Public schools, budge up.
They aren't the only ones buried in records.
Manitoba wants a notification in September and two progress reports a year. Nobody's going to pretend that's fun. But it can take minutes instead of a whole Saturday.
“The form is open. It's 11pm. And last September is a complete blur.”
You know the year was good. You were there for it. But now you have to prove it in writing, and all you've got is your memory and a box of crafts.
You already did the work.
You just didn't write it down. That's the only thing we're asking you to change.
Thirty seconds, on your phone
"Read two chapters of Charlotte's Web, measured the garden beds." Typed standing at the counter. That's the whole task.
Log once for every child
You baked together, so all four learned fractions. One entry, four records.
The photo is the proof
The volcano. The finished chapter book. The bug collection. Snap it and it's filed.
Your words, in Manitoba's order
Your entries laid out the way the province's own form asks for them. You read it, you fix it, you send it.
It isn't paperwork. It's your kids' year.
The frozen lake in February. The month he read nothing but horse books. That deserves better than something rushed the night before it's due — and at the end of it you get a real record, in your own words.
Families who join now decide what gets built next.
We prepare your answers; you submit them to Manitoba yourself. Nothing is sent to the province on your behalf. Manitoba requires no particular curriculum and no standardized testing — you teach your own way.