This was taken 6 years ago, on a camping trip in the Petén jungle. We had just (barely) survived a major hurricane at home, and a change in scene was much needed.
We swam with crocodiles (well, the crocs swam at night and we stuck to daytime swimming), saw lots of monkeys, and climbed to the tops of Mayan temples.
This was a couple of years before I would enroll him in the school he would attend for k-2. The first year, he spent 3 hours a day at school, then it was 6.5 hours a day. If I add it all up, and divide by 24, he spent 120 days there. 120 days away from us.
I try hard to not regret. It's a terrible feeling to have. I try to look upon even my most terrible decisions and appreciate the lessons that came with them. But I do regret having missed out on so much during those years of my son's life. It's the one thing that makes me wish I could turn back the hands of time. So if I could go back and change one thing, I would have kept him home, even if it meant that we could only do one hour of homeschooling a day, or unschooling all day. Or whatever, as long as we were together. And everyday, since we started school at home, I have been thankful that not one day more went by.
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