Sometimes, Uniform Isn't

My three little square pegs are going to have to make their own holes, I'm afraid.

He is actually wearing his uniform in this picture.  He is just wearing it with pajama bottoms, external underwear, and sunglasses.  The sunglasses are tucked in the underwear, in case you missed it.

At the beginning of the school year, I went and outfitted my children with uniforms.  Why?  Because it saved money.  And, time.  And, laundry.  But mostly because they were adorable.  Nothing is cuter than a three-year-old girl in a skort.

I know it is a little silly to have homeschool kids wear uniforms, but it worked for us.  I use the past tense because we haven't really followed through.

The uniforms attracted attention, and, understandably, questions.  Not malicious; just curious.  People wanted to know, "Are they in private school...a club...a cult?"  "No.  They're all mine.  They're homeshooled," was my usual, smiling reply.

Then one day, at the park, a retired gentleman sitting on a bench asked me, "Do you run a special school?"  As I prepared to give some variation of my standard answer, I turned to gaze lovingly at my children.  Jonah was prone in the middle of the play ground with his face pressed against the recycled-atheltic-shoe-rubber matting, because it felt warm.  Sam was trying to ride his scooter backwards, hindered greatly by the Captain America shield he had strapped to the bottom of his foot.  And, Cate was licking the slide.  It occurred to me, maybe the gentleman on the bench was not asking about the uniforms.

But the real down fall of the uniform, was this boy.

The benefits to me did not out weigh the struggle with him.

So now, when you see us in the park, I am indeed running a special school.  But, we won't be wearing uniforms.  Matching clothes just attract unnecessary attention.