Let It Go

I hesitate to write it out in words and yet I will.

I think we've finally found our school rhythm.

It's only taken about 5 years. I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out the puzzle of my kids. Who they are and how they are willing to be taught.

Of course, the answer is far from what I wanted it to be, or at least what I thought it should be. Even though I'm a well read homeschooler, I still was trapped in the idea that our homeschool should somehow resemble someone else's and that what worked for someone else would work for us. Well, I'm sure that's the case, it's just that it must be someone I haven't met yet.

I've come to really like discipline and structure. There was great comfort in making a yearly lesson plan, having all the books and work divided up into how much per subject per day. I loved the security of knowing that in the end I'd have it all checked off on the assignment sheets, all the papers filed away, and there would be paper proof that I was doing it all right.

Reality is, it isn't at all like that. Now, don't misunderstand here, it isn't that I've thrown the whole plan out, it's just that I've toned it down a bit. We're having really pleasant days and getting through loads of material. It just doesn't look the way I pictured it.

We do still spend a lot of time together around the kitchen or dining room table. It's just that the table is full of blocks or art supplies and I'm reading aloud for hours on end. We're reading it all, it seems. There is no end to what they will listen to. Even the youngest. We mix literature greats with nursery rhymes, science with science fiction, history with faire tales.

Everyone is content.

We are currently keeping our math, grammar and hands on science work to a single short daily lesson. Somehow, knowing they will only spend 30 minutes at most on these tasks they find so abhorrent, makes it easy to them.

We've filled up the free time with more creation--arts and crafts, music and writing. Comic books have been produced. Newspapers. Songs. Sculpture and paintings. Then sports come into play. There is swimming and Tae Kwon Do and very soon basketball. There are church and homeschool activities that we may actually be able to participate in this year. Then there are the friends to be played with.

Finally, I've given up my iron clad control over the screens. Once I stopped being a crazy woman, they started to obey. It's not very often these days that my request for the turning off of a screen is met with whining or tantrums. Sometimes there is some bargaining, but even that is at a manageable level.

I think that in the last years the kids have grown a lot. I know that I have grown more.

That said, today I was blessed with the innocence of a soon to be mama. She said that we moms that struggle with our to do lists just need to pray about them and God will give us the time to get it all done.

As my friends in Texas would say, well bless her heart, she'll come around.

I speak only for myself here as an almost a 10 year veteran of the mommy life, that praying to God about the to do list is a wise and fruitful thing to do. It just isn't necessarily that God gives you the time to get it all done.

Sometimes He called to mind my motives for what was on the list. Sometimes He reminded of my blessings in even having a list or children underfoot while trying to accomplish the list. Sometimes it was my sense of pride. Often it is my priorities. Sometimes He works on your soul to be content with what is. Often He reminds me that I am simply to obey him first and quickly, not myself. I am to rely on Him, not me.

So many years later down the list road, I've learned some lessons. I still make the lists. But now my reasons are so very different. I make them because I've spent my energy serving little ones and the details of life can get fuzzy. I make the lists to try to remember to do the special things for my special ones. I make the lists to remember my commitments and obligations. I make lists to remember to be in touch with the people who make my ordinary mortal life extraordinary. I make lists to cement the memories.