"Aren't You Afraid They'll Be Weirdos?" and other questions about homeschooling

We are a homeschooling family.  If you've been here before, you probably know this.  If not, hi, hello, we are a homeschooling family.  As we were nearing the end of last year's school time, my husband and I started perusing curriculum options for the next year.  Ultimately, we made our choices and decided to continue 'schoolwork' through the summer.  Our oldest is working at a second grade level and our youngest is now considered (by me) a pre pre-schooler (by which I mean she is mature enough to participate in almost all school activities, but lacks the ability to sit still for a full lesson so she flits in and out of the room, alternating between coloring in her journal and putting her pretend pigs to sleep in a book.)

Reading picnic.

This will be our third year homeschooling big brother and little sister has been tagging along all the way.  In three years, we have fielded many questions, speculations, criticisms, and admirations from all manner of people.  We have had strangers at pharmacies and restaurants give us their opinions as well as suggestions and support from family.  We've navigated explaining homeschooling to acquaintances and co-workers, as well as the cashier at the grocery store.  As a family, we've been lucky enough to have friends that love us for homeschooling, and to have connected with families who share our love of it and our children have made invaluable friends. Unfortunately, we've also endured our fair share of snide remarks and heard plenty of conversation about how horribly detrimental homeschooling is for a child's intelligence, development, mental health, sociability, and overall well-being.  If you are a homeschooler, homeschoolee, teacher, parent, student, or prospective homeschooling family, I have compiled a list of five questions you will most likely be expected (albeit, at times, by someone whom you owe absolutely no explanation at all) to answer and answer well because the world's opinion of homeschooling depends on it!! (Not really, it will mostly be an elderly couple you've met once or maybe a gum-smacking store clerk who is a proud product of 'regular' school.)  But I digress.  On with the list.

1. "Aren't you afraid they'll be weirdos?" 

Making careboxes for the elderly.

This, in our experience, is probably the most popular of the anti-homeschooling arguments.  My husband actually had a co-worker rail him during a discussion at work on whether or not it was "good for kids" to be homeschooled. This father adamantly stated that his son would be going to public school because he "didn't want him to be a weirdo."  Apparently, this father had the notion that learning academic lessons as well as moral, social, and emotional lessons at home was going to turn our son into someone on par with the character of Renfield in Bram Stoker's Dracula, and that one day, we would inevitably find our small son talking to the moon out of his window whilst he dined on flies he caught in traps of his own invention.  Rather than use that illustration of the ludicrousness of the co-worker's argument, my husband politely explained that obviously, homeschooling is not for everyone, but it was the best choice for our family and we enjoyed the extra time spent together and familial involvement in all aspects of our son's (and daughter's) development.

2.  "But when will they have a chance to socialize?  Aren't you afraid they'll have no friends?" 

Attending an indoor children's concert at the library.

In discussing this questions with our homeschooling friends, the consensus has been that our homeschooled children have absolutely no trouble at all making/keeping friends and that they actually seem MORE capable at social interaction with children and adults of all ages.  They aren't taught that 'kittygarteners are babies' or that 'adults are only there to make rules and get you in trouble.'  In our experience, they generally lack pre-conceived notions about age, race, and gender.  They play together, they accept new friends, and they interact well with babies and the elderly.  (I know, sounds awful right? *sarcasm*)  Still worried about socialization?  Then just read this list of 'extracurricular' activities any one of the children in our homeschool playgroup attend weekly:  church, churh camp, softball, soccer, 4-H, Awanas, library programs, playdates, HIPPY, parents as teachers... shall I go on?  Socialization does not have to be done in a school environment.  In fact, as a former public school student and teacher I will say, it's sometimes best NOT done in a school environment.

3.  "Oh I could NEVER do that!"
It's this comment (that almost always comes from parents), and more than any other, makes me question what people think homeschooling really involves.  Homeschooling, for our family, looks almost nothing like "real" school. We read, we sing songs, we color, we paint, we build things, we read, we write, we study art,

Helping Daddy plant a garden.

we listen to music, we create, we think, we imagine, we read...  Of course, all those things can happen in a formal school setting.  Of course they can, and do.  However, our family greatly loves being able to sit around the table having "book club" and discussing the latest chapter of the book we are all reading together.  One of my son's favorite activities is to do "geography" with his dad. (This includes looking up places on the map and using google maps to find streetviews of them.)  They discuss what the climate is like there, what animals they might have, and whether or not Daddy's ever talked to someone from there at work.)  For us, homeschooling does not simply involve sitting down to work three or four hours a day.  It means learning where the fruit at the store comes from, how many hours it is until dinner time, how to be safe when walking in a parking lot, and how to treat everyone with kindness and compassion.  There are always going to be days when you feel you haven't done enough or are simply overwhelmed with planning lessons on top of household duties and the stress of life and parenting in general...but as a family, we are far less stressed knowing that we are in it together and continually support one another in the entire journey of life.

