Conference

Our first conference for Caroline - our first litmus test of how homeschool had prepared her for the junior high experience.......drumroll please.........

They felt she is doing well socially, has come to the school well prepared, and brings a fresh energy and perspective. So in short, so far so good.

As for "Areas to work on" every teacher mentioned organization, which comes at no surprise. The teacher's were very kind to say that this probably had to do with a lack of experience in that area, and expected it to improve with time, but I am afraid it is more likely a personal tendency she unfortunately inherited from her scattered mother. As I look around the living room right now I see a pile of her piano books on the floor, a cheese stick wrapper next to my computer from the snack she must have eaten last night while checking email and a sweatshirt wadded up on the floor. 

They totally have her figured out. Amazing.

Next week - The difficult skill of learning how to be "friendly but not friends."

It's a Pretty World Today

We all know junior high can be the most twisted, cruel and irrational social experience in American culture. One mother I know said of her daughter's middle school experience, "If I could give her a lobotomy and remove the past two years from her memory, I would." Her daughter was a girl who seemed to have it all; pretty, bright, outgoing and incredibly well put together for a young teen. 

I remember the completely consuming self consciousness, the mood swings and the extreme sensitivity that the age brought. I still look at pictures of me at that age, with braces, zits, a bad hair cut and black eyeliner, and cringe. To think of my baby girl entering this phase is...well....terrifying.

Caroline is showing signs; the question of "What should I wear tomorrow?" has become a project, not a question of what's clean and suitable for the weather, and we've begun debates about what is appropriate for make-up (the non-negotiable answer; a clean face and a swipe of lip gloss). 

So when she broke out in a horrible, mysterious case of hives all over her face, I thought all hell would break loose. When she itched them until they scabbed and she looked more like a tiny meth addict than a sixth grader, I thought she would bury her head under her covers and refuse to come out until they had healed.

But she didn't. She put on her cute, carefully chosen outfit, swiped her lips with strawberry pie flavored gloss, held her head high and did her thing. It was more than I can admit I would do under similar circumstances (While we were in Curacao, I bought a tube of Retin-A without a prescription, yielding similar results - I hibernated for days). 

To top it off, the peak of the scabby rash just happened to occur on picture day. PICTURE DAY! Do you remember the angst of picture day in junior high? Granted, they now have a "retouching" option to photoshop out any unfortunate, untimely blemishes, but this is not an option when your entire face is festering.

I wondered what the other kids would say. Would they be afraid to sit next to her or touch her? Would they make fun, or come up with some sick nickname that would hold for years?

But.......

......no one said a word. She left with a smile on her face, and came home still smiling.

It gave me hope for the future, and in case I ever need reminding of this,  have a selection of 8 x 10's, 5 x 7's and wallets to jolt my memory.