Day 13: Vote Day

We are awaiting the results of the vote on the tentative deal. The results will be published as of 9:30 tonight - another 3.5 hours. It's expected to pass, but many teachers are expressing disappointment that their sacrifice hasn't yielded more results, particularly in class composition.

I am becoming a curmudgeon. I am grumpy about everything. I'm feeling old and growly. I want to take the tax money from the private schools unless they fully allow students requiring accommodations (and I don't care what my private school parent friends say, my kid would never be accepted). I feel that, as usual, the parents of kids requiring accommodations are on their own. I have learned how to work the system for my kid and it looks like that's how things will continue for their public education.

Yes, quite curmudgeonly. I feel like yelling at someone to get off my lawn. But, actually, not. More than anything I feel like giving a giant shrug. Because, let's face it. Nothing changes. Social services are short-changed. Male-dominated careers will always be valued more. Maybe I'm not a curmudgeon. I'm just sad.

In the meantime, adding to my feeling sad/old/curmudgeonly, I have my family to love and support. Max, my ever-loving Wheaten Terrier, was finally blessed with his long-desired opportunity to take on a raccoon this morning. He came out of the event with a couple of nips. I'm not sure what the repercussions will be. The mama raccoon hung over the top of my grape trellis, too tired to even hiss at me as I ran by to check on Max. I hissed at her. And called her some unkind names. Serves her right for thumbing her nose at Max over the years as she waddled by in the neighbour's yard, just out of reach. It remains to be seen how Max will recover. He was limping today, but game for a walk. I'm hoping his tenacious terrier attitude will prevail, but he's been wrapped in blankies and love all day.

Sad puppy - was it the fight or the bath?

B left the gate open after coming in from going to the local Rec Centre with our next door neighbour and good friend. He was distracted. ADHD? Perhaps. Turns out, you see, that they met some girls...

Oh god! Thirteen...and today, after a flurry of texts, B emerged from the basement to say he was heading to the movies and her mom was driving them at any minute, they were seeing a "chick flick" because "I'm trying to impress the girls, please, was I going to say, hey - let's go see that action film, you can watch arms being chopped off in 3D?  Can I have some money? Enough to pay for her - just in case?" We were in the middle of making dinner, and I barely had time to process what was happening, give a quick lecture on respect, grab some cash, then the doorbell rang and this very cute girl was at the door. I walked out to meet the mom (never did get her name - she looked as stunned as I felt) and offered to pick them up, then B asks the girl if  she "can pay for herself" and I think, "Okay, this isn't going to last" and a new 'Mom' lecture topic comes to mind: "how to politely ask touchy questions" and BAM my baby is off to the movies.

I wonder if A is feeling weird that his younger brother is going on a "date" before he is? But he's too involved with his new ability to drive to care. "Can we go driving again tonight?" Good God, how did this happen? I'm the parent of teens!

So excuse me if the teachers' issues seem to have slid to the back burner. It's been a busy couple of days. Time has sped up and I suddenly am filled with worries that go waaaay beyond missing some classes...

Day Twelve: The Waiting Game

It rained last night - for the first time in ages. Today feels sad and foreboding. Or maybe that's me as the kids keep coming up with things I need to pay for now that school is starting. It feels so weird. They've missed 27 days of school. A whole month. And now B needs a new wardrobe, C needs a bike, A and B's phones are dying. Whimper. And the job search that I have been postponing (read: avoiding) is back on.

We're hearing the interpretations of the agreement from all sides. Tomorrow is the big vote. If it passes, the kids are back in school on Monday. It needs 50% plus 1 (I guess that's not 51%??) to pass. There are concerns, but I'm sure it will pass. The government took E80 off the table, $108 million toward grievances (which may be used as a signing bonus), $480 million to hire new teachers, $400 for the BCTF (teachers) and $80 for support staff. A raise in line with other public sectors (ie. minimal). It's a 6-year contract - so just as C hits Grade 12...oh great.

I wonder how much $80 million gets you in support staff. If they start at $50K? 60 school districts, so just over $1 million each (which is if it's divided evenly - which is ridiculous but makes the math easier). Coquitlam alone has 70 schools. Huh. That's potentially 20 support staff (assuming that each one makes $50K - which is ridiculous, but makes the math easier). Hmmm...who is included as "support staff" I wonder?

