Last day of co-op

 

Today is the last day of our spring session of the homeschool co-op we are a part of during the school year.

We always come to this final day with a little bit of sadness and a little bit of relief. It is the day of wearing pajamas as per co-op “rules.” It is the day my boys say goodbye to some of their friends until next fall. It is the day that playdate promises are given.

It is the day I realize I can now reclaim four hours a week of focusing on our curriculum. It is the day I realize how important this group of homeschool moms, I mean friends, is to me in this homeschool adventure we choose. It is the day I make promises that our contact will not just be limited to emails, Facebook and text exchanges over the next few months.

It is the day I watch the final creativity of students in a joint comic book writing and comic book art class, that I teach with the creative Pamela Hodges. By the way, she is also taking part in the daily Slice of Life challenge so check out her blog too. It is the day I realize I will have to put a bit more effort into these friendships over the summer. It is the day I realize how important this group is to my family.

It is the day I realize I no longer have to pack co-op bags and snacks on Wednesday nights. It is the day that signals to me the school year is soon coming to an end. It is the day I realize that the next time we meet for co-op classes my boys will be a bit older. It is the day I realize how much I truly enjoy our homeschool life.

The last day of co-op is a day I truly treasure with a bit of sadness and a bit of relief. Now to find my slippers to go with my pjs for the day.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

Choosing to be thankful….

 

The last couple of days have been quite stressful at my house for many reasons.

I finally felt calm and at peace after I vented to a couple close friends, asked some friends to pray for me, and then took the afternoon off with my boys. Funny how an afternoon of driving around for errands while listening to audio books can be so soothing.

I came home Tuesday evening thankful instead of stressed.

Here is what I am choosing to be thankful about in the midst of the past couple of days.

I’m thankful for the times when plans suddenly change because you never know what God is protecting you from or what He has planned instead.

I’m thankful for tech support that listened and patiently worked on an issue.

I’m thankful for the pre-paid postage label to ship my son’s laptop for repairs (again for the fourth time).

I’m thankful for a little three year old, my son, who made me laugh and then spilled his slushie at the store.

I’m thankful for the cashier who told me to get a replacement slushie at no extra charge.

I’m thankful for my almost eight year old who said, mommy, I don’t like it when you are stressed.

I’m thankful for the extra tight hug he gave me at bedtime.

I’m thankful for my husband’s complete understanding when I just stand and put my head on his chest.

I’m thankful for my sister and sister-in-law who so patiently listen to my venting.

I’m thankful I have so much to be thankful for in spite of the chaos of the past few days.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

Two Lollipops, Please

 

I usually ask for two lollipops, please.

Today, I wanted to be a kid again.

Today, I wanted to be responsibility-free.

Today, I didn’t want to worry about what to feed my family for dinner.

Today, I didn’t want to worry about whether my youngest was wearing his real underwear or his imaginary ones.

Today, I didn’t want to plan out my son’s school work plan.

Today, I didn’t want to organize and coordinate all I had on my plate.

Today, I asked for three lollipops, please, at the bank drive-thru lane.

One for my oldest. One for my youngest. One for me.

For just a few minutes I was responsibility-free.

My lollipop was yellow.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

Onions and Onion Rings

 

“We’d also like an order of onion rings,” my husband told the waitress.

“But mommy, you don’t like onions,” my almost-eight-year-old turned and said to me.

Instantly, I was taken back to having dinner with friends almost 12 years ago.

—

“What would you like?” asked the waitress.

“A such-and-such sandwich. Please make sure there are no onions,” I answered.

“And what would you like?” she asked my husband.

“A such-and-such sandwich. And no onions please,” he answered.

“Would you like an appetizer?” she asked.

“Onion rings,” we responded jointly.

Giggles came from our friends at the table. The waitress stifled a chuckle.

“What?” I asked our friends.

“Oh. No onions but onion rings. Yeah, we don’t quite understand that either,” I answered with a smile.

