Megan says...

So the other day Megan says to me, "Mommy, I'm sorry about this morning...I really fell off the end of my rope."

Portfolio Review

Today Erin's portfolio was reviewed by a certified teacher. All that is left is for us to send the letter she signed this morning with the form that says we intend to homeschool again and we'll be all set. Erin is officially in 2nd grade. Though the teacher looking through her stuff this morning was joking that we should do 5th grade with her--but I think we'll stick to second for now.

I remember this time last year--how apprehensive I was and how scary the whole homeschool "thing" seemed. I had schedules, unit plans, curriculum, joined homeschool groups and even turned the guest room of our house into a classroom. I have white boards here, a computer, bookshelves, educational posters, and a small classroom desk. It is beautiful...but as I was going through the portfolio with our certified teacher this morning, I realized how very little of our time was spent in this room, following those schedules or using that curriculum. Where were we? We were outside doing time lines in chalk on our street, we were at the library, we were building models and painting, reading and playing games. We were visiting museums, learning chess, going to theater classes and planting gardens. In short, we were living our life as it unfolded every day. It was awesome!

As I begin planning for next year, I have to laugh at the person I was a year ago. I smile when people ask me if we "school all year or take the summer off." Because life is our school. In June, I went to a curriculum sale, just to see what they had (and to have lunch with a friend and spend some time away from the kids...I admit!) and while there, I found a Usborne First Latin Dictionary. Erin spent most of the next two weeks labeling everything in our house in Latin. Yes, school was "out" and yes, we had finished her portfolio, but there she was, still learning and enjoying it. School is never "out" for us. There are days I count and days I don't for the purpose of reporting to the state, but school is never out.

This way is not for everyone--I have a dear friend who desperately needs the days planned out--and it may not be for us forever. But for now, it is great. Our goals this year are to incorporate more contact with the caring adults in her life. Time with grandparents, aunts and uncles and close friends are all on the docket. I'm excited to see what she will learn from them and what cool dynamic these unique relationships will bring to her life.

If you had asked me when she was born if I was going to homeschool, I would have laughed hysterically. Not me, I would have said, not my kid! Oh how things change!

Update

Some people have been asking for a quick update, so here you go. Erin finished up theater camp with her heart very much intact. We continued to pick her up early for the rest of the week and the director made a huge effort to head off problems before they started. The final performance was fantastic and Erin delivered her lines clearly and confidently. She is eager for more theater experience. In fact, having recently found out that the youth group is doing The Hobbit in the spring, she has set about trying to memorize the book. Because I'm sure that the play will be word-for-word out of the book...and if it isn't, I'm sure Erin will need to tell people exactly where things are different! (Now what director wouldn't want that kind of help??)

Theater Camp

Erin is doing a great camp right now--a theater camp that she is working very hard at. She plays several roles, including Nod, the pirate and in a different scene, she is one of the "extra" oysters. She loves the acting and the art class and the teachers. She is, however, having a hard time with some of her peers. "I can't describe it," she tells me, "They treat me like I'm different." Not all, mind you, but some. And here is the thing--she is different. She doesn't watch TV so she knows none of the same shows or characters the other kids do. (And the ones she does know probably seem kind of babyish to the other kids.) She doesn't have a cell phone or any video games. She loves hiking and biking and reading--things many her age won't admit to even doing, much less liking. What makes her really different, however, is our choice to homeschool. A choice that she has come to identify with very deeply and a choice that she continues to say she loves and "never" wants to do differently. She simply isn't used to be in a building all day with a regimented schedule (dance/movement from 9-10, acting class from 10-11:30, Art from 11:30-12:30, Lunch until 1, rehearsal from 1-3, closing workshop from 3-3:30). And she really isn't used to be judged based on what she is wearing, reading, or who she is hanging out with.

The result? She comes home in tears from being so tired and from not having gotten outside all day. She comes home upset because she wasn't able to get her favorite color marker ("The other kids formed a circle around the box and some of us couldn't get through.") She comes home not wanting to play the circle games because "the other kids don't give me a space in the circle." Last week it just built up and built up (with me knowing little about it because she was trying to maintain a happy attitude about it all) until Friday when she was sobbing all the way home. Saturday she wanted nothing to do with going anywhere (not even the Farmer's Market) and on Sunday we had to force her to go kayaking with us. Force her. Not cool.

