I'm working myself into a tizzy about the land of kindergarten, where Buckaroo is meant to travel one year from now. We moved to The Woods for many reasons, only one of which was better school choices, but now I find myself reminiscing with some lingering fondness over Sweet P's kindergarten days in California. She spent half days at a neighborhood school, and most parents walked their kids each morning and hung around to chat about the news of the day.
I have several concerns about kindergarten in The Woods, a few of which may be slanderous if I shared them publicly, so I will not. I will share, however, my concern for the overlong school day-- made longer by the 45 minute (each way) bus ride to our little crook of wilderness. I know, I know. Working parents everywhere celebrated over the extended free childcare, and I when I was a single, working, mom, I would have cheered right along beside them. I cringed every month as I wrote that $400 check for Sweet P's full-time preschool/childcare-- and there were months I couldn't afford to write it at all. Fortunately, Sweet P was never given the boot.
But now I'd like to have a choice.
If I'm honest with myself, though, and I do have those moments, I will admit that I have an irrational fear of marauding gangs of five-year-old boys and they ways in which they might cultivate deviltry in my little guy. Hey, we all have our irrational fears, and this is mine. My son is certainly no angel-child, as I'm sure you've gathered if you've spent any time reading this blog, but he has a teaspoon of sweetness at his core, and I'm afraid that public school will force him to bury that tender spot under a mountain of conformity.
I'm working on it. I hope to have let it go by September, 2012, but in the event that doesn't happen Buckaroo and I are dabbling in some homeschool.
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I wrote the above post a few weeks ago and didn't have a chance to finish it, but as it happens, life has thrown a long, boring wrench in my plans. The short and short of it is that, as is the case with so many folks, I may not have a choice about this kindergarten business, and Buckaroo will go where so many others have gone before him.
But here's the shaft of light that's keeping me from climbing into my dark cave of despair. Buckaroo decided to take up soccer, and last weekend we ventured out to watch the four- and five-year-old boys bumble around the field. During a break, one pint sized soccer player, whom we'd met once or twice before, reintroduced himself to Buckaroo and gave him a cheek-squishing bear hug.
There are sweet and gentle boys in the world, and they're not all homeschooled, and my best hope is that they will find each other.
I have several concerns about kindergarten in The Woods, a few of which may be slanderous if I shared them publicly, so I will not. I will share, however, my concern for the overlong school day-- made longer by the 45 minute (each way) bus ride to our little crook of wilderness. I know, I know. Working parents everywhere celebrated over the extended free childcare, and I when I was a single, working, mom, I would have cheered right along beside them. I cringed every month as I wrote that $400 check for Sweet P's full-time preschool/childcare-- and there were months I couldn't afford to write it at all. Fortunately, Sweet P was never given the boot.
But now I'd like to have a choice.
If I'm honest with myself, though, and I do have those moments, I will admit that I have an irrational fear of marauding gangs of five-year-old boys and they ways in which they might cultivate deviltry in my little guy. Hey, we all have our irrational fears, and this is mine. My son is certainly no angel-child, as I'm sure you've gathered if you've spent any time reading this blog, but he has a teaspoon of sweetness at his core, and I'm afraid that public school will force him to bury that tender spot under a mountain of conformity.
I'm working on it. I hope to have let it go by September, 2012, but in the event that doesn't happen Buckaroo and I are dabbling in some homeschool.
----------------
I wrote the above post a few weeks ago and didn't have a chance to finish it, but as it happens, life has thrown a long, boring wrench in my plans. The short and short of it is that, as is the case with so many folks, I may not have a choice about this kindergarten business, and Buckaroo will go where so many others have gone before him.
But here's the shaft of light that's keeping me from climbing into my dark cave of despair. Buckaroo decided to take up soccer, and last weekend we ventured out to watch the four- and five-year-old boys bumble around the field. During a break, one pint sized soccer player, whom we'd met once or twice before, reintroduced himself to Buckaroo and gave him a cheek-squishing bear hug.
There are sweet and gentle boys in the world, and they're not all homeschooled, and my best hope is that they will find each other.
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