I couldn't let today pass without an honorary mommy blog entry.
Today in the Reilly household, public school officially began.
I think I'm surviving it, though with Ruthie gone it feels as if my right arm or my shadow even has been torn off and taken away. Henry only went long enough to meet his teacher, choose a cubby for his things and get a tour of the nursery/kindergarten room. He starts on Friday. And boy, does he miss Ruth.
As soon as I stop crying I'll possibly be guiltily excited about the prospect of a couple of hours to myself in the mornings. Time to breath, time to not be distracted, time to do something for me, or even clean or paint some part of the house left untouched for an undistracted moment thus far.
The homeschooling didn't work. We gave it two grades and declared it a disaster, Cole and I deciding after Christmas that this just wasn't going to work anymore. I called the school, we had a tour, registered both kids and then the summer flew past in a flurry of agony and ecstasy and now here we are, (well Cole isn't here anymore though) loading backpacks and watching clocks already.
I can't wait for the academic fun to begin when they discover that Ruth was a Waldorf homeschooler, which means the first three grades are all about art and music and housework and crafts and not so much reading, writing or forced group compliance. It will be interesting. We spent more time assembling nature tables than we ever did practicing writing.
At least she's a confident, secure child with the entire world in front of her, one giant spherical endless promise.
I really hope she likes school more than I ever did.
