Friday, June 6, 2014

Wrong Question!

Nothing drives home the fact that I'm a little bit weird more than my reaction to the standard conversational questions people ask. The simplest question leaves me drooling on my shoes, because the way I do things (or think about things) is... well... weird!

For example:

Are you done homeschooling?

Pardon me? Done forever? Done for the year? Whaaaat?

What would I be done doing? Should I actively inhibit learning for the next eight weeks?

 Sorry, Little Mister. No math. Oh, you're calculating how much money you'll need to get that toy? STOP IT RIGHT NOW! You're on summer break, and we absolutely are DONE LEARNING FOR THE SUMMER. 

Should I stop the delightful chaos that is learning?

Do you really want a detailed run-down on which music teachers are taking a break for a month? No? I thought not. 

What grade is he in?

Are you asking how old he is? He is seven, so he's in "first grade." 

But that is so not accurate. 

His handwriting sucks. Kindergarten? Maybe? 

His mapping skills rock. College?

He's studying fractions. People generally do that in fourth or fifth grade, unless they didn't get it then. In that case, Math 143?

He's reading about magnets. I don't think I ever did an in-depth unit on magnets. 

What's wrong with your eyes?

Oh how I wish I had a quick one-liner for that one!

Can she see anything at all?

Why does EVERYONE ask this?? I don't get it. Does it matter? Is it just so you can rejoice that she is not forever buried in depressing darkness (sarcasm alert) (alliteration alert)?

If I say yes, then people assume she can see well

If I say no, they are confused by her chirping, "Mommy, look at that yellow bike!"

She can see maybe 5%. She can't find a chair 2 feet in front of her. But there is so much more to her than that 5% of vision! Who cares!!!

Do you like having four kids?

Define "like." 

If you mean am I thrilled with small people invading the bathroom when I'm trying to go, well, no. 

If you mean am I continuously amazed by these beautiful souls that share my world, well, sure. 

Is that how every parent feels, whether they have one kid or twelve?

What's your plan for next year?

Are you freaking kidding me? I don't have a plan for lunch today!

Plan for next year:

1. Keep kids alive. 

What's it like not driving?

Uhhh... Think about this one for 2.6 seconds. 

Yep, it's like that. 

What curriculum do you use?

Oh, this is a tricky one! 

If I say I don't use curriculum at all, people immediately conjure the image of four kids draped around the furniture watching a Phineas and Ferb marathon.

If I say that I create my own curriculum using a variety of resources, people are suddenly so intimidated by me that they stammer something about going to check on their baby goats and flee. I never see them again. 

If I say we do a little of this and that, they want a run-down on which exact book I used for each subject, when in reality we worked on fractions that morning using peanut brittle, and then played chess using Strawberry Shortcake dolls. 

If I say, "curriculum?" I get a fifteen minute spiel on what curriculum I should be using, and which curriculum they used and the other one they used last year. It just makes me crave peanut brittle. 

And I'll never get those 15 minutes of my life back. 

Did you get a pool pass?

Oh! That one I can answer! Yes! We got a pool pass. 

See you at the pool. 

We can chat about curriculum. 


  1. Wow! We are so related! I do the exact same thing! How well do I know this person? Do they want detail? How much should I share? Wait no... I don't like the follow questions so let's avoid that....
    Last semester a teacher asked something (just trying to engage and get to know me after class)

  2. And I just stared at him then after a pause... Smiled and said "ok bye" and turned around and walked out without answering the question. This method is effective but does not come without consequences.