Hearing "You're Fat" By a Loved One

What Constitutes Bullying?

For over a month I have been mulling over this question.  As many of my readers know, I was bullied as a child and young adult.  And two years ago, I experienced adult bullying as well as the bullying of my oldest daughter, Zoe.  So I suppose you can say I'm not inexperienced when it comes to bullying.

However, what if a family member feels it necessary to address an issue?  What if that issue is weight, or your decision to homeschool, or your choice in spouse, or your decision to adopt, or your decision to move?  Is there a right way to present the concern?  I believe there most certainly is.  But what if my beliefs on this matter are a direct result of my past?  What if I'm just too damn sensitive?  This has been weighing on me (no pun intended) for over six weeks.

Thirty Years Removed

This year I turn 40.  This seems so big to me.  I cannot tell you why exactly, but it is a case of what I thought I would experience by 40.  I don't necessarily feel that my choice to have babies and put my family first in my 30's was a bad choice, but I'm definitely in a different place than I imagined.  Different bad?  Nah, just different.  The little girl of yesterday is still inside of me, but I have grown and accepted my past for what it is worth: the past. However, I have not forgotten the laughter and judgmental comments spewed across the classroom; especially at recess and Girl Scouts.  I have forgiven those children involved, but I wonder if those bullying memories have made me less accepting and more sensitive to bullying behaviors now.  

I think it is difficult to be objective when it comes to emotional scaring.  It is also so difficult to prove.  What if my experiences are simply my perspective on what was happening.  What if I am using the word "bullying" when in fact that isn't at all what is happening.  I have challenged friends before regarding the way bullying it taught in schools today.  The word "bully" is now in the vernacular of children, and can be thrown around without much thought.  However, I believe if the child feels comfortable to start dialogue with a teacher or other adult, the countless over-dramatic children seem to be worth the effort.    

Grief

Everyone deals with grief differently, and I truly believe no one way is perfect.  For those who felt I should be "over it" after Ray's memorial, I simply shook my head in disbelief.  If you are reading this and you have suffered a loss and are still getting "over it" that is okay.  Please know you are not alone, and there is no exact science to when you'll be "over it."  Therefore, food became my comfort, and I must admit I am housing more weight than ever before.  Well, not exactly, because I have lost since January, but you know where I'm going with this.  I'm not proud of this, but I certainly do not need to be judged by my body either.  In all honesty, I would much prefer to be challenged or bullied about pretty much any other topic related to my choices, but weight is just too personal to me and my inner-world.  

I live inside my head most of the time.  For many of my friends and family, this may seem surprising to some.  I can be quite open and talkative to be around, and I can be silly and spontaneous.  This doesn't mean I am an extrovert.  In fact, I am not.  I honestly think too much about everything and everyone - well after and much more than I think I should at times.  I am also what I refer to as a sensitive, not behaving in a sensitive way (which maybe I am too...).  I feel what others are feeling, and oftentimes internalize their emotions.  As I have aged, my ability to feel what others feel is only stronger.  I can feel over an email, a text, a phone conversation.  However, when I was grieving the loss of Ray last year, I was also grieving for my mother, my children, and our family.  I was not concerned with my body or health.  

Words

I could go into explaining how words are simply that: words.  How actions speak louder, and all that jive.  But the truth is: words hurt.  Regardless of their intent, words spoken hang over us like cartoon balloons.  Whether there is heartfelt concern over another person, I believe there could be tact in the situation.  In fact, I appreciate concern.  I just felt slapped in the face.  Yes, time has passed, but my initial reaction is still hanging there...concerning me.  Maybe I overreacted, but I don't think I did.  At the time, I felt others pressuring me to just move forward and ignore the comments; because the source was not in the right frame of mind.  But the thing is, I don't believe that behavior gets to be excused.  I have since accepted an apology, but the words will continue to reflect my feelings toward the person.  I will continue to work through that, but I have never been super good at forgetting.

