I love the beginning of a new school year. Crisp paper, fresh school supplies, sharp pencils, eager minds.
After our 5-week break from homeschooling, we were all starting to crave more routine in our lives. So on Monday of last week, we cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast and wandered up to the schoolroom at 8:30 sharp. Kaylin had spent Sunday resting and recovering from her raging fever Saturday night. She still wasn't 100%, but she was well enough to join us.
I thought back to the first day of school in a traditional classroom. The teacher spends the whole first week acclimating to her new students and helping them get to know each other. They don't dive right into grammar or math facts, but instead everyone eases back in with "fun" types of learning. As much as I wanted to pick right back up where we left off in May, I restrained myself and took a different approach.
I welcomed the kids into the schoolroom individually, opening the door one at a time and asking, "Who's ready to start 4th grade...???" on down through Kaylin for 2nd and Jason for pre-school. Jason loved it so much, he asked if I can do it every day? I agreed to repeat this simple greeting every Monday morning until they're sick of it.
I began the day by reviewing our school rules and going over some goals for each of us. I explained our new curriculum and how our schedule will change a bit. Then we got into a short Bible lesson.
Getting through this brief introduction was torturous. Everyone was interrupting, everyone had an opinion, everyone was asking to add this or change that...I had absolutely no control of my tiny class.
The rest of the day? It was a joke. At 11:30am, I texted my best friend: "Today is the epitome of why people say they could never homeschool." All three kids had been in sobbing tears at different points of the morning, I was stressed beyond belief, no one was cooperating with each other (or me)...it was a disaster.
Tuesday, I vowed, would be a better day. I was prepared for the worst and hoping for the best. It didn't take long for me to realize that Jason was acting funny. Not funny haha, funny...calm. Turned out he had a raging fever. I felt a little better knowing that on Monday, he was "off" because he was getting sick and Kaylin was off because she was getting over it. Maybe I'm not such a failure after all?
I plopped Jason in a bean bag chair with his best friend Cocoa and set out to continue educating the big kids. As the day wore on, I noticed my throat itching and my nose feeling stuffy. I popped some Ziacam and trudged on.
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| (this is not Cocoa's best angle) |
Wednesday I woke up officially feeling sluggish and horribly congested. No fever, just a messed up nose, which is difficult to bear when you only have one free hand to use a tissue. I pulled out Mary Poppins and told the kids that while watching the movie, they were learning about music (which totally coincides with our lesson on the ear and paying attention) while I passed out on the couch. It still counts as "school" when the teacher falls asleep, right?
That night, Ryan complained of an upset stomach and hung out around the toilet, convinced he was going to be sick. Our family was falling apart...one person at a time!
By Thursday morning, everyone was better. No fevers, no nausea, my nose was even clearing up. We went to our weekly summer movie, then finished the school day strong. It seemed that things were falling back into place.
Until 2am, which was technically Friday morning. I woke up with severe stomach cramps, convinced I was hungry because I hadn't eaten much for dinner. After some almonds and a half a banana, I still couldn't fall back to sleep. I spent the next hour running back and forth to the bathroom, begging God to help me throw up because I was convinced I would feel better. Finally, for the first time in my life, I stuck my finger down my throat, as far as possible, and made myself vomit. I felt a little better, but was still in too much pain to sleep.
I finally nodded off around 5:30am...just in time for Mike to get up and go to the gym. As he rolled over to turn off his alarm, I grabbed his arm and asked him to call in sick to work so he could take care of me and the kids. He's never had to do that before, but thankfully, he was easily convinced.
My sweet husband then spent the next 10 hours being...me. Well, the old, two-handed version of me. He cooked, he cleaned, he served me meals in bed, he even followed my lesson plan and homeschooled the kids. I think he surprised us both! By 3:00, I was finally feeling better.
So here we are on Monday and I am completely unmotivated to be productive. Which is a shame, because we have several social things on the calendar this week that require us to stay on task during our at-some school hours.
Here's hoping that everyone stays well for more than 24 hours! And that maybe I'll be more motivated to homeschool after lunch...?
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