life according to aesop
sometimes i find myself feeling guilty that we are not more schoolish around here, but then my mind and heart are quickly put at ease when i remember the benefits of our Learning Lifestyle: children that are LIVING and LOVING. learning skills which have long-term effects and not just “sitting at a desk all the day long.” these children are gaining wisdom and knowledge. they are communicating with adults and peers and doing it well. they are learning what REAL life is all about. this is what education is all about. this is the REAL world.
i wish i could give credit to the author of those words. they are not mine. i found them around the same time that i found: fret not my soul, on God rely.
they were words that i needed during this particular point in my day. week. month. year. season.
the season wherein piano lessons and algebra. british literature and american government are added to an already busy schedule.
the season wherein the middle boy struggles to find a clear thesis statement. and the mama struggles with the overwhelming burden of just being the mama.
the mama whose clearest thesis statement would be that homeschooling and parenting are each a daunting task on their own.
combine the two and, well, sometimes there is a spontaneous combustion of sorts.
and you just have to scratch everything you thought you knew and live life according to aesop: slow and steady wins the race.
because when everything blows up in your face and you sit amidst the wreakage of your illusions….there comes this wonderful sense of detachment from those illusions.
you know them too, don’t you? the ones of the perfect homeschool. the perfect life. the perfect marriage. perfect meals….a perfect house.
and you get a grip on the reality that is your life. and that life needs work. and unless that work is united to something greater. SOMEONE greater…then you might as well curl up in a ball and die.
so there are sticky oatmeal kisses. and close body contact during story time. an early morning coffee date with the husband. rubbing faces with a stubbly-faced man-child who has the capacity to make your blood boil and heart melt almost simultaneously.
fervor is renewed by seeing the baby walking around the yard with a pick ax slung over his shoulder. observing ants and fallen eggshells.
yes, finding that clear thesis statement is a struggle.
but anything worth doing well is worth the struggle, my father once told me.
a dear priest friend said to me just this morning that there is strength and courage in the Sacrificial Heart.
strength and courage.
more words that aren’t mine. but i would so like to make them my own.
one step at a time.