Aha. According to the BC Education website, support staff include: trades (carpenters, gardeners, plumbers, electricians, etc.), computing and IT support (for admin), accounting and payroll, clerical, special ed, teacher assistants, and noon-hour supervision. Hmmm... so not all the money is going to end up in the classroom. Interesting.

I wonder where counsellors, speech pathologists, occupational therapists, etc. come in. I don't see them on the list of support workers and I know first-hand they're in short supply.

Notes are coming from schools fast and furious now. I took the boys to the dentist - no school missed. and no cavities, thank God, but braces in C's future. Guess I'd best get on that job search soon...

Day Eleven: A Tentative Agreement

Woo hoo! They agreed to a "tentative agreement" at 4am! A massive sigh of relief registered across the province. As if in acknowledgement, the weather turned a little cooler. Still sunny, but only 20 degrees today. Our neighbours are madly putting their kids to work on outdoor projects. I should have thought of that. This afternoon, they were up ladders painting and scraping. A more miserable couple of kids you've never seen. I found their son lurking in the basement at one point - I think he was hiding. I kept his secret because he gave me some of his chips.

You can sense the joy

The kids' reaction to the agreement was mixed. Initially, they cheered, then reality started to sink in and the anxieties began percolating. Little worries would pop up in conversation throughout the day. I took them to buy new backpacks. Grandma sent money for backpacks and I splurged on decent ones, since last year I could barely lift A's and I don't want my kids developing humps. They all bought grey. I'm sure that won't be a problem.

B's medication was making him "emo" today. He looked it up and said it's a common but short-lived side-effect of the new medication. I don't like it. We'll be keeping our eyes on that side effect. B can be frustrating, but he's generally a happy guy.

Oh yes, and I will be bubble-wrapping my car...because this happened today:

Suddenly, I felt like the kids did - happy, then "where did the time go?" followed by the urge to hide under my covers.

Day Ten: An Agreement!! Maybe...

What a day today! Beautiful last blast of summer: 27 degrees. We're basking. We work on French verbs this morning and math, then play some badminton. I take B to the doctor - everything is good. He has a new medication to try, so we'll see if we can improve his focus.

We stop at the Root Cellar on the way home, grab an iced coffee and do some shopping. The weather is so nice! We decide to make our own pizzas on the BBQ. 

The tutor came tonight. We booked for next week even though the negotiator is still meeting with the BCTF and government reps in the same hotel. Good news, I think. We might be back to school before October. Feels weird.

Day Nine: A Summary

We are so lucky that the weather has been astonishingly beautiful so far this September. It has rained once since the strike began - I think three times since June. The teachers are walking the picket lines with umbrellas to block the sun.

I am so lucky to be at home right now. Those trying to manage their kids and a job - wow. Or teachers managing kids, picket lines, and shrinking savings. Or parents of special needs kids.

So my pros and cons list is pretty tame, but here they are:

Things I like about having the kids at home:

1. They are getting along. It's weird. C's friends are in some form of daycare and the older boys' friends are in private school, or working, or babysitting younger siblings.

2. They are practising music and doing work during the day, leaving our evenings free for board games, movies, puzzles, and pools. It's been wonderful! We're actually spending time as a family in the evening.

3. They are starting to understand the value of school. For C, it's missing his friends. For B, it's the structure. For A, it's the looming importance of grades and post-grad choices to be made.

4. Not having to get up early and go! go! go! from the start.

5. We're eating better dinners AND the kids are helping in the kitchen more. Why? Because I'm not rushing to leave work, pick up kids, get home, make dinner, get kids to practice, get to homework...

6. Lots of music practice. Their music teachers will be pleased.

7. My job hunt is on hold. My self-esteem needed a break anyway.

Things I don't like about having the kids at home:

1. Too much screen time. Still. The kids are incapable of self-monitoring. They socialize online with friends a couple of blocks away. Inside. While the sun is shining!

2. Getting them up still sucks. The older boys would happily be up until 3 and sleep until 1. Makes me nuts.

3. They are falling behind in schoolwork. There's no way around it. We're just lucky they're in the linear system and not the semester system, so they have only missed about 5 classes and not the 9 the semester kids have missed. Still, there is no way I can keep all the balls in the air with three unmotivated kids. I can only choose the courses they have the most trouble with and focus on them.

