Once a week, we are involved in a homeschool enrichment program which is taught by moms and sponsored by our homeschool group. This is a wonderful occasion for our kids to be exposed to different electives and learning opportunities.
And to, well, other kids.
Afterwards, many of us head to the local park for a little lunch and play.
This week, we took a detour before heading to the park. Because I determined that my lunch should come in a grande Starbucks cup. With whip cream and a straw.
I had my 3 kids in the van, plus Emme’s BFF. Cailey and Jensen occupied the middle row, and Emme and BFF sat in the cheap seats, way in the back.
I kept the music off, and tried to listen to the conversation between two 9 year olds in the rear of the van. Which was not easy, since the middle row occupants are compelled to tease, torture, and generally FREAK OUT with each other. It’s in the van by-laws.
I get my best information when I can steal a listen to a 9 year olds musings. With another 9 year old. They determined that when they got their braces, blue should be the color of choice.
Let me pause here to make an observation. A question, really. How is it, that a 9 year old can romanticize about getting braces? Especially a 9 year old who lived in the same house with a mother who had to endure 18 months of adult orthodontia humiliation and torture. A mother, who I might add, does not suffer in silence.
And btw, I chose “clear” for my color of braces. Not something I recommend. Because “clear” is code for “yellow” (or light brown if you’re a coffee drinker) and only serves to make the experience all the more humiliating.
Emme and BFF also concluded that Lucky Charms have WAY too much sugar, and spinach should be stricken from the food pyramid altogether.
There was also talk of fashion and possibly boys, but I couldn’t be sure because that’s the moment that Cailey chose to swipe a toy from Jensen, who then thwacked his guilty sister with the business end of his Blues Clues blanket. Screaming and yelling followed. But, not by me.
I wisely chose to maintain my composure, since we had a van guest. But I did manage to shoot the stink eye into the rear view mirror at the middle row occupants.
Once we were safely ensconced at the park, I joined in on the conversation of the other bedraggled homeschool moms. And since I was WAY amped up on caffeine, I felt rather chatty.
We were discussing that all important “socialization issue” that comes up every time we feel a need to defend our homeschooling choice.
And we all smiled as we looked around the playground at our children. A 14 year old girl was pushing Jensen in the baby swing. REALLY HIGH, just the way he likes it. I made a mental note to warn her that he will on occasion, barf, but will insist on not stopping. I’ve learned to simply stand way back between pushes.
A few yards to the left, 6 or 7 boys and girls of various ages were playing tag. This game also included a dad. And other assorted kids were involved in skateboarding, rough housing, and general horse play.
This was a playground full of children ages 3 to 14 or so, all playing together, with no segregation according to age, race, or sex.
That socialization thing?
Not an issue.