The kids are outside, cold and soaked by the snow. We had our first snowfall yesterday early morning, but snow in October seems too early for me. Last year it was sometime in mid-November. We still have green leaves on the trees out there.
The days have been fairly simple here. I almost said straight-forward, but that would’ve been the wrong word. I’ve just felt a slowness settling in, like I’m ready to curl up and sleep for the winter. I’m a human, however, and humans don’t hibernate.
I’m having thoughts again about leaving this blog behind. It used to be that my thoughts would flow freely here, and now I just feel like I’m in standing in a stagnant pond. I’ve actually considered starting another blog, one where I could foster more community among women. I’m having a hard time with the day-to-day aloneness, almost like I have no one else’s energy to draw from, or to put in in a less-healthy sounding way, feed on.
My son is doing great in school. I almost, almost, envy his chance to be plugged right into routine, stimulation, community, and challenge. I don’t really think about him much during the day, and he’s starting to come home asking to do things like ride the fan-bus to watch the volleyball team play in the regional championship. He’s got his driver’s permit in his wallet, and though he’s not as eager to hop into the driver’s seat, he drove me down the country road home last week. His first quarter grades were straight A+’s.
It’s funny how every child is so different. You can’t replicate children, and there’s no way to give the others everything you gave the one. My oldest child will have a different life than my second child, who will have a different life from the third child, and so on. My youngest two boys are slowly learning to read at ages 6 and 8, but they also get dressed, make their beds, and clean their room most mornings without me even telling them.
Not too long ago I was texting with two other stay-at-home moms, each who are pregnant with their ninth or tenth child (not including infant losses and miscarriages). The one who has homeschooled her children from day one joked about how her life has been mainly one of teaching kids to use the bathroom and to read. She was joking about that being her worthy contribution to the world and I affirmed that, indeed, it truly was.
I sometimes wonder, “Lord, am I wasting something?” Am I supposed to being doing something more than I’m doing? And I don’t mean in terms of wondering whether or not being a wife and mother is “good enough”. It is. It 100% absolutely is. But if I’d spent more time, would the kids be reading more by now? Should I be a better cook and meal-planner by now? After all these years, should my house be less cluttered and more organized by now? Must I master these things before I can justify doing anything else?