I'm just popping by real quick (because...did I mention I'm taking a summer course that smashes an entire semester into a mere 19 days of work? All I have left to do now is my final project but...it's going to be an intense couple of days getting that done) to say that today we finished up eight weeks of our school year.
Of course, we don't always do schoolwork on Fridays, so I've only counted 35 instructional days, but still. We're pretty happy to be this far "ahead" before the public schools have even started (they go back next week).
One of my primary concerns about homeschooling is that I'm not doing enough (but that also might simply be a personality flaw of mine (shhhh...it's fine)) but today Zoë finished with the first half of her math curriculum for this year, so I think we're probably doing enough in that department. She's done really well, too, except today she announced that she doesn't really need to learn any more math because she's going to be a ballet teacher when she grows up and the only math you need to learn to do that job is just counting...to keep time with the music...and she already knows all about that so she's all set!
Everyone in the family quickly intervened, telling her that she'd need to learn more math to know how much tuition to charge, how much to pay her co-teachers, how to pay her studio rental and utility fees, how to design a safe stage set, how to...etc.
So she's convinced she can start on the second half of her curriculum (though I might let her spend more time playing Prodigy) and I'm convinced that we probably are moving through our curriculum at a decent (if not accelerated) clip.
We are, in case you were wondering, still (yes, still) in the middle of a global pandemic. I will admit that I was feeling rather obnoxious about how strict I had remained when things were looking up for a couple of weeks. Our stake has stopped all zooming and everything is supposed to be in-person, but I just couldn't shake this feeling of I simply don't trust that we've done everything we can as a society to ensure this isn't going to get bad again really soon, so I stuck to my guns (much to everyone's annoyance) and now I'm so glad I did. Because things are bad again!
I'm not happy about it. But I am glad I stood my ground and insisted we continue staying home and being careful. I'm also not surprised things have gotten worse because I really just don't trust that we've done everything we can as a society to ensure this isn't going to get bad again! Have you seen our vaccination rates?!
Not too long ago, my mom sent an article to our little family group chat about President Macron saying, "I no longer have any intention of sacrificing my life, my time, my freedom and the adolescence of my daughters, as well as their right to study properly, for those who refuse to be vaccinated. This time you stay at home, not us," (which, in fact, was a misattribution; what Macron actually said was a little more presidential-sounding: that getting vaccinated is "a question of individual responsibility, of a sense of collective spirit," Macron said in his address. "It is also what our freedom depends on, for everyone").
Anyway, the point of telling you that is that my siblings immediately began liking it. Josie "hearted" it. I responded with a clapping emoji and said, "If only our government could stop acting like a flamingo and put their foot down" (because that's a joke that had been cycling around our house).
Then my sister Kelli responded, "I can't heart this."
Then Josie said, "It feels extreme, but totally. The responsible people are bearing the continuous burden."
And I said, "That’s okay. I just think it’s about time someone said that if you don’t want to participate in civil society…then you do so at YOUR cost, not mine."
And we went on and on like this. With Josie sharing a few articles. And me talking about how various "freedoms from masking" have made it so that I essentially can't take my unvaccinated children anywhere when I perhaps would have been willing to risk going to church if masks had remained mandatory (for example).
Kelli made a few responses about her friend getting COVID who had been vaccinated.
I was like, "Yeah. We know breakthrough cases happen. It's still important to get vaccinated."
Josie posted an article about the unvaccinated being the majority of the severe cases of COVID at the present time.
And, like, I know Kelli is vaccinated. But it's also true that we haven't always quite been on the same page with everything this pandemic (which she's honestly been very respectful about, cancelling a trip out to visit us before vaccines became available and everything; really she's just been really sweet).
Anyway, after Josie and I had been sustaining this little impromptu "intervention" for Kelli on our family chat for some time, Kelli wrote, "When I said I can't love this... I meant literally clicking the ❤!"
I just about died laughing.
I told her that next time she could maybe write something like, "I can't heart this ENOUGH."
Also maybe I could stand to cool my jets a little. Maybe.
Apparently every time she tried to click the heart it would put up the laughing emoji instead.
"I understood what Kelli meant," Patrick said, "But also liked you going off on her. So I'm content with the content."
"I have big feelings!" I said.
I think this pandemic is getting to everyone.
Patrick agrees with me. He said, "And I think as a society we are failing so the feelings will get bigger by the end."
But, for real. To quote the actual Macron, this is "a question of individual responsibility, of a sense of collective spirit. It is also what our freedom depends on, for everyone."
Freedom won't really exist until there's freedom for all. And we simply aren't at that point, so until then we need to continue taking individual responsibility for the collective well-being of our society.
And I admit that part of that individual responsibility is to cool one's jets rather than hopping on them and "going off."
And I just thought it was funny how quickly my children started blasting Zoë with reasons why she needed to continue studying math when she simply off-handedly mentioned ballerinas don't need math.
They reminded me of me and Josie lambasting Kelli over her "can't heart this" remark."
Have I gone and raised a bunch of mini-mes? Is that what I've done?
If so, send help.
I'll need it.