I like being a homeschooling Mom and being home full time since November has been great. Being able to concentrate on the three younger boys without dividing my attention between them and the job has been sanity saving.
But I also like the fact that my seventeen year old (who is nearly eighteen) goes off to high school every day. I miss him and I'm glad when he comes home every afternoon. I like to hear about his day and I'm interested in his grades and what he has to say about his friends. He's very talkative and generally open about his struggles. Sometimes when he leaves in the morning, I genuinely wish he'd chosen to stay home during high school.
However he's now been home for five days straight because of icy roads. And the school just called to say that they've given them tomorrow off too.
And may I say: Oh. Yippee.
He's a highly intelligent young man,well-liked by his teachers, on the honor roll, a talented musician, and a gifted writer. On top of all of that, he's extraordinarily good with anything related to computers from building and repairing to software to graphic design (the church and community adore him and make frequent use of his talents).
But, like a lot of talented seventeen year olds who've been told how great they are--frequently--he knows it, won't be told anything about anything, and knows all. We seem to have forgotten we were not born of light and air and our talents weren't magically acquired. We seem to have forgotten who taught us to read, write, play guitar and who walked us through our first computer repairs. And I don't mind this so much. I may have been his teacher, but he ran with it on his own, put in the hours of study and practice.
If I get corrected one more time today, I'm going to scream so loudly I'll be heard in . . . Australia . . .
To quote the sentiments of Daniel, his almost sixteen year old brother, who I think said it best, "Can we just send him somewhere for the day? Like a day camp for egomaniacs or something?" (I'm still laughing as I type this--what a word picture!)
I'm ready to experience missing him again, I think.