The Autodidact

The last few months have been full of ruined plans, emptiness and frustration, to the point where I just don't plan anything anymore. Long story, and it's not the point here anyway. But the Master Planner really pulled one off this week. The 9 yr old had his adenoids out (OK, that was planned) and I had arranged for my older adult kids to help out around the house while my husband and I were away for several hours. We left the house at 8:10 and the 21 year old arrived moments later. He plugged in his music to our stereo, cranked it, and proceeded to cook a big breakfast of pancakes, sausage and bacon. The kids awoke to a shaking house and delicious smells. Then he cleaned up the kitchen and helped his 6 year old sister with her math, while the rest of the kids did their schoolwork. The 23 year old arrived later and settled in to wait to snuggle her baby brother. We got to the house to find the 15 year old cooking a lovely soup with the assistance of his 18 and 12 year o...

The days pass so quickly here at home. It seems I was just starting out with my oldest three kids just a couple of years ago, instead of being some 17 years into this journey of parenthood. In an earlier  post  I discussed my distaste for the word "homeschooling" and so I may slip into it from time to time, for lack of a better word, or to be clearer to those reading this who are new to this way of life. But really, all I am doing is being a mom. And for all its trials and messes and bad days, there are so many moments that I treasure up in my heart and mind, and, occasionally, on my camera. I love catching the kids doing mundane things.  Average things. Quiet things. On their own, just being themselves. The 6 year old reading her Calvin and Hobbes before getting up for a late breakfast. The 9 year old reading a book or building with Legos in his room. The 12 year old reading her Bible or listening to music and knitting, or playing dolls with her little sister. Th...

Kids ask so many questions. Usually when I have not had a full cup of coffee or while I am reading the paper or doing chores. I so quickly forget that my kids ARE my primary job, until they start hammering me with their questions. And they aren't simple, easy ones, like "what's for dinner?"(look at the menu, please) or "have you seen my shoes?" (right where you left them, I would imagine). No, they're hard questions like "why does God let Satan tempt us?"(Um, let's wait for daddy to get home), or "how was Jesus born one day, but he also made the world long before that?" (let me have some coffee first, sweetie). And their timing is their own. They have a need for knowledge, and they ask for it immediately, rather than waiting for a good time. Because that's their job. My job is to stop what I am doing, if possible, and answer as best I can. But sometimes they ask a question, and we talk, and a day later I am hit with an epiph...