Autumn Means Sage and Pink

For me, autumn is about the colors sage and pink.  (But I do still put out orange pumpkins--on our deck!)

I took this photo on an 8-mile hike with my husband on our 20th anniversary weekend "staycation."  Moss and leaves, so beautiful to my eye!

On the porch, this translates to lots of cream, with bits of sage and pink.

I took this grapevine wreath we had in our garage and added some pink flowers....I am not good at wreath-making, but I can do something simple like this! And I like the simple look better anyhow. 

The pillows I used here this summer were patterned with blue and green. I covered them with neutral covers and I love, love, love how it calms my eye when I look outside. 

Peachy and white mums, galvanized buckets (we've had them forever), sage pumpkins, the asparagus fern, and the old guard dog.  I think I'd like to put new shutters or something around my front windows, but I'm not sure what yet.

I am trying to read out here as much as possible before the weather gets cold....I just love the colors of the porch in fall. Simple and pretty.  The porch is old and nothing to write home about, but it's not hard to make it into a cozy spot for tea drinking and chatting with a child.  The other day I couldn't find Annie, and she was out here with a book!  

We're all loving it....even old Bosco!

Occupation: Homemaker

Last week I was filling out a form at the orthodontist's office and was writing down all the pertinent information that they need in order to treat my children, when my pen hovered over "occupation."

Occupation.

My mind raced to all the interesting professions my friends are peaking in right now.  We're at an age where most of them have worked in their chosen field for 15 years or so and they're hitting new heights in their careers.  My good friends are now tenured university professors, published authors, partners in law firms, licensed psychologists.

My pen paused, hesitated, as my mind raced through the list of occupations my friends have, occupations for which they are getting paid (very well, in nearly all cases).  Occupations that present a specific identity to the outside world.  

Then, as my pen continued to hover, I thought about my own occupations.  I do not earn an income, although my earning potential as an attorney is in the six-figure range. I do not attend lavish social functions, which was part of the job when I practiced law in the private sector.  I am not making a name for myself in the legal world.  I haven't practiced law in any official, paid capacity in over 10 years, and I do not wish to start again anytime soon. I also write, but I wouldn't really classify that as an occupation for me.

What is my occupation? Options swirled in my head: stay-at-home mother?  Homeschooling parent?  Teacher?  Housekeeper?  Laudress???

That blank space stared back at me as I thought of all the things I do every day. Little images of our daily life, as simple as it is, flitted in and out of my mind.  Hundreds of walks down our gravel country lane. Washing off the eggs from our chickens.  Fluffing up pillows. Rearranging a bookshelf.  Drinking a cup of tea and listening to the birds.  Washing countless dishes. Changing lightbulbs. Planting flowers.  Braiding my daughter's hair.  Cooking dinner. Mending clothes. Painting a piece of furniture. Washing the sliding doors.  My occupations.

I've been at these occupations for over 14 years now, after I left the full-time practice of law with no plan except to stay at home and be mistress of my own domain.  I had to learn everything from scratch. I didn't know how to do so many things.  I learned by doing, by making mistakes, by reading books, by praying, by reading blogs, by watching YouTube videos, by thinking, and by trying to learn what, exactly, I was after in the making of a home.



(The front porch in autumn.)

After nearly 15 years of it, am I at the peak of my "career"? Am I hitting new heights?  It's an amusing question to ponder.  By God's grace and practicing a lot of self-discipline, I've improved.....but I don't have a paycheck to show for it, or any public accolades. I don't even make a "career" out of keeping house, in any kind of Martha Stewart-esque way: I don't decorate my house impressively, don't bake intimidating cakes, don't do any sumptuous entertaining. I do the best I can, and am not looking for public approval of it.

As I sat there at the orthodontist's office, I thought of all of this, and wrote "homemaker" in the blank.  I thought of what a simple word it is, and how it barely scratches the surface of who I am or what I do, and isn't going to earn me any respect in the eyes of most of the world, but it's what I decided I wanted to do when I was in my mid-twenties. I wanted to make a home.  I wanted to learn what that meant. 

(Our simple, small living room, with the geriatric dog, the used furniture, and the coziness of home.)

I turned in the form with "homemaker" written on it, and I wondered at what in the world would have motivated someone as motivated as I always was for the first quarter-century of my life to leave the things the world (and some of my family) told me were alluring and valuable in order to do something so mundane that the people who *are* paid to do it are among the lowest-paid in our society.

I think it was love (of my husband, of the children we did not yet have, and also of myself, simply because the job made me sick and unhealthy) and a genuine desire to create a stable, healthy home life.  It had become clear to me that my long-term career trajectory was at sharp odds with my vision of home life.  Working 60 hours a week didn't feel like enough. I brought work home constantly.  I took files on our 5th anniversary getaway.  I knew it wasn't sustainable. 