By Sunday night, she was done. The idea of going back to camp on Monday was too much for her. At first I wanted to take the traditional Parental Responsibility route--you know the one, "You have made a commitment to the play and we have paid a lot of money for you to do this and you promised to see it through and blah blah blah..." but as I listened to my baby girl, I couldn't say those things to her. My child who talks like she is 15 and is really only 7, was in trouble and all the money or responsibility in the world was not going to help her unless I connected with her. I needed to be a safe place in her currently very scary and confusing world. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" I asked. She wanted to go through with the show, but didn't want to go to camp. We made a list of things that could get her through the week. But the next morning, she wanted to do none of them and was back to a sobbing mass. There was no way I was going to drag her to camp that day.

I had to go down there anyway because Megan is doing a program for younger kids at the same place. I took the opportunity to speak to the director who was shocked that any of this had taken place. "I know," I said, "Erin is very good at hiding it all. She does not want you to know anything is ever wrong." The director wrote me a note to give to Erin, inviting her to rehearsal that afternoon, just to talk. Erin accepted that invitation and ended up having a pretty good afternoon. I stayed just outside the room and she could see me the whole time. She went back again today and I was there all morning, going back and forth between her classes and Megan's class (with a 1/2 hour jaunt across the street to the museum with Evan). Daddy picked her up early this afternoon and now she is home with me. She didn't want to go for a swim up at Mud Pond (normally a favorite spot) and we are respecting her need to just be home. Tomorrow if she wants a half day again, we'll do that. Whatever she needs to get through the week with her heart intact.

Where am I going with this? A handful of people have said to me, "This wouldn't happen if she went to school." What they mean is that either she would 1) be immune to the teasing or 2) know how to cope better with these kids who are simply, "acting like kids." And I guess I'm so horrified by these comments I don't really know what to do. First, I don't WANT my kid "immune" to the teasing! I can't imagine living with the Erin who has been coming home from camp--the one who cries at the drop of a hat, the one who is so tired she can't think, the one who doesn't get to go outside and when she could, the one who simply doesn't want to go anywhere at all! If that is the price of "immunity" then no thank you. And as for the second reason--I have no words. Maybe these kids are acting like kids...but that should NOT be the way kids act! Blowing it off as if it is simply "reality" is stupid. It shouldn't be reality, and until more people realize that and change it, more kids will act like that and even more kids will be the victims of it. I have no intention of fixing the problem by throwing my kid into the middle of it and saying, "good luck!"

So back to the camp...today is Tuesday and she had a good day. Now that the teachers are aware of it, they are doing a great job heading off problems before they occur. Erin is getting more personal attention from the director and more pats on the back for her ideas. Tonight the girls are sleeping in a cooler basement, so hopefully they will sleep better and feel rested. We will work things out one day at a time until Friday when we will give her the biggest hug for holding herself together, being true to herself and her values, and doing a great job this week. Saturday we'll rest all day and Sunday I'm hoping for my baby girl back--heart and all.

Darn It

I just heard Erin yell at her brother, "DAMN IT, EVAN!" When I went outside to investigate and find out where she had learned that phrase, I found out she was actually yelling, "DAM IT, EVAN!" They were making a river down the driveway from the runoff and it was going the wrong way and she needed Evan's help to divert it.

So that's okay, right?

Boys and Girls

Perhaps this has happened to you--you are in a store or at a playground or whatever and someone makes a comment about your family structure, however your structure is. For example, my friend Karen who has two boys followed by a girl, often gets comments like, "Oh--you finally got a girl!" as if "getting" a girl was the whole point of having children in the first place. I often get the opposite; I "finally" got a boy. Usually I can just smile and nod--there is no need to point out that my "finally got" was actually four years, one stillbirth and two miscarriages later. We didn't finally get a boy, we finally got a living, breathing, healthy baby to add to our family. There is a big difference! Now, of course, sometimes...just sometimes...when the person saying it is particularly irritating or being snide, I'll tell them the whole truth. "At least you finally got a boy this time," they'll say. "Actually, since our last baby died, we were simply hoping for living this time." I know, it is petty and mean, but it shuts them up and, like I said, I only use that line when someone has really ticked me off.

