Home School vs. Public School.... Fight!

Typically, I tend to post experiences that happen to me which I find funny, but I've decided that my this page will be about life in general, from the funny to the tragic.  And so, with that in mind, here we go. Please don't hold this against me.

A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook  after reading a blog posting from an anti-home school individual.  She was quite frustrated with the arguments posted, since she was home schooled and is currently a home schooling mom.  This  issue has generated a heated debate from those who support home schooling and those who think public school is the best option.  Personally I can see benefits and disadvantages to each side.

To give you an idea of where I'm coming from, I was home schooled for a single year of my life.  Eighth grade to be exact.  I was living with my grandparents in Upstate New York (which for those of you who aren't from that area, is any area within the state lines that that is not part of New York City proper.  I'm just sayin'...  Also, for the record, why do you have to towns in the same state called Aurora? Isn't that confusing? Anyhow, I'm going of the subject) and my Grandma didn't want me to go to public school since she felt it would expose me to drugs and sex and other immoral teachings, which as a public school student, I had already learned by the 5th grade!

And so the journey began.  I lived with my grandparents on a 40 acre lot and had my social interactions with kids my age during church and scouting events.  To be honest, it did get kind of lonely, since I was used to the socializing that I normally had at a public school.  Let's be honest, social interaction isn't why we send our kids off to school.  School is supposed to be an institution for learning.  I really wasn't doing much of that at a public school, because I found what they were teaching boring, repetitious and beneath what I already knew.

My grandma would go to the public school district and get the books for the required curriculum and bring them home for me to study, and study I did!  In the course of eight months, I went through what would take a public school 4 years to complete.

To be fair, you have to admit that public schools take longer because they have to set up meetings for concerts, or PTA events or parent-teacher conferences, whereas home school kids don't have parent-teacher conferences unless their parents have some form of Multiple Personality Disorder or a severe case of schizophrenia and then it just looks like they're talking to either themselves or an imaginary friend.

When I "finished" the eighth grade, I went back to High School and to be honest, I struggled.  I know what you anti-home schoolers are thinking, but you're wrong.  My struggles weren't due to improper presentation of subject matter, or difficulty learning of the material, or knowing proper social etiquette.  I have moved around enough to be able to adapt to social hierarchies just fine, thank you.  I struggled because of how BORING public school was.

With home school, I was free to learn and focus on specific subjects and was required to learn the few I didn't like.  Jumping ahead was not required, but I was given the choice.  In public school, I was constantly getting in trouble for reading ahead and not following along at the same pace as the rest of the class.  Was it my fault that they couldn't read as fast as I could?  No, and I don't think its proper to punish a child for excelling.  I finished high school with a 3.0 grade point average (out of 4.0), which isn't bad, but its not the best I could have done, it was just the best I could have done under the demeaning circumstances.  That, I think, sums up public education.

To each their own.  Each child is different and learns in different ways.  When I have children, I'll decide what I feel is in their best interest.  In my opinion, education shouldn't have to be in a drill instructor format. Its something that should be done in the course of a lifetime.  Every day occurrences should be a teaching moment.  Places you go should have something educational as well as fun activities.  The important thing is that our children (which some day I hope to have) know the things necessary to become good stewards of this earth. So, when they finally leave our home to become men and women, we as parents can say, "I did the best I could do, and I'm happy with the result".


(The blogs for both sides can be seen here, if you are interested:  The Case Against Homeschooling.  The rebuttal for the benefit of the home schooled can be found here: I Only Home School to Piss Off Other People: Part 1 and here: I Only Home School to Piss Off Other People: Part 2  aaaand here: Just kidding!)

Come Here You Son of a..... Shut yo' mouf!

I've worked a lot of phone jobs and it probably isn't known to the public, but when you are on hold, in most cases, we can hear you on the other end.  It can be quite funny and also disturbing at times.