4. Not enough exercise. Maybe they would sleep better.

5. The lack of routine. I love the stress-free mornings and evenings, but I hate the uncertainty.

6. My job hunt is on hold.  My self-esteem needs to get over itself and find a job.

Day Eight: Music and Museums

Today, a soccer dad offered to take the public school kids to the museum to see the Vikings exhibit. It was for C's age group (12 year olds) We met at his house, then the kids and he (brave man) scootered and biked to the museum. They had a great time. When they got to the Imax movie, they discussed sharing an extra large popcorn, whereupon my little angel responded, "Sharing is for wimps," and bought his own with the money he had brought.

The dad was truly shocked by this comment. He was very nice about it, but mentioned it at the following soccer game as an "astonishing" thing to say. My husband and I looked at each other and shrugged, "Or," I said, "it's a totally normal thing for the third of three boys to say, although it's still rude. Of course, if he'd been saying it to a brother, it would have been worse." The dad thought that was pretty funny, and concluded that the third has to fight for what's yours. I guess so. It's not like our kids are lacking in any way. And we have ALWAYS encouraged sharing, which worked really well when they were little. These days, our kids are more interested in getting something their brothers don't have and doing a victory dance in front of them. Our board games are NOT for the timid.

While I was dropping C off, A and B took advantage and slept in. Again. The 10am wakeup is just not happening. I took B and a friend to a "strike swim" at a local Rec Centre and they took the bus home. Many pools are closed for maintenance at this time of year or in the midst of their fall schedule. I actually worked out for an hour! Me! Worked out! Then I drove downtown to pick up C at the museum, drive the scooter he used back to his friend's house and get him home for his tuba lesson.

The second we walked through the door, he ran to the washroom, which is where he was when the tuba teacher arrived. C has no shame, yelling, "I'm still pooping!!" when I called him. I really do need to talk to him about manners.

And where was A all this time? On his computer. Working on anything? No. Apparently, "the internet is down." The same internet he's using to play his game? "Uhhh, no. I guess it's the online course website or something." Right.

How does one inspire intrinsic motivation??

A puzzler.

Day Seven: Just keep Swimming!

That's a line from "Finding Nemo," by the way. The character Dory says it over and over again as adversity threatens to overwhelm...

I keep humming that. My heart is growing heavy, thinking of the innocent bystanders in this strike. The teachers who would rather be in the classrooms than standing out on the pavement. The single parent teachers, the two teacher families. How deep can their pockets be?

And the folks who have to work, leaving kids with friends or at home. The kids themselves...the ones who need the structure of school, the ones in Grade 12 and in the semester system. Craziness. The school boards that depend on international students to help meet their budgets. And no end in sight.

So today, the teachers voted overwhelmingly for binding arbitration, but no one thought the government would go for it. They are in the position of strength. They lose nothing by holding out until people can't pay their mortgages and are begging to sign any contract. Again, my heart is heavy, because I have no confidence that the government has any plan beyond breaking the union. Will they increase funding? Unlikely. Will they increase pay? Not a chance.

And attitudes are hardening.

Many of my government worker friends are no fans of the BCTF. Some common statements:

"Why should they get raises when we didn't?" Jealousy can cloud your judgement. I mean, I get it, but I think it blinds you to seeing the nuances in any argument. I am personally very familiar with the little green monster because as a self-employed person, I look through my green lenses at anyone who gets paid vacation, a year's [a year! I took 3 days!] maternity leave, and raises of any amount.

"The nurses didn't get what they want. Why should the teachers?" Huh. I wouldn't hold that example up as an example. The mess that our medical system is in with all the privatized services? The complaints about quality, poor pay for often new immigrants, poor training...

"Why should EVERY teacher get a $5000 signing bonus? It's disgusting!" It's a signing the new contract bonus - to cover the years of no pay increase. And, the government offered $1200, then took it off the table.

"They get the summers off." Well, yes. Which is why their contracts are for 10 months. But that fact is often met with, "Well they get paid really well for only 10 months work." Sigh. I guess so. As someone looking for work, EVERYONE gets paid well from my perspective.  Christ, handing over $70 per hour to the blithering idiot we hired as an electrician just about killed me. Truly, a blithering idiot. There was blithering and there was idiocy. I bet his shop teachers didn't get paid that much. Hmmm...I wonder if that's why there's a shortage of shop teachers...

"They get unlimited massages. I know it because I heard of a teacher..." No. Stop. Just. Please. Stop. This argument is almost always from someone with the opinion that massage therapy is just a spa treatment. My mom, with her many health issues, gets weekly massages, but the way she groans and moans about how painful it is, I would never suggest she was at a spa. The teachers were asking for $700. Considering how much massage therapy costs - the national average is $60/visit - that's 12 visits. Maybe there is some other number somewhere, because I have had people INCENSED that I should suggest massages are often included in group benefit packages.

