There’s very little that’s harder for me to deal with than my child’s unhappiness. That’s not completely true, there’s lots that would be harder – but this morning, I had to ship my little girl out the door kicking and screaming to go to school and know that I will spend the rest of the day feeling guilty and worried about her. Jess seems to be thriving at school, has friends, children who come to greet her when we walk into the school yard, her teacher raves about her – so I know that she’s not going there and being victimized by horrible six year old bullies, I know that she’s not struggling academically and not measuring up. I know all of these things in my head, but in my heart, I’m scared that I’m wrong. Scared that there’s something about school – something that I can’t possibly know because I’M NOT THERE, and she’s dealing with it (whatever this phantom problem is) all by herself, and that’s why she’s crying. That’s why she left this morning with tears on her cheeks and misery in her eyes.
Although it probably had more to do with the fact that I got her ready about ten minutes before Marc was ready, so she had time to get involved in a game with her little brother, and just didn’t want to leave it. But what if that wasn’t the case? What if it’s the horrible six year old bully? What if, what if, what if?
It’s mornings like this when I really regret not homeschooling.
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