Be Joyful and Consider

"In the day of prosperity be joyful, and in the day of adversity consider: God has made the one as well as the other, so that man may not find out anything that will be after him."

--Ecclesiastes 7:14 (ESV)

God has made the one as well as the other.

I am thinking about this verse lately.  My husband just celebrated one year in remission, one year since he finished his grueling, brutal radiation treatments and we moved home. So of course we were joyful about that; I was downright ebullient! 

There have also been Hard Things this month. I'm a little glad to see September wrapping up, simply because although it is often my favorite month, and it's my birthday month, this one was tough.  Some of the things were piddly,minor headaches and not worth mentioning.  Some have been larger but I also won't mention them (except to say that last week in an MRI I found out I have an allergy to gadolinium; let's just say it's not fun to find that out.....and that I'm so glad our car insurance pays for 100% of the damage from hitting a deer....) And one thing is very large but simply cannot be mentioned at all at this time.  I'm not meaning to be mysterious; it's just that sometimes it's not my story to tell.

 I am seriously praying that October will be easier, that somehow I'll have the wisdom to navigate the must-dos and let go of everything else, and that God will grant us grace and health (I have two sick children right now!) and wisdom.

In the midst of it I've been trying to sew a little.  Trying to read here and there. Trying to get enough rest.  Trying to eat (thanks to a stomach bug earlier this month I'm at an all-time low adult weight....I haven't weighed less than this since.....elementary school? I don't know!).  Trying to breathe. Trying to manage my distractions.  Trying to be kind. Trying to remember that I'm not really in a place in life where I can operate like I did 5 years ago. Many things have changed.

Yet again I come face to face with the fact that, for whatever reason, in this season of life things are challenging for me, and I need to keep things streamlined and simple.  And I need to rest. 

God has made the one as well as the other. 

And so I will take each day as it comes, and give thanks and gratitude for the lessons we learn along the way. 

And most of all, huge thanks for this: one year of remission.  One down.  Four to go. Praise be to God!

Minimalist Schooling: 7th and 3rd Grades

I recently wrote that I'm going through a challenging time*...something about still recovering from a year devoted to cancer treatments + a (minor, but annoying) physical issue of my own + exhaustion + + burnout + ?? and that one of my priorities this fall is school...but very, very minimalistic school. Even more minimalistic than my usual educational minimalism!

I have spent a lot of time thinking this, and re-thinking this.  Even before I was hit with burnout, I was carrying on a school-related conversation with wise Susan, whose perspective was invaluable to me, especially once I realized I needed to really re-group.

I don't know how things will unfold after the New Year, but for this fall semester, I am basically going to take my children to their normally-scheduled activities, and fill in a little bit of school at home around that.   What this means is that I'll be flexible with what I consider "school." Our activities outside the home provide a nice framework for learning.....

Robotics club? That's a lab science!

Ballet?  That's physical education!

Obviously music lessons count.

Our Charlotte Mason-based co-op provides my children with weekly lessons on Plutarch (2 lives/year), Shakespeare (2 plays/year), brush drawing, recitation, architecture, and handicrafts. I am so grateful for this!

Spanish class for both kids and my son's French tutor take care of foreign languages.  (Thank you God, for people who teach these classes!  My son loves languages and I can't teach them at his level! He is very serious about getting fluent, and I'm rusty at best in French and Latin.)

So those are a nice framework!

At home we will do:

Bible (daily at breakfast--that's the thing I'm best at in terms of consistency)

math lessons (Finn uses Math U See and Annie uses Horizons)

read-alouds or audio books (thanks Sarah! I need to do more audio books!)

daily music practice

chores!!

(and my children will have homework for French, Spanish, architecture, and robotics, but they'll do that on their own)

And then occasionally, and only when I'm feeling up to it:

grammar/language arts-type things when and where we can (lower priority, but my son loves grammar and actually does it daily on his own--the joy of parenting an auto-didact!)(Annie uses The Good and the Beautiful Level 2 Language Arts, which we are really liking, and Finn uses Junior Analytical Grammar, which he loves and is almost done with, we'll transition to the next level soon)(also, Annie coaxed me into buying this book at Staples the other day and she's zooming through it....yes, my Charlotte Mason-educated daughter loves workbooks! why not!)

a history lesson (both kids together, using The Good and the Beautiful Year 1 History, which is very open-and-go and user-friendly, and lends itself nicely to Charlotte Mason's teaching methods)

And my children are also selling at the farmer's market once a month.  So that's handicrafts, economics, math, social skills.....

That's it. I don't think I can manage more.

