I am not getting my kids up before their bodies are ready to awaken.
I am not rushing them through breakfast.
I am not dressing them for fashion or first impression, but for comfort, and play, if at all.
I am not giving them lunch money, putting them on a bus, or leaving them at a door.
I am not telling them when they may go outside, nor when they may eat, get a drink, or go to the bathroom, nor how much time they have to do any of these things.
I am not dropping them off with people who neither know nor love them. I am not leaving them with people whom we have never met, nor with people who may not respect my children as the individual people that they are, nor respect the values we hold dear.
I am not sending my kids off to spend over half their waking hours away from everything and everyone they know, including each other.
I am not telling them that I don’t have time for their questions, to do the assignment as given, or that they can’t read ahead, or read or do something else entirely.
I am not telling them that their goals and dreams will now take a backseat to the goals of institutionalized testing.
I am not missing out on seeing the sparkle in their eyes when they learn something new, nor am I telling them what that something new will be.
I am not putting on a brave face. I am not telling them that everything will be ok, when I have no idea whatsoever if it actually will be, and not so secretly fear that it won’t be.
I am not chivvying nor comforting a scared child.
I am not crying myself to sleep.