write on

i have started and stopped this post at least four times in the last couple of weeks.

the title was all wrong and for me when the title is all wrong, well, then the whole post is off…

so what does a lazy perfectionist do in a situation like this?

she. they don’t write anything. that’s what.

and then she they can’t sleep really well for many nights because there are all of these unwritten thoughts swirling around in the head of said lazy perfectionist.

which is not me of course.

wink. wink.

so. as i make this last-ditch. late nite effort to “write on”: what do i want to tell this space?

:: that the baby is reading green eggs and ham. yup. all 63 pages of it. over and over again. almost ad nauseum. and i wouldn’t say that if i weren’t just so darned happy that he is actually reading!

::that the quiet, pensive middle boy turned 14. big sigh. i told him that he couldn’t do that to me. but that’s a whole ‘nother post! because everything isn’t about me. (except, well, maybe here it is!)

::that the daddy had a birthday. 36. but he is a lot like peter pan…so…need i say more? ahem.

::that the biggest boy got his driver’s license. (it came in the mail today and i wanted to send it back). “that is someone else’s grown child!!” i wanted to scream at the postman. (i didn’t of course). what would the neighbors think anyway? we are already weird ’cause we homeschool.

::that the little girl got her stitches out today. and how we are finally done with that blasted needle…and we are really careful now about needles and other sharp things and where we stick them. etc. etc.

::that the biggest girl moved out and turns 18 in 2 weeks. that she sends me snail mail and it makes me cry.

::that i like to whistle the 1812 overture sometimes and the little girl whistles along with me!!! (can you just hear us?)

::that i am thinking a lot about school. lesson plans. earlier bedtimes. and winding down….

:: that i am thinking about the enormous task of homeschooling a child who asks me things like: “mom, would you rather die by burning hot volcanic lava or freeze to death?”

the jury is still out on that one.

i wasn’t quite able to decide…

 

here

i am.

staring alternately between the computer screen and a most glorious sunset.

the sky is pink. and purple. with bits of grey. and wispy clouds.

it was a gloomy stormy day. i woke up to the pitter patter of rain. made my way to mass. came home and stared at a dark. still sleeping house. dirty pots and pans littered the kitchen counter. plates were left on the table from dinner last nite. never cleared. because i was just too tired.

and i then i was mad. mad because things are always falling apart around here in one way or the other. it seems like i can’t turn my attention elsewhere for one second or chaos takes over.

you would never know that i had received Holy Communion just minutes earlier. it doesn’t take me that long to get home. what is wrong with me you might say. or maybe you feel this way too.

spiritual dryness perhaps?

or i am in need of a good cry?

i am.

the immense responsibility of homeschooling is a heavy, heavy burden.

but burdensome and beautiful. sweet and sour. agony and ecstasy.

so many contradictions, huh?

it is something i often have a hard time putting into words without someone misunderstanding me.

after all i chose this cross didn’t i?

well, sort of.

because there really was no other alternative.

the schools here are bad. in a very bad way.

and so this is the right thing to do.

read:

“when your soul is crushed with sorrow, know that it is crowded with God. a man or woman without suffering of some kind would be like a world without Divine Revelation. they would know only the twilight of God, but see dimly His vestiges and know Him almost not at all.”

not my words. but oh so consoling.

i am crushed. sorrowful.

and yet i am constantly, albeit very gently reminded that it is ok.

there are still rainbows and sunsets. promises and hope.

i have not thrown the towel in yet.

i am still trying to get used to being in the passenger’s seat. in more ways than one.

as of today we officially have our first young driver here too. one more reason for me to forever remain sorrowful. and crushed.

but it’s all just part of this season.

this season of raising children. big and little.

an exhausting season wherein quite often i, weakly raise my hand…

still crushed and sorrowful.

and say “here i am….”

and i wait for HIM to pick me up.

again.

and again.

 

exchanging nice-eties

thank you for all of your sweet birthday wishes! i really wish i had the time to write an individual note to every person that wished me well yesterday. just know you are in my thoughts and prayers.

it was a lovely day. the weather. the company. the homemade cards. birthday poem. and the two cakes. yes, there were two cakes. it’s as if the ones i love are trying to make me fatt-er. God bless them.

someone taught the baby to ride his bike sans training wheels yesterday. there should be rules against this sort of thing on mama’s birthday. i didn’t need to have a piece of my heart torn out.

“i am kind of a big boy now,” he told me. rubbing salt in the wound.

i realize that this same someone is just picking up where the biggest brother left off with him. this is something siblings do. helping each other to grow up. a concept completely foreign to me. the only child. the helping part. not the growing up.

i am, after all, a grown up now.

changing the subject a bit: my first japanese iris bloomed. how tall and graceful she is.

this is blooming too. i thought it was a hollyhock at first. but now i am not so sure. i would like to know though. i like to be on a first name basis with all of the members of my garden.

i’d like to know that gopher’s name too so i can yell at him to go bother someone else!

well, i’ll leave this space now. wishing you all blooming flowers. soft yarn. sticky baby kisses and cake. and any and all other nice-eties that your heart desires. it is still easter people. hooray!

but i have to get back to my spring cleaning.

except i never got to bleaching those sinks.

not yet anyway.