But when I list it like that, even though in daily life it is pretty minimalistic, there's a lot going on.  We're covering Bible, math, literature, history, citizenship, music, physical education, life skills, crafts, art, science, and foreign languages.  And there's lots of margin for my children to pursue additional interests as well. (They both love to write!) This isn't a bad way to operate, it allows us to take part in the outside activities that we value and that I cannot teach (make no mistake that I'm incapable of leading robotics club or teaching ballet!), and gives us flexibility and breathing room.

I'm also taking an entire week off in October, part of Thanksgiving week, and either 3 or 4 weeks off in December/January.  And we want to really enjoy autumn, Thanksgiving, and the Advent and Christmas seasons!

This will be it for us this fall, and over our Christmas break I'll revisit things and see what to add, subtract, or swap.

I'm hopeful that this approach--using our outside activities as a framework, and filling in with the basics at home--will help me regain my sense of joy and energy, which are so important to me in leading my children and loving my family.

*               *              *

*Funny side note: I originally wrote this last weekend.  In the course of this one week:

 -We have had a new roof put on

-We trapped 2 feral kittens & surrendered them to a vet friend who will give them medical care and find them a good home--but I was sad because I had developed quite a relationship with one of them over the past month of feeding them on my porch at night..... :(

-I came down with a stomach bug that still (on day 4) has me SO hungry yet with no appetite, and down to my lowest weight ever (LIKE EVER--I am sure I weighed less at some point in my childhood...maybe middle school?? late elementary school??); this is not ideal, and I really miss eating.

-I completely forgot an orthodontist appointment (in my defense, it was the first day of the stomach bug).

-My husband hit a deer on the way to work and his car is now in the shop indefinitely (he's fine, thankfully!).

-Our thermostat completely went kaput (hoping my husband can fix it tomorrow!)

-A few days after her Nutcracker audition, Annie twisted her ankle

-Was up 8+ times in one night with our geriatric dog (when you go to bed at 10:30 and at 3:30 realize that you've already been up 6 times, that's what we call not a good night's sleep). Usually I'm only up 3-4 times with him.

....it's no wonder I'm tired!  And it's no wonder that I need minimalism these days.

Here's hoping that I can start eating again (!!) this weekend, that I will not miss appointments or beg off of obligations in the coming week, that no one will have any other car incidents, that the dog will sleep well, and most of all that I'll have a clear and clean and uneventful and un-newsworthy and unremarkable visit to the oncology specialist on Tuesday.  Whew.

May it be so!

The End of Herself

In church last week our pastor was preaching on the woman who had the bleeding illness for 12 years, and was healed after simply touching the bottom of Jesus' garment. During the sermon our pastor was trying to express the severity of this woman's plight: she was outcast from her community, she was sick, probably anemic, she'd spent all her money on doctors and had not gotten better, "she was," our pastor said, "at the end of herself" when she came to Jesus and just tried to touch the hem of his robe, in faith that she'd somehow be healed.  And she was.

This phrase stuck in my mind because I felt it described how I've been recently.  No, I do not have a disease that has caused me to lose all money and hope of cure, so that's not really what I mean. But I have been overwhelmed, exhausted, and confused.

We started school back in July.  This seemed reasonable; we'd missed a lot due to my husband's cancer treatments in 2018, and the long, lazy days of summer seemed to almost beg for a little more structure.  We did a bit of schoolwork and also went to the pool and spent tons of time playing outside, and that was alright. But as August progressed, and our fall schedule loomed, I grew weary. At one point I told my husband "I'm feeling burned out."  And he looked at his watch in jest.  "I KNOW!" I responded. "It's only August! This is not good."

For the first time ever, I was genuinely tired of being both the teacher and the mother.  I just wanted to be the mother! I wanted to be in charge of the fun things, but not responsible for anyone's educational experience.  The idea of school exhausted me. I texted a few friends for prayers.  This isn't good, I noted, because I'm already such a minimalist that I can't cut anything else out!

Contemporaneously with all this, I was diagnosed with a physical issue that had caused some trouble for a few months.  It appears to be relatively minor, but it's annoying.  (I'm being sent to an oncologist next week for a second opinion to be SURE they think it's minor; I feel confident that it is.) So I began to change my diet and sleep routine in an attempt to heal the issue naturally, since the only medical treatment is a major surgery that I definitely want to avoid!

I'm a champion sleeper, but recently I've found myself awake at 3a.m. some nights, blinking into the darkness and not quite sure why. I'm more scattered than usual. I have forgotten things, dropped the ball, and gotten confused. I missed an appointment.  I lose things. I'm highly organized most of the time, and for the past couple of weeks I've been....barely organized!  It's strange, and a little unsettling.  I'm worn out for no apparent reason.

