We had to switch schools this year.
#1daughter is attending college in a short 10 days. And in case you weren’t aware….college is expensive. Damn expensive. I sure don’t remember having a college book bill totaling over $500.
And my husband is self-employed. Oh, yeah. And the economy sucks.
So, the boys had to leave the perfectly lovely, wonderful, can’t-say-enough-good-things-about Montessori School they’ve been attending for the past 4 years. We adored that school. But in March, we (and by we I mean “I” because my husband hates to be the bad guy) had to start looking at our “free” options. As in, those evil public schools. (And by evil, I don’t really mean evil but it seems whenever you tell someone you’re paying for your child’s education – on top of the taxes you already pay – it must mean that you think public schools are bad. Which I don’t. But that’s for another post.)
And when you tell your friends that you’re considering other options, everyone wants you to choose their option. The charter school, homeschool, the school down the street. We (and by we, remember we’re talking “I” here) weighed our options. And the school down the street (not really down the street but closer than the last school but far enough for the boys to ride the coveted school bus) was the fit that I (oops, I mean we) thought was the best fit for our children.
Let me tell you. I agonized over this decision. It kept me up nights. I listed the pros and the cons. I consulted friends and professionals. I visited and visited, again and again. I read articles online and compared test scores.
It was brutal.
But I finally came to a decision I prayed was the right one.
And even though I was pretty sure it was the right one, I still worried. It’s so different from Montessori. And so much bigger. 800 students in all! What if #1son gets lost in the crowd? What if #2son gets bored and starts acting out?
The first day arrived. #1son – who thinks he is too big for hugs and kisses goodbye, who marched around like a drill sargent that morning making sure everyone had their shoes on, teeth brushed and lunch boxes in hand – when it came time to hug me goodbye, clutched me around my middle and wouldn’t let go. I practically had to peel him off me. I could feel his apprehension. He didn’t have to say a word. (And he didn’t.)
I worried all day long. Every half hour passed and I wondered: “Did they make any new friends?”, “Were the kids mean on the playground?”, “What if they can’t sit still that long?” and “Will they get lost in the lunchroom?”
This is what greeted me after ambling off the bus:
Nope. No worries, mom!
What a relief.