Now I remember why I hate housework.
Song du jour of the day: Fairytale, by Alexander Rybak, for Norway.
I’m sorry, I have so many things competing for my attention right now, I just can’t take the time to write the way I want to, and I’m miffed with myself for my last few, distinctly substandard posts. Instead, go see what great things a bunch of guys with a lot of talent and a little spare time can get up to.
Only partially homeschooling, though. I’m teaching the Sniglet English using British wourkbouks, labour flavour colour whatevour, and I’m teaching Ignatz Greek, using a Dutch textbook. That’s all. One subject per child. How hard can it be?
Pfft. Yeah, right. Nate says “homeschooling definitely teaches you how smart your kids are.” I say “homeschooling teaches you how much your kids hate you and everything you stand for.” Continue reading
This is what I wrote at the beginning of last month, after talking to the Christelijk Gymnasium’s um. Afdelingsleider. Admissions-guy. Oo, losing my English, bad sign. Anyway:
he said probably third-year, but the third-years are taking their second year of Greek already, so Ignatz should probably join the second-year class. He might be a bit ahead in some other subjects, but since he still has to learn Dutch, I personally think that’d be a good thing. So does DrBob.
We are back, have been for awhile, and I wrote a really long post full of trivial blahblah, and then deleted it because it was boring. I’m not feeling writey today.
The trip went well. I will be back with details as soon as I can figure out which ones are important.
Song du jour of the day: a song about which there is nothing to say. It’s just there. La teva decisió, by Susanne Georgi for Andorra.
Ignatz and I are flying up to Utrecht this evening. He’ll go to school on Tuesday with the son of one of DrBob’s colleagues, and then have an interview with someone from that school at 5. Another interview at another school on Wednesday morning, and then Thursday morning we have an appointment to drive around and look at houses. Thursday night we fly back home.
That’s a lot of stuff to pack into three days. I should plan longer trips. Continue reading
Ignatz and I are going to Utrecht to check out schools this coming week, and the Sniglet will stay with the grandparents. he doesn’t want to go with us, but I still feel guilty about leaving him, so I let him invite two friends to stay overnight last night. Yes, I voluntarily allowed 3 8-year-old boys to occupy my house for about 18 hours. Guilt makes me insane, apparently. Continue reading
DrBob called him and reported back to me that he is a reasonable person. I suspect this means that he is more easily cowed by a college professor than by a foreign housewife, but in any case, he listened to DrBob and conceded that there might be more to the story than what Mrs Robin said. Continue reading
Thanks Amy and Kelly, I wish anybody could help. This is just such an awful situation. After Ignatz and his ADD I’m well and truly used to the judgy-faces awarded the bad mother of a bad child, but Ignatz had good teachers who were on my side and capable of grasping complex ideas. The people I’m dealing with now are… not. The worthlessness of his teacher is established fact. Mrs Robin only put her child in the hospital after DrBob called to say that Robin was not in fact an innocent bystander, as she had initially claimed, and then scuttled in to the principal to tell a story somewhat different than the one she told us. The principal is a credulous, clueless doofus. In my conference with the teacher I said “I need to find a therapist for the Sniglet,” so she took me to the office to get me the phone number and the principal earnestly explained to me that I needed to find a therapist for the Sniglet. Ya don’t say!
I’m sorry that this is all I can talk about. It’s all I can think about. I stay awake till very late brooding, and then when I finally do sleep I dream about it. The anger has faded, as it always does, and left me with something much more like despair.
Song du jour of the day: Helpless, by K.D. Lang. I love that she’s barefoot onstage.
So after Monday’s mess, Christine suggested I keep the Sniglet home on Tuesday, so he’d get a break from the kids who’d been bugging him. I pondered it, but the after-school group had an Easter party planned for that day, and he was excited about it, so I sent him to school. Turns out, Robin wasn’t there, but the Sniglet did see Robin’s mom heading into the principal’s office. Hm, I thought. Continue reading
alala 