We started homeschooling this week. O.K., everyone who knows me pick your jaws up off the floor. I don’t plan on homeschooling my son for the next 15 years. I’m just doing pre-school home-school, because quite honestly the only way we could afford to send him to pre-school is if I went back to work. That would sort of undo this whole SAHM thing I’ve been doing for the last three years.
Now you committed home-schoolers out there, don’t misunderstand me. I have nothing against homeschooling. It’s just not for me. I utterly lack the patience years of homeschooling would require. And frankly, selfish as it may sound, I look forward to the day I can load my son on the bus and take an uninterrupted shower and my freshly mopped floor will actually dry before little feet pad across it.
We did all kinds of activities this week. My son’s favorite craft was the pig we made out of a pop bottle. Martha Stewart and her quarterly magazine Good Things for Kids was the inspiration behind it. My son bestowed the simple name pig upon him. Pig has been a constant companion these last few days. Except for Wednesday night when my son had what I call a “boy” moment and decided to tear pig apart. Then he cried because he missed pig. Unlike Humpty-Dumpty, we were able to put pig back together again the next day.
Pig sleeps on the bookshelf beside his my son’s bed. Pig rode with us in the car yesterday evening to run errands. Pig watched TV with us and joined us for school this morning. Pig played Ring Around the Rosy with us this afternoon. Pig joined us for dinner tonight. My son craddles pig in his arms, and pets pig saying, “He’s a nice pig.” This is big stuff for a vessel that had humble beginnings as a Mt. Dew bottle. (It has crossed my mind BTW that I will not be getting my 10 cents back for that bottle.)
So at the end of home-school pre-school week 1 my son learned a couple new songs, started using safety scissors, is beginning to understand how to read a face clock and made friends with a paper and plastic pig tacked together with tape and glue sticks.
Just as I finished this post my son had another “boy” moment, and used Pig as a hockey puck. Pig looks like any of us would if we’d been pummeled by a toy hockey stick. My son’s not crying this time. Guess that’s the end of Pig. Good thing he’s immortalized forever on my blog.