4.  "At least you have a teaching degree." 

Baking bread doesn't take a teaching degree.

I hold a bachelor of science degree in elementary education, grades K-6.  I know another homeschooling mom who holds a master's degree in teaching.  I know another mom who has no degree at all.  Are any of us "better" at it?  Nope.  We all have different styles.  Our family's style is an ecclectic blend of classical education, Charlotte Mason philosophy, free-play, and books I love and want my children to learn to love too.  Other parents I know use boxed curriculum because they enjoy the fact it is aligned with their religious beliefs and has pre-planned lessons and tests.  One mom I know likes to use a Montessori approach when teaching her toddler.  Some of us do school in our living rooms, kitchens, playrooms, outside. My teaching degree has helped me in homeschooling about 2% of the time.  In college, my student advisor and beloved professor told us over and over:  The parent is the expert on their child. Never, ever forget it.  Parents, you know your child.  You know their interests, likes, dislikes, and what they are capable of.  Who knows better how they learn than you? Your children are unique individuals who deserve recognition and validation for being such.  Do I need a teaching degree to acknowledge that fact and subsequently teach them in a way they understand?  Absolutely, irrevocably, NOT.



5.  "I envy you." 

Splatter painting.

I'm a stay-at-home mom.  Our family homeschools our two wonderful, lively, and rambunctious children.  My son is advanced for his age with all the attitude and liveliness of a six-year-old.  My daughter is a beautiful soul with the face of an angel and the destructive capabilities of an F5 tornado, along with some special needs that must be accounted for in every aspect of her daily life.  Is it easy?  Should everyone do it?  No and NO.  As a family, we've made many sacrifices to homeschool.  I respect other family's decisions not to homeschool, to choose private school, public school, to work full-time/part-time, go to college, use daycare.  Whatever works for your family; DO IT.  Two parents working full-time did NOT work for us.  It was the most dismal time in our nearly ten years of marriage.  We LOVE homeschooling and how we live now.  A homeschooling lifestyle comes with many challenges, as does any other way of living.  I get rubbed the wrong way when someone says they envy my job.  Because it's often followed by statements such as, "If we didn't have a mortgage payment..." or "I SO wish I didn't have to work..." or the worst I've heard yet, a comment directed toward a good friend whose family recently made the decision (and financial sacrificies necessary) for her to stay at home with their special needs child: "Spoiled!"   Our family doesn't judge or envy parents who choose public school or private school or montessori or daycare, who work or don't work, etc.  We don't get jealous of families with nicer cars or newer homes than ours.  And if you're really that envious, perhaps it's time to make a change.

Even pretend zombie families like to go camping.

Homeschooling may or may not be for you.  Homeschooling is for us.  It's for our kids.  It's for my husband and myself.  And in our experience, those 'things' your family gives up are repaid a thousand fold to get to be an active participant in all aspects of our children's growth and life.  So, if you see me in the park on a Tuesday morning, notebooking about the insect life under an oak tree; respect what our family has done to get there, rather than envy my lack of hours on the clock.  When you see my kids romping with ten other kids of all ages, worry not for their socialization; admire their flexibility, creativity, and acceptance of one another.  In line behind me at the store, when my sensory girl is running circles around me and hanging from the cart handle; instead of asking how do I DO it every day, smile at her and remind yourself that you don't know her story.  Rather than be annoyed when my son insists on paying for his own toy, admire the fact that he could count out his money on his own.  If you truly want to know more about homeschooling, ask us.  I know fifteen people who would love to talk your ear off about it.  Just ask us thoughtfully, respectfully, and kindly.  We'd do the same for you.

**The views presented on this blog are my personal opinions and are by no means intended to represent the feelings of all homeschooling families.**

Top Five Things Parents Should Do When They Don't Know What to Do

This is the story of parenting lessons learned during a long, grueling, exhausting, and exasperating day.  On this day, we were up and out of the house early and on our way to the doctor for both kids to undergo allergy testing.  Not only did this mean they would both be receiving numerous needle pokes and having blood drawn, but it meant we would be in the car for 5+ hours for the trip there and back.  (Yes, we live in the middle of nowhere.  It might not even be on the map.)  A rough day for anyone, made doubly so by my children's special needs.  Our daughter has SPD, or sensory processing disorder. Our son has High-Functioning Autism or Asperger's Syndrome, as well as Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and severe anxiety.  Anything that throws off our routine is the devil to us; needles and long car rides send us spiraling into oblivion. 