—

I don’t like onions.

I like onion rings.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

It’s the Shoes

 

On Saturday, I walked confidently into the cycling class.

On Tuesday, I had hesitated as I entered the room.

—

On Saturday, I walked directly to a cycling bike.

On Tuesday, I had pondered which bike I would claim.

—

On Saturday, the instructor welcomed me to the class.

On Tuesday, the instructor had asked “Is this your first class?”

—

On Saturday, I knew my rehabilitated hip would stay in place during and after class.

On Tuesday, I had wondered if my hip could handle such strain after taking off six months.

—

On Saturday, the instructor looked me in the eye when she asked my name.

On Tuesday, the instructor glanced at the “extra” around my belly when she asked who I was.

—

On Saturday, I confidently earned my sweat.

On Tuesday, I had repetitively checked the clock.

—

On Saturday, I wore my cycling shoes with the clips.

On Tuesday, I had worn my clunky tennis shoes.

—

Yes. It’s the shoes.

The shoes always make the difference.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

playing in the rain

 

My youngest son and I went to the gym first thing this morning.

When we left the gym, it was raining.

“Look at that puddle. Go jump in it.”

Splash. Splash. Giggles.

My youngest son and I ran to the store to pick up a few things.

When we left, it was still raining.

“Look at that puddle. Go jump in it.”

Splash. Splash. Giggles.

When my youngest son and I got home, I asked him to get the newspaper and recycling bin from the curb.

It has stopped raining.

“See that huge puddle. Go jump in it.”

Splash. Splash. Giggles.

“But no. The newspaper doesn’t get thrown in the puddle.”

Splash. Splash. Giggles.

How about you?  Do you see that puddle over there?

Go jump in it. Then wait. You will hear it too.

Splash. Splash. Giggles.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

What to write about today?

 

What to write about today?

I could finish the draft I started about the songs on my workout mix. That will take too much work. I’ll have to listen to the songs and highlight which lyrics inspire me to lift harder or walk faster. Although I can easily say that Legs by ZZ Top is my favorite song to listen to while doing squats, Romanian Deadlifts or  running.

I could start the draft on what I have learned through this challenge. How I have become more confident in my informal writing.  I shake my head as I remember a former client who once told me I wrote too formally. Did I mention he is a former client! In my defense, I do a lot of formal writing, but he seemed to neglect the different types and purposes for writing!

I could write about my morning routine.  How I curl up on the couch with a blanket after kissing my husband and watching him walk to his car for his commute to work. How I sit in the dark with my iPad checking slices and local news websites, scrolling through twitter and facebook, and logging my son into his online school. All while balancing a cup of coffee between the couch cushions and listening to the local news and weather.  Yes – I don’t know why I check the websites while I’m watching the news too!

I could write about how I need to work on creating my superhero, villain and comic book pages to share with my homeschool co-op class next week at our final class. After all, it is important to show the students that I struggled, too, with creating what seems so simple. It is all in my head at this point. How many times do I tell the kids, “You have great ideas in your brain. We just need to get them on the paper now.”  I tell that to myself now.

I could write about how the novelty of vision therapy is wearing off after one month.  My son is still all smiles when we go, but there is a slower pace in his steps. Oh and then I could compare it to the novelty wearing off on working out, eating right, watching how I spend money. Yet we continue forward while seeing the small slow progress of better reading, less weight, feeling better and having more money.

I could write about how baseball season is starting for our family. Is it bad that I am secretly cheering when I see rain in the forecast? I could mention the parallels I see between my sons growing up in athletics versus how I grew up traveling on motorcycles. How I could expand on this “sports mom” life I never expected, or how I see sports families in my childhood a bit differently now. Now, I will just leave it that I secretly cheer for rain.

I could write about how I panicked when I expected my husband and son to be home any minute. Instead, I heard sirens all around, and my husband wasn’t answering my phone calls. And he wondered why I called him eight times in a ten-minute window. If only he would have answered his phone and put my mind to ease.