I have decided that my new approach to these arguments will be to "Smile and wave."

Day Six: Keeping them Busy is Hurting my Brain!

The getting up by 10 thing did not go well this morning.

An epic Settlers of Catan game last night stretched into the wee hours (I lost spectacularly), so I let the kids sleep in. I was thinking 11, but every time I woke them up, then left to do something, they'd meander off to find somewhere else to sleep. There are far too many couches in this house. They have a gift for passive resistance.


On the positive side, the tutoring session went great. My eyes have seen the light! My kids were positive and engaged. It was the first homework session ever where I wasn't guzzling Tylenol by handfuls. Apparently, they save the moaning and groaning for me - worth every penny to have them be polite to a stranger.

Today, I am trying to focus on the youngest. He's a little left out, except for music. Not that he minds. It's amazing how he can find out-of-the-way corners to sneak off to while I'm engaged in Grade 11 Socials or doing the laundry. I found copies of all the Grade 7 work I could find in the files and we'll try that exercise the French teacher gave me. He's currently working on research for best city to live in during the Zombie Apocalypse.

B is working on math. It's all review at this point. I asked if he had finished the two pages I asked for. I should know better. "Yep!" was his response, but when I checked, he gave me a beautiful smile and said, "I love you, Mom." I still made him finish. He had to fill out a sample cheque;  he signed his name with little hearts. I hope he gets to hand that in.

I'm not convinced the oldest did anything today but study a bit for his learner's permit. I asked him to research volunteer positions online. Apparently, this is the MOST IMPOSSIBLE THING IN THE WORLD. Perhaps it's because I only gave him one task. He can research anything on a game he likes, all while watching his phone and playing a game while Skyping. Next time, I'll ask him to do the research while dancing a jig and balancing our budget (now that IS impossible!).


I popped out for a few groceries this afternoon. When I left,  I could hear a tuba braapping, B was reading his chapters on the couch, and A was attempting the impossible. When I returned, all the doors were open, and the house appeared to empty of life. Apparently, my absence had crossed the magic 4 o'clock threshold, the internet was again available and !POOF! everyone disappeared.

I know they're nearby. My kitchen has remnants of root beer floats in it. Little sticky splotches of it, spread generously here and there.

Day Five: Thoughts on Teaching and the Union

I have no great love for the teacher's union.

That said, I do understand the benefit of group benefits and contract negotiation. B attended an "independent" school last year and the teachers there negotiated their contracts separately with the principal and board. They were not paid as much as public school teachers - it's a small school with a small budget. Although the teachers loved their students, there was some resentment that money went into equipment, infrastructure and loan repayment before giving the teachers a raise for several years. I am sure the admin was doing their best. One board member lectured me at length (when I asked about the efficiency of separate negotiations) about how the teachers at that school had it far better than other teachers thanks to small classes and lots of EA support. I didn't disagree, but those advantages didn't stop a couple of teachers from leaving. I suppose that is indeed treating teachers like professionals. In private business, if you are losing your most experienced workers, you find a way to make them happy or they leave.

So, treat teachers like professionals.

But again, how would funding work? Would every school in every district receive the same funding? Would schools in remote or low economic areas be given premium funding to allow them to offer signing bonuses? Or do we end up in the same situation as with medical staff in those areas?

And finally, why do I have no love for the union?

Example 1: The entrenched bad teacher

We had the same crazy kindergarten teacher for all three kids. She had the WORST reputation. Parents deliberately kept their kids out of French Immersion Kindergarten to avoid her, switching in for Grade 1. She had a stack of complaints every year.

Once, in response to a concern that the kids were just let out of the school at 4 and 5 years old with no supervision, whereas other teachers stayed with their classes until caregivers arrived, she said, "Union rules state that I am not required to stay with the kids beyond 11:58." It was no surprise to learn that she was the union rep for the school. The only advantage was the many meetings she had to attend that allowed our kids to have a substitute we loved.

I avoided speaking to fellow Kindie parents when A was in her class because it upset me too much. I asked my son if his teacher ever yelled (after a story I had heard). He answered, "Only when we're bad. Like you!" Little darling.