I'm not one to watch the Oscar's.  In fact, I believe Hollyweird is pretty much not something I care to spend my free time viewing.  That being said, I wish a young Michelle had heard the words from Graham Moore last night:

A Year Later

Last year at this time I was spending a lot of quality time with Ray.  At this point he was doing well in rehab, and we were discussing how he could come home for Christmas (if just for a visit).  Quickly this situation turned grave.  But it is almost incomprehensible that a year has passed me by.  I am completely mystified how I have been able to survive the last few years, and 2014 especially.  If I didn't have pictures to show the various activities our family has experienced, I would have told you it was still 2013.

In the last couple of weeks I have spent time going through photos and updating the Ladybug's blog:
The Martin Ladybugs

I took pictures, so I know I was there physically.  However, I just don't remember much.  I don't remember what we ate for Thanksgiving dinner last year, nor Christmas Eve and Christmas, nor what I did between January and summer.  It's like I was going through motions, but not exactly making connections.  I have a lot of memories of summer, and watching the girls swim and learn how to do strokes properly.  But then there was a month of pure hell that I'm not sure how I made it out the other side without killing someone.

The flood of 2014 was not a simple day or five project.  It uprooted our whole existence for a month.  I could not practice for a wedding to which I was singing/playing without squeezing into the bathroom/laundry area and working on the music.  I was unable to teach private piano and voice lessons the first week of the school year, because the basement was completely torn up.  And these are just two of the many problems we encountered.  Many items were lost in the water, and so much clean up had to be done.  It seemed as if it would never be done, and yet here I am on the other side of the mountain.  How did I manage to get here?

I also managed to help my mother clear our more than 60 years of "stuff" from Ray's house.  If you are interested: Placing Significance on Insignificant Stuff 

Then in the midst of all of this, we had lice AND hand-foot-and-mouth disease.  Fortunately it was only the ladybugs who got the lice (I may have gone off the deep end if I also had them), but unfortunately I also got the hand-foot and mouth.  You would think ONE plague would be enough, but no, we had TWO.  And between Jim and I, we have also had enough blood work, procedures, and doctor's visits to last a lifetime.  Good news is that we both are mostly healthy, and neither needs surgery.

I do not wish to sound cynical, but this has been quite the shitty year for us; figuratively and literally. For starters, we had sewage in our basement when it flooded.  Then I just wrote a check for Jim's procedures, and Maggie (our beautiful dog) was found to have two kinds of intestinal worms.  We have also seen Zoe returning to some more anxious behavior, and now have been able to attribute it to her digestive system out of whack.  She is on her vitamins again, and things are moving along nicely (physically and emotionally).  But the shit is there.  And it is after a few pretty shitty years for Jim and I and our little family.  However, I am confident that at some point the clouds will lift and we will live in the light for at least a short while. Of course that is before something else crazy happens.

Somehow, someway, I have clawed my way through this last year.  I appreciate those who have clung onto me while I was at my worst.  It is through love that I have persevered, and it is through love in which I will enter 2015.  I thank you all for reading.

Like a Square Peg in a Round Hole...

...we just don't fit.

Even though we pulled our kids from private school in March 2013, last fall began our official start to homeschooling.  I was nervous to trust my instincts, and pretty much felt completely overwhelmed at the idea of schooling my Ladybugs.  I was quickly pulled in a hurricane of teaching the girls during the day, teaching private lessons on Tuesday and Thursday evenings and Saturdays, and taking care of my grandpa Ray on Monday and Wednesday evenings (and throughout the weekend).  I had no time to even think about anything.  I was pulled in many directions, and I was constantly frustrated with the girls.

