Option One:
Move Cupcake to a gifted program, either in a public school where she'd be singled out taken out of class a few times a week for personalized tutoring, or in a self-contained program where all the students yuk it up together over quantum physics jokes follow an accelerated curriculum.
Let me just say -- BLECH to both options, since either would necessitate contending with a kid who liked her friends and her school (except for the frustrating and boring part). I sensed it was fairly unlikely I could convince her that her school that had just been repainted... and renamed... and relocated... and repopulated.
Still, I had to explore all the options at once because I had no way of knowing which might flop and which might pay off.
In April I called the administrator of one of these programs to arrange a tour and learned that I was calling WAY too late in the season to have ANY hope of acceptance, there were NO spaces available, NOR would there be, as students simply NEVER withdrew from this PRESTIGIOUS program once accepted, and she wouldn't even CONSIDER allowing me to apply until AUTUMN.
Now, I recognize that this lady gets daily calls from parents who insist that their itsy-bitsy phenomena would be an asset to any educational program. I realize that every potential student has x-ray vision that can melt away cellulite while giving a nice, even tan; or can recite Pi to 100,000 digits forwards and backwards in Aramaic; or can construct a working model of the USS Constitution out of matchsticks, dryer lint and maple syrup. I get it. I get that she's the gatekeeper for a program pursued by maniacal parents convinced that their children will develop a cure for tone deafness or homesickness before the age of 17.
But I also know that, should Cupcake have been admitted to her precious program, this sentry lady would have instantly transformed into my bestest friend ever, inviting me over to enjoy a Nehi or YooHoo, house sitting when I traveled, and offering valuable advice on what to wear to the next American Idol concert.
Meanwhile, I had to scramble to get my ducks in a row before the beginning of the next school year. If Cupcake was going to have to be relocated I was going to need to know that and prepare for it before the Gatekeeper started offering tours in the fall.
So. Transferring to a different school. Can't even begin to apply until next fall. Meanwhile, Cupcake frazzles herself daily.
Tune in next time for: Home Schooling?
Spoiler Alert: No Way.
