You may think I've replaced my arm with a leg. My bicep is pressed against my padded VS bra, so that's why my arm is as big as my head. It's a horrid picture, especially since the picture's composition and my posture make it look I'm taking my homie to a Sadie Hawkins dance. I just wanted to give you a chance to snicker at my larm (leg-arm). Isn't your day better now?
I'm so tempted to home school my boys, just for a year. In one year I'd like to see if I could outdo what's done in a class filled with twenty-eight students and one little teacher. I'm positive I could teach double or triple the expected curriculum standard for their grade levels. What a public school gets done in six hours, I could do in 2 hours max. We'd read books from a customized reading list that would prepare them for high school and beyond. We'd use Kumon and Saxon for our math class, and I'd buy Sonlight's core curriculum to fill in all the gaps (history and science), and I'd top it all off with some Easy Grammar. The three of us would get done in a year what a public school gets done in two or three years. Plus, the added benefit of having them home with me is enticing me in ways it never has before. I feel like I can't be around them enough.
But what about all their friends? Sometimes I think the street smarts my homies glean from the good and the bad social parts of school far outweigh the academics. I would have never learned how to flip-off someone had I not been a VIP at Julie Trejo's exclusive tutorial in the girls' bathroom. I've kept her valuable lesson in the corner of my mind, just in case. My homies' teachers have taught them to lovingly and empathetically team with classmates who have special needs. They've learned how to retaliate when the the bully boys call out: "You've got lady legs, pretty boy." They've learned how to listen and follow directions en masse, preparing them for the college classroom and their future jobs. The education I could provide would eliminate valuable life lessons, and I could never forgive myself if they left my home ill-prepared for the real world. I will have to pray about this one.
P.S. Do you know what a butterfly uses to slurp nectar? A proboscis. I learned that in Mrs. Askew's second grade class, and I still remember it to this day.
I'm feeling you sister. I struggle over and over. I have this friend who has leaped off the edge and dug in. I always think she's loo loo. Then without fail, I follow in her footsteps eventually. She home schools. She shops at Trader Joe's She makes her own deodorant.
ReplyDeleteI'm pretty sure I'll never eat sheep cheese though.