What a difference a year makes - as my brain is much more focused on what we can achieve by homeschooling.  Less structure and more substance.  Zoe wants to spend a half hour baking cinnamon bread?  Okay!  She's working on reading, following directions, and measurements.  If Evie wants to take a time out to sit in the front tree?  Okay!  She is spending time with nature and refocusing herself to the tasks at hand.  I actually scheduled recess in the beginning of last year.  I had a plan, and I was going to adhere to it.  But by Christmastime (and the passing of Ray) I could not continue the path I had started.  Did that mean an end to homeschooling?  A part of me knew something had to give, but from the moment we left the private school, I knew I had made the right decision for our family.

This August was completely crazy; flood, power outage, canceled vacation, etc.  I thankfully had the first part of our school year mapped out (i.e. I had an action plan with movement).  However, each day is a little different, and I am flexible to the needs of my children.  After all, if you are going to set up your home like a school, what is the point of teaching your child(ren) at home?

Why don't we fit the homeschool picture?

We aren't homeschooling for Christian reasons.  At one point I thought that was the case.  The truth?  I loved the small class sizes of the private Christian school.  Their focus on individualized education was truly awesome.  Of course a small, family environment also means people saying and doing things that are very hurtful and spiteful.  Regardless, I wanted to provide that individualized curriculum.  So why was I streamlining everything?

We aren't homeschooling for political reasons.  We are not very political in nature.  We vote at all elections, but know that most of the time the outcome is the same as always.

We aren't homeschooling to shelter our children.  Yes, Zoe had huge issues with her anxiety.  And, yes, these issues did prevent her from wanting to take part in dance classes and the like.  But the truth is: our children have more friends than the average school-aged child.  We just had an 80s movie week, where we showed our children favorite movies from the 80s.  Yes, there were swear words.  Yes, they have heard them before.  No, we aren't worried.  I'm not going to say I don't want to protect my ladybugs from the nastiness of the world, but sheltering is not why we did this.

So , I ask myself - Why did we decide to homeschool?  The answer is simple: our education system is flawed beyond repair at this point.  Yes, there are some decent private schools, but they are all religious based.  There are also charter schools, but most will tell you a charter school is not necessarily better than a public school.  I don't have all the answers, but I do know that the quality of education today is not the same as it was 30 years ago.  Standardizing curriculum, testing all the time, and eliminating recess are just a few reasons I chose to continuing homeschooling.

I must admit the last month has been a hell on earth for us.  Our home has been in a constant disaster; almost giving people on Hoarders a run for their money.  But the flood has taught us to be smart about our purchases and the amount of things that are needed to survive.  So we push through the darkest moments and laugh when there are no tears left to fall.  For this too shall pass.

Blossoming Into Confidence

not the fort I mention...but similar

If someone had told me two years ago my daughter, Zoe, would be back to her magnetic and fun-loving self, I would have laughed.  I would NEVER have believed it.

Fall 2012
The school year had begun, and Zoe was in her fourth year at the Christian school.  Her teacher was new, but her classmates were familiar.  I was also a more active participant, due to the fact that I was teaching music twice a week.  Zoe was in another year of dance (baton this time) and she seemed reluctant, but ok with life in general.  As September became October, we began to notice a child with debilitating fears: fears of school, going to ballet, going to the store, doing pretty much anything.  On a couple occasions Zoe complained of a stomach ache and her urine feeling funny, but a trip to the doctor's office proved that it was all in her mind.  Now, believe me, I did not assume she was making up the illness.  In fact, her fears manifested in a spastic bladder.  Thus, she was immediately projecting another UTI.  A year or so earlier, Zoe had been to a specialist regarding her "frequent" UTIs.  I must point out that she only officially had two, but even at 6 this was concern for her pediatrician.

After weeks of concern, we took her to a therapist.  Our hope was to have Zoe learn skills to better survive with her fears.

