Words alone cannot describe how excited I am that my kids are finally going back to school tomorrow (only 100 days after this all started!) Professor Mom did what she could, but the boys are clearly bored and itching to get back to a real classroom. There were happy dances all around when we heard the strike was ending.

My parents are especially happy, since they long ago agreed to babysit for two weeks while Chris and I go off on vacation. We leave tonight; school starts tomorrow. This deal came just in time.

Much has been written about the actual deal and whether it’s good for teachers, taxpayers and kids. All I know is that my nine-year-old, after seeing a headline announcing the six-year deal, blurted out, “You mean we might get to go to school for six years without a strike?”

Dare to dream, buddy. Dare to dream.

Since the two sides in this infernal teachers strike are still not speaking to each other (a plague on both their houses!), it’s fortunate that the kids and I are actually enjoying this homeschooling thing.

Seriously.

We’ve developed a groove: from 8:30 to 11:00 each day we go through lessons and activities related to language arts, science, math, and social studies, with a snack break and a “recess” mixed in. I’m totally winging it, but it seems to be going all right. So far, I’ve managed to keep them engaged with different math games, science experiments and educational videos, none of which I came up with on my own (what did people do before the Internet?)

The point is not to cover the actual curriculum, though I do try to stay on that track. The real goal is to have structure and routine, and to keep our brains busy with something besides Pokemon. I’ve sort of figured out what works (starting the day with their weakest subject so they’re fresh) and what doesn’t (expecting them to do nothing but worksheets all morning), and I’ve even had a few unsolicited compliments from the students themselves. Yay me.

Tomorrow we’re doing a field trip, not because of its educational value, but because Professor Mom needs to get out of the &$!@ house. We’re meeting a few other families at a pioneer ranch about an hour from here. We’re all pretty excited at the chance to be with other people.

We’d be even more excited if the schools would open. Just sayin’.

Let’s recap, shall we?

• Days since school was in session: 86
• School days lost to the strike: 16
• Bargaining sessions scheduled: 0

Oy. If anyone had told me, way back last spring, that my kids were about to go 86 straight days without school, I would’ve laughed. I would not have believed that the powers that be could allow such a thing to happen. I would have assumed that all involved would realize the effect this would have on the half-million kids in this province who rely on public education to give them the knowledge and skills needed to contribute to a healthy democratic society. And when the last two weeks of the school year got erased in June, I figured the two sides would use the summer months to cool off, man up and hammer out a deal.

But I was wrong.

I know there are important principles involved. I know there are passionate advocates on both sides. And I know there are no easy solutions.

But at this point, I don’t even care who “wins.” I just want my kids to be able to go to school.

SOON.

With no teacher training whatsoever, I am attempting to provide a stimulating educational experience for my kids while this strike drags on. On the very first morning, I freely admitted to the boys that I don’t know everything, that we’re all kind of feeling our way through this, and that we can always turn to Google if we get stumped (which we did in Justin’s very first vocabulary lesson — speaking as a highly trained communications professional, why does anyone need to know about irregular vowel sounds? But I digress.)

My class composition: a gifted nine-year-old with Asperger’s who would finish a year’s worth of workbooks in an hour if I’d let him but who falls apart if he gets even one answer wrong; and an active seven-year-old who loves to read but hates to write and whose favorite part of the curriculum is the DPA (that’s Daily Physical Activity, when we spend half an hour jumping on the trampoline or playing Twister or whatever).

I was expecting to maybe spend 20 minutes on worksheets each day and call it done, but the boys surprised me by wanting to keep going, so I’ve had to plan out lessons to cover the entire morning (well, not the ENTIRE morning: Justin was raring to go at 7:00 on Tuesday and I persuaded him to wait until 8:30.) I’ve come up with some math games that seem to be a hit, the kids have been pretty good about doing their reading comprehension worksheets, and our interactive globe has been a great help with our social studies unit. I’m skipping the arts and health components of the curriculum (pick your battles, right?) and I’ve been avoiding science, but we will start learning about states of matter tomorrow. Ugh.

But there’s a reason I didn’t become a teacher. I suck at it. I do love explaining things, but I prefer to do that by writing documents, not by standing in front of a group of kids. I was happy to be done with math and science decades ago; relearning the basics so I can pass them along to my kids is not my idea of a good time. And I strongly suspect the kids would behave differently for a teacher who wasn’t their mother.

But this, too, shall pass, right? RIGHT?

There are certain milestones that occur each year like clockwork: Halloween comes in October. Christmas is in December.

School starts in September.

Well, not this year. Not in BC. I’d give anything to be wrong, but it looks like our kids won’t be back in class for many, many moons. They may well grow out of their back-to-school clothes before they ever get a chance to wear them.

I won’t go into the politics of the thing. Frankly, I’m not feeling the love for either side right now. Instead of shopping for backpacks and planning bag lunches, I’m buying educational workbooks and designing a learning schedule. Years ago I saw a poster of a mom playing with her baby that read: “You are their first and favorite teacher.” I may have been their first, but no way am I their favorite. If I have to keep up the homeschooling thing for too long, we’ll all end up in therapy.

And $40 a day won’t cover that.

This is the 75th straight day of no school. Even if by some miracle the new year starts on schedule next week, the kids will have been out of class for 80 straight days. You know how many things can be forgotten in 80 days? I can barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning. We’ve been playing Yahtzee to practise math, and using our interactive globe to practise geography, and reading lots of books to practise literacy…but I’m so done. These guys need to get back to school. Or at the very least, they need to get AWAY FROM ME.

I’m not the only one who’s had enough of the extended break. Justin’s been talking about wanting to go back for a couple weeks now. Brayden’s looking forward to seeing all his friends again. Heaven knows, if this strike drags on much longer, we won’t be friends with each other anymore.

Phileas Fogg went around the world in 80 days; I’m about to go round the bend. Here’s hoping they settle this thing soon.