Waving at School Busses

I move through out our house, tidying, switching out loads of laundry from the wetter (as Jack calls it) to the dryer, loading and unloading the dishwasher, making lists in my head.  All the while I listen to the kids giggling at each other, playing sweetly mixed with moments of bickering and resolution. I am really nervous on the inside that our decision to home school is going to cost them somehow. I still don't fully understand all of the benefits - I have just started to meet these awesome parents and kids that have been on this road for a bit. And they all tell me that by Christmas, we won't look back. 

But, I see school buses rolling past our house to drop off at the school at the end of our street and the little voice in my head says, "Are you sure?"  I think I am.  I worry, though. Will I be enough to push them ahead?

And, then there are the friends I have and family...Some are supportive and some have already withdrawn seeing this as a major difference in our thinking.  I hope I can make it clear that I don't think bad of anyone for which ever way they choose to raise their kids, and have them educated.  Just educate them, that's all.  And, I don't doubt their love, either. But there are reasons that I would worry also, if we had chosen to stay in the school system.  You know, the first day of classes, a kid brought a gun to school in a little Missouri town. And, Friday, the school at the end of our street and the elementary school a block over went on lock down due to a kidnapper lurking. We were at Legoland, or I suppose we would have been on lock down, too. What to do....

Every so often I have this specific memory of sweet Greta as a four year old wanting to grow up too fast.  She wanted to go into Justice (a kid/tween sparkly clothing store) and she wanted to pick out an outfit and try it on all by herself in the dressing room (which is behind a sparkly curtain).  Dad and I stood by and let her.  Her big blue eyes carefully picked through the racks of clothes until she picked out an orange bejeweled tank top and rainbow shorts that would fit in a few years.  She waited in line to try it on and once it was her turn she went on in. We could see her feet underneath the curtain. Well, it took her a while. She must've stared in the mirror for ten minutes. She was so so proud of herself, I mean, so so proud. She was a big girl. And, then it was time to change back. She pulled the curtain closed and her feet disappeared as she stepped onto a big sparkly pouf to reach a hanger. And then the pouf went out from under her and she fell on her little tiny bottom with her feet straight out, scared to death and a little hurt. Her pride hurt. My heart hurt. She didn't want to cry and I could hear her whimpering in there on her little bottom. 

Maybe this is what I am thinking of when I choose to home school. I know the world can hurt, and I know she and Jack are capable of dealing with it. I just want to hold her a little longer... because I can.