I have a fantasy of interviewing Terry Gross, the host of the radio show Fresh Air. When I envision the interview, it’s a pivotal moment in my life and it takes me to the next level in my Talk Show Host journey. It is clear, in this fantasy conversation, that she and I are on equal ground. The New York Times later proclaims: “Caity McCardell is The West Coast Terry Gross.”

In my fantasy, I ask her probing, intimate, interesting questions. She’s comfortable and honest and tells stories she’s never told before – all because of my incredible interviewing skills. She laughs and blushes. I can feel the energy of who she truly is coming out, her essence spilling out between us, caught like a vacuum by the microphone and pouring out into the airwaves, into the ears and consciousness of the millions of people listening right then in that moment. There are tears and there is laughter. The eyes of listeners – talent agents, New York Times journalists, radio show producers, that girl who teased me in 6th grade – well up with emotion.

Terry and I easily perform the interview dance, like two people at a party holding each other on the dance floor. I conversationally guide her by the waist and she soars through the air. At one point she looks at me thoughtfully and says, “that’s a great question.”

There’s a moment in the interview when I pause with an interviewers internal debate: should I review what she just said and take it deeper or move on to my next question? Instantly, I know to go deeper. I think, “I’m Caity The-Deeper-The-Better McCardell” and I smile to myself at this. She later comments, “when I first interviewed a famous person I couldn’t smile – I was so nervous. You’re amazingly confident.”

The fantasy ends with me walking her out into the lobby. I move to shake her hand and she refuses, holding out her arms for a hug. She says, “let’s do this again,” and, unlike most famous people, she means it.

Stefan, Colin and I had a conversation last month that ended with a decision. Colin would stop going to school. He wasn’t happy in class, we didn’t see a match between Colin and the formal school environment, and we wanted him to have lots of time to explore interests without timelines. The plan: withdraw from school and indulge in violin, reading, aikido, nature class, random math when the interest strikes.

When he stopped going to school, the first thing Colin did was take off his shoes. The second thing he did was sleep in. Then he started playing his violin. And playing it some more, sometimes for four hours at a time.

Sometimes he walks casually up to Stefan’s guitar and plays Harry Potter riffs on it while it’s still upright in the stand. He pets the cats and folds the laundry, plays Minecraft and makes himself a snack. Right now we’re on the couch together – I’m writing while he watches Mythbusters.

Colin attends my Kid Connection radio show recordings. He sits in a booth with headphones on, absorbing everything my guests say. We go to the dog park with Nigel, both of them getting to know local canines who hang there. Colin spends time with his grandma, gardening, cooking and getting to know her more. He chills out with his dad. He was promoted to Junior class in his aikido dojo, and his sensei asked him to continuing attending Pre-junior classes as well to act as her assistant.

He and I went to the vet today to get our cat’s anal glands cleaned. They just don’t teach that in schools these days.

Frankly, we don’t care about curriculum. Stefan and I know that Colin will learn what he needs to learn, and he’ll pursue educational opportunities in his own time with coaching from us and from mentors and teachers in his life.

We’ve homeschooled before, so we have a connection with that community, but Colin isn’t missing friends and group activities. There are two homeschooled neighbors who are great friends, and Colin has six other friends here in Tierra Nueva cohousing. This isn’t a child missing connections with kids. He craves uninterrupted focus time.

I sound confident. I am not. Not a day goes by that I don’t think, “shit, are we going to regret this?” What if my child loses out on opportunities or isn’t prepared for some unknown future expectation?

But I remind myself that I trust the process, I value homeschooling, we’re not alone, this is not forever, and – most of all – I honor Colin. We know that, at least for now, this is what he needs. I am so grateful that our family has the flexibility to listen to our children’s preferences.

I recently spent a week with my friend Vanessa Rodriguez, her boyfriend (Shacky), our fun-loving friend (Pat Sweeney) and Vanessa and Shacky’s dog (Ginger). Their presence brought a lightness to our home, my children loved hanging with them, and their energy inspired me to greatness.

Here’s a video of them talking about their time here in my town, Oceano, California, and their exciting plans for the future!

You will LOVE Vanessa’s hair!