Sooo, I could tell you the whole story of how the day went, but that would take an inordinate amount of time which none of us have.  Instead, I will relay the highlights/lowlights of the day in the form of this countdown.  I call it "Top Five Things Parents Should Do When They Don't Know What to Do," otherwise known as "Things You Can Do to Stay Sane When Your Children Are Going Berserk."  Enjoy.


5. Deep Breathing.  If you don't know how or what this means, I advise you invest in a yoga DVD or check out a deep breathing technique video on YouTube. Real life example of the merits of this technique:  My SPD daughter despises car seat buckles.  She might as well buckle with a cactus wrapped in poison ivy.  (Yes, seriously.) Every time we got into the car yesterday (a total of three or four times), I was forced to buckle a shrieking, kicking, stiff as a board, spitting, purple in the face toddler into her car seat.  She broke my necklace.  She spilled our drink from lunch.  She threw sour candy all over my husband's immaculate car.  She spit snot in my mouth.  She screamed that she
could buckle herself, then when I let go of her, proceeded to sit maddeningly still and stare out the window without moving a muscle toward actually buckling (in total shut down mode).  When I touched her, she instantly turned on again and proceeded to flop fish-like to the floor of the car and throw cookie debris she found there.  Did I mention how immaculate my husband's car was?  Cue deep breathing.  It took some long deep breaths to calm myself enough to force her back into that seat.  No amount of reasoning was to be had.  I had tried every trick in my book (as well as several pages borrowed from other mothers and our therapists) to convince her.  In the end, it came down to my upper body strength and some long inhales through the nose.  We both lived and rode all 5+ hours safely buckled into our seats. 


4. Calm Yourself First.  You know the safety steps on a plane?  If you've ever flown with a small child, the flight attendants come by your seat to specifically tell you to put your oxygen mask on BEFORE you put one on your child.  It goes against parental nature, but the logic is, you cannot help your child if you die from lack of oxygen in the attempt.  Same reasoning applies here.  Let's face it, if you're freaking out, chances are, so will your kid.  The logic that follows is this:  Calm yourself before you attempt to calm your child.  No amount of 'calming' words or gestures given by an adult on the edge of a breakdown/meltdown/freakout are going to help a child on the edge of the same.  Learn by this example of what NOT to do:  After the initial round of needle pokes, the doctor decided my son (the hypersensitive sensory avoiding one) would need additional inter-dermal allergy testing.  That meant, you guessed it, more needles and bigger needles.  When the nurse came in with a tray loaded with eight large syringes, I literally gasped out loud.  BAD idea. I tried to recover by assuring my son it would hurt but not TOO bad.  Too late.  He'd heard that gasp loud and clear and nothing I could say or do was going to make him forget it. Ever heard the term "autistic meltdown?"  Insert one here.  He proceeded to flip.  I mean truly flip.  It took two of us to hold him down so they could finish.  To top that off, they had to re-test one more time for an allergen he was especially allergic to.  I was out of the room with my daughter for this one.  My son didn't flinch this time.  He calmly sat in his aunt's lap and let the nurse insert the needle under his skin without ever making a noise. (Did I mention I brought an entourage to this appointment to help if needed? I did.)  I won't go so far as to say the first freak out would have been avoided had I not gasped aloud, it probably would have at least been curbed.  Moral of the story:  Keep Calm and Parent On.  Literally.


3. Take Cues from Your Kids.  There are times when the best choice is to just follow the lead set by your child.  Example:  Our SPD daughter is a sensory seeker, with marked under-responsiveness to pain (among many other avoiding/seeking/modulation/regulation issues).  When having to have blood drawn, the nurse asked me to hold her in my lap to keep her still.  My daughter refused.  Instead, she sat very still in the chair (alone) while I helped hold her arm straight with one hand.  She looked on with mild interest while the nurse took an IV needle and vial to take blood out of her tiny arm.  The nurse was in shock that she sat so still and quiet.  Had I forced her to get into my lap, I absolutely guarantee that a meltdown would have ensued.  My daughter was nervous, not of the needle, but of the unknown.  I had explained what would happen the best I could, but it was an abstract thing for a very concrete brain to wrap around.  In her short three years, she has developed incredible coping skills.  I used to think it was withdrawal, but it isn't really.  Watching her in these moments is like watching an out of body experience.  She's there, but she's also somewhere else.  Had I tried to wrestle her into my lap, the full-body contact would have made it impossible for her to center herself and cope with the experience.  So I let my tiny little girl sit alone in a hard plastic chair with a great big needle in her arm.  And it worked.  No tears.  No meltdown.  No concern on her part at all.  All I had to was follow her lead.    

