I'm like Olivia, the pig. I can do a lot of things. But there are a hell of a lot more things that I can't do.

For instance, I can't fly without fear, speak in front of large crowds, cook artistically or drive an 18-wheeler (though I'd love to try). 

And I can't, under no circumstances, absolutely NO WAY! NO HOW! homeschool my children. 

By the time Esme returns to school this week, she'll have missed seven days of classes because of the back-to-back blizzards. We've filled the days with snow play, sledding, walks, dress-up, art projects, books, indoor races, hide-and-seek, making treats, eating treats, fighting, cleaning, imagining. 

But, she needs to go back to school. I want her to go back to school. I'm just not capable of engaging her academically for an entire day. Josephine and Desmond only go to preschool three days a week - three hours at a time - but even they need something more than I'm able to give. 

Here's the problem: I lack the inspiration, the creativity and most especially, the energy to keep them as interested - as entertained - as their teachers do.

I can do it for summer vacation. Or the Christmas holiday. Happily. And even with a sense of great sadness when the break ends. But I can't fathom the idea of spending all day, every day, all year for the next 16 years with all four of my kids. Just trying to imagine the idea makes my eyes bleed and my brain melt. 

If that's terrible, I'll cop to terrible...

Read the rest at Feast After Famine.