Shiny new pots and pans

Everyone has had a moment in their life when they opened a box and there was a fresh, new and shiny set of pots and pans, right? One would think that, that was normal for a fairly newly married woman. I mean, though I courted (yes, courted.... different than dated) Andy for six and a half years, I've only been a Mrs for ten (almost eleven) years. That's a fairly new marriage in my book. After all, my grandparents made it well passed their golden anniversary! Ok, I'll admit that the thought that I've almost been with Andy longer than the time I spent growing up not knowing him is mind-blowing! That just hit me... still, fairly newly married in comparison to others.  Back to my pots and pans. The ones I had were old. VERY old. I can't even tell you how old, as everyone of them was handed down to me from someone. Yep. This gal didn't think to put pots and pans on her registry when getting married. That should have been a clue to Andy that I had a lot of learning to do when it came to taking care of house and home. Or maybe it should have just been a sign that he has to do all the cooking. I kind of like the way that sounds a lot better. Anyhow....

My new pots and pans came courtesy of a friend and a thoughtful gift. When I used them today for the second time, I was struck with the irony of my journey for the last few years. We've been trying to work our way out of debt by EATING AT HOME. This is not an easy thing for me; I love the atmosphere of being out - the people watching, the hustle and bustle of various places, interacting with those working, and of course, I love the fact that I don't have to prepare the meal. With a few cooking lessons from my friends Elaine and Meg, a crockpot guide to cooking from my friend Heather, and a bunch of other helps along the way, I am getting better at preparing meals and eating at home. I've found I kind of like not having to shush kids or peruse through the diaper bag in search of something, anything, to make a kid who is about to explode, happy. That part is much easier. And, honestly, I can now say the food is better.... especially when my friend who lives with us makes it. :) But the irony is that the last few years as I've been learning to cook, I've used old pots. Now, I have shiny new ones.... ones that came to me smack-dab in the middle of another new phase of my life... and ones that were the means of communication from the Big Guy above to me, today.

I fried some ham for lunch. I love fried ham. It is so good. Heck... most food is good. Maybe I should say I love to eat. That's pretty accurate. I eat when I'm happy, and I eat when I'm sad. I eat when I'm stressed and when nothing bothers me at all. After frying up and enjoying my lovely meal, I let my shiny pans cool down a little and then put water in them to soak. Those pans need a little TLC to be shiny again.

SO do we.

That's it. That's what came to me. The more I thought about it, the more I easily applied it to homeschooling. So, here's what some of you were waiting (and probably expecting to hear). I had a rough day in the homeschooling atmosphere today. The kids were loud, the concepts required an intensity of high proportions as I worked on ways to help my gal understand, Simon wanted to be with us and held the whole day.... the family peace was challenged for sure. We took a break.... a few hours break.... a needed break. And then hit the books again, finishing what was on the agenda for the day. We are a lot like shiny pots and pans, aren't we? Sometimes we need to soak up whatever it is in life that helps us relax (for me, a good book, a cup of coffee or a little HGTV) so that we can get ourselves cleaned up and looking good again. And I don't mean the kind of looking good that one would expect on a date night. I mean the kind of looking good that belongs to the heart atmosphere....Shiny and radiant with love. We need to shine and bring love to others, but many times, like the pots and pans that must sit for a bit, our shine returns when we break for a bit from the routine and take care of ourselves.

Before I close, I thought I'd share with you Marygrace's journal entry for today. No, this is not her diary; it is her journal that I use to practice writing skills for now. The prompt for her was: "What I like most about school this year is....."

Her reply "that I get a break when I ask. And I get to see Daddy when he comes home. [For Lunch] And I get my mommy time."

Interesting. She needs breaks too. That's because she's my shiny, biggest of the bunch of "little" pots. She knows she needs a break to do well. And, it's quite rewarding that she appreciates Daddy being there for lunch and her Mommy time. She scored points for that too.  :)

The Soccer Coach

Two weeks down.... about 36 to go. That doesn't sound daunting in the least, eh? Not. It is daunting and even somewhat terrifying if I start to focus on it. Just thinking about the number of mathematics or language arts lessons, or science or social studies.... or worse, the number of fights and refusals to cooperate or the number of times that Simon decides to try to participate and scribbles all over the table (or eat the playdough or tear the workbooks). All the frustration and work.... for one who can tend to be lazy, that is DAUNTING; however,  I'm coming to really understand what my long-time confessor, Father Albert Joseph Mary Shamon, meant when he used to say to me (and quite frequently) "the penalty for treading on God's territory, known to you as the future, is anxiety, you monkey." I always loved the "you monkey" part, as it broke up the seriousness of what he was saying so as to let me know he understood the struggle, but that he also knew I needed to get by it and stop looking ahead so much. How interesting. How ironic.... go figure. The great words of Father Shamon still live and ring deep truth for me. God's territory is the future. I need not think about all the trials of homeschooling that I will encounter this week, this month, this year or ever. If I do, guess what? The anxiety bell rings.

