by Paige Loter
My second child would be born in September, just as my son, Nico, would be starting kindergarten. People kept saying to me, either sincerely or sarcastically, that it was perfect timing. The sincere comments were about how I could now enjoy one-on-one time with the new baby now that Nico would be at school for four hours a day. The sarcastic comments noted how just as I was going to get four hours of free time every day, I went and had another baby to ruin my “me time.” In reality I was sad about giving up my days with Nico. I loved spending time with him and I had fun creating a full life for my young son. He had been at my side every day for the last five years and I would miss him. I also wasn’t sure he was ready for school. Academically he was well above where he needed to be to start kindergarten, but socially, it was a different story. We struggled with hitting and pushing, impulse control, a little bit of cluelessness and wild emotions, but he seemed to be growing out of those challenging behaviors-- almost. He would be just five years old and the thought occurred to me that maybe we should wait. However, with him being such an energetic, enthusiastic learner and already ahead of the academic curve, I didn’t see the benefit of waiting.
What a mix of emotions it was for me on the first morning of kindergarten. I was proud, sad, excited, relieved and lonely. Through my teary eyes I watched the pure joy on Nico’s face as he ran around with the other kids on the playground before the bell rang. I just knew that everything would be okay and he would love school.
On the second day of kindergarten I was met with whining disappointment when I whispered in Nico’s ear that it was time to wake up for school. This certainly wasn’t the reaction I expected but I figured he was just tired and it would be fine. Coming from a family of teachers and being a good student myself, I pretty much expected school to be wonderful for Nico. Unfortunately, and I hated to admit it, school wasn’t the wonderfully warm, caring, enriching environment that I hoped for.
Nico was having a hard time sitting and waiting quietly in class, a hard time standing in line, and a hard time on the playground. Moving boxes, stacking chairs or running laps would refresh him and he’d be ready to concentrate again. I suggested to the teacher that giving him gross motor jobs to do during his down time would greatly improve his mood and concentration.
“That wouldn’t be fair to the other kids,” the teacher said. “I shouldn’t have to give him special things to do to make him behave like the other kids do already on their own.”
I volunteered to be room mother and help in the classroom, but no matter what I tried, Nico’s quality of life took a turn for the worse. Our focus became about how we could make him fit the system and we were losing the joy of his individuality. There seemed to be no talk of how the system could help him. What could the teacher do to help guide Nico through these difficult stages? Apparently nothing. There isn’t room in a public school teacher’s day to focus on an individual student’s needs.
Nico missed two days of school to be home with me when the new baby was born and I was happy to share those precious hours with him. Calista, our darling girl, lived in her sling, nursing and sleeping and we hardly noticed anything was different except that I now had a permanent seven pound lump strapped to me during the day and we had a new warm body in our bed at night.
After just a few short weeks, it was as if Calista had always been there. However, the addition of a baby was difficult for the school. I wasn’t allowed to work in the classroom, chaperone field trips or even make copies in the school office if Calista was with me. She was weeks old, never came out of her sling, never even made a noise, and they were making me choose between my children. Do I chaperone Nico’s trip to the pumpkin patch and leave my six-week-old baby with a sitter? Exclusive breastfeeding and no bottles ruled out that arrangement! But I didn’t want to miss Nico’s important events either and I especially didn’t want him to feel I was missing his life because of the new baby.
Things got more stressful as Nico’s complaints about school escalated. He was still getting into trouble because there wasn’t enough time in the class schedule to move his body around. Situations on the playground were not supervised with loving guidance. The teacher was so quick to punish instead of talk with the five- and six-year-olds who were having trouble communicating with one another. Nico was afraid of the playground teacher and cried about his trouble getting along with the other boys. When I picked Nico up from school each day, his behavior was summed up by a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down by the teacher from across the crowded walkway. On the thumbs-up days we left with a smile. On the thumbs-down days, the teacher would take the time to relate to me all the ways he misbehaved. It baffled me how she failed to see his interest in reading, his love of animals and art and his true, sweet, desire to be friends with the other kids. School was causing problems at home that we needed to “deal with” which never would have been problems had the kids had guidance on the playground. Going to school should not be stressful for a five year old. If he started school this way, how would the rest of his school life be? Would he be labeled “the trouble maker” by his teachers and have this label follow him from year to year? How could anyone love life and be free to grow with that label following them around?
I was frustrated, sad, stressed out and angry-- so was Nico. But the last straw came the day I got a call that Nico had been sent to the principal’s office for swinging his lunchbox and accidentally hitting a boy with it. The principal?? Who sends a five-year-old to the principal’s office? Nico didn’t even know what a principal was! I was furious– upset that I was still dealing with this developmental stage – but mostly furious that there was no understanding from anyone at the school. They wanted Nico to start seeing a counselor once a week.
This was no way for a five year old to live and not what I wanted our family life to be. So after much discussion, reading, weighing options, reading more, and gathering opinions and advice from family and friends, we made a drastic decision. We decided that Nico would benefit more from being home with me instead of in any school environment, at least until he was more mature. We were going to become homeschoolers! It was a relief to tell the teacher that Nico would not be attending the counseling sessions and he would not be attending her class anymore.
People looked at me like I was crazy when word got around that we were pulling Nico out of school. People doubted that I would be able to teach him as well as a credentialed teacher. They just shook their heads as I assured them that I could handle it. Slightly offended, I realized that there was no use explaining to them that my goal was not to be like the school at all, but better. That life and learning with guidance from a loving parent is no comparison to sinking in a system that isn’t set up for anyone who doesn’t fit the mold. And most importantly, I could now directly help Nico form lasting friendships instead of punishing him when he struggled with how to relate to people.
I also figured that what ever we decided now didn’t have to be the decision for the rest of our lives and if and when we needed to make another change we would. What was most important was that we got our happy life back.
And WOW! What a breath of fresh air homeschooling is! It has been four years and we have not looked back after making the decision to learn at home. The social aspects of homeschooling within an active community are stunning. The flexibility homeschooling provides is awesome and most importantly, my kids are well-adjusted, loving life, loving learning, and spend their time with the people that love them most. I can’t say that every day is perfect or stress-free but it is nice to know that whatever comes up, we have the freedom to deal with it as a family and with the loving guidance that every child deserves.
Paige Loter likes to consider herself a jack of all trades. With a passion for anything creative, crafty, theatrical, or educational, she has worn many hats at different points in her life: graphic designer, toy designer, theatrical director and costume designer, baton twirler, teacher and the endeavor she is most proud of: mommy and wife. She lives with her husband, Steve; her son, Nico, 9; and daughter Calista, 4, in Thousand Oaks, CA.