Save for the third grade (Mrs. Palmer, you may kiss my cottage cheese ass), Jack's always thrived in public school. Loved the structure, loved the rules, pushed himself to excel. We've never had a worry about him, in fact, if he brings home anything below an A grade, we worry that something must be wrong.

When Henry was about 18 months old, I distinctly remember watching him pull out all the drawers in the kitchen to use as stairs so he could reach the toaster. To put my credit card in. To just see what would happen. A drawer left slightly open: Jack would always close it. Henry would always dump whatever was in it out on the floor and see what he could create. In the years that preceeded Henry's entry into the system, Mitch and I would frequently discuss how Henry would handle the rigors of traditional education. Last year, kindergarten, he loved. Half day, no desks, lots of free play. This year, not so much. I've been spending every spare free minute in his classroom to try to determine why he hates school so much. He's not disruptive in any way, he's polite, he's not aggressive. He's just bored. The time wasted in getting all the children on the same page seems to be the biggest problem.

So! There is a program here that is run by the public school that is an arts-based home school program. The student attends core classes three mornings per week, and the rest of the education is provided by the parents. The families get to pick all the rest of the curriculum (approved by the program, of course). They also get to pick elective classes, like tumbling, music, piano, clay modeling, etc. The parents generally are present for many of these classes. If I can figure out a way to continue working in the girls' co-op preschool, we're thinking of taking Henry out of public school and do this amazing and terrifying (for me) program. With the girls on the cusp of kindergarten, the words of Michael Corleone keep running through my head "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in..."