I had two other wee ones and little ability to do much beyond function at a minimal level at that time in my life (sleep deprivation is a terrible thing). Parents were frustrated because there was nothing that could be done. Being abrasive, shrill and insulting doesn't break any laws, so there she stayed. It was a rude introduction to the limits of a parent's power in the public school system. I did ask once at a PAC meeting about teacher evaluations - the blank stares I received were answer enough. What point is there in evaluating if there is no no incentive to improve?

Example 2: Seniority trumps all

The same teacher took some time off to pursue a sewing course - or something equally bizarre - but then returned. She decided she didn't want to teach "kindies" any more, so she bumped a truly excellent Grade 1 teacher that everyone loved. Those who had breathed a sigh of relief having missed her in Kindergarten were horrified to find she was teaching Grade 1. People were pulling their kids out of her class like crazy (the only power they had).

A well-loved middle school music teacher was the victim of the same thing. He was bumped by someone with a year's more seniority. Parents rallied and sent emails and letters begging keep the other teacher. The admin, of course, was powerless. The new teacher was a fine teacher, but it's the sort of thing that drives parents crazy.

When I first arrived on the West Coast, I looked into picking up a BEd, specifically to teach ESL (which I love), and I attended the worst employment workshop ever. A job action had just ended - perhaps not a great time to ask about a teaching career.

The two teacher representatives first gave a dispirited powerpoint presentation on required courses, then sat glumly at a table in a crowded lecture hall and asked for questions. I asked if  there were any opportunities for someone to teach ESL within the school system. One of them snorted.

"What is your background?" she asked.

"I have a Master's degree in Linguistics and a Teaching English as a Second Language Certificate," I said. The other woman rolled her eyes and people snickered. "But I'd heard that BC was in desperate need of ESL teachers," I spluttered.

"Let me lay this out for you. At John Smith Public School, an ESL position comes up. At the same time, they have had to let Mrs. Jones, a math teacher for 15 years, go. She decides to apply for the job too. Who do you think gets it?"

"Oh."

"Do you speak any French?" the other woman barked.

"Uh, yes. I took it into university." They looked at each other knowingly.

"That's what you'll be teaching then. And not in your own class. Everyone wants to teach on the coast. You'll be a teacher on call for years, subbing for French teachers."

I shuddered deeply...

"Exactly."

And thus ended my non-teaching career.

Day Four: Tutor Troubles

Whoo boy.

Another crazy-making day.  The teacher I booked for French tutoring called in the morning, nervous, because the union came down hard this morning on teachers tutoring during school hours, so we cancelled. She gave me some great ideas over the phone for short writing exercises and then said that she was working at a camp next week. A 9-3 French camp. Isn't that school hours? I guess it's okay because there is no schoolwork associated with the program.

It actually sounds like a great program, including outdoor time and social justice activities, BUT my youngest has some pretty big anxieties around new situations with new people. Plus, it's $40/day which leaves nothing for the others.

So...

We did meet and like the science and math tutor, the one doing carpentry on the side...we met him in the evening after his little ones were in bed, so the entire meeting was whispered. The strangest conversation about the strike situation I've ever had. It was so ridiculous, we often erupted in very quiet giggles (okay, I giggled, the men chortled softly).

Apparently, booking a teacher who has always tutored in the evening is okay.

It's a head-scratcher, but emphasizes the brain-twisting logic that the union often employs. Neither side is coming off smelling like roses. More like what we grow them in.

Day Three: Thoughts on Class Composition

Woke up to news of a new "game theory" classroom. Sounds like something worth exploring, which is a problem I have with the current union/government setup. There is very little room in the system for innovation. Little bits, here and there: a nature kindergarten here and minor changes there.

As a parent of a kid with learning issues, I completely understand the concern regarding class composition. I spent many hours in the classroom as a volunteer parent (read: upaid EA) because if B wasn't off to a good start in the morning, he sat in a fog the whole day. So every morning, I was there. Every art class day, I was there. Any class with a transition (craft day, cooking day, go outside day), I was there. And I wound up, year after year, helping the same group of kids. The ones who didn't have a formal designation and some who did. Those whose parents were in denial, or those whose issues didn't fall into a "fund-able" category - like mine. I sat in the classroom and watched as the kids who needed an extra hand fall behind. Sometimes because the teachers were blissfully ignorant (I remember smiling through gritted teeth at story circle, trying to kill with my mind) and sometimes because teachers, trying their best, just couldn't meet the 6 variety of special needs plus run a class.

