Turns out, I can type on muscle relaxers. Look at me.
I made it through Lexi's first choir rehearsal of the year last night, reading in the senior center foyer while Zack lapped up Ricky Ricotta's Mighty Robot vs. the Uranium Unicorns from Uranius. Thankfully, he hasn't heard any crude jokes about this far away planet, or he wouldn't be able to contain himself.
I've been edgy since school began again, displeased with the curriculum in our district. (This is no secret, and while we are visiting my Education Angst, let's all wave at the WASL - the bane of Washington schools.)
Now granted, I sound like Mrs. Bluehair, railing against new math like it's the work of the devil, although clearly it leaves my kids possessed. I am willing to believe that they are gaining some deeper thinking skills and boy howdy, my kids are well versed in demonstrating several strategies. But when did I sign up for this: It is the parents' responsibility to teach the times tables and it is up to the parents to teach basic math skills, if you think they need it. My kids do not know how to borrow. They don't know how to carry, yet they earn top grades and I hear nothing but good things at conferences.
So, I find myself questioning the whole system. I can teach my kids - I am capable and willing - but not every household can. This troubles me, drives me nuts.
And as for my family, when I consider relocating for Greg's job, it has become clear to me that my kids will be behind, because the testing system is different, the curriculum is different.
I'm not sure how to press for changes in the state, while I work on salvaging my kids' education.
What would you do?