The downward spiral

Tough morning. I believed DJ when he said he wouldn't be sad when I left if I came on only part of his field trip, so I stopped in at the Whitaker Center, anticipating that I could tag along with the group, sit with them while they ate lunch, etc. (We have a membership, so I get in free). Unfortunately, by the time I got there, they had already finished lunch, were moving on from the exhibits to the IMAX, which I wasn't prepared to stay for, having brought neither my free IMAX pass nor put enough money in the parking meter. (It was also immediately apparent when I arrived that additional, uninvited chaperones were not within the museum coordinator's plans). DJ got sad, I tried to leave, he followed me, I got angry and embarrassed, he begged to come home with me, I wavered briefly, then straightened and left. Completely disgruntled, I held it together until I passed the Commonwealth Connections cyberschool bus parked outside the Whitaker Center. The spiral quickened, going somethign like this. [Be warned, what follows is neither rational nor coherent, but that's the way the spiral works.]

He's clearly not having a good time at school. He feels like a social outcast, and told me just the other day that he only has one friend--all the other kids "hate" him and are mean to him. (He later amended that statement to say that 3 kids hate him and are mean to him, the others just don't want to be his friend.) He's not advancing as quickly/far as I think I could, not enthusiasitc about learning. And he wants to be at home (at least at this minute). What's so wrong with that? He often asks if I could sleep in his bed (or he in mine)--attachment parenting would say he needs more time with his mom, that if I don't provide that now, he'll look for love in the wrong ways/places in the future. He would love to be homeschooled or cyberschooled (I don't think he knows the latter exists--we've tried to keep him in the dark about it, because of course he would be thrilled to find out that he could do school on the computer--what could be better?!). But I can't homeschool--I'm not a teacher, I have two other kids, and I have a farm to run. And what's the point of living in the city if you pull back from all the places where you could interact with people different from you? Of course, I'm not doing very much of that now, anyway. We could do cyberschool him (I'm more comfortable with computer learning in grades 3-8 for some reason), but then Marina would lose her automatic placement to Sylvan Heights, and I certainly can't teach her how to read and she's too young for cyberschool. It could give me more flexibility--we could do violin lessons during the day, and not rush around in the evenings so much. The kids could be at home in the morning and go to afterschool programs while I work on the farm, and do summer camps. But how in the world would I juggle all that and the farm and still put dinner on the table every night?? But if I were a really good mother, I'd put my desires aside and focus on my kids. Someone else can do the farm; I'm the only mother for my kids. And this is the wall I keep running into, the pit I keep falling into, the place I get stuck: that I don't know what's best for my family or how to balance my ideals with the constraints of reality. I can't figure out why this triggers such intense feelings of sadness and hopelessness in me.

But I can't spend any more time thinking about it--Marina's been playing pokemon for more than an hour. On the bright side, Havah started saying "ma ma" yesterday, and though I know it's a sound not a title, I still smile to hear it.