A year of homeschool kindergarten nearly killed me. Homeschooling my boys had always filled me up in ways I never knew existed. It works for them and I would never in a million years ever think of sending them back to public school. But sadly, homeschooling isn't right for Quiet Tiger and today she boarded that big yellow bus and went off to public school.
AND I HATE IT!
I HATE EVERY BIT OF IT!
This momma is one giant bag of mixed emotions today. Bear with me as I unpack this chaos that is my brain.
Today I feel sad.
My baby is going off to kindergarten. She has grown up so much and now she enters a big world out there without me. No matter how hard we struggle with each other, I'm sad to let her go.
Today I feel anxious.
What you may or may not remember is that this very week, 6 years ago, Quiet Tiger's birth family abandoned her. [And that noise you just heard was the collective sound of the crashing hearts of all those adoptive mommas out there who understand just exactly what that means.] From all I have researched and written about here, we know that trauma doesn't tell time. Quiet Tiger's brain does remember that day. And what am I doing? Here I am, abandoning her all over again... to the public school system... so very near of that dreaded 'trauma-versary.' I know she will be cared for and we have told her time and again that she will come home every afternoon, but the timing of this couldn't be worse. My heart aches that school has to start so late here in Minnesota, all thanks to our dumb State Fair.
Today I feel like a complete failure.
I worked my @$$ off last year to teach kindergarten to my daughter. And she did learn. She did! Jay would come home at the end of the night and she'd be quick and excited to rattle off all she learned for him. But she fought me. She'd insist that 1+1 does not equal 2 despite using blocks and manipulatives. She'd 'forget' how to count. She never learned to read, not even to pre-read. She seemed to 'check out' about 6-8 weeks before our 36 weeks of school was complete. It felt like I had watched her hit a physical wall. She couldn't do it anymore. And yet we pushed onward. I gave it my all and I feel like I failed her. I deal with that a lot -- feeling like I have failed her in almost every realm of her daily life. No matter how hard I try, I feel like I fail over and over again.
Today I feel angry.
Let's be completely honest here. I'm not happy with our public school system. Sure, there are great districts out there. I was part of one when I was a kid and I'm thankful for the education I was blessed with! And ours here may even be one of those great districts too. And yes, there are awesome teachers and school administrators out there. Some of my dearest friends are among those people. This is not meant to slam them at all, please know that! But I'm angry at how chaotic our school's open house was, particularly for those of us brand new to the school, it's staff and it's facility. I'm angry that the teacher gave us less than 60 seconds of her time and seemed wildly overwhelmed. I'm angry that we got sent home with a mountain of paperwork to go through, complete with papers to sign, initial and send back over a holiday weekend. I'm angry that we were handed a homework project before school even began, to be completed on a holiday weekend. I'm angry that she'll have homework through the school year. I've been a homeschool mom long enough to read the studies that homework does not increase a child's knowledge, only piles on the stress and exhaustion after an already long day [for a 6 year old]. I'm angry that we have to be tied down to a rigid school schedule, dumb school rules and basically be at the mercy of teachers and school staff. I'm angry that from this point on forward in the school year, I don't get any say about my daughter's education.
Today I feel fearful.
Do you remember what happened when we tried sending Quiet Tiger to preschool in Texas? Because of that, I'm so scared of who will be coming home off that bus this afternoon. I'm so scared that she'll be disregulated and off the wall and unable to connect with me. I'm scared that she's going to resort to all kinds of negative behaviors. I'm scared that we may have to relive that all over again and try hard to overcome.
Today I feel happy.
Wait, what? After everything I just wrote above, I feel happy? I told you I was a mixed bag of emotions. I'm happy to be getting a break from this child. I'm happy someone else gets to deal with her for 8 hours a day. I'm happy that I will get to give my boys my best when it comes to their education. And I'm happy that my boys will get a break from their sister too. I'm happy that our school social worker has already called me to discuss some of our concerns about attachment disorder. I'm happy that our principal is a relatively new adoptive dad who sees attachment disorder in his own daughter. I'm happy that our school has current, fresh experience with a child with a limb difference.
Today I feel hopeful.
With all these wild emotions, I cling to hope. I hope with all my heart that Quiet Tiger will learn this year. I hope that she'll have a leg up on her peers academically, thanks to a year of homeschool under her belt. I have hope that she'll learn to read. I have hope that she will enjoy spending time with children her own age. I hope that she will continue to grow emotionally and catch up to her peers on an emotional level. I hope that she will be able to handle the time away from mom and brothers. I have hope that maybe, just maybe, only 1 year of public school will be all she needs and that next year we can bring her home to give her the education that I strongly desire for her. I have hope that this year will be an amazing year for Quiet Tiger.