A friend was talking to me about this by the clothesline a couple weeks ago and she reminded me that last year was a very intense year for our family.  Two cancer surgeries, multiple biopsies, multiple PET scans, living out of the state for a couple of months, radiation and its severe side effects, feeding tubes, dealing with insurance, chemotherapy, etc.  It could have been so much worse, and as a Pollyanna-type I always look on the bright side.  We had an amazing support system, our insurance paid for early everything my husband needed without issue (except that sometimes I had to do a few things on my end to get that done)(and this was probably about $1,000,000 worth of treatments), and his employer was wonderful.  So, I felt that although we were going through a hard time, we had so many blessings all around us. I still feel that way. 

My friend pointed out that last year my job was holding space for everyone.  Holding space for my husband's illness and then healing. Being everyone's emotional support.  Running our lives as smoothly as I could. And I did this well--because I cut way, way back on my expectations of myself and others.  And maybe, after all this caring for others, even in a quiet, simplified way--maybe I'm just worn out. 

And in the midst of all this mental scatterbrained behavior, physical jumble of symptoms, and general homeschool burnout, our academic year was starting with many obligations: piano and violin lessons, Spanish class, co-op, ballet lesson, robotics club.  I felt--feel--like I'm drowning and want to just stay home and mulch my flower beds and organize the closet, but these outside activities are things that we genuinely value!

I talked to/emailed a couple of wiser homeschooling mothers who have done this for longer than I have (like Sarah! my kindred spirit in the Pacific Northwest) to get some advice.  Sarah helped a lot, sharing her perspective on what really matters in the years before high school, and how to deal with things when Life Overwhelms (she has been there!).  Everyone says, in essence, do less.  Give yourself grace.  It's alright to feel burned out.  Scale back.  Which is funny because of course this is the advice that I give to others when they're dealing with crises....it's just that I'm not in a crisis. I'm just....tired. 

Last night as I blinked into the darkness at 3am, tears of frustration in my eyes, I felt like I had reached "the end of myself."  Whatever is wrong with me is obviously something that a perfectly-organized home and precise schedule can't solve; in other words, I can't pull myself up by the bootstraps. I can't manage my life to get rid of this problem.  Last year was a year of true surrender for me, and last night I realized--once again--I need to keep that posture of surrender.  So often I throw my energy into tackling my life, but some things can't be solved by working harder.  I think this problem is only solved by elbowing my way through the thick crowd of noisy distractions and touching the hem of the garment of Jesus.

Seriously.  

Last year when we were home from radiation and chemo and my husband was recovering, we had very slow days. I started my chores each morning by listening to hymns, specifically Page CXVI.  Nearly every morning I listening to "Nothing but the Blood" and repeated this refrain, over and over again.....

this is all my hope and peace

this is all my righteousness 

When we were in that sad, quiet time of slow healing and horrible sickness and feeding tubes and painful mouth sores and waiting for December and the PET scan results, singing this is all my hope and peace while I rinsed dishes was my honest worship, and was the best, most therapeutic start to the day.  It was my reminder of where I put my trust and hope. 

Where does that leave me now?  I'm completely re-thinking my priorities for this fall.  It's funny that I started to write a couple posts on Charlotte Mason minimalism, because it looks like I'm not out of that season at all just yet!  I will continue to write more on that as the year progresses.  

My priorities for this fall are: 

*reading/quiet time every day. Devotional. Journal. Bible.  Thinking. Praying.

*Exercise a few days a week. In my ideal world I work out daily for an hour or more.  And I've done that before! But it's probably not realistic this fall.   I'll give myself grace and aim for 4 days or so per week. 

*taking care of the house in a "good enough" way, not a "perfection" way

*minimalist homeschooling (more on this in another post)

*sleep

...and everything else will just have to get filled in around these priorities.  Or not done at all. :) 

My husband said recently that he really wants to ENJOY this fall. He loves autumn and was so sick last year that he couldn't enjoy it at all.  So pumpkin-carving, leaf-jumping, cider-sipping, gingerbread-eating, and hikes take priority over schoolwork (and, if I'm honest, housework).  After all, he's healthy and he's alive!  We must take time to celebrate this and relish the reality of his healing.  

Last year one practice I had was to try to slow down intentionally all the time. Instead of rushing through my chores, I tried to slowly do them.  Slow down and enjoy fluffing the duvet.  Slow down and enjoy folding laundry.  Slow down while washing dishes.  I suppose I get less done this way, but I definitely feel better when purposefully moving slowly.  As life has normalized for us, my pace has increased.  So I'm dialing it back. Way back!

I'm going to try to be kind and gentle to myself, to sit on the deck or porch each day for a few minutes, get fresh air, knit a dishcloth. Simple things. And I'm going to do them in a spirit of gratitude and thanksgiving, remembering that my hope and peace don't come from my planner (as great as my planner is) or my management skills, they come from leaning on my Savior and turning to Him when I'm feeling discouraged, exhausted, and overwhelmed.  

And that is how I hope to hold onto the hem of His garment.