When I find something I love or believe in I talk about it incessantly. That’s sort of my thing….talking about my current obsession (like here or here orrrrrr here). I go on and on sharing how this one thing I’m doing is life changing and you should TOTALY try the thing too. I’m the thing’s biggest fan. And, eventually, at some point I no longer have use for the thing and end up eating my words.
I run into Blogreader Emily. She tried the thing. She loves the thing. She wonders how it’s going with me and the thing. I have to blush and confess to Blogreader Emily that I actually stopped my thing love affair 3 months back.
That happened with homeschooling. Homeschooling was the world’s greatest thing. Until it wasn’t. Until I was suffocating.
Look. I’m trying to tell you that my kids are going to be in school next year. And I want you to know that I feel such a freaking weight lifted. I feel so much peace knowing they’ll be in school. I cannot freaking wait to drop their little asses off and drive away.
I’m gonna share with you that the easiest kid to parent was the hardest kid to homeschool and I’m just done and she is just done and we are SO READY to wear stupid drug week Hawaiian shirts and pack lunches and rush in the evenings. I’m eating my words because it’s just who I am. I eat words. That’s me.
Here’s the thing. Life if full of seasons. There are seasons where you homeschool and there are seasons where you don’t and I have learned to ride the wave each season brings and not fight against it or buy into the shame I inevitably feel when I’m not meeting another season’s expectations.
Some seasons we dim the lights as my family reverently gathers at the kitchen table around our advent wreath. Aaaaaaand some seasons I hang this sucker up (picture below) with scotch tape, throw a chocolate kiss in each day and we call it good.
(PS- Have you checked out holyart.com? You can buy one of these puppies here for $25.)
Right now I’m all about simple. And whatever feels easy to me is what I’m going to do (because I’m selfish, mainly, but also) because my kids deserve the best version of me. And I’ve learned that the very best version of me is usually the woman who is not drowning in unmet expectations.
Right now, in this moment, the best version of me drops them off with poorly packed lunch boxes and speeds away. That’s the best me I can be right now and I’m cool with that.