We no longer control our own schedules. In fact, Brishen will be strapped to his headphones and mic next week when we are visiting family in Colorado.
I no longer determine when homework is due, for example, he turned in a composition assignment tonight after the darkness was settling.
I no longer control how much work is assigned on a busy week when a million other things are starting nor do I have the luxury of postponing something if the timing isn't right. You might have been able to tell that last night at 11:32pm, when Jon, Brishen, and I were finally finished discussing the differences between Calvinism and, ummm, what we believe, in a manner that lets him understand his heritage while still being respectful of the online school he attends and not getting kicked out for arguing with all they say.
We no longer control what he is taught, as could be told at that same late hour, when his father and I started having doubts about letting him be subjected to such strong beliefs that do not align with our own in pretty big ways.
I no longer have time to watch cooking challenge shows or Seinfeld re-runs. I thought this "handing over of parts of his education" to super smart people was going to let me off the hook for a few things. I lived in that dream world until last night when I realized that I am the one who has to make sure he is ready for his debates (by reading everything he reads and discussing it with him in intelligent ways--don't laugh! ok, you can laugh, that's why I was sure to include Jon), to make sure his essays are up to par, to make sure he knows how to take notes from lectures, to make sure he can decode cryptic assignment instructions, to make sure he knows "Control V" will let him paste his answers onto his classroom chat box, to make sure he remembers that an assignment that is due at 11:55pm on the East Coast, is actually due two hours earlier here. Yep, they may be teaching him the meat of four subjects, but I suddenly got assigned with some life skills teaching that he just hadn't needed before. He will certainly be ready for college by the time we are done!
Our house is really quiet for 12 hours of every week! It's true. Basia is pretty animated and keeps the world fairly entertained most of the time, but I realized today how very quiet things are when Brishen isn't free to compare whatever is going on with something he read in Calvin and Hobbes or to give me minute details about what the new capital of the newest country will be in twelve years' time. It's just plain strange. Basia truly misses him, even though he is still in the same room of the same house. She misses stolen moments to play or to argue over a snack or to read the funniest passage of her latest book to her big brother. She was lonely today. (It sure was easy to get all her schoolwork done, though!)
"That sounds like the real world, to me," you might be saying. However, it is rude to be disrespecting me on my own blog. (Plus it's a little weird for you to try to talk back to me through your computer!) It may very well be more like the real world, but I will miss the beauty of what we had for so long. Did I know how beautiful it was when we had it? I think so. Did I really know I was kissing it goodbye this week. No, I guess I didn't think through it that much.
We will all get used to this new kind of educatin', but it may just take some time.
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