Today marks significant changes in the running of my household. My son will be moving from homeschool to middle school this Fall, which means we are buckling down to make sure he has his education bases covered. That looks like me sitting with him for an hour or more each day reading from a Big Fat Notebook about English, American History, World History, Science or Math. This is different for other homeschooling we've done because this series teaches to Common Core standards whereas we have unschooled, having Kid1 read and record what areas he's been working in for the last year plus.

We haven't worried about standards for two reasons:

• Kid1 always exceeds academic expectations.
• We never thought he'd be able or want to go back to school.

Autism for our kiddo means he is very easily pushed into sensory overload. For example, walking down a busy hallway is a test of personal power. Sitting next to a gum chewer is a sentence to personal hell. He often does not take meals with us because his tolerance for mouth noises is nonexistent. I get it. I share these struggles.

Kid1 is at a disadvantage because of his advantage. What I mean to say is his issues processing sensory stimuli are real, and because we recognize them as real, we have worked to help him coexist comfortably with us rather than browbeating him into hiding his own needs from himself, say, in a closet until age 33. You know, like me.

We pulled him out of school to pull him out of sensory overload so he could begin living. The thought of him back in a group setting is frightening because I very clearly remember the level of meltdown he would experience every day after school. It was horrible to see him scream and cry and even bash his body into things because his brain and body couldn't get on the same page about the sounds, sights, smells and so on in even half a school day. But he has grown immeasurably in the last year and a half. And he really, truly wants to go to school.

What we know about Kid1 is that when he wants something, he can make it work. He wants to be social. He misses having access to friends. He is frustrated by the lack of structure in his homeschool routine (which is actually highly structured but not like attending school will be). He wants a "normal" kid experience, and he has worked hard with his behavioral therapy team to learn and implement coping mechanisms.

This change to our homeschool? That's me aligning the work he's doing and home (and the way he's doing it) with what he will most likely experience in the classroom. It's a support in the process of transition so he can experience maximum success. Which means I need to hang in there.

I teach adults. I love teaching adults. Despite being a Daisy troop leader, I do not enjoy working with kids. Let them hit age 21. or even better, 23. That sweet spot when they realize they don't actually know everything. I have zero patience for sass in a classroom setting. Intellectual debates with respect for peers are where it's at. Minimal interruptions, conscious listening, curiosity and emotional endurance. Things your typical kid doesn't have at age 12. So sitting with Kid1 and reading a passage to him he's totally capable of reading to himself is me pushing my limits. But it's him pushing his limits, too. We're in it together.

I know I just said I don't like teaching kids (even my own), but I am grateful for this time. If it turns out Kid1 can't do public schooling, we will have established a new method of homeschooling that will allow for assessment. Our routine will be set in advance, and we will both be prepared to put in the time necessary to reach learning goals. Also, it allows me to spend one-on-one time with my tween. Even if he didn't have sensory differences, he's of an age where hanging out with Mom is not cool.

There are always ways to stretch and grow. I didn't see this path coming, but I'm happy to be walking it. The trick is keeping the pace steady and my face non-reactive. I know I've got this.

What boundaries are you pushing?

Recent Posts

• March for Our Lives (psychology)
• What happened when we set up security cameras (photography)
• When life throws you an invisibility cloak. . . (life)
• One day my children will say I was a bad parent (psychology)
• Gush (poetry)
• You will never know unless you try (life)
• All About Those Snuggles (life)
• Believe You Are Enough (motivation)
• Pain of Impact (poetry)
• What to Do When Your Writing Re-opens Wounds (psychology)
• SPU Poetry Contest #4: Hiding Place (poetsunited)
• Surviving Tax Season as a Crypto Couple (life)

_{Animated Banner Created By @zord189}