Spring 2013
After experiencing bullying from classmates, Zoe was a wreck to even attend class.  The bullying wasn't a result of a physical reason (i.e. glasses, weight, etc.) nor was it because of anything she had control over.  In fact, it was because we told her she would not be attending a Lutheran school in the fall.  Other classmates (most actually) were going to the Lutheran school, and were making fun of Zoe for not being part of the group.  The fear was also brought on, in part, by her teacher.  According to her teacher, Zoe was cheating.  Not on tests, or even in daily work...but in journal entries.  In a classroom of ten children, Zoe and another child were best friends, and, therefore, played together a lot.  They also had a lot of common interests.  How was Zoe to have a different weekend than her friend, to whom she spent a lot of time with over the time period.

As March ended, I decided to pull Zoe (and subsequently Eva) and myself from the toxic environment.  However, change to Zoe's demeanor did not happen right away.  In fact, I had hoped she would relax in our home education environment, but she did not.

Summer 2013
A new family moved in down the street, so now Zoe had more friends in her neighborhood.  Instead of encouraging play between friends (i.e. playdates, etc.) I allowed my girls to play and with minimal boundaries.

We determined I would homeschool the girls again in the fall.  So when it came time to select activities for fall, Zoe still had reservations.  She panicked and cried and for lack of a better word or phrase: freaked out quite regularly.  We had removed her from therapy, considering she seemed to only fear sessions, and spent hours freaking out about going.  So we removed her from any and all activity.

Summer 2014
Zoe spent the school year gradually taking baby steps towards activities and things she wanted to participate in.  However, it was a complete shock when she asked for summer swim lessons.  I opened the boundaries of summer play even further this year, and watched as my girls created a fort from branches and dirt amongst other things.

I truly believe allowing Zoe to have more control allowed for her to want to try more activities.  I have to admit it isn't easy allowing her and the neighborhood children the ability to destroy my plants and flowers at the corner of our property.  However, the fresh air, sunshine, and creative play have been exactly what she needed.  By opening up my mind to the possibilities of a summer devoid of scheduled activities and parent-controlled play dates, Zoe has blossomed into a very healthy minded young lady.

In the coming weeks/months, I am going to provide articles and research-based information on why childhood MUST be focused around play and adult-free learning opportunities.  I hope you come back with an open heart and mind and we can both learn together.

Placing Significance on Insignificant Stuff

A lifetime of thingamajigs, doodads and gizmos.  Collections of curios and curiosities.  Some hidden from view, but all put in place by my grandparents.

In the last eight months I have been helping my mother clean out over sixty years of life from my grandparent's home.  If it is humanly possible, I have felt every imaginable emotion.  It is also rather surprising how deeply moved I feel about this home.  Each time I visited and worked, many items followed me home.  Some were out of necessity (sweeper, light bulbs, etc.) but others, many others, were because they hold dear and strong memories (record albums, chairs, etc.).

At first it felt like we would never even make a dent in the drawers, shelves and closets.  But bit by bit, step by step, we slowly made progress.  I must admit, my mother did most of everything.  I helped though, as much as I could.  But there were so many items that seemed insignificant, and yet, it is hard not to place significance on these items.  Why do we do this?

Before the casket was closed for the last time, a little beanie baby bear, a can of coke and a jar filled with a Manhattan were added with love around Ray.  It felt reminiscent to the burials of the Egyptians.  All that was missing was gold, jewels and a dead animal or two.

As I laughed with my mother over crazy things that Ray kept in his home, I realized that I too place significance on insignificant objects.  Did I want the bar light from Ray's basement?  Of course!  We do not have a bar, nor do we have an appropriate place to put it.  What about a hammer for small nails?  Sure!  In fact, when we repainted the bathroom this came in handy.  How 'bout brown paper bags, rubber bands, ten rolls of clear tape, calculators, note cards, stuffed animals, a stereo, etc.  The list goes on and on.  And the thing is, I cannot tell you that any are insignificant to us.