2. Surround Yourself with Support.  I brought my mom and sister with me yesterday to the appointment.  Not just for the kids' sake, but for my own.  I needed them there to lend some support and dispel everyone's nerves, as well as for the help in holding them down!  We were able to have a nice lunch and enjoy at least part of the day because of their company.  When we finally made it home in the evening, my husband was able to help get the kids bathed and settled down for the night, as well as helping to unpack the lunch, snacks, and other items that had accumulated in his car (his poor, formerly immaculate car) throughout the day.  After dinner, I had a chat with someone whom I consider my closest friend.  We don't get together nearly as much as we'd like, but this girl is THERE for me.  We have only a couple of "friendship" rules that we both abide by.  The first:  no judgment; only support.  The second: silliness.  Always silliness.  So when I messaged her with a story about accidental  traveling sensory bins and the need for extra wine, she listened.  Not only did she listen and commiserate; she laughed.  Which brings me to my next rule.

1.  LAUGH.  Laugh hard.  Laugh loudly.  Laugh often.  I have a feeling that many people I know think I might not take this whole parenting gig as seriously as I should.  There is no other heaviness or seriousness to compare with the thought of being in charge of another human being.  Not only in a physical capacity, but also being co-head supervisor of their cognitive, social, emotional, and spiritual well-being.  It is the most terrifying responsibility you will ever imagine.  So terrifying and so serious, that in fact, if we were to look at the gravity of the job for very long, parents everywhere would crawl into holes, caves, and ravines hidden from the world, never be seen again.  Serious?  Absolutely.  Hilarious?  Even more so.  Real life examples:  My son was having a huge, major panic attack about those needles.  He was melting down and continued to do so even after they were finished and out of the room until my mom had the presence of mind to crack a joke about the pet store having dog underwear.  He laughed, and just like that, the world righted itself and the panic was gone.  The meltdown faded and laughter took its place.  My beautiful soul of a daughter decided in the car on the way home that her day had, in fact, been too much to handle and she needed a major sensory outlet.  NOW.  Her solution was to take the plastic storage container that had their snack of strawberries in it.  She quietly and surreptitiously snuck the container into her lap, pulled the lid off, and proceeded to squish every single strawberry into pulp.  By the time I glanced in the rear view mirror, there was nothing to be seen but pink paste dripping from my daughter's clenched hands.  I reached for the wet wipes, while realizing I had none.  (I was in my husband's car, remember?  The immaculate one?) Oh. Crap. I dug in my bag with one hand while navigating traffic with another (no time to pullover, that pink pulp about to start to flying) and found...an extra pair of my son's underwear.  At this point, my sensory-seeking baby girl was about to get uber-upset because while she loves the initial sensation of mess-making, she also LOATHES being dirty.  Before the screams started in full-force, I executed a one-handed, behind-the-back swipe of her arms and hands, while simultaneously whisking the "mess" in the container away unnoticed and substituting an orally regulating bag of crunchy chips.  Go ahead:  Laugh.  It was freaking hilarious.  It was ridiculous.  It was outrageous.  It was totally necessary.  But if I hadn't started giggling when I saw that strawberry covered fist in the air, I would have lost my mind.  The day was pressing down hard and my patience and mental state were flagging.  That giggle saved our lives.  Because when they heard me, the kids started to giggle too.  And then, well... we drove on into the sunset.  

 What else?

 Author's Note:  There is a little strawberry on my husband's back car seat (did I mention the upholstery was cream colored?).  But there's a little strawberry on everyone's fabric of life.  Sometimes, we can get it out with stain remover. Other times, it sticks - regardless of the amount of scrubbing applied.  No one ever plans on it getting there.  But, most of the time, the story of the stain is worth more than the fabric itself.

The Seeker

She lives on sour patch and the smell of bleach. She frequently has head bruises from running into things. She can swing and spin for hours. She's under responsive to pain and becomes angry when she's overwhelmed. You couldn't keep up with her if you tried so you walk a step behind and hug her tight when she asks. She will punch you one minute and cling to you the next. She's a runner and she's fast. A free spirit and a veritable whirlwind of odd energies. When you see her stomping toward you, you're never quite sure what to expect. She's full of surprises and frustratingly inconsistent. She's in constant motion and amazes you with what she knows. Her fears seem irrational; her preferences bizarre. She's absolutely gorgeous and has no idea. She dresses strangely, if at all. She's determined and obstinate. She thrives on routine and enjoys having her time preplanned. She will clean and straighten for hours.  She is your best friend and your worst enemy. She makes her mind known, letting nothing hold her back. The majority of the time, she is fearless. She is an all or nothing girl. If she can, she will do it by herself. If she had her way, she would carry a dog with her everywhere she went. She loves makeup but knows no excess. She turns three soon. In three short years, I've learned 75% of my life's lessons from her and am humbled by her daily. They call her the seeker. And she's totally changed my life.