But I don’t write about any of those.

Well, actually, I did just write about all of those.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

A Good Day of Homeschooling

 

A good day of homeschooling for us equals:

a lot of progress made in our curriculum.

missed phone calls.

a lot of hours tracked for the day.

a very messy house.

a slow response on emails.

a table full of papers, notes and pencils.

a short slice.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

Hitting the Send Button

 

I thought I had it under control.

I thought I knew how to make sure it wouldn’t become an issue.

But now I sit and know it isn’t true.

I stare at a finished article.  One part of my brain says, “Get your email ready, attach the file and hit send.”

The other part says,  “Read it one more time. What if you missed something?  What if you could change one more word? What if you could move a sentence or a paragraph? What if you could make it better?”

I just need one, two, maybe five minutes max, I tell myself.  It’s not quite ready. Just one more time. I promise only one more time to read it.

Instead, I shake my head, close my eyes, breathe, put my head in my hands and slowly pull my fingers through my hair.

Yes, my greatest strength is truly my greatest weakness.

I am still a perfectionist.

I take another deep breath, sit up straight, stretch my arms in front of me and stare at the article.

It will have to be ready.  I write my email, attach the file and hit send.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.

Baby Showers and Ventilators

 

“Oh, you won’t be at her baby shower?” the secretary asked me with a curious expression.

I wanted to scream. Had she not read the company-wide email that my infant son had died shortly after birth? Had she forgotten that everyone in the offices should have known about our son’s severe problems? Had she not remembered that I had been pregnant, gave birth, and buried my son only a few short months before? Had she not realized how her simple question seemed so insincere?

“Um, I can’t do baby showers right now. Will you please make sure she gets this gift?” I softly answered.

I quickly handed over the small gift bag with lotions and a gift card. The only type of gift I could bring myself to buy at that time. I swiftly turned and walked out the department’s door. I was trying to walk bravely. I was trying to not run toward the door.  I was trying to not cry.

—

It’s nine years, two healthy boys and four of my own baby showers later. I still struggle with baby showers. I still breathe a deep breath before walking into a room full of baby excitement.  I still rehearse in my head the options of what I could say.

Cue the smile. Cue the laughter. Cue the oohs and ahhs. Cue the responses of yes, that is a cute outfit.  I try my hardest to live in the moment of joy, but inside my head I am reminded.

Reminded that any shower plans for our son were quickly halted when we found out about his severe trisomy 13.

Reminded that a trip to plan a baby registry was quickly replaced with a trip to plan end-of-life options with a neonatologist.

Reminded that while others planned baby showers, birthing plans and nursery colors, my husband and I were deciding on feeding tubes, comfort care and ventilators for our unborn son.

Reminded that while others sat at stores with the lady who was about to hand over the scanning device to fill a baby registry, we sat with a doctor who specializes in caring for ill newborns.

Reminded that while others can’t decide between the light blue or the bright green crib set and probably driving some store clerk crazy, we were saying to the neonatologist, “Yes. We want this decision. Wait, no, we want this decision. Oh wait, we don’t know what the best decision is yet.” She was so very patient with us, and we were able to come to concrete decisions.

I will still go to baby showers.  I hope I still get invited to them after this post. I will still take a deep breath before walking into a room full of baby excitement. I will still pick out the cute outfit or impractical necessity on someone’s baby wish list.

But more importantly, I will think back to when we made important decisions for our son. Decisions that went way beyond nursery decor, wipes warmers and baby registries.

—

I have to admit, the last two sentences surprised me when I wrote them.  I was surprised at how I could go from the emotions of the memory, to the emotions at baby showers, to the realization of the real memory  that connects me to Aidan and baby showers.

I’m attempting to take part in the “The Fifth Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge” through the month of March. The challenge is run by Two Writing Teachers.