And I deeply desired something I did not know well, because my childhood sometimes felt chaotic and disorderly to my quiet, orderly nature: I desired a steady, routine, peaceful life.  I had absolutely no idea how to bring that to fruition, I didn't understand how to manage my home, I had no experience, no background of it at all, no mentor. But this force within me knew I had to make the change. 

(Does it go without saying that I'm not insisting that a career and a happy home life are mutually exclusive? Of course they are not.  But the reality of the constraints of time and energy cannot be denied, and anyone who is realistic understands that life involves trade-offs.)

So at the orthodontist's office that day, as we sat and waited to be called back, I thought about all of these things. I sat there and looked at the children who were only figments of my imagination 15 years ago. I thought about our house, which is homey and happy.  I thought about the childhood my children are having--a childhood that sometimes astonishes me in its sweetness, innocence, and simplicity. And I was grateful to be able to write "homemaker" in that little blank space. It means so much more than I thought it did when I was a college student contemplating her future! 

Healing Homeschool Burnout

Over the past couple of months I haven't written much here, but when I have written, I've mentioned how strangely difficult things have been for me.  One of the issues I faced was that for the first time in my life, I felt burned-out from homeschooling. It was only the beginning of the schoolyear and I did not want to homeschool!! The very idea of it exhausted me and the thought of all of the activities I had to manage panicked me. 

I had to dive deeply into the root of it and think about what is going on, and what the solution is.  

As October comes to a close, I'm grateful to say that I think the storm has passed.  

This year I didn't take much of a summer break (my first mistake).  We also added more activities than ever, but they are things we genuinely value that I cannot teach--piano, violin, ballet, robotics, Spanish, and French, plus our weekly co-op.  (If you're wondering about the Spanish and French, it's because Finn has studied French for a few years and wants to add Spanish--so we did.  This is completely self-motivated.)

Once August arrived and I was surveying what our weekly schedule would look like, I got totally overwhelmed.  And we were also chasing down some physical symptoms so I was having medical tests done, which was distracting.  I simply wanted to organize closets and mulch flower beds, not teach math.  I remember sitting down with my husband a few weeks ago and saying I just don't know what's wrong with me--I cannot get my head in the game this year!!

He laughed. He loves sports analogies. 

I got some advice, prayed, got more advice, prayed more, journaled, and tried to slowly get to the root of my issues.  I don't want to homeschool solely out of a sense of duty, lacking joy in the journey.  I'm an enthusiastic, joyful person....but I wasn't feeling that at all.  So I took it seriously that I needed to heal this burnout.

One morning I was reminded of this verse from Hebrews:

"...let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us..." -Hebrews 12:1

And I thought of how burdened I had allowed myself to be with expectations and distractions. I felt it was the nudge of the Holy Spirit to get me to consider what weights and sins were getting in the way of my patience and my "race."  Once I began to analyze this, everything started to fall into place. 

Here are the things that helped me:

1. I wrote already about simplifying, praying, and leaning on God. When I try to do everything myself, without spending time in thoughtful reading and thinking/prayer each day, my life unravels. So that's the first thing. 2 Corinthians 12:9. 

2. I went back to outsourcing a few things.  I use grocery pick-up at Kroger and Sam's Club, and organize those pick-ups after a day of errands. I am (admittedly) using some convenience foods for lunch sometimes--I have used an organic boxed macaroni and cheese, and a frozen organic pizza.  We don't do this daily, but sometimes it is helpful to have a convenience food on hand! And I've already mentioned that I have some help with housework.  What a blessing. I know I will not have housework help forever, and I still have plenty of housework to do on my own, but for now, I'm grateful for it.  

3. I went back to my practice of keeping a reasonable stock of freezer meals ready to to be baked or tossed in the crockpot.  This is so, so helpful for me on busy days.  We are frugal and health-conscious, and doing this saves money and ensures that we have quick, healthy foods to eat.

4. I decided to pick my top 3 priorities every day and focus on doing those things.  And I tried to let everything else go.  If other things fit into my day, then great! But if not, that's okay: I try to get those 3 things done, and that's it.  This will look different for everyone, but for me my daily top 3 priorities are: homeschooling/children's educational activities, Bible reading/journaling/praying/writing (these I lump together because they take different forms on different days, but it's the same idea: quiet time!), and exercise.  Most days I try to add in violin practice also. 

5.  I gave myself permission to relax. A hot bath at the end of the day.  A few minutes on the front porch with a book.  Puttering in my sewing room.  Cuddling with a child. It's all so simple, but when I get overwhelmed, I want to do more and not less!  But I need to relax. 

