Movin' Right Along (doog-a-doon, doog-a-doon)

Tomorrow is (hopefully) the big day--we drive away, "amuck in America," for a little over a month. The reason I am hopeful, and not certain, is that I am looking at the mountain of stuff on my bed waiting to be packed yet, and Doug has not even begun packing the camping gear. I don't even know if he has found it all in the underbelly of our house. And the house is filthy, since I have spent the last couple of weeks sorting, doing laundry, shopping, and wrapping up all kinds of loose ends in anticipation of our lengthy trip. And the more stuff you get piled around the tiny house, waiting to be packed, the less room you have to clean in! So I am hoping to be able to finish packing tonight and then get the girls to help me with a quick Spring cleaning.

So many things to do! So many details you can't overlook! (I am sure I will think of even more, retrospectively)

One of the things I did today that I had purposefully put off until the last minute was tell M's school that she would be missing the last two weeks of school. I should back up and say that I am really scared of Mrs. Higgenbotham, the principal, and twice when we have been walking to school a few minutes late, the bell has rung and the last stragglers are going to their classes (California schools have no interior hallways, so I walk her to her classroom door) and Mrs. H is standing looking sternly at us stragglers and I find myself pretending to be engaged in cheerful conversation with M so I can turn my head away and pretend I don't see her and I am not shrinking from guilt and fear she is going to speak to me and chastise me.

And I am also a little mad at Mrs. H, because of the generally rude way the school is run, in my opinion. It seems like all Mrs. H cares about is getting all the state school funds, and so when you have a kid out sick for an extended period, you don't hear concern for the well-being of the child, you hear nagging about how the child should be in school. Becky knows what I am talking about. So when M was sick for a few days about a month ago, I did not bother to tell the school. M's kindergarten teacher is really great, but I have heard she is not careful about taking attendance. And I figured that if I did not happen to tell the school we were gone, and Mrs. R the teacher did not happen to notice, then maybe the school would not happen to notice either, and they could keep their funding for M for that day and everyone would be happy. Or at least none the wiser. The school never called me, so I figured all was working according to plan. Until I got a form letter last week from the school telling me to report to the principal to explain the absences, and threatening to report me to the truancy office and give me a fine.

A form letter. No one from the school (there are two secretaries) bothered to call our home to ask why M was not in school, but they took time and precious school funds to mail a rude letter to my home.

I was fuming for a while, until I realized: it is nothing personal. Literally. They do not care why M was not in school, and were just doing the minimum of contact the state requires when a child is truant.

So I was not looking forward to telling the school that we were pulling M out for the rest of the school year. Technically you are not supposed to be able to do it, and students can be held back if they miss too many days of school. But this is to protect kids from parents who just don't care about their education--I know for a fact that M will be getting MUCH more learning on the road with us during the next two weeks then she would get at school, since the last couple of weeks are just one big kinder playdate. With lots of videos. Again, Becky knows what I am talking about. So it bugs me that we could actually get in trouble with the school system for giving our daughter an amazing, hugely educational month because we are not following the rules--the whole spirit of the law versus the letter of the law thing.

I had asked M's teacher for advice on how to tell the school, and she said I should just say M was sick. "Not that I am saying that you should lie," she said, "Except. . . I guess I am saying that." But I did not want to lie, so I typed out a brief letter to the school explaining that we were leaving the state and "unavoidable ciscumstances" (i.e. a wedding in Chicago the day after the last day of classes in CA) were forcing us to complete M's year while on the road.

Let's see what kind of letter they send me this time.

I took my letter in to the secretary with a big smile, and acted like all was well, leaving, of course, before she could open it. But as I drove the van away, I suddenly had the feeling like I was fleeing, pursued by a pack of yowling hounds. . . We are SO out of there. Literally--M will be joining her older sister at "The Redwood Academy" (the offical name of our home school) next year. : )

Movin' right along, foot-loose and fancy free.
Gettin' there is half the fun; come share it with me.
Movin' right along (doog-a-doon, doog-a-doon)
We'll learn to share the load.
We don't need a map to keep this show on the road.

Movin' right along we found a life on the highway,
And your way is my way, so trust my navigation.