It was one thing for me to think that, but I didn’t want to hear that from someone else, especially my mom.
Pleading I told her, “Please don’t say that.”
“It doesn’t sound good, Kari,” she said definitively.
I didn’t want to say something I would regret. “Okay, I have to go.”
It was 9:45 A.M., and I was still in my pajamas. He’d beaten me. I hoped I wouldn’t be running around naked the next day. I decided we had to get out of the house. Think, Kari! Where could we go? It took another cup of coffee to jog my memory of something Kathy had said: “Thorin’s interests should direct what you learn.” It was as if I had been visited by the hologram of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
I walked into Thorin’s room and found him dressed in pajamas.
“Did you know there’s a monster museum in town?”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Yeah?”
“No, really. It’s called the International Cryptozoology Museum, which basically means monsters.”
“Yesith!”
“They have a rule: everyone wears clothes.”
“Sure!”
When we walked into the museum, it was indeed filled with monsters. A replica of Big Foot was just inside the doorway. An attractive woman who looked to be in her thirties with black hair, made-up eyes, and tattoos came over to us.
“Hello! Welcome! I’m Jenny, and that’s my husband, Loren. We run the museum!”
“Hi! We’re homeschoolers!”
“We love homeschoolers!”
“Wow!” I exclaimed.
“Wow!” Jenny added.
Even Thorin joined the exclamation party. “Wow!”
Jenny was born to be an educator. She exuded enthusiasm in everything she shared with us about the exhibits. Among three packed rooms, we saw hair from an Abominable Snowman, Yeti scat, and a doll made to look like a Sasquatch baby. Thorin was entranced with the museum and Jenny.
“I’m so glad we came here!” I said.
“I’m glad, too! You’re both so lucky getting to learn together all day. If we had a child, I would homeschool.”
I forgot there were people who wanted to be home with their children all day. I had never been that person. As Thorin was looking at the Minnesota Ice Man, Jenny came up to me with a T-shirt from their gift store.
“Can I give this to Thorin?”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I wanted to make sure it was okay first. I love how excited he is to learn.”
“Of course! We were supposed to come here today!”
“I know!”
As we left, I got another idea. The front part of the building was the Green Hand Bookshop.
“Thorin you want to go into this bookstore? They have the coolest stuff. Maybe you could find a book you like.”
“Sure!”
We found the children’s section. Thorin was pulling out books right and left. He found one on Frankenstein and went off to sit in an overstuffed chair for further examination. I found a small book with the title A Ghost Named Fred. Thorin loved ghost stories. I was surprised to see it was by Nathaniel Benchley. It was an “I Can Read Book” from 1968. I hadn’t flipped through any of the pages but I loved it.
“Thorin! Look at this one! A Ghost Named Fred! It’s by Nathaniel Benchley! He wrote the Off Islanders! His son wrote Jaws!”
Waving me off, he said, “No.”
“Bubba loves Nathaniel Benchley!”
“Let’s see,” he said skeptically.
We sat together on the chair going from page to page.
“Yes?”
“Yesith. This, too?” he said holding up the Frankenstein book.
“Yes!”
I couldn’t wait to tell Ward and my mom about the day. I rode that high all the way until the next morning when Thorin came to the dining room, naked, and informed me, “No school!”
The next morning as I lay in bed thinking about my day, I felt tears. When I heard Thorin’s voice from the other room, I started crying. I then counted how many hours before I could go back to bed. I called my mom.
“Can I bring him there?”
“For how long?”
“I’ll come back before he turns ten.”
I needed help. I emailed Kathy, the cofounder of HOME, when I got back to our place.
Thorin says no to everything. [I decide not to divulge the nudity.] It is day five of refusing and arguing, and I hit a wall. I want this to work. I think he is exercising his independence. And I want to send him to military school today. That is sort of a joke. Ha, ha. I am hoping I am not the worst homeschooling mother ever. Help! Thank you, Kari
Seventeen minutes later—I couldn’t help staring at the clock—I received a response from Kathy.
Hi Kari, How old is Thorin? I would suggest that you give me a call, so that we can talk this through. It could be a number of things. I would be happy to help!
We scheduled a call for that afternoon.
“What do you think the problem is, Kari?”
Shades of The Pee Whisperer emerged.
“Me.”
“I’m glad you see it that way.”
I filled her in on the details, including how I had always worked outside the home before beginning to homeschool.
“Oh! You two are experiencing a huge life transition. I wouldn’t focus on curriculum right now.”
“What do I do with him all day?”
“Cuddling on the couch and reading is always fun.”
Cuddle on the couch? I don’t know how much of that I did before. And, he’d have to wear clothes for me to entertain that idea.
“Okay,” I said as I wrote it down. “What else?”
“How about cooking?”
“Huh, well, I don’t cook. Ward cooks.”
“Oh, my. Thorin needs to learn how to cook. Don’t you want him to be capable and independent?”
She was right! And, I don’t think she was talking just about a kid with Down syndrome.
“I guess we could learn together?” I offered, feigning enthusiasm.
“There you go! That would be good for both of you,” Kathy responded with actual enthusiasm.
“Okay, I can do that,” my voice sounded more confident. “Anything else?” I almost sounded cheery.
“How about cleaning together? You do know all this is learning, right?”
“Okay! I like that!” I succeeded in actual enthusiasm.
“Focus on what Thorin likes. The monster museum was a good idea.”
I thought to myself as Kathy kept talking, Thank you, Obi-Wan!
Kathy also suggested