6. I began limiting social media consumption that showed pictures of people's gorgeously-decorated homes.  Sometimes this is fun.  Sometimes it is demoralizing. :)  

7.  I decided that even if I didn't have time to deeply organize various area of my house--I love to organize--I would create tidy piles and make peace with them, knowing I will get to them eventually. 

8. This goes along with #4, but I began to be sure to be alone inside my head every day. An extrovert might need to talk on the phone with someone else, but for me, I need to read, think, and process.  Having the mental space to do this for a while each day is essential to me. 

9. I began reading books that aren't telling me how to be better at anything. I am a lover of non-fiction, and I always want to improve.  So a lot of my reading is focused on improvement: homemaking, homeschooling, health, faith, finances, etc.  But I also need to read books for the sheer pleasure of reading!  Fiction and poetry are the answers for me. I love to relax with a chapter of fiction and a few poems at the end of the day. It's the pause that refreshes!

10.  I created a checklist for each of my children's schoolwork and we are following it each day.  As it turns out, Finn and I both have personalities which do not like open-ended situations.  He wants a list.  He wants to know what to do.  He likes the feeling of getting things done. And so do I! At 12, Finn would rather spend hours doing schoolwork than having a "free day."  (Is this strange? I am not sure! He is my oldest, so I never know....) We implement it with flexibility, and I approach it with my usual minimalist mindset, but this has helped us both tremendously.  Having a written guide for the week's work is comforting for me right now! It makes me feel MUCH less overwhelmed than having a more open-ended approach to schooling. 

*      *      * 

We aren't going to quit our activities; we like and value them each too much. I have had seasons in life when we have needed to put activities on pause, but I had the strong sense that this was not one of those seasons.  For me, healing burnout has required focusing on my top priorities, keeping meals and routines simple, relaxing a little bit each day, and creating  more structure (although not more subjects!) in our homeschool day.

After a couple of difficult months, I finally feel like I've healed.  My enthusiasm and delight are back, and I don't feel overwhelmed and exhausted.  I think I'm back to running the race with patience--not with speed, or my own strength, or impatience--but with grace and a steady pace.  

Charlotte Mason Minimalism: Reconciling the 13th Principle with Real Life (Part 2, the Practical)

Earlier this year I decided to write a little bit about homeschooling within the parameters of the Charlotte Mason educational philosophy, but doing it in a minimalistic, simple way. I think this is a topic that is important to get "out there" because I know so many mothers who feel like utter failures because they aren't doing things the way Mason did in her schools.  Perhaps they aren't doing geography walks, or dry brush painting, or Plutarch, or whatever, and as such they feel a constant sense of overwhelm and under-achievement, while wondering if they're really homeschooling their children well, because their days simply do not look like the well-planned-out, beautifully-scheduled days we sometimes associate with Charlotte Mason. 

And I know all of these struggles quite well because I love and admire Charlotte Mason, but I have never, not once, successfully "done it all."  My homeschool does not look like a PNEU school. It looks like a home, with all of the seasons and issues and interruptions and distractions that accompany real home life. 

So how can we reconcile the 13th principle--the beautiful concept of the educational "feast"--with the reality of life? 

I have pondered this so much over the past 2 years; first, during and after cancer treatments, and second, this summer and early fall, as I experienced--for the first time ever--what I think has been actual burnout.  I am getting better now, and I'll write more about that sometime. (It had a lot less to do with school than it did with life!) But it certainly has caused me to re-evaluate (for what seems like the hundredth time) what we are doing, and how we do it. 

I think sometimes we, as homeschooling mothers, are quite narrow in our definition of what counts as school.  Loosening this definition is by far the most important practical thing to do in order to reconcile the "feast" idea with the reality of everyday life.

Much of what our children naturally do (when they aren't distracted by screens--so screen time limits are, in my opinion, essential!) falls within the "feast."  Sewing.  Working with clay.  Origami. Sitting down and watching ants busy themselves on a sidewalk.  Cracking open a book and getting immersed in a story.  Singing songs.

I still need--as much for my own sake as anything else--to be sure certain things are covered in a structured way, but I am also willing to let go of a planned, structured lesson if I see a child who is engaged in something worthy that I haven't planned at all.  When my children were littler, Legos and imaginative play definitely counted.

As children get older, of course the expectations for schoolwork increase.  I suspect all children are different, but so far my experience with a child on the cusp of the teenage years is that children will seek out and pursue educational opportunities that interest them, and the parent can shift even more into a facilitator role for certain subjects.

Not long ago my son and I were talking about how minimalistic his schooling seems to be. He's in middle school now, so we were trying to decide if we should we add more, and if so, what?  Then we counted what he does regularly, and it included over a dozen "subjects!" So we decided we're satisfied with the status quo at this time--although we are adding more formal science work.

In addition to widening the definition of schooling, as I mentioned above, here are my top practical tips for spreading the "feast" while still maintaining a