One problem down, just 854 more to go

If you’ve read me for a while, you may know my struggle with my kid’s schooling.   There is a resolution.  It’s been such a long road…

They have only attended Catholic school.  It started as a necessity since we lived in a less than stellar school district.

Then we moved.

We moved to a great school district, but part of us felt this obligation to keep them in the Catholic school system.  We are not overtly Catholic and this particular parish was, so from the get go, we were the black sheep.  Once the kids were in, our feeling of obligation grew, and was exacerbated by a concern of uprooting everything they knew and putting them into, yet, a different school.  So we didn’t.

We had problems at that school.  Lots.  The class sizes were very large.  My kids were nameless numbers.   We were unhappy.  The school’s cost kept rising and our ability to pay it kept dropping.

Last year, my son moved onto high school and was our guinea pig public school tester.  He loved it.  We loved it.  The simplicity of it amazed us.  They weren’t constantly asking for money, there was a BUS, activities were free, they weren’t judgy about our church going habits or how spiritual we chose to be and I was not needed to volunteer 10 times a month.  Why did I not know about this and why did it take me so long to take advantage of it???

So registration rolled around and I got stage fright.  I worried about the change- for them and for me.  Worried about our level of comfort and security being gone.  I registered them back into the Catholic school.  I payed the registration fee and had immediate regret and remorse.  Had I done the right thing?  Is this benefiting our family as a whole- being financially strapped for a school that we don’t love and don’t feel part of the community?

I had one starting Kindergarten and one going into 6th grade.   If there was an ideal transitional year, this was it.

I swallowed my pride.  It was time to make a change for the better and what we had been doing wasn’t working.  I worked up the courage.    My nerves a wreck, I made the call.  I told the principal that, financially, we just couldn’t do it anymore.

She responded in a way that I didn’t expect.  She said she wanted to help us out and that they don’t like people leaving for financial reasons (I didn’t mention our issues with the school.)  At first, I felt relieved.  That she seemed so open, caring  and willing to help.  I was glad that we didn’t have to make changes.  That everything would be able to stay the same.  That we all wouldn’t have to go through the first day, new school anxieties again.

Then it stewed in my brain for a while and in the pit of my stomach, I knew I was making a huge mistake by accepting her offer.  The fact was that NO ONE was happy- financial or otherwise.   It WAS the perfect time to make the change.  I should have stood my ground and gone with my gut.  Regret was eating me alive.

Months came and went.  Summer break was well under way.  In the back of my mind, I kept thinking how I should have followed my instincts.

Then, Monday, without any notice at all, a $600 tuition payment was withdrawn from my bank account.  An account that, well, did NOT have $600 in it.   I panicked.  I scrambled.  I was angry.  I was afraid.  I was told that the payment was supposed to be $800 and this was the help they gave.

This was the sign.  Oddly enough, the sign that sent me away from the Catholic school.  I could no longer do this.  Whether they fixed it or not, this was the message that I needed- loud and clear.   It was time to make the change.

For the last 3 days, I have been registering kids in a school that started 4 days earlier- not only would they be the new kids- they’d be the new kids 4 days late- all by themselves!  I was ridden with guilt about moving them, springing it on them in such a compulsive, last minute manner.    Trying to convince my 11 year old drama queen (the only one that wanted to stay) that her life is not ending.   Hoping I’m making the right decision- a decision that I’ve contemplated for 5 years, but ultimately expedited in a matter of 24 hours of madness,  tears, and hope.

Today, two of the kids started.  I walked them in with bags of supplies in my hands and a lump in my throat.

My 9 year old was shy, but in great spirits.  Nonetheless, it pained me to drop her off in a new place with everyone around her socializing.   When I went to pick her up, she was sitting by herself- a sight that immediately sent my stomach turning and my eyes watering.  Please Dear God, let her have had a great day! When I asked her what she didn’t like about the school, she said, “nothing, I really liked it all.”

The relief I felt was summed up by my Kindergartner’s synopsis of her first day of school…   “It was the bestest day EVER!”