Anyway, now that I "finally have a boy" people are always asking me about the differences between the girls and Evan. To be honest, I think most of the differences I have noticed thus far are due to different personalities and birth order. Erin was also a very high energy, excited, climbing, little bundle of trouble...but the difference there was that when she was this age, she was an only child. One kid, two parents. We didn't realize how easy we had it! Evan, on the other hand, is often found in something, on something or up something--is this because he is a boy or because, frankly, we aren't always paying attention? Who knows.

He does have a strong affinity for Daddy's lawn mower. He likes to climb on it and sit at the wheel. When I can't find Evan, I always check the garage--he's probably on the tractor! Is it because he's a boy? Does the Y chromosome carry some kind of tractor magnet on it? I have no idea. But he loves that tractor...almost as much as he loves pushing dolls in the pink baby stroller.

What's In A Name?

As you can imagine, pregnancy is a time of great joy and anticipation for most families. Is it a boy? A girl? Will she have his eyes? Will he have her hair? Couples pick out color schemes for the perfect nursery, buy clothes and cloth diapers and probably even a toy or two. Can you remember that time? Can you remember all the things you wanted to give your baby?

When your baby dies, you get to give them one thing--a name. I will never forget the conversation I had with my dear friend, Carol, when we were talking about this very thing. Carol found out that her daughter was not alive a few hours before she was born. Between the time they found out and the time she was born, Carol admitted to her husband that she didn't want to "use up" the name they had picked out. It was her absolute favorite name and, in that void between being a mom, not really knowing what it is to be a mom and hold your baby, and the knowledge that her baby was not alive...well, she was understandably confused about using the name. But her husband stood firm and told her that this baby was the same baby they had named when she was alive, and that was who she was*. There was no doubt about it, the baby who was born was fully their daughter--their beautiful and perfect baby girl. Her name is Charlotte.

Sophie got her name in a different way--see, I have always wanted a little girl named Kathryn. Not sure why, but every time I got to name a girl, we never ended up on Kathryn. Chris wasn't into the "K" names for a while (they are/were so popular!) and the middle names we had picked out didn't seem to fit. But when I found out I was pregnant for the third time, I said to Chris, "If this is a girl, we will name her Kathryn." There was no doubt about it. But, of course, that isn't how things went. As things got worse that weekend, the last thing on our mind was what to name her--we were thinking more how to save her. And then it happened--all that emergency stuff I don't really like to talk about. It was during all that that I have this one memory--a memory so strong that when I close my eyes and think about it, I can remember the room, where everyone was, who was there, what it smelled like...but I was lying on the table and in front of me there was a little white baby. She was in profile, like you might see in an ultrasound picture, but she wasn't fuzzy or anything--she was perfectly clear. And very white, surrounded by a blackness that blocked out everything but her brightness. I won't say I was talking to her, but we were definitely communicating. As I'm writing this, I realize how crazy it sounds and how strange it all must seem to someone who didn't experience it first hand. So I'll skip it all and tell you that after our "communication" she floated away and under her profile, in the same bright light, were the words, Sophia Anne.

When I awoke some time later, I knew she was gone. My husband was there, holding my hand and I looked at him and said, "We are going to name her Sophia Anne." He just nodded (as if you would ever argue with a woman who has been unconscious!)

Months went by and I could not shake the guilt I felt for not naming her Kathryn. I mean, after all, what made her any less worthy of the name? If she had lived, that would have been her name...so why could I not bring myself to use it in death? Carol, similarly, feels some sadness at not being able to really use the name Charlotte--I mean, she never gets to yell across a playground, "Come on Charlotte, let's get home for dinner." or "Charlotte! Clean your room!" So in her mind, she also didn't get to use it the way she wanted (no duh!) Friends of mine who are devout say that I didn't name Sophie, God did, in that "vision" I had. Maybe. Like I said, I know what I experienced and I know how crazy it all sounds...but maybe.

So what does it come down to? Basically that neither Carol or I got what we wanted (obviously) and we both wrestle with this. But we both had these baby girls and we both got to give them one thing--a name. Charlotte Amelia and Sophia Anne. Beautiful names for two beautiful girls.

Imagine my surprise today when Erin came home from her first day at Theater Camp and said she had two new best friends--Charlotte and Sophia. So I ask you--what's in a name?


* Carol, forgive me if I'm paraphrasing in a way that isn't exactly true to your story.