But no matter how many insignificant (or significant) things one surrounds themselves with, it does not take the place of a person.  The girls each took a stuffed animal from Ray, and quite often I see Evie take hers and inhale it.  It still smells like Ray (which to clarify smells very good).  Today I found myself doing the same thing.  I was at my moms and Emma and I were sitting on the couch she traded with the one at Ray's.  We were being silly, and we picked up the pillows to hide our mouths to see if we could determine expression on our mouths.  We both inhaled at the same time and went, "ah...".  It smelled like Ray. It smelled like home.  It was significant.

Reprint: Each Day Is Our Father's Day

This is a reprint of the blog post from Father's Day, June 19th, 2011.

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Today I gave the message (sermon) at church.  I also had to organize the service, choose the hymns, write and read numerous prayers, and choose the readings for the liturgist.  Some of my friends have asked for a transcript of today's message.  I will post below what I basically said/sang.  I sung the last song, in case you were wondering.  

Every Day is Our Father’s Day

On July 5th, 1908 in Fairmont, West Virginia, the first Father’s Day was celebrated.  It was organized by Mrs. Grace Golden Clayton, who wanted to celebrate the lives of the 210 fathers who had been lost in the Monongah Mining disaster.  This horrible event took place several months earlier in Monongah, West Virginia, on December 6, 1907.  However, West Virginia never officially registered the holiday, so the yearly celebration was shelved for the near future.  

A few times the holiday made an attempted resurrection, but on each occasion it was overshadowed by other more important matters.  However, in 1972 then President Richard Nixon signed the day into law making it a permanent Holiday on our United States calendar.  Once a year, on the 3rd Sunday of June, we take time our of our busy lives to honor the MAN (or men) who have made our lives different; men who we call FATHER.  

In my research on Father’s Day, I came across a variety of ways different countries celebrate their fathers.  I must say though, Germany had the most colorful traditions of them all.

In Germany Father's Day, or as they say, Vatertag, is always celebrated on Ascension Day (which is the Thursday forty days after Easter).  Ascension Day is a federal holiday, therefore, places of business close down. Regionally, it is also called men's day,Männertag, or gentlemen's day, Herrentag. It is tradition, especially in the north and east of the country, for groups of males (young and old) to do a hiking tour.  They use manpower to pull along one or more smaller wagons, called Bollerwagen. In these wagons are wine or beer (according to region) and traditional regional food.  From what I read many men use this holiday as an opportunity to get inebriated.   I suppose many would find that a great way to spend the day!

The word FATHER appears approximately 1500 times in the Bible, less or more depending on the version used.  And no, I didn’t come up with this number from our collection of Bibles.  I will let you in on a secret: you can get the information on the Internet.  And in many cases, the 1500 word usage of FATHER is written about Our Heavenly Creator: God.

Today we celebrate Father’s Day.  But isn’t EVERY day OUR HEAVENLY FATHER’S day?

What are your priorities?  Are you like most that let the “stuff” take over?  Do you fill your life with a bunch of beans like I illustrated to the children earlier?  Not having enough room to “fit” God in?  Or do you put God at the center of your life, then filling the spaces with the stuff?

During the month of May, I participated in an online social community with other Christian women.  We spent the month reading and sharing our journey through the book, “31 Days to Clean, Having a Martha Home the Mary Way,” by Sarah Mae.  Sarah Mae uses the familiar story from Luke as a basis for doing “spring cleaning.”  Each day the participants had a Martha task: which was some kind of deep cleaning around the home; and a Mary task: which was an exercise in spiritual cleaning.  

The story of Jesus’s visit to the home of Martha and Mary has always intrigued me.  Martha was so busy worrying about how her home looked and how the food was prepared, which is where I most often find myself.  However, Mary was engaged with her guest.  So much so, that when Martha found Mary she was engrossed in Jesus’s stories, sitting next to him at his feet.  Mary was concerned about the guest and not what was for dinner.  The Bible tells us that it is Mary whom we should model our lives after- allowing God into our homes and hearts no matter how “messy” they are.