The Thursday Club

I'm sitting in a quiet house this morning.  Hard to believe right?  It's gray and a little rainy and the kids are peacefully busy with their own pursuits, giving me some time when if I was honest with myself, I should be cleaning something, but here I sit instead.  This morning stillness is a far cry from yesterday's scene.  Because yesterday was library day, therapy day, and playgroup day.  It is the day of the week when everyone in the house gets out of bed knowing they'll be completely spent by bedtime that night (in my case, long before bedtime).  After a rousing story time and Valentine's exchange party at the library, an hour of fairly intense sensory therapy for my daughter, and a few errands run in town, we came home to wait for our friends to arrive for playgroup.  Sugary snacks and lots of free-play time abounded for the remainder of the afternoon while all the rooms of my house became filled with children and babies of all sizes and the sounds of wild and imaginative play came from all corners.  (Have you ever noticed that those sounds can actually be quite disturbing?)  When not peeking in on our kiddos or chasing down the latest escapee up the stairs, the moms generally congregated in the kitchen for some much needed adult interaction.  You see, all the moms in our playgroup are, like me, stay-at-home moms.  I think I speak for all of us when I say, at time, we don't get out much.  Some weeks, looking forward to Thursdays is what gets me through Monday or Tuesday.  Weekends spent with my family are the ultimate perfect time for me, but those Thursday hangouts with other moms who KNOW is pretty invaluable as well.
So yesterday evening as I put away toys, found Legos in unexpected places, and put away the leftover snacks (why did I make SO much puppy chow??), my thoughts turned to all my mom friends and how each of them brings something different to the figurative playgroup table.  In my head, I liken us to "The Breakfast Club" of moms if you will.  You know, the rebel, the brain, the jock, the princess?  Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but the concept is the same.  Before I had children, I did not know these women.  If not for my children, I probably would never have had the opportunity to meet some of them.  And as I listen to their various threads of conversation and hear them share passions, interests, and sometimes gross and hilarious anecdotes, I am reminded of how unique our walks of life actually are.  It's easy to lump us together when you see us at the park doling out Capri Suns and calling to our kids to "put the grasshopper down" or "don't hang off that slide!"  And I don't think any of us mind too much when we get the stereotype of "Stay-at-Home Mom" and most people who see us out and about assume we're all pretty much of the same breed.  That's okay.  In fact, I'm honored to be associated with such a wonderful, strong, and fierce collection of ladies.  They are my friends and I love them.  However, it's easy to forget to respect our individuality as well.  Yes, we are all moms and in our playgroup, we all stay home with our children.  BUT.  That, my friend, is where our similarities end.  For real.  There are some things that some of us have in common in addition to mommyhood.  But being moms who happen not hold jobs outside the homefront is the only string that ties us ALL.

In our "breakfast club" of mothers, we have a little bit of it all.  An Earth MaMa, a Preacher's Wife, a Down-to-Earth Country Girl, a Crafty Mom, a Peaceful Soul, and a Farmer's Wife.  I'm not exactly sure where I fall, but I think it would probably be something like The Darkly Comic bordering on Just Plain Weird One.  Our interests, habits, and personalities vary greatly and the differences range from quite superficial right on down to differences in how we view the very fabric of the earth and our entire philosophy of life.  Some of us buy organic, some of coupon.  Some of us homeschool, some chose public or private education for their children.  Some drink coffee in ungodly amounts, some prefer their caffeine cold, some even prefer water.  Some are openly religious and discuss it freely, while others are a little closer to the vest and less likely to chat about our spirituality.  Some just can't seem to stop talking (GUILTY!), and some prefer to listen and speak only when there's something worth saying.  Some of us are visionaries, some are planners, some are just ready to take action.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.  These lovely ladies are my friends, my support group, and they've got my proverbial back.
Yesterday, I counted at least three meltdowns, a couple of small tantrums, one panicky moment where we thought we heard a child scream but was actually a very intense dragon roar, once when we thought a child might have eaten an unidentified substance, three times where it was time to go home and someone couldn't find their shoes, a dozen mini cupcakes eaten, six half-drunk beverages left on my counter, innumerable toys and dress-up items found under the beds, and once when I thought I had lost another mother's child but actually found him playing in the empty bathtub (whew!).  What you can't count are the years it added to our collective motherly lives to have a time and place where we can turn our kids loose for a few hours.  You can't count the value of letting your child play with friends unattended because they never argue.  There is no tangible measurement of being able to say without batting an eye; "Here, hold this!" and the "this" is a four-month-old infant.  We are here not just to attempt to somehow turn these unruly balls of youthful energy into functioning, independent, compassionate adults, but to lift each other up, to laugh with one another, to support one another ESPECIALLY in those moments of meltdowns or difficult to navigate situations that pop up ever so inconveniently.  We are human beings.  We are not perfect, neither are our children.  We err.  We do stupid stuff.  We make mistakes on a daily-freaking-basis.  BUT.  The bottom line is we are ALL mommies.  We are stronger than the average human being.  We carry with us a patience that is superhuman but that still wears thin and frays at the edges.  Our walks of life and parenting choices are as unique as we are, but at the end of day, I like to think we can rely on each other to be a safe-haven of non-judgment and buoyant support.  And that is why, as totally exhausting as Thursdays are, they are my favorite weekday.  It's why I secretly look forward to library and playday as much as my kids do.  Because individually we are: An Earth MaMa, a Preacher's Wife, a Down-to-Earth Country Girl, a Crafty Mom, a Peaceful Soul, a Farmer's Wife, and a Goofy Weirdo.  Together, we are greater than all the parts standing alone.  We are mommies and we're pretty dang awesome.   

