I had the best day. I had such a good day that I am hesitant to blog about it because misery loves company but who wants to read about happy?
But here goes anyway. This was our first day of school. I was utterly, totally, could-not-be-more-thoroughly burned out on homeschooling last spring, and it was surprising to feel my enthusiasm building again over the summer, like a resilient petunia recovering after an 8yo boy lands squarely on top of it.
I didn't know what it would be like teaching two, since this is Marty's kindergarten year. I didn't know how much of our trouble last year was because of me and how much was because of my firstborn and how much was because we are so cut from the same cloth that sometimes sparks fly when we're together. That is a terrible mixed metaphor but I am leaving it alone in the interest of speed. If ever sparks flew while I was sewing with two pieces cut from the same cloth, I would speed back to the fabric store, you betcha. With kids, though, you do the best you can with the fabric you're handed.
Did I say recently, or was it in a post that I ended up deleting unfinished, that I had decided to be much more structured this year? Inspired by Mother's Rule of Life, I made up a schedule that has the two older boys working hard for most of the morning. At the same time, I am giving my older son more independent assignments this year. Three times today, I said, "You need to have this finished by the end of August. You set the pace. I'll check back in with you and see how it's going."
It could be a terrible idea. He seems to like it, though, here on day 1.
I find a lot to like in The Well-Trained Mind, although it's a little too workbooky for me, and I am using Story of the World as our primary history text this year. We're starting with Queen Victoria and the British Empire, so I'm augmenting history lessons with stories from that era: "Rikki-Tikki-Tavi" today (a big hit), and A Little Princess is in the library basket as well.
Marty warms up slowly to new things and I was not expecting him to be enthusiastic about school. I was wrong. "This is the funnest school I ever went to!" he said. "This is great!"
We walked to the park in the afternoon, and just as we arrived Joe announced, "I need to use the bathroom." (New development -- he's out of diapers as of a couple of weeks ago although ARGH I forgot to send him to the bathroom before bed.) Another mother was walking up with her two kids at just the same time and I said, "There's not a bathroom nearby, is there?" (I said this knowing there wasn't, and wondering if Joe would be willing to pee in the bushes, and observing to myself that I really shouldn't have drunk a liter bottle of water before going to a park with no bathroom...)
And she said -- I still can't believe this -- "No, but my house is up the alley. I can't walk with you because I'm short on time but you can go and I'll watch the baby. It's open."
!!!
I took the two younger ones and she stayed with the two older ones after I told them what was going on. (And in hindsight I'm surprised I did that -- I guess she and I just felt comfortable with each other off the bat.) We came back, much relieved, and she and I chatted for a while. On the walk home two friends, driving by in opposite directions, called out greetings as they passed us. It made me feel so settled here.
They had requested pizza for dinner, so when we walked in the door I set to work on the dough. "You can make pizza?" they said. "Could we have this every week?" It is exceedingly rare for me to get an enthusiastic response at the dinner table, so you can bet I said yes. I went into the kitchen to serve the older two a third helping and Marty said, "Mom rocks."
After dinner we went out for ice cream; we prayed Evening Prayer when we came home. During the intercessions we were giving thanks for people in our lives and Marty said, "Thank you, God, for Mom."
And you know, I am hesitating to post those two quotes because TOOT-TA-TOOT behold me blowing my own horn, or at least telling you about someone blowing my horn most euphoniously, but oh well. Motherhood is not a job in which people pour gratitude on your head. (Vomit on it, yes. But "Thank you, Mom, for cleaning my vomit out of your hair without complaining" is not a sentence springing from my children's lips). On most days the number of body fluids I am wearing by lunchtime is higher than the number of enthusiastic comments I hear in a week about life with me as the mom. So hey -- I'll blog about it today.
Pete is restless and my husband just came home, so I am going to publish without further editing. Hope you had a lovely day too.
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