And just because a kid had funding didn't mean they "got" funding. The funding goes to the school, where it gets divvied up amongst all the kids with "needs." For example, a few years ago, a parent with a kid with Asperger's filled out all the paperwork herself rather than wait for it to wind its way through the system, then went the extra mile to get funding for transportation, only for the school to pull rank, take the funding and divide it amongst those "most in need." So her son received 3 hours a week of help rather than 3 hours a day. While she acknowledged the tricky situation the school administration was in, she pulled her son out of the school, took his funding, and homeschooled.

Funding was moot for us, as my son has ADHD, which folks love to blame on SpongeBob, gluten, dairy, active imaginations, too much TV, over-diagnosis and the general idiocy of any parent who is not them. The BC government does not recognize ADHD as a learning issue. They don't have to. It is not recognized as such in the DSM-IV and they can always rely on the hysterical holier-than-thou folks to deny their tax dollars to support bad parenting and an imaginary problem when we all know that "boys are like that." My kid is intelligent, funny, and has the attention span of a hummingbird. There is a range of "kids are like that" and then an outer range of "some boys are like that" and then there's "what the hell??" That's my guy. Actually, he might not even be on the range. He's a small dot on the horizon.

So I am a believer in better class composition. Fund more EAs. Give the teacher in the classroom some support for those who need it. We gave up in Grade 5 and pulled our son out and put him into an independent school that specializes in kids with learning issues. Cost  $7K plus a year. We pulled him out of there for high school, in part, because the school was so small, the course options were limited. And even there, in having to meet provincially mandated requirements, there was little room for innovation. So we're back in the system this year. Sort of.

Last night, I had a Facebook back and forth with a very conservative friend. I didn't agree with his suggestion that each teacher negotiate their own contract as in private business. There would have to be limits to that. Otherwise, the lower economic areas would end up at even more of a disadvantage than they are now. How could they compete? Would the government allot them more money because they would have a higher number of learning and behaviour issues? Doubt it. The voters are elsewhere and politics trumps social justice. I did agree with one thing he wrote: "We should start treating teachers like professionals." We should. And less like glorified babysitters. And kids like mine as worth the effort. Because they are.

Day Two: Textbooks and Tutors

I woke up to a radio report about the strike. It absolutely dominates the news - and with good reason. There are so many people scrambling for childcare, it *almost* makes me glad my job search is going so poorly.

One dad talked about how he went to his son's school yesterday and picked up textbooks. The host then suggested that everyone should do that. To which the co-host suggested he might be creating a news story and by the end of the day they'd be reporting on parents being charged for trespassing. I'm not sure about summoning my inner ninja, but it did get me thinking...

I started as one does in 2014, by sending out requests on Facebook and Twitter. A couple of responses and a more requests for info if I find anything. I found someone yesterday on UsedVictoria offering tutoring services: a teacher balancing construction contracts, parenting two little ones, walking the picket line and tutoring. Bingo! He has Science 9 and Chem 11 texts. Two of about a zillion. I checked the ads today and there were about 20 ads for tutoring. I think I got lucky.

We meet the tutor tomorrow. So here's the thing: I want to hire a tutor for three kids if this strike really is going to last into October like folks are saying, but we only get $40 for the one kid under 13. So $200/week to spend on tutoring. A friend offered to share a tutor for 2h/day for 2h a day but that leaves me with no money for the other two.

Got in touch with two of my favourite middle school French immersion teachers to see if they had any advice. One sent me a link to a 9-3 French Immersion "camp" hosted by a local ESL private college for ... $40/day. If I had one kid, maybe, but I am also enjoying the idea that the kids can max out on music lessons during the day. The other said, "Oh, are you asking me to tutor?" I wasn't, really, but Bingo! This teacher is in a two teacher family with a little one and another on the way. I can't even imagine - our budgeting skills are such that we're working on a Freedom 85 plan. Going without income for months - eeesh - we'd be living in our tent trailer.

A music teacher, who shall remain nameless but infinitely awesome, summoned his inner ninja and snuck a tuba out of the school for C this summer. He's probably so excited that there is a student willing to play tuba it was worth the risk. The teacher also suggested a private teacher who plays for the local symphony and has a great reputation as a teacher, so I am chuffed that he can come tomorrow and give C a lesson. By the time school begins again, C should at least know how to make sounds, not noise.

