Every once in awhile I like to post an update on what my life is like in its current state. I don’t want this blog to become some mindless book advertisement hub and lose it’s intimacy. Don’t get me wrong, I love books and I love helping authors get attention for their books but I am not some faceless company and I don’t want you to see me that way.
Right now, Mason is 3 1/2. Just seeing that typed out brings a shock to my system. It’s flown by. Last night as he was laying beside me, with his arm across my stomach, all I could think was how big his arm is now.
I’ve been doing some pre-school work with him at home and I have a new found appreciation for teachers. I’ve always admired their work but there’s nothing like doing it yourself to realize how much really goes into it.
We live in Oklahoma. I’m sure most of you have seen the absolute disaster our school systems have fallen into. Between Mason and my 16 month old Fianna, I don’t see how I can put them in the public school system here. It was bad when I went and I don’t want that for them.
This is the reality of being a parent in this day and age. I have this ball of worry regarding being his educator. I know I can do it with the help of my husband and a tutor here and there but I’m angry that it’s not really my choice to do so. There are only two secular private schools within 50 miles of us and both are completely un-affordable or have insane wait lists. I’ve dove into textbooks and spent every extra dollar I have on workshops and learning material. I’m doing the best I can.
It’s going pretty well. All things considered he is learning and having fun while doing it. I’m able to tailor my approach to what works and what doesn’t without some faceless politician deciding what’s best.
You see, Mason is like me. I fear he has ADHD. He’s very young and I’m trying to wait it out a bit before I let that fear really take root but I know he does. I see so many of my struggles in him already. I see so much of myself in him. My husband does his best to reassure me that even if he does have it, he’ll be ok. After-all, I’m ok.
Here’s the thing though. I did not do well in school because no one cared enough to help me with it. I was outed as a trouble maker and a nuisance. I was called a flake and unreliable. I don’t want that for him. I don’t want people to see him as feather brained.
Worry is a parents constant companion.