When we made the decision to stop homeschooling and send them to public school, I was elated. A little nervous yes, but it felt right. Peace descended on me, and so I knew this had to be God's will. Homeschooling no longer cultivated that same feeling in my soul, and so I saw that to continue to do so was not His will, no matter how Domestic-Church-y my motivations may have been.
I have a lot of fears, and I know the move to a traditional school will not be a panacea. I worry that Anna's uncertainty might come across as "slow" or "inattentive" to her teachers. She is so scared of making a mistake or doing the "wrong thing," and that fear slows her down. I fear that she is way behind her classmates in math; family health problems, the birth of my son, and John Paul's increasing therapeutic work for low tone and vision cut into my instruction time with her, and that subject may be what suffered the most. It is certainly why I said, "Enough" with regard to our homeschooling. I am afraid that John Paul's weak handwriting will cause others to judge him as slow-minded or sloppy. I fear that his unusual gait, unique viewpoints, eagerness and effusiveness in talking, will cause him to stand out as "different" in that way that kids and culture tells us is "bad." I worry he will be bullied, unfairly reprimanded, made to internalize a poor view of himself.
This morning was not perfect, either; the kids didn't like breakfast because we'd run out of maple syrup, and so didn't finish their waffles or their sausage. And then...
Then my son had a full-voiced, teary melt-down over his shorts, which I'd bought at Target, about which he bellowed, "MOMMY I WON'T WEAR THESE! THEY ARE NOT COMFORTABLE! NO! THEY HURT AND ANNOY ME LIKE THOSE LANDS END PANTS!" (Yes, we bought and had to return, pants from Land's End because he didn't like the fabric or the pockets.)
I wish I could say we handled this smoothly, but we didn't. He talked disrespectfully, and we reacted. I was the first to have my fuse lit, because I have been so diligent in trying to work with him on this newly-emerged issue of clothing and comfort, and I was over-tired and exasperated and desperate to get everyone out to school without a hitch. I threatened to keep him home, withdraw him from school, and go back to homeschooling him if he didn't wear what I'd bought and like it! My husband was right there with me. Pretty terrible, eh?
Recall my fear that at school he'd be "bullied, unfairly reprimanded, made to internalize a poor view of himself," and savor the irony.
This rant on my part was anxiety-driven. My soul was a tumultuous mess of un-peace, so I knew in the moment that we were not handling the issue right. Therapy has taught me to be aware of my emotions, and Dr. Popcack advises parents never to discipline when one is at a 6.5 on a 10- point scale. I was past the 6.5, so I walked away, breathed,and prayed myself down.
Immediately, I saw how my/our reaction was a parenting fail in at least three ways: my words were threatening, they were impossible to follow through with, and they were not disciplining the behavior but punishing the behavior. I was not helpful in working towards a solution, either. I consulted with my husband about what I discerned and then returned to our son to say, "Because it is the first day of school, I want you to be comfortable and not stressed; you may wear a pair of athletic shorts. Your father is correct that you need to learn to wear non-athletic looking pants again. We will work on that, so when you get home tonight, you will practice wearing the shorts I bought at Target. Can you agree to this?"
Our son agreed to this compromise. His mood improved, and I breathed a sigh of some relief... although I feared what the next upheaval might be. Would he ever act this way in school?
I don't know if this is a sensory issue; he used to love wearing Dockers to church, and oxford shirts with clip-on ties. This new sensitivity around clothes began last April; my attention to it seems to make things worse, not better, so my husband suspects it is a control issue. Does one discipline through a control issue? Can sensory issues present themselves later in childhood? How can I get him out the door anywhere on time and presentably?
Still, despite the fear and uncertainty, there is peace in my soul as I sit in a quiet house, having unleashed my brood on the world. My/our anxieties are temporary, emotions that will spend themselves out and pass away. My children will get to school and something new will happen. This new life will be challenging, but they will meet those challenges and they will adapt. They will learn. They will grow.
And by the grace of God, so will I.