Cyber School

Today is my daughter’s first day at her performing arts school. I am so excited for her. Even the air at the school has the quality of enrichment. I can’t wait for the long drive home to hear of her exploits.

Energetically speaking, the last two weeks have been scattered. Maren’s play run ended over the weekend. Good timing. I won’t be lurking in the back lots of the theater at 10:30 at night any more. For some that may be an early night, but I wake each morning at 5, so it seemed strange for me to be conscious, much less out and about. My son started his school before the Labor Day holiday. Luckily for both of us, he is in the third year of Middle School. So as we experience novelty with his sister’s education, his is stable and a repetition of years past. To supplement the performing arts school, my daughter has been doing cyber school. After today she’ll be on a schedule of three days a week online and two days a week at the physical school (an hour from our house). Though she has teachers, I have been given the title and responsibility of home facilitator. I am thinking of having that title printed on my business cards and given its own paragraph on my resume now that I see the effort it requires.

I realize that it will take us some time to learn to navigate the system to a point where we are fluid and Maren is more independent. I am used to having my days to accomplish my own agenda. In my mind, there was this pleasant little scene. Maren would be doing her school work at the efficient work station we set up for her in the dining room. I would be nearby on my laptop, floating over to her like a fairy godmother when needed. Somehow, I blocked out the way we typically interact with each other when frustration runs high.

Day one: the sites were bogged down by keen new students. While we waited for page after page to reload, Maren was rolling on the floor with the dog.
Day two: I banned her from going to her room between or during lessons.
Mom, I’m stuck.
Don’t mention the fact that I am flowing with my work only to have it interrupted time and time again. Maren’s teacher called to check on her progress since she hasn’t seen any work in math or science. Whoops. We thought we had submitted it. I am pretty savvy on the computer—or so I thought. We are learning together. The great joy has been to listen to the French lectures together and then to roam the house speaking in tongues: English, French and Franglais.
Comment ca va?
Ca va, et toi?
Pas mal.
This is all sure to be an adventure.