School 2015

I feel like I overdosed on children and I'm lying comatose on the floor of my closet. When I wake up I have no trouble accepting the fact that I have very nearly lost control of my life entirely.

But I just can't quit these kids.


School started.


Luke loves second grade.  He loves his teacher and his friends.  He loves recess and math.  He just loves it all.

Max was hesitant. Tentative.  He wanted to like school but he was still a little nervous.

And he was really not happy about me wanting to take his picture.

 I can't say, "I can't believe he's in kindergarten!" because he just missed the cut off last year so it's more like, "It's about time he was in kindergarten."  He is ready, even if he is apprehensive.


A few days before school started, I got a call from his kindergarten bus driver.  She would pick him up right in front of our house and the only other kids on the bus would be kindergartners as well.

I hadn't really considered him riding the bus but this sounded kind of dreamy.

So I talked it up like a grade A motivational speaker and after thinking about it, Max bought in, on the condition that I draw two hearts on each hand and give him eight hugs and eight kisses before he got on the bus.

I didn't expect Finn to be quite so disappointed that he couldn't ride too, but once he figured out that no amount of screaming was going to get him on the bus, he now just gets really excited to see it each day and giggles uncontrollably as it drives away with Max waving through the window.

Ava and I have started fifth grade homeschool.  And I'm not gonna lie, it's been hard.  Really, really hard.

If you looked around, you'd see the blame, perched proudly under the tiny, dangling-off-the-edge-of-the-sofa feet of Finn and Jack.

Let me illustrate.

Ava and I are at the table in the basement, adjacent to a plethora available toys,  playing a math game.  But despite those toys, both little boys insist on being over with us.  Fine. We can work with that.

 As we're playing, we come upon a concept that Ava is not understanding and so I begin to write out some patterns on the white board behind me.  It's a little hard with Finn sitting on my lap, to turn around in my seat and write, but I manage a slew of numbers and begin to explain. When wouldn't you know it, Jack begins screaming.  It's because he doesn't like the feeling of the crayon wax he's just eaten, stuck in his teeth.  Ava's frustration grows because the light bulb hasn't turned on yet and babies are screaming.

I leave Finn to retrieve Jack, scrape out the wax between wails and I turn around to see that Finn, standing on my chair, has just erased the last of the columns worth of patterns I'd written on the board.

Yeah, it's like that.

After a couple of days of it, I started working on Ava, trying to get her to see that if we pushed some of our lessons back to the afternoon, during nap time, at least part of our work could be done without the dooby brothers.  She really likes to get her work done, she hates the idea of it hanging over her head and I can't blame her, but I was honestly doubting my ability to teach and hers to learn in the above mentioned environment.  She finally agreed to give it a try and I am just praying everyday that soon, every single one of us, will find our mojo.  

I'm trying really hard to take some deep breathes in hopes of relieving the great pressure I feel as a mother/teacher combination.  If I could only see the future.  If I only knew whether she'd want to return to public school at some point, or if she will have a great desire to go to a University and need to take the ACT.  There's just so much I don't know, that if I did, would greatly impact how and what I taught.

As we've worked together these past few months, I've gained greater insight and much greater appreciation for the way Ava's mind works.  But even so, it is really still so much a mystery.  She is smart, there's no doubt. But the way she thinks and learns is so very different.  I hope that one day we will both understand it better and that she will come to enjoy the act of learning.  Right now it is such a chore that it is, not surprisingly, hard for her to enjoy.   Though I must say, coming home has been the best thing for her.  She actually says that she likes homeshool and she looks forward to it, which is such a huge win, even the dynamic duo can't drown it out!

In an effort to rearrange the day, we've taken advantage of the beautiful weather and gone on a walk each morning.

I was so sad the neighborhood decided to develop the green space near our house, but at least it provides all the diggers and dirt a little boy could dream of.

And we finally ventured down to the stream that runs behind our neighborhood park.

I anticipate a few more trips there in the future.

I've been struggling to find my peace these days.  To not let my worry about the future, about the unknown, rob me of my ability to be productive and happy.  It has been a struggle.  I want so badly to hand my children a future they're excited about.

I keep having the thought come to mind that I need to dive into my scriptures.  Whether they give me literal answers or spiritual promptings, they always, always give me peace when I read them consistently.

When I returned to the school after the first day of kindergarten, my boys rounded the corner like this. Of course I cried and took a picture. And if this scene is any indication, 

I'm sure there will be some rain and difficulty this year, but as long as we can hold hands through it (and not sell our babies on Ebay) I think we'll be just fine.