What I am is...not who I am.

I am a lot of things.  I am things that are obvious.  I am things that are subtle.  I have passions that I lay out for everyone to see and some that I keep closer to the vest.  I am silly.  I am impulsive.  I am out-going.  I am a nature lover, an animal lover, and borderline tree-hugger.  I like going to the grocery store.  I make lists for everything.  I am a conversationalist.  I try daily to be open-minded and non-judgmental (and fail just as often).

I am NOT a lot of things.  I am not slow to anger.  I am not overly patient.  I am not always the person I want my children to think I am.  I am not always kind.  I am not always happy.  I am not always thankful for the beautiful things in my life.  I am not always as excited as I should be to see my kids when they wake up in the morning or my husband when he gets home at night.  I am not a perfect (or even always a GOOD) parent.  I am not conservative.  I am not good at self-editing or filtering (though I think I am getting better). 

From a parenting standpoint; what am I?  I am a mother who, at times, feels like she cannot stand another minute in her house alone with her children or else she will go absolutely insane, never to be seen again except feeding birds in the park and talking to stray cats as if they were her late grandfather...

From a parenting standpoint; WHO am I?  Today?  I am an overwhelmed, exhausted young parent who is unsure of every parenting move I've ever made.  I am not enough of anything and I'm too much of everything.  I am a mother who loves her children more than her own life.  I am an advocate for their health, their education, their potential.  I am a parent of two very different children that need me to be very different things for them.  So at any given time; I am a teacher, I am a therapist, I am a mother, I am a maid, I am a cook, and I am a refuge when the world is just too much.  I am a listener, a holder of hands, a feeler of foreheads and a bandager of broken hearts.  I am a scheduler, a facilitator, a chaperone.  I am a decision-maker, a questioner, a second-guesser.  I am everything to my children and nothing at the same time.  I am a parent trying my hardest to raise independent individuals who are confident in their own abilities and choices while being unsure and terrified of my own.  And at the end of the day, that's a comforting thought.  If ever I feel sure of myself and fully confident that I have done "the right thing" for my children, I will immediately know I am failing.  If I ever go to bed NOT feeling at least a little bit like a screw-up, I will be sure I am one.  Parenting and life are like that.  They are an endless journey of questions.  Some days, I have no answers.

Are you sure you know what you're doing Mom?  Nope, no idea kid!

In my life, I am a lot of things.  For my kids' sake, I hope that an over-confident parent who has all the answers is never one of them.

All That Matters

Our family schedule and routine has, of late, been up-ended by a series of unusual events. First, my husband had to go out of state for business-related travel, then there was Thanksgiving (which meant we had therapy canceled and missed library day in the same week-the horror!).  Additionally, we have been at least moderately affected by the latest winter storm system and my husband was forced to take a four-weekend due to poor road conditions (also causing therapy and regular activities to be canceled).  To top it off this week, my husband was able to go back to work, but has been working ten hour days and going in before the kids are up because of holiday overtime AND big brother isn't feeling well.  Needless to say, we have been on a roller coaster of tantrums, meltdowns, crankiness, potty accidents, and all that comes with a schedule upheaval of such epic proportions.  I have (mostly) kept my cool during this tumultuous time.  It's been difficult.  My house is a mess and we've got family coming to stay with us in a few short weeks.  I have volunteered to make and bring things to places and people that I haven't even bought or prepared yet.  Laundry is threatening to envelope our bedroom and make sleep completely impossible.  I spent three solid minutes last night on the phone with my wonderful, generous, and loving husband (who in addition to making a 1800 mile round-trip work excursion a couple of weeks ago and having an awful time of it to boot, was currently on his way home from a ten-hour day at work and driving on roads that were still partially snow-covered to get there and back, all to get a paycheck that single-handedly supports all four of us) about the fact that NO ONE had helped ME with the dishes this entire week.  So....maybe I haven't completely kept my cool.
I woke up this morning with a violent headache (the kind that always end up nesting behind my left eye and festering, making me want to pluck my own eyes out...sorry, unnecessary visual), a sick kid, my daughter's normal everyday garden-variety tornado of messes to clean up, and a veritable MOUNTAIN of housework that needed my attention badly.  After posting a picture of my daughter's latest horrid mess that had been made on social media, a good friend of mine said this to me:  (in reference to her son who has some special needs very similar to those my daughter faces), "...So, when someone asks why my house isn't perfect, why the laundry isn't done, etc, I know that I have taken care of my little boy, and that's what matters!"  That comment sort of changed my attitude for the week.  Because that's exactly where my attention was needed, even more so than the dishes, laundry, and tub that was going to HAVE to be scrubbed before the end of the day combined.  My wonderful friend was right.