I am a blogger.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with what a blogger is I will explain it as such: a blogger is someone that enjoys writing and/or journaling on the Internet for others to read. So each day during the month of May, I blogged (or wrote) my progress of each Martha and Mary task along with other women in the Christian social online community.  We read each other’s journey, and encouraged each other along.  Many left the daily challenges behind because they were too time consuming.  But I stuck it out.  And at the end of the 31 days, my home was much cleaner and (believe it or not) even more organized than before.

However, the Mary tasks were not so simple, and I don’t know if I will ever truly be able to say they are complete.  

The hardest task for me was on Day 5.  We were asked to list our priorities (from #1 to #5 or 6).  I’m sure you can guess items on my list: Jim, the girls, my job.  But what I had the hardest time deciding was what should I list as my #1?  My marriage?  My children?  What was the “correct” answer?

Of course, I knew the answer: God.  After all, putting God first is what the Bible tells us to do.   If we put God first and at the center of everything we do, all the other “stuff” should fall into place.  But is it that simple and easy?  I do not think so.

Today’s Old Testament reading was from the first chapter of Genesis.  We only heard a small portion of the creation story, but I’m sure we could all (including the children) tell you what came next.  But just because we can regurgitate scripture ad nauseum, does that mean we are fully understanding what is written at the very beginning of our sacred book?  God created everything.  EVERYTHING.  EVERYTHING out of NOTHING!

When we celebrate holidays such as Father’s Day or Mother’s Day or Grandparent’s Day, we spend most of our time focused on our Earthly families.  Those who raised us, or helped raise us.  There was a poem I ran across the other day, illustrating what a father is:

Mender of toys, leader of boys,
Changer of fuses, kisser of bruises,
Bless him, O Lord.

Mover of couches, soother of ouches,
Pounder of nails, teller of tales,
Reward him, O Lord.

Hanger of screens, counselor of teens,
Fixer of bikes, chastiser of tykes,
Help him, O Lord.

Raker of leaves, cleaner of eaves,
Dryer of dishes, fulfiller of wishes,
Bless him, O Lord.

There always seems to be a stronger emphasis placed on the importance of Mother’s Day.  Maybe it is because Father’s Day was created after Mother’s Day was officially a holiday, kind of like a afterthought.  Or maybe it is because Father’s Day cards and gifts tend to be humorous or silly (you know...the proverbial tie, or the set of golf balls, …) and Mother’s Day cards and gifts tend to be warm and sentimental (you know...flowers, or dinner at at fancy restaurant).  I also suppose that something must be said about Father’s Day falling in the summer.  Unless your child’s teacher has them make a Father’s Day gift or card before school is out, the child does not always have something for their Dad.  

There is a story that goes:
Brad was out late with friends one night. Suddenly, he realized it was Father's Day and he had neglected to buy a card for his dad. After much searching, Brad located an open store, but was disappointed to find only two cards left on the rack. Selecting one, he brought it home and presented it to his father when he woke the next morning.  Upon opening it, his dad read the message: "YOU’VE BEEN LIKE A FATHER TO ME!" He looked at Brad, puzzled. "Well, Dad," Brad tried to explain, "it was either that or the card that said, 'NOW THAT I’M A FATHER TOO!’”

I am curious how much time we Christians (who call God our Father) spend honoring our Father and Creator.   Now, I realize, that God cannot accept physical gifts (like ties and golf balls), but by taking care of the Earth and those that inhabit it, we are honoring our Father’s creation.  By putting Him center in our lives, truly making him our FIRST priority we are honoring him.  

I am reminded of a scripture passage from Psalm 24:

“The earth is the Lord's and everything in it; the world and all who live in it, for he founded it upon the seas and established it upon the waters."

