Suddenly a homeschool mom

Just like most other moms out there, I am suddenly a homeschool teacher.
I never wanted to home school my kids. Not even a little bit, not even for a second. Never at any point in the last 28 years of parenting did it, even for a second, seem like a good idea. I never thought I could do a better job at home, I never doubted that public school was where they should be educated.  Even when things were tough and we got a teacher that wasn't a good fit. Even when we had to sit outside the school crying together because that kid, that day, had to be talked into going.
And yet, here I am, at home, schooling my youngest two children. Teaching 4th and 6th grade kids.
But you know what? It's working so far. And I feel good about it and they are way happier than I thought they would be doing school work at home. Crazy.

If only it was still grey outside
then I would feel normal
for my brain being sick.
But no, it is only brightness, and white, and bright.
So being immobilized feels even more wrong.

I try.
I don't try.
The bottle comes out earlier
day by day.

I can't have another thing
to recover from.
I just can't.

Seven years later

As I made the last post, I realized the date of my post before that was seven, ----seven---- years ago.
That's how busy I was, how sick I was, how overwhelmed I was.
I have a lot to write about since then.
Let's kick this into gear.





Seven years later:
Oh my gosh! It's been another seven years! How crazy! So much has happened since then!


Kill me.  Why can't I just write?  I like it, although it is really just like talking to myself.

Thoughts on peri-menopause, menopause, or whatever this point in my life is

I was thinking of doing a twitter feed of funny/alarming/ridonkulous pre-menopause "stuff", but then I remembered that I have a blog I never use, so why waste a good thing.  Use the thing that no one reads or knows about instead of the thing that people seem to pay attention to.

I probably don't know my login info for twitter anymore anyway.

1. PMS, Menopause, or am I just a permanent bitch now?

2. What is that smell and is it me?

3. My alcohol consumption: a problem or the thing that is keeping my family alive today? (or both)

4. Why do my feet hurt?

5. I hate you, oh no wait, I love you so so much, please let me hug you.

That's as far as I have gotten.  Considering what a prolific writer I am, I'll continue in another 3 years or so.

 

CHICKEN GIRL: Life Changes On A Dime

CHICKEN GIRL: Life Changes On A Dime: "Life changes on a dime"....one of the last things I said to my 8-year old son one recent Sunday as I laid in the sun twirling his blond hair...

Ordinary Life- a favorite poem

Ordinary Life

This was a day when nothing happened,
the children went off to school
without a murmur, remembering
their books, lunches, gloves.
All morning, the baby and I built block stacks
in the squares of light on the floor.
And lunch blended into naptime,
I cleaned out kitchen cupboards,
one of those jobs that never gets done,
then sat in a circle of sunlight
and drank ginger tea,
watched the birds at the feeder
jostle over lunch's little scraps.
A pheasant strutted from the hedgerow,
preened and flashed his jeweled head.
Now a chicken roasts in the pan,
and the children return,
the murmur of their stories dappling the air.
I peel carrots and potatoes without paring my thumb.
We listen together for your wheels on the drive.
Grace before bread.
And at the table, actual conversation,
no bickering or pokes.
And then, the drift into homework.
The baby goes to his cars, drives them
along the sofa's ridges and hills.
Leaning by the counter, we steal a long slow kiss,
tasting of coffee and cream.
The chicken's diminished to skin & skeleton,
the moon to a comma, a sliver of white,
but this has been a day of grace
in the dead of winter,
the hard cold knuckle of the year,
a day that unwrapped itself
like an unexpected gift,
and the stars turn on,
order themselves
into the winter night.

Barbara Crooker

On becoming Granny at 40, part 1

Some how after a lifetime of no patience to finish projects, I managed to not only teach myself how to crochet, but to actually finish several projects this Winter.  I am amazed still.  They were small projects, baby beanie hats, baby slippers, baby sweaters- small and easy to actually finish before getting bored- but a major accomplishment for me. 
Why, after all these years, do I suddenly have the ability to pick up a hobby and actually do something with it?  Maybe because although I am only 40 and half of my kids are under the age of four, I am going to be a Grandma soon.  Maybe I am just too tired to stay up cleaning any more and if I am actually doing something with my hands, people tend to let me (or more like I let me)- sit.