A few weeks ago I mentioned that I was having difficulty homeschooling my youngest.
My husband and I reached a decision about what to do. We signed our son up for Kindergarten.
His first day was today. Apropos to her profession, his teacher is named Mrs. Smart. He's only there two hours per day.
I walked the tiny man up to his classroom and walked through it with him and his teacher. I felt good about leaving him there. The more Mrs. Smart talked, the more I thought, "Yes. This is good." I saw a few of the other kids come into the classroom and they were sweet and well-behaved. Then I patted my son's cheeks and said I'd see him in two hours. I walked to my car and cried all the way home.
As parents do we ever really know if we're doing the right thing for our children? How do we know these decisions aren't going to screw them up in some way? How can I feel good about leaving him under the influence of a woman I barely met today, who could expose him to anything and everything of the cruelest or rudest or most vile, and I wouldn't know until the damage had been done? (I realize I'm over-dramatizing. But the thought is there.)
On the other hand, there was the nice feeling in her classroom. Also the pushing he gave me every day to let him do this. This is as much his decision as it was his parents'.
So, after all the dithering, this is the result: More dithering.
Maybe it's not the homeschooling that's hard. It's mothering.