School - You mean JAIL!

"This isn't working!" I said with a hint of hysteria.  "You need to go back to public school."

"You mean jail." He replied without skipping a beat in the annoyed tone of a 16 year old.

For my boy, who's like a space cadet most of the time, this was a very definite, clearly opinionated and thought out comparison.  It shook me.  He doesn't usually say thoughtful things.  He usually just talks about video games and cartoons.

And how did he find kindergarten to be like jail?  That's pretty rough.

Then when we try to do homeschooling lessons at home he says, "Ugh.  Why do you make me into a slave!"

This is even activities that I would think would be fun, like lego inspired work.

Some people are just not meant to be teachers, and I am one of them.  I am failing miserably.  It's not that I'm a perfectionist, which is the usual reason why parents fail as teachers.  I'm struggling so much with different approaches, trying to find a rhythm that satisfies us both.  But everything I try doesn't work, and I give up, and then I freak out and do nothing, and then that doesn't work either.

I tried teaching with work books and reading materials from different curriculums.  He just boroughs his head, flops on the floor, or stares into space.  I tried visual math games, and different reading programs that were working for him at public school, he whines and begs not to do it saying, "I hate math, this is too hard!"  It takes consent redirecting and threatening to get through a workbook page that he can do, easily.  Then I contemplate, is this stupid page really worth the fight when he obviously gets the concepts?

I've tried taking a break from all the pressure, and just letting him roll with his interests all day.  He watches you tube all-day-long.  I can't handle it, seeing him waste a day glued to the ipad, never turning it off, eating food in front of it, eyes never leaving.  I ask him to turn it off and take a break, he wont, then we fight and I have to take it away.  I feel the pang in my gut, feeling guilty for being a dictator.

Last week actually went the best.  I told him that we wouldn't have any screen time before lunch - a compromise.  I stuck to the rule myself too, which was really hard for me!  During that time, I dedicated 45 minutes or more to just sitting with him and playing in whatever he was doing.  We didn't fight, we got out of the house for more activities that week, and screen time was cut in half.

But I still felt like I needed more.  Like there is so much more to the world than just sitting on the floor and playing with legos, and I need to be feeding him this information.  But it's such a specific blend of more that he needs.  And I need a PhD in Child Psychology to figure out how to cook it up.

I've had many people ask me what we do for homeschool since I'm not teaching reading.   I have this really cool response that always stops their criticism dead in its tracks, "We're emphasizing a science and engineering focus, hands on and experiential learning.  So we do building, robotics, chemistry, electricity, physics.  Things like that."  These people know he wouldn't be getting that in public school except a couple hours a week.

Ice Globe

But, I feel in my heart that its partial BS.  Sure I can come up with tons of ways that we do physics (play bad piggies, shot sling shots and bow and arrows, watch movies about space and the planets)  But I don't have anything to show for our days homeschooling.  No proof to demonstrate he understands the things we talk about.  And then I fight with myself internally over whether that matters or not.

Mari thinks I should just put him back in school and quit it with the drama.  He's fully supportive of homeschooling but wants to protect me from getting so depressed and frustrated.  The thing is I know that homeschooling is better for Kaio, but I think I'm failing him by not knowing how to help him through the areas he struggles.  At least in school, the special ed teachers were really good at that.  He always kept up to grade level.  Since we started homeschooling he's fallen behind on every measure - from academic to social to confidence to level of general happiness.

Even though he was 'learning' in the traditional sense, he hated it.  He thinks it's jail.  What kind of parent would I be to send my kid to jail?  I don't want to do that.

But I gave him an ultimatum.  If this week is leaves me with that bad feeling pit in my stomach then he needs to go back to school.  I think it is better than getting yelled at by me throughout the day.  I know that if I do send him back then we'll still be fighting before and after school.  I don't really want to send him back, and I'm going to try to find ways to get the evidence of progress I need to feel comfortable, without having it take so much haggling and threatening.

Europe Diary - Prague and the Czech Countryside

It's the acid drum and base beats rocking in the middle of the crowded main drag, right next to the New Town Hall and Christmas market, as if that makes total sense.  Then you follow the sound and find street musicians, with ddidgeridoos, and the smell of a joint burning from somewhere nearby.  Seems like it goes hand and hand with the music.  Freezing winter night, drops of light rain, thai massage parlors, cobblestone, acid drum and base, burning pot, delicious cuisine, boiled spiced wine.  It's just cool, colorful and funky.  Exactly the kind of place I belong.

Potato pancakes and who knows...

Our hotel was cool and funky too, although it smelled like mildew and the TV didn't work.  But that's ok, we didn't go to Prague to watch TV.

We went to walk around, and spend money.  Lots of money.  How did we spend so much money just walking around?  I don't know.  Must be the damn currency conversion.

It becomes clear the city's not afraid to create and recreate it's own identity. Modern Prague is really like a melting pot of historic structures: Bohemian, Roman, Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, Art Novo, Cubist.  Sometimes one style overlaid atop another, like a painting hidden beneath the new overcoat.  It's not unusual to find buildings in the old town with Gothic interiors, Baroque exteriors, and Roman basements.

Among the playground of art history, a generation of awake Czech flourish with paintbrushes in their hands and freedom in their hearts.

As you drive into the city, you pass a series of large new buildings, a huge shopping mall, and more new eco-buildings with living plant walls and large glass windows.  Each baring the sign of some international tech mogul: IBM, Apple, Google, HP, etc.  They are like billboards announcing the new Prague, ready to dance in the free world.

We only had 24hours in Prague, not enough time to make even a small dent in the city.  But we did leave our mark.

At one of the bridges in Kampa Island, we left a padlock.  Mari scratched our initials in with a key.  Then we held the keys in our hands and together dropped them in the water.  I felt really nervous doing this.  It means that if we ever want to unlock it, we're going to have to scuba dive down and fish them out.