God created the World.  God owns It.  God still owns it.  We are simply managers of His creation.  Of course it is human nature to think He gave the Earth to us humans.  But there is nothing in the Bible to say we “OWN” the Earth.  We are simply its stewards - put here to make sure it thrives and grows.  However, as selfish as humans can be; we must understand that God owns everything on this Earth, not us.  Yes, friends he owns the people, the animals, the person who hurt your feelings, the punk that shot up a convenience store, the dump down the street, the ghetto filled with crime and corruption.  All of us, and Everything on this Earth.  We are all HIS. 

Sometimes it is hard to imagine that God is the parent of those we do not like, and those that seem so evil in nature.  Jesus told us to love one another, but He especially meant those who seem to be unlovable.  

Jesus called his Father, Abba, which is kind of like a child calling their father, Daddy.  In this simple word, Abba, we see the intimate relationship Jesus had with his father.  Jesus made this great being somehow human and personal.  I believe that we should strive to have that kind of relationship with our Creator as well. 

As a parent, there are days that I get so angry with my girls.  I scream.  I holler.  I cry.  Some days it is so hard to love them.  And yet, I do...unconditionally.  I am sure all the Mother’s and Father’s out there completely empathize with what I am going through.  But have you ever stopped to wonder if God has days like that too.  I imagine He looks down and just grieves over what many of his Earthly stewards have done to His creation.  

We are all God’s children.  He wants us to come to Him.  His door is always open.  Open for us to live in harmony with his creation.  But how many of His children actually listen to Him, obey Him, serve Him, can truly call him “Abba”?

The song, “Welcome To My World,” albeit a classic county tune, is one of my all time favorites that includes Biblical scripture.  We sang it in my Kindergarten class (which was a Dearborn PUBLIC school if you were wondering), while Miss Wetmore played it on the piano.  In case you were wondering: Miss Wetmore is one of my inspirations, and I still sing songs taught in that class now some 30 years later.  

However, it took reading the Bible a few years back, that I realized words from the song were actual scripture passages found in Matthew 7:7 and Luke 11:9.  Knowing this has given completely new meaning of the song to me.

Welcome to my world
Won't you come on in
Miracles I guess
Still happen now and then
Step into my heart
Leave your cares behind
Welcome to my world
Built with you in mind
Knock and the door will open
Seek and you will find
Ask and you'll be given
The key to this world of mine
I'll be waiting here
With my arms unfurled
Waiting just for you
Welcome to my world
AMEN

The Circus Act

When my family made the decision to homeschool our two daughters, I was hesitant at first.  Maybe hesitant is not exactly the correct word I'm looking for...AFRAID.  I was completely paralyzed at the thought I would be in charge of providing the education for my our girls.  I already felt inadequate as a mom, and now I'm going to add to the chaos?

Here we are, over a year later, and I can honestly say that I am still afraid.  But I'm not afraid of not being capable to teach our girls, instead I am afraid I have created a circus act in my home.

I laugh when I read homeschool blogs that depict a "typical day," because in our home the ONLY thing that is guaranteed is chaos at some point in the day.  At any given time I could have a child writing an essay, another doing math, papers scattered around the floor, math manipulatives used to build minecraft houses, a dog running around the living room with a stolen toy from one of the girls, whistling tunes from one daughter, and singing from another.  A fight could break out at anytime between siblings, pets, or one from each.

However, in the chaos is exquisite perfection.  I have seen both girls grow this year; physically, emotionally, and intellectually.  Through teaching them, I have learned more than I could have imagined.  Has it been a challenge?  Of course.  Have I had to make accommodations to put homeschooling a top priority?  Of course.  However, I am actually not upset that I have to rearrange my private teaching schedule, nor am I upset that I am not home all day working on house projects waiting for the girls to come home.

A product of homeschooling, at least in our case, is that at least once or twice a week I am reminded of the continued destruction of our educational system.  A know quite a few teachers who are looking for a new career, and my heart breaks for those educators that have no choice but to persevere through adversity.  I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to get little support from parents and even less from administrators.

For many reasons, we are continuing to educate our daughters at home in the fall.  I'm getting quite fond of the circus, and cannot imagine my life any other way.