End of day two tally:

1 tutor, science grade 9, chem 11
1 tutor, French grade 7
1 tuba lesson
1 guitar/bass lesson
1 math text, downloaded (grade 9; 11)
1 English curriculum (Grade 11)

Teenage awakenings update: by 11-ish. Less moaning today.

Lack of electronics: more subterfuge today. The kids have a profound skill in passive resistance and I am outnumbered...hence need for tutors. 

Day One: The hammer falls

The characters:

Mom, aka. the embodiment of all things evil (depending on the moment). The woman charged with finding ways to keep the three boys educated and off the crack (aka electronics).

The 16-year-old, A. Turns 16 tomorrow, starting Grade 11. Rare sightings before noon on non-school days. Motivation minimal. Pays lip service to the idea that school may be important to his future. Good at math. Hates writing.

The 13-year-old, B. Starting Grade 9. Motivation less than minimal. Thinks everything is STUPID. Especially having to do anything that is not fun (which is everything except video games, dubstep, and swimming).

The 12-year-old, C. Starting Grade 7, just turned 12. French Immersion. Good at math, hates writing. [C's edit: I do NOT hate writing. I just don't like "school writing."]

The plot:

An indefinite school strike. Folks are saying it could last into October (oh God!). The kids have already had 12 weeks of summer thanks the strike starting in June. Any longer, and they'll forget everything ever learned.

Day One:

Today was day one of the "no electronics until after 4" and "up by 10am." So C was up by 9, the other two required multiple attempts, culminating in an 11am symphony of pots and wooden spoons. Tomorrow, opera. B is lucky his voice is so low no one can hear what he's saying. I'm sure it wasn't very nice.

The plan was to head to the library, choose a book to read, update library cards. A announces that his jazz combo is arriving at noon for practice. As the drummer, all practices are at our place. I give him a pass. B announces, "This is stupid. We have lots of books. I'll just choose one here. But I'm NOT reading it if I have to write an essay!"  He heads back to bed to "read." More grumbling when I send him stomping back into the living room, "This is stupid." I sense a theme.

C wants to do a puzzle, "It's not electronic! Can you help me?" As I head to the basement, I hear B head out of the living room.

"Keep reading!" I shout.

"This is stupid," I hear as he stomps back to the couch.

As for the electronics ban, it's noon and A just walked in the kitchen with phone in hand, ear buds dangling. "Well, I mean, I'm eating, so it doesn't really count, right?"

B meanders in, "Can I have a latte? I'm SO tired."

C arrives, "Ooo. Can I have hot chocolate?"

B: "I'm hungry. I'm going to make some eggs. Do you want some? Do I need to heat up the pan with the oil?"

C: "The machine is overflowing!"

B: "Are the eggs supposed to look like that?"

Amidst the chaos, A slinks away, phone jammed in his pocket.

Now I hear drums. The jazz group has arrived. At least A is playing music.

I re-read an email from someone who has developed a Super Fun! homeschooling curriculum. Apparently, he has total buy-in from his kids. I picture them up at 7 to get an early start on the ride into town for the first activity: a scavenger hunt in Victoria. Big super fun dimply smiles on their eager faces. I put on my best Super Fun smile and suggest the Scavenger Hunt activity to my kids.

"Together?"
"Why? We've been all those places."
"My bike is broken. I keep telling you. It needs to be taken to the shop."
"It's broken because you trash it."
"Do not!"
"My bike is too small."
"You are NOT that tall."
"Shut UP! At least I'm not stupid."
 "No one is stupid. Or short. Just shorter."
"And stupider."
"No. Stop bugging your brother."

"Can we go for lunch while we're there?"
"Stop it. What? Lunch? No."
"Why do we have to go to Chinatown? We go there all the time."
"It's a scavenger hunt."
"Go to Chinatown and not eat lunch? That's stupid."
"It's not stupid. You follow these questions and write a paragraph about the history of something you find."
[SILENCE]
"Why do we have to write something? You are going to GRADE it?"
"Why do we have to take selfies in each location?"
"To prove you were there, loser. Otherwise we can split the list and do it in a third the time. Or just give it to C to do." 
"Hey!"
"It bothers me that you've already thought of that."
"Selfies are so hipster. And don't call me loser."
"You know what? Maybe we'll save this for another day. I'll look into tutors."

Honestly, this is a fraction of the conversation. At one point, it veered off into a discussion of caring for one's belongings. It may take a few days for the reality of this to sink in. And for my backbone to firm up.