These statues move.  Their butts and torsos windshield wipe at different speeds.  That's the Kafka museum.

Then there's the drive through the Czech countryside, which turned out to be as good as Prague itself.  I found a pink church, and Mari found a communist era car.

This old building is in the process of being renovated as an eco friendly wine gallery, featuring local wine vendors from the region. 

It was really cold outside.

Even though it was so overcast, cold, and some buildings loosing their cement, you could taste an aura of transformation in the air.  Nothing depressing about the countryside, just beautiful and enduring.

Do You Feel Like a Parent?

A friend told me that she started feeling like a parent when her and her husband took their daughter to the pediatrician for the first time.  For me, it's the night before Christmas.  As Mari and I tiptoe around the creaking floors, holding freshly wrapped presents and quietly placing them under the tree, that's when it really hits me.  Then, the rest of the year I mostly feel like a kid still.

This year the kids wanted to camp out by the tree to try to catch a glimpse of Santa.  As I tucked them in (Mari was working late that night), they told me about how Santa would take them back to the North Pole to see his workshop.  I said, "No, don't go with Santa, I'll miss you too much."
"But, we'll come back!" They assured me.

Usually the living room's illuminated brightly and full of activity.  But in prepping for bed we turned out the main lights.  Only multicolored Christmas lights twinkled magically and the space felt still, Beegie Adair played in the background.  Seeing the kids wrapped in cotton and fleece blankets, I felt it was true; I would miss them too much if they went with Santa to the North Pole.  I didn't want them to go.

We didn't exactly plan to be parents.  I mean, I understand how it works and so I knew it was possible.  It didn't come as a complete surprise.  But we never sat down together and looked at our financials, had a conversation, and then started 'trying.'   I'm super impressed (and a little weirded out) by the parents who have college accounts opened when their kids are in the womb.

No, Mari and I were living in a 6'x6' bedroom in a shared 2 bed/1.5bath apartment in Mount Pleasant, DC, making $11 an hour washing towels for a cleaning company.  My bestfriend roommate was more than a little relieved when I told her we were expecting because it meant we wouldn't be making so much noise partying late at night anymore.  In six months or so we moved out completely and into my mom's house, which was closer to both our Virginia jobs at the time.  Living in DC just didn't seem so glamorous (is it ever?) with an hour commute and baby on the way.

So when Kaio was born we were just living in the suburbs - in a little bedroom, next to my mom and above my grandfather.  Four generations all in one 2500 square ft house.  Mari finally had a white collar job and so did I.  We saved all our money up to pay for a trip to Brazil while I was on Maternity leave.  We also decided to have a real wedding ceremony down there (since before we had only signed the marriage certificate at the courthouse).  Mari's real job was a temp position, helping move international telecom jobs to Poland.  We knew it was ending and so it seemed like the perfect time for a long trip to Brazil.   While we were down there my contract abruptly and surprisingly ended - on maternity leave.  So, really, neither of us had a job or health insurance for the first few months after Kaio was born!  It seemed almost futile to return to The States.  But we did anyway.

I didn't really know what I was doing as a mom.  I picked up a parenting book at my midwife's office.  It suggested letting the baby cry it out as a solution to getting a good night sleep.  I told Mari about it and we decided to try.  Kaio had originally sleep in bed with us the first month, but when we returned from Brazil my friend had given us her crib that her father built for her as a baby.  The railing wasn't FSA approved but -whatever.  We put Kaio to sleep in the bed and let him cry it out.  That damn book had convinced me this was a good idea.  I was so naive to trust this book just because it was in the midwife's office.

In the middle of the night I heard some noise from his bedroom and decided to check in.  I could hear Tata inside.  He must have walked upstairs following the crying.  I open the door and there is Tata, sitting in a desk chair by the crib, holding baby Kaio like an angel in his arms saying, "Nu Plange Mikey."  (don't cry Mikey).  Little Kaio stared up at him with serenity, completely calm and transfixed on Tata's gaze.

I can't believe this 90yr old 90lb man with dementia could lean over and pick up the plump breast fed 20lb baby out of the crib.  He called him Mikey, because he thought he was my brother as a baby.  If my brother was in the same room, he'd still call Kaio 'Mikey.'

Mikey and Mikey

Although the moment was heart warming, it scared Mari.  He didn't want to worry about Tata dropping or moving Kaio in the middle of the night.  We decided to get our own place.

I wish I hadn't looked for a job and gone to work.  I wish I had stayed home with Kaio.  We didn't really need that health insurance, although at the time it was my main driver for finding employment.  Mari landed another temp position, and then we bought a house, and the temp position ended.  So only I was employed when we signed the title papers for our new house!

But things always worked out for us.  He found a job within a month.  The next job was a temp to hire position, and he's been well off ever since.

It's not that I totally regret going back to work.  It did serve a purpose.  We wouldn't have been able to buy a house, we wouldn't have been able to accrue the savings I used to pay for yoga teacher training and am using to pay for acupuncture school now.  So It's good in that respect.  But I don't think it was the best choice for the kids.  I wish I could have been around for them more, and been more in tune with Kaio's needs as a toddler specifically.

Yes, we moved back into my mom's house.  After Tata passed away she started renting out her basement.  But she was having issue after issue with her tenants.  We were looking at ways to save money after Nala was born as we had a second daycare expense and second car expense.  It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, and I don't think we considered it a permanent solution, but it has become one.  She's a huge help and the kids love her.   I love that the kids wake up some mornings and go cuddle with her in bed.  I love an inter-generational house and us being around to help each other out.

I'd love it if you'd share.  When was the point you started feeling like an adult/parent?