 

And so came Revelation of the Day #1:  My placement on Earth was not that of 'laundry doer' or even 'activity mom' as my husband jokingly calls me these days.  I was put here to be a mommy, a wife, a friend, a servant.  And while housework does need to be done and it's nice to have help; my stress over it NOT being done is unimportant.  What is important is that my kids built a tent together in our living room today and 'explored' it with flashlights.  What is important is that the three of us made crayons to give to the kids' friends as Christmas gifts.  What is important is the two beautiful children I am so blessed and lucky to have (messes included).
 

As the day went on, I received an email that discussed the 'one thing every marriage should have.'  Intrigued and because the emails from this particular party are usually well-worth the read, I clicked.  As I read, the email discussed this one mysterious ingredient necessary for a good, solid, loving marriage:  Grace.  I'm paraphrasing here, but the article basically stated that without grace a marriage would grow hateful, resentful, and stagnant.  How can two people grow together and grow their family if they lack the grace it takes to moves past petty issues like who washed more dishes this week?  Here came Revelation of the Day #2:  I am not a perfect person and neither is the man I married.  Therefore, our marriage isn't perfect.  He doesn't always read my mind and do the dishes when I want and I don't always greet him at the door with a smile on my face.  We both have many faults.  And that doesn't make us bad.  It makes us human.  (Enter Grace, stage right.  Exit resentfulness, stage left.)  

 

Feeling completely humbled at this point, I started to rethink the blog post I had intended to write today.  The holidays are approaching fast, and maybe soon I'll get back to the post I intended to share with you today.  But for now, I'm busy.  I'm busy making crayons.  I'm busy listening to the giggles coming from under the tent blanket.  I'm busy catching up the dishes so my exhausted husband doesn't have to do them tonight.  In short:  I'm busy taking care of my family and striving hard to do so with grace and love (and probably an apology or two).  Because they are all that matters.

A Crazy Mom's Guide to Enjoying the Holidays

My husband and I chatted about our upcoming weekly schedules last night. In my mind, these chats happen either in European outdoor cafes or mountain lodges with blazing fireplaces while whiteout blizzards happen outside, steaming mugs of cocoa in hand, but in actuality occur while hanging up clothes in our bedroom (ahhh, reality)...  Conversation turned to how quickly the holiday season had come upon us this year and how busy our schedules were going to be for the next month or so.  My husband's line of work requires a lot of overtime for the holiday season and the kids and I seem to be engaged in at least one additional out-of-the-house activity each week between now and Christmas.  I'm not complaining; I have no room to do so as most of the extra activities are ones I thought of or signed up for.  My thoughts now are centered around how to survive (and even enjoy!) the holidays when schedules are hectic, kids can be difficult, and time seems to slip through your fingers.  So.  Here it is.  My "Crazy Mom's Guide to Enjoying the Holidays."

Rosie the pug is ready for the holidays...sort of.

 Tip #1.  Choose your activities wisely.
Our schedule for the month of December is getting crazy-full.  We have club meetings, playdates, parties, and service projects in addition to my husband working extra, our daughter's therapy, our son's home-school, and that's not counting family gatherings.  Altogether, it's looking like a super busy month.  However, we have NOT planned more than two extra activities a week.  And we rescheduled some activities and appointments that could stand to wait a few more weeks.  The things that made the final cut and landed on the monthly schedule were activities that the kids really love and activities that gave us an opportunity to serve someone else.

We LOVE our library.

