Not so summer lovin.

This spring life has returned to our house. After months and months of struggling to keep the members of our household safe and calm, our decision to stop homeschooling and enroll Max in his little school has allowed life to flourish in our house once more. Life in the form of creatively empowered homeschooling for the other kids and a Mama who could remember the joys of stringing words into coherent sentences. And it has been so blissful.


And like so many other good things, we knew it would our blissful life would eventually come to an end. In other words, summer vacation. As our friends have been gleefully counting down to the end of their captivity, my homeschooled children and I have been dreading it. For us it means dropping everything to tend to our colicky nine year old. It means hunkering down to weather the storm. It means the end of creative pursuits and the return to survival mode.

But it’s more than that. If it were only about our own needs for sanity we could do it. I think.

Unfortunately the end of the school year is a serious matter for young Max as well. The freedom of summer also means the end of certainty that comes with school. The comfort of doing the exact same things, in the exact same order, for the exact same length of time every day. It means debilitating anxiety from not having a picture schedule in front of him to rely on all day long. And the Mama guilt that goes along with not being able to provide the rigid structure he craves.

Spring break was a real wake-up call. Max was a hot mess all week long. He was confused, angry, and felt rejected by his teachers. He made it clear that we weren’t the only ones dreading the end of the school year. As much as we need for Max to go to school for our own sanity, his need to be in school is far stronger.

And the beautiful thing that makes me want to sing and tap dance across the stage? His school offers an extended school year. Same teachers. Same classroom. Same classmates. Same hours. Same picture schedule. Same peace. Isn’t that the best thing you’ve heard today? I’m telling you my three homeschooled children and I do a little dance each time we think of his beautiful teachers who have graciously accepted him into their fold. All summer long.

So while I’m a little sad that Max can’t gleefully celebrate the coming of summer vacation and the promises it holds, I can only be thrilled that he’s found a place that really understands his needs.

And praise God for special ed teachers. Can I get an Amen on that one?

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