Probably the two incidents that I can recall that stick out as funny to me, happened within 6 months from now.  The first was a caller who had a question about their account and when I put them on hold, you could hear the customer yelling at her kids (either that or some other type of interaction was going on that I don't want to know about).   You could hear her yell, "Shut up!  Get on da' bed.  Shut yo' mouf."

When you hear this, its hard to not laugh. 

To make matters worse, I recently took a call from a customer who asked to be transferred to the OB/GYN Department and just as I'm about to transfer her, you hear her say in a loving tone, "Come here, you son of a ________ (make an educated guess and fill it in as you see fit)."  I don't know who she was speaking to, but it did make me laugh.

To the public who make these phone calls, I thank you.  You make my job worthwhile and entertaining.

(This post meets the HIPAA guidelines, as it is generalized and does not disclose patient's personalization.)

Live The Dream

Do you remember back in high school and junior high when they would have career days and you would have doctors, lawyers, firemen, police officers, and so on come in and give a presentation about why their job is so awesome?  I would come home from school and proclaim that when I grew up "I want to be a fireman" or "I want to be Cookie Monster", which in my mind, would be the greatest job ever.  Can you imagine getting paid to eat cookies?

But no where in those presentations do I remember someone from the local cab drivers union coming in and talking about how great their job is.  Well, imagine my surprise when I drove past a cab the other day and it had a sign on it that said, "Now hiring cabbies.  LIVE THE DREAM".

I don't know about you, but when I was a kid, I never once said, "When I grow up, I want to be a cab driver."  Now that may be different if you were a kid growing up in maybe Pakistan, but here in the United States of America, we live in a land of opportunity.

So after reading that sign and letting out a good chuckle.....

I called the number and applied for the job.

Ripped One (No, the title isn't what you think)

I'm starting to believe that Murphy is one of the friends that nobody in the group really likes and that he's constantly hanging around me, pushing his law into my life.

Note to self:  Figure out how to get this Murphy Monkey off my back.

Since Spring has officially started, and the Home Owners Association (which I sarcastically refer to as, the Home Nazi Association) is breathing down my neck to mow the lawn, I decided to drag out the ol' lawnmower and go a few rounds around the house. 

I pushed the primer button 5 times even though 3 is the recommended number, then pressed it 5 more times, just for good measure.  Then, I yanked the starter cord as hard as I could.  Now, anyone who has ever mowed a lawn before can tell you that the first 3 to 5 pulls on the cord are just warm-ups and that the lawnmower never starts during those pulls.  So, I continued to pull and pull and pull and..... Whew!  I was exhausted from pulling that thing over 25 times.  Still nothing. 

I went inside and asked my dad if he would be willing to give it a try, so Dad went outside and yanked it once...  SNAP!!!  The cord broke an inch from the motor.  In essence, this was a pickle jar incident.  I loosened up the jar enough for my dad to open it, but this wasn't a rewarding incident.  As a result, I had to take apart the motor in an effort to try and reattach the cord to the motor.  For over 45 minutes, I could not get the cord to go through the hole necessary in order to reattach the starter cord to the engine. 

I gave up, which isn't like me when it comes to mechanics (just ask my fiance).  So, if anyone wants a lawnmower, I now have one for sale.  I'll sell it to ya for $20 bucks.  You'll just have to get the starter cord replaced.

Wendy's incident

So, the other day I went to Wendy's and next to the ordering screen at the drive-thru, there was a sign that said, "Due to bad weather and a horrible season in Florida, tomatoes will not be used with your order unless requested."

This was a miracle to me! Every time I go to a restaurant, I always have to take the gamble of requesting that tomatoes and onions be withheld from my burger and that the person handling my food doesn't give me a spit-burger.

I was so excited, that night I knelt down and prayed to let the horrible season and bad weather in Florida continue forever so that I can eat my burger in peace, knowing that no one has spit on it.

I know what you're thinking. Its wrong of me to pray for something so frivolous, but in my opinion, its the little things that count the most.