At some point during the month of June, I schedule an evaluator to peruse my homeschooling journal and the kid’s portfolios. If she gives her okiedokie, everyone is promoted to the next grade, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief.
(We’ve never ever NOT received an okiedokie, but you know, there’s always THE CHANCE.)
We’ve had the same evaluator for the last 7 years of our homeschooling adventure and we dearly loved her. Alas, she retired and I knew I needed to procure the services of someone else this year. I have a friend of many years (who has successfully completed her homeschooling AND has children that MADE IT INTO COLLEGE) who holds her teaching certificate and is able to do evaluations. I set up an appointment with her to have all 3 of my children LOOKED AT.
The morning of the evaluation, Jensen worked himself into quite a state. He doesn’t care for change and he REALLY didn’t take to the idea of someone looking at his school work and, you know, JUDGING HIM. No matter how I tried to assure and reassure him, he still managed to successfully hyperventilate. The sisters noticed his dilemma and sought to comfort him.
They only added to his misery until he was pretty sure he was going to be repeating Kindergarten, even though he had just completed 3rd.
We met at a designated area and the evaluation began with my oldest. About 5 minutes into the meeting, Jensen came up to me, hyperventilating again, and scratching himself until I though he was going to hit an artery. As far as I know, no homeschool kid has ever died during an evaluation. I didn’t prefer mine to be the first.
I comforted him and slid a couple of Kid’s Benydryl tabs between his lips. There may or may not have been a promise of ice cream should we successfully finish the meeting without a trip to the emergency room.
After Emme’s evaluation was finished, we wisely decided to do Jensen’s, thusly putting him out of
our his misery. I sat and watched Jensen’s eyes shine as my friend, Pam, gushed over his handwriting (the bane of my existence), his careful attention to his math problems (he is certain that math is going to kill him), his detail to Science (the only subject which gives him a reason to live), and eventually, she marveled at his many colorful dinosaur drawings which depict every type known to man and include the requisite 9 year old boy guts and gore.
All scratching ceased.
I’m certain that there is a very special place in heaven that’s extra nice for people like sweet Pam.
I’m happy to say that all 3 children, plus their bedraggled teacher, passed with flying colors. Ice cream was enjoyed by all.
I typed up my letter, included the evaluation, and sent all three envelopes off to our local superintendent of schools. Certified. Return receipt requested.
After 9 long years, I am now officially the homeschooling mother of a high school freshman, a 7th grader, and a reluctant 4th grader.
And still, no one is in therapy.
So far, so good.