Tip #2.  Know your child's (and your) limitations.
My son is a total homebody.  He's also a fairly easygoing kid and I used to forget how taxing it can be for him to be "on-the-go" until it was too late.  These days, I think about it this way.  If YOU are tired, stressed, and exhausted because you've over-planned or over-stretched your time; CHILDREN feel all of that, doubled.  Doubled because they are KIDS and don't have an adults' capacity for compartmentalizing and coping with stress.  When our daughter came along, we realized her special needs require us to plan ahead more extensively and as a family, we have a constant discussion of "what will happen next."  We do nothing that is unexpected or surprising.  Some parents (and children) love spontaneity, but we cannot handle it.  So we talk, we plan, we write schedules, we make lists.  This way, Mommy and Daddy remember what has to be done and the kids know exactly what will happen next.  I've also found that it is much easier to keep your engagements minimal when you have them laid out on a calendar or planner for everyone in the family to see.  My husband and I are visual people, so looking ahead at a calendar with four days full of scribbled activities lets us know we need to take a step back and rework priorities.  Doing this prevents us from having overwhelmed, overloaded, and melting down kids (and parents!) by the middle of the week.

Sometimes home is just where you need to be.

Tip #3.  Flexibility is key.
I'm not talking about as a family this time.  I'm talking about you, as a parent.  Maybe you planned to finish your Christmas shopping, go to the bank, AND get groceries today, but that screaming two-year-old has other plans.  Go home.  Leave the cart in the store if you have to, and get the heck out!  In my experience, if it has come to "that" kind of meltdown, it's better to go back to something normal, routine, and comforting and try the outing or errand again another day.  Of course, it's not always possible to just leave... for example, you're at the store because you are out of a necessity and MUST have toilet paper.  Planning ahead with a greatly organized list helps, but we are NOT perfect people!  I've been there, with a screaming child (or two), frazzled, on the verge of tears, and all I needed was a box of pantyliners!!!  For times like those, I've found it's best to smile, speak softly, and bribe your children. (My daughter's OT refers to this as 'pairing an unwanted activity with a wanted reward' and that makes me feel somewhat better about it.)  You gotta do what you gotta do.  But remember that Rome wasn't built in a day.  And neither was your TO-DO list.

We love list-making.

Tip #4.  Do for others.
My son is all about service this year.  He wants us to bake cookies for everyone we know and ship some more to Africa if possible because "the people there would probably like that."  Wow.  I read last week about people breaking out into fights over THINGS on sale for Black Friday and I literally thank God that my children are here to remind me what life is truly about.  We did go shopping this past weekend with our children (not on Friday!) and they helped us choose gifts for our close family.  They were excited to get things others would like and couldn't wait to help wrap these presents, even though they weren't for themselves.  Several of our "extra" activities this month include some type of service project or gift-giving to someone other than family.  These made the finalized schedule because they weren't about US.  If Jesus is the 'reason for the season' then I think He would be happiest if we used it to serve others.  There are many ways this can be done and I highly recommend trying to fit at least one "service" activity into your holiday schedule.  Would it be easier to stay home in your PJs and catch up on that mountain of laundry before company comes?  Absolutely.  BUT, will that laundry still be there tonight if you spend an hour or so delivering cookies to local shops you frequent, just because it's Christmas?   Yep.  (Trust me, laundry mountains are as immovable as Everest.)

Sharing; it's not just for people.

Tip #5.  Involve your children.
Fact A:  Baking and cooking are easier done in a quiet kitchen that is devoid of children.  Fact B:  My children LOVE helping in the kitchen.  I have offered in the next few weeks to bring various baked goods, candies, etc. to several different functions.  It would be easier and faster to prepare these things while my children are watching a movie, playing, or even better:  sound asleep.  I just can't bring myself to do it though.  My kids LOVE helping in the kitchen and it's a special time I get to spend with them.  I'm home with them every day, true, but being in the kitchen is OUR time.  We chat, we laugh, we make messes, we learn, and sometimes, we have deep philosophical discussions.  I hope with all my heart this is something that continues long into the future.  If I kicked them out of the kitchen for convenience, how many opportunities to discuss the possibility of God allowing dogs in heaven or to present an impromptu math lesson in fractions (courtesy of my measuring cups) would I miss?  I shudder to think.  Your thing may not be the kitchen.  That's okay.  One of my husband's times with the kids is cleaning out the cars.  It's their thing (for sure not mine!), and they do it together.  I encourage you to find something you enjoy doing with your children, and let them do it with you!  The caveat is that it must be something 'grown up' that they are being included in.  (Examples could be holiday-specific like making cards, gift-wrapping, crafting, OR something more mundane and everyday like laundry or cleaning out the closets.)  Your kids will love being allowed to do something grown-ups do, they'll learn valuable life-skills, and you'll gain instant quality time with them.  Not to mention the enormous sense of pride your children will take in their accomplishment.  (My kids practically force-fed everyone a taste of their potato casserole they made at Thanksgiving!  Total pride of ownership.)

Kitchen help.

Well, there it is.  Five tips to keep parents sane (maybe) and grounded (hopefully) during the holiday season.  From our family to yours, we hope you have a wonderfully enjoyable and relaxing holiday this year!  May it be filled with love, joy, and peace.