This weekend, the top 75%, that is my three older children, started their Fall soccer program. They were all excited, looking forward to the game, new shin guards, seeing their friends, the concession stands, snacks, pictures - you name it, and they were excited for it. I love watching them play soccer. I've never played myself, so I don't fully understand the game. I've discovered that the league eases kids into the "real" soccer game by increasing field size, adding goalies, using throw ins or allowing cleats as the kids get older. Marygrace and Clara played on different teams at 1pm. Clara was her usual soccer-star self. My little athlete. Marygrace ran and ran and cautiously went after the ball, starting to break free from her self-imposed timidity. When their games were over, we brought Stephen over to his team; coach Scott has led him for two seasons now. As the "purple team" warmed up, I noticed that Scott had no helper this season, and after a quick exchange, I became the assistant soccer coach. I was certainly nervous at first. I didn't want to make a fool of myself or say the wrong thing. I listened and mimicked Scott's advice during the first quarter. By the second quarter, I was fairly comfortable with when they were going to throw it in and where my team needed to be for the throw ins. In a short time, I learned quickly. Having never been a soccer coach, I realized that I could do it.

Funny thing..... as a little purple player, Brandon, ran toward the goal, everything went into slow motion for me. His foot stepped back, moved in a pointed arc forward towards the ball.... slammed it.... sent it through the air and into the net... JUST as I thought, I can do this coaching thing..... and God said "and you can do the homeschool thing too." Of course, it wasn't loud words that everyone could hear. It was a communication to me. A fitting one at that. Ok, God.... I will listen to Father Shamon and really focus on taking the present, that I have control over, one day, one task at a time.... and You can take care of the future. Thanks for that deal. :)

The bike and the stuffed dog

Since the end of August, the texts and emails about homeschooling have flooded in. "Are you ready?" "Do you regret your choice?"  "Did you start?" "How was your first day?" "What do you do with all four at home at the same time?" Well, honestly, things are going much better than I thought they would. By the time the summer came to an end, I found myself actually looking forward to the first day. Funny, right? After discerning for years and fearing the tremendous responsibility of providing the "real" education that homeschooling requires, the anxiety from the enormity of it all has melted away.  I'm not sure where it went, and I sure as shootin' do not care. It's gone.

 I'm a reader. Someone who likes the figurative and speaks meaning in symbols. It's not surprising to me that one of my biggest revelations about homeschooling came two weeks ago when we were on a family bike ride. Daddy was in front with the Simon-mobile attached to his bike. The remaining order of bikers went like this: Clara, then Stephen, then Marygrace, and Mommy bringing up the rear. Being a minor control freak, this was a good place for me. In that spot, I both relinquished and took control, as I didn't get to choose our path or destination, but I did get to see all that happened and could make everyone stop at the sound of my holler.  Anyhow.... Marygrace was riding her princess bike with the basket on the front. Unbeknownst to me, she decided to put a stuffed dog into the basket and give him a ride as she coasted along. When I noticed the dog, I chuckled. What an innocent, nurturing thing for her to do. She had such great intentions. It didn't take long for the cackles on the back of my neck to rise in annoyance with the dog and the idea that he was coasting along with us, as every bump we went over, the dog fell out of the basket, Marygrace yelled "wait," I slammed on the breaks AND we fell further and further behind the rest of the family.  I patiently suggested she put the dog in the baby carrier with Simon; instead, she picked up the dog, put him back in her basket, said she would be more careful and got on to ride again.  Upon the fourth such dog dive, I nearly exploded in frustration, made Daddy stop and Marygrace gave her stuffed friend to Simon for the duration of the trip.  After just a few seconds, my frustration with Marygrace and her lovely dog disappeared into oblivion as she decided to take the suggestion and make the bike ride better for all.  A few pedals into the empty basket part of the bike ride, a message to me from God  popped into my head.... Though not a distinct voice or words, it was a realization that in my homeschooling journey, I was being like Marygrace with her stuffed dog. I was sticking to my ideas about how to best help the children succeed in school, trying new methods to solve difficulties each time a struggle surfaced at the elementary school. My frustration became greater as school became more difficult and testing brought the behavioral difficulties that had become the norm for our family. Figuratively, it was like God has been riding behind me with the better idea and putting up with the setbacks and frustrations that came as I tried to do things my way.  Now, as I sit in the middle of my first week of homeschooling, I think.... I think God is blessing me for taking the plunge despite my anxiety.

So, how is it going? It's early yet to give a detailed response to that question. But as I said, it is going much better than I thought it would. Thanks for asking. The strongest evidence of this is that I expected to hate homeschooling. I expected that I would be bored, feel trapped, not want to do the lessons, be confused about timing and who does what when.... BUT.... I don't hate it; I am not bored; I do not feel trapped; things are running fairly smoothly and.....drum roll.... best of all, I can see the learning unfold in front of my eyes. That isn't just a cliche. I saw the light go on as Clara used the phonics lesson of the day and blended sounds into words. I felt joy as the girls did science together and talked about the difference between science and applied science. I felt relief when Simon got sick and I was actually able to just shift the schedule around a bit, finishing a few subjects in the evening (which is when I would have been doing homework anyway). So.... so far, it's going ok. I've had more good moments than bad ones. I'm gearing up for the challenges that may present themselves.  But for now, I'm glad that I gave up the stuffed dog.