I've been a little disenchanted with the kids' school of late. And I'm having a very difficult time admitting that I may have made a mistake. But they're obviously bored and truly not getting anything really beneficial from it, and so I'm stuck in the very rough spot of having to decide if it's worth trying frantically to get them into something by Fall or just find a way for us all to suck it up for a year when they move into kindergarten.
But these are really their most formative years and do I really want to waste 12 months of their precious little lives just because of the inconvenience it might cause me and will I regret forever not having found just the perfect school with just the perfect teachers to help give them that perfect step up before they fall into the pit of public schooldom for potentially the next decade-and-a-half?
And then they go and do something like this, and I think, well, maybe I can hold out for another week.
This is reptile week. On Monday they learned about frogs. On Tuesday they learned about lizards. As per usual, I grill them all the way home about everything they learned that day. Last night, as they were rattling off the names of all the lizards they learned about yesterday, Chago said that his favorite was the runforit lizard.
"The what?" I said; because Mama knows everything, of course, and I'd never heard of such a thing before.
"The runforit lizard," he said again, enunciating so clearly and loudly and with just the right hint of condescension that it's like looking in a mirror.
"Run for it?" I ask.
"Yes," he says.
"RUN. FOR. IT." I repeat. "Is that right?"
"Yes, Mom," he confirms. "Teacher says it's the fastest lizard in California!"
[And even I had to admit that was a little cute - if somewhat of a deceptive method for covering up the fact that you don't know it's called a viviparous lizard -- yes, I googled it, so what? The Google is all-knowing.]