be Judge Carrie. Without an adult, they tend to work it out on their own. They also are likely to find sharp metal objects in our renovation trash heap and “saw” a hole into the bathroom screen.

As for the renovation, we are getting VERY close to finishing! Though I guess it depends on where you draw the line for “finished.” The walls are all up and painted, the ceiling lights are in, the laundry room cabinets are installed and just got their butcher block counters (though we still have to seal them). The new washer and dryer were delivered Monday, but they haven’t been hooked up. That’s another weird part of this summer, I haven’t had laundry facilities in our home since early July when the old laundry water pipes were disconnected. The majority of our laundry has been done at our tenants’ apartments while they’re on vacation. Friday I went to a dear friend’s while she and her family had an overnight trip, and the kids and I camped out for 5 hours and did 5 loads of laundry while feeding their dogs and letting them out and cooking ourselves a frozen pizza and watching a movie there. I am really excited for when my laundry room is going to be all done, but just getting the washer and dryer hooked up is going to be a huge relief. I think I’m going on laundry strike until that happens.

The other final steps for the basement are installing the nice wooden stairs instead of the “temporary” stairs we have used for 10 years, the flooring, the trim, hanging doors, the cabinet for the utility sink in the laundry room, bathroom vanity installation, plumbing hookups (as in new toilet and connecting the two sinks), installation of wall sconces and light dimmers, rebuilding the radiator and baseboard heating loop and installing the new ductless air conditioners. Josh and I were laughing that we feel like we’re in the last 5 minutes of an HGTV episode where they show everything in fast motion to get everything done by the end of the show and the grand reveal. Our contractor Scott plans to start his next job Aug. 27, so theoretically, our job *should* be finished by then.

And “finished” is going to mean finished playroom, laundry room, bathroom and a hall closet. The mudroom has been booted to the next phase. The mudroom is about 10 feet by 10 feet and currently has a raw concrete floor that we leveled ourselves, concrete walls that have been covered in a waterproofing cement product, and still the exposed flooring ceiling. This was also supposed to be separated from the playroom by glass French doors, but those have been put off for now, or possibly until our cats die because the thought is that the litter box will go back there and the French door would always have to be open anyway to let the cats in there (the cats are 15 years old, isn’t that about average lifespan?). The walls and ceiling will get insulation and drywall, but just not yet. I think I’m going to make Josh and Scott do a blood brothers pact with me that we’ll still finish it by Thanksgiving because I don't want it to stay like that for the next 5 years or until the cats die, but for now I’m trying to chill out and just focus on getting my laundry room and moving all the toys down to the playroom.

Today is Aug. 8, so there’s a whole month of summer left for me, as our family takes our second vacation during the first week of September. But the kids seem kind of summered-out, and we thought Josh was going to have a light work schedule for August, but when we try to plan fun family things to do, there never seems to be the time for them. Next weekend we’re finally going to D.C. to see some friends we had been trying to find time to visit since MAY! It’s shameful! I wanted this to be a memorable summer for fun, but I think it’s only going to be memorable for the basement construction project.

Speaking of which, I believe we're getting a dump truck load of dirt delivered this weekend. In the two monsoon-like storms we experienced in the past two weeks, our basement got some water. Not what I’d call flooding, but an amount closer to puddles than just damp spots. And this is after thousands of dollars spent on replacing blocks in the foundation and coating everything above ground and about 6 inches below ground with the waterproof coating. It’s really frustrating, but the masonry guys kept pointing out that our grading around the house is pretty messed up, and it’s gotten even more messed up since they did the last round of work (and since 5-year-olds with shovels keep insisting on further digging up the softened up dirt), so we decided to try re-grading away from the house. A dump truck of dirt is going to be a heck of a lot cheaper than whatever the foundation specialists recommend next. It might work permanently, or it might just buy us some time. Praying it’s the former and not the latter.

I’ve been writing this on my porch because Scott is screwing down the subfloor with an air compressor and I guess an air drill, and it is an intolerable sound. But now he’s doing the part by the front of the house, so I can still hear it. I’m going to cut this one short and try to write again next week. I have more exciting news to share about back-to-school season!