Even on the Hard Days

 

Yesterday my fingers flew across the keyboard in homeschool happiness and bliss.  I chronicled a lifestyle that I have chosen and love and in my evening eyes I was pleased. Today whacked me in the face like a stack of books swung by an angry 8^th grader.

Let me be frank. It didn’t start well. I allowed some screen time which led to some not great behavior. I talked too long on the phone with my mom. I made a concession for one child that disrupted another. There was poop on the deck. Water on the floor. Text messages. Instant messages. Budget concerns. Tantrums over school work. A doctors appointment.

In the good moments I went roller blading with my older son. I gave my toddler a bath when he got  out of hand. I shoved my head in my blankets and screamed really loudly. Eventually, the school work did get done, although I forgot about an important lesson. I took a jog/walk. I didn’t eat the crust off the pizza. I ate a vegetable and a fruit. I also ate the popcorn and a handful of m&m’s. I didn’t drink the soda.

Why am I chronicling these details? Because yesterday’s post, while true, was also shrouded in the way I feel on the good days. Homeschooling/home parenting/child rearing is hard stuff. It’s day in and day out. It’s changing the plans. It’s giving someone extra grace. It’s giving yourself extra grace. It’s taking some unintended insults from your kiddos. It’s giving them some unsolicited advice, not always well received.

It’s extra hard. It’s extra worth it. It’s answering the question every day “Why do I work a job that doesn’t pay in money?” And even on this day, this extra hard day the answer is the same, “No amount of money is worth missing out on all that I would miss out on if this wasn’t my job.”

Blessings,

Brie

Homeschool Mama

 

I bought my first “homeschool mama” shirt the other day.  It arrived today and I laughed at myself that finally, after 9 years of homeschooling, I felt ready to get myself a shirt. I mean, why now? Why 9 years later do I finally feel comfortable in this homeschooling skin? 

Over the past 9 years I have doubted and struggled. Is this the right option? Is this the best option? Will my kids be okay? Are we learning enough? Are they learning at all?  We have done HSAP, co-ops, community groups, dual enrollment, therapies, tutoring, full time public schooling (that was a big deal), and back again. So why do I feel so confident here, in this? Because in all these years, I’ve discovered that they’re okay. They are learning. They are growing. 

My little girl with dyslexia, dysgraphia, and anxiety – she has learned how to write full papers.  My little girl with a language disorder – she is quickly conquering reading. My little boy with boundless energy – he is soaking up information like a sponge and repeating it back to me in striking detail.

We strive and we struggle. Some subjects come easy and we dance through the lessons, some subjects we hike through slowly but deliberately conquering the towering mountain before us.

I have seen post after post on social media the last few weeks, pictures and words detailing the exodus of children back to school. Parents cheering on their brave students as they enter back into their school buildings and breathing a sigh of relief that the difficult work of educating their energetic children rests in the capable hands of their teachers. Posts telling tired mamas to relax, breathe easy, drink some coffee, read a book – and I’ll admit, I have felt keenly the pangs of jealousy. My busy season is just beginning. There is little time now for long coffee breaks, book reading (beyond read-alouds for my kids), crocheting, or writing (a much missed past time).

But even through a little jealousy, I love teaching my kids. I love spending this precious time with them. I love watching my daughter conquer reading with squeals of delight. I love laughing and joking with my oldest while we work our way through Latin conjugations and pre-Algebra. I love when my son makes outrageous math problems for me to solve between his own, even though math is tricky for him. I love passing out play-doh to keep hands busy while I read out loud another book by Beverly Cleary. I love making a snack tray, and I love snuggling on the couch. I love making omelets and oatmeal and reluctantly making ramen.

Don’t get me wrong, there is a lot I could get done if I was only chasing a 2 year old around all day. Or, if I had time to run a side gig (from one of the numerous direct sales companies that I love) that brought us in some extra money. It’d be awesome to be able to clean everything myself, or exercise, or read a book, or crochet something. It’d be so cool if I could keep this house in order all day long and then give the kids 1 or 2 chores to do when they got home.

But that’s not the life I’ve chosen. I’ve chosen homeschool mama, which means I have my own unofficial full time job. It’s a full time job without a monetary paycheck. It pays in emotional satisfaction, sometimes frustration. It pays in my kids’ futures. It pays in joy. It pays in laughter. It pays in high fives, math jokes, Latin jokes, homeschooling jokes. It’s hard. But it’s so good.

I’m a homeschool mama.

Blessings,

Brie

Lessons from the soil part II

 I have a fern a friend gave me two years ago. I know it was two years ago because she gave it to me shortly after (or before? That whole spring is a blur) my toddler was born and I literally did nothing with it for weeks… maybe months.

Eventually I repotted it and decided to try and start taking care of it because miracle of miracles it was still alive. 😂 

For the past two years it has struggled and struggled some more. Mold would grow on the surface and I would scrape it off. Sometimes mix it in. Honestly I had no clue what I was doing. Eventually I asked my friend and she recommended I repot it with completely new soil and rinse off the roots to make sure I didn’t transplant any mold with it. 

Today I gently pulled the root ball out of the old pot. It was a huge tangled mess. I rinsed and tried to gently pull off broken pieces of rotten root ball. Eventually this is what I was left with: 

There are only a couple of roots attached to these 5 growing stems of leaves. I can see at the tips some healthy root growth beginning. 

2 years this fern has limped along, hiding under the contaminated soil rotten roots that were keeping it from thriving. 

How often does this happen to us humans? We have rotten roots hiding under the surface. We need the great Creator, the God of Heaven to reach into our lives and gently pull out the rotten bits and rinse us with clean water and repot us in fresh, uncontaminated soil. But it hurts. It’s a lot of scary to willingly walk into something new and hard and unknown. But God has greater things planned for our lives than just 5 measly stems. He has a whole flourishing plant planned for us, if we’re willing to do the work, and let him do the work in our lives. 

Blessings my friends. 

Brie

Lessons from the soil Part 1

 After 15 years in the same house we moved late last summer across town to a house that provided a little more room for our family. While not the reason we purchased the house, I was drawn to the many flower beds that provided ample opportunity to create and explore. Our old yard was very sunny and I looked forward to new adventures in a part shade yard. 

As I dug into the soil last fall for the first time, anticipating the release that comes from plunging your spade into the rich dark soil, my spade stopped short. I pushed harder. I heard crunching and scratching. What could be hiding under this grass? It looked to me on the surface to be green lawn, a fresh place to dig a flower bed.  But I was met with so much gravel.

A long time ago, this big green lawn was a well manicured oasis for someone. Landscaped completely and beautifully with rock. And although in its day it graced a magazine, it became over grown and someone else came in and laid some sod on top of all the rocks and called it good. 

Today, I was changing around a different bed. I decided to move a couple of hostas to a different location. It looked prime. There was a layer of mulch covering the soil. Again, I thrust my spade into the mulch and it went in less than a quarter of an inch. I scraped back the mulch. More rock. 4 inches of rocks. Large rock, small rock. It was all there hiding just beneath the surface. 

As I scraped away the rock, trying to decide how to proceed with my flower beds, I was again reminded that God always brings the best revelations out of my time in the soil. 

Just like my well manicured lawn and flower beds were hiding so many rocks, people too can look well manicured and put together on the outside but when you dig a little bit, you may find a lot of rocks. 

What may have looked easy might instead hold for you long hours of digging through the hardness of life picking out all the rocks. Underneath all of those rocks there is beautiful fertile soil waiting to welcome the new life it can now receive in abundance. 

Peace and love to you as you patiently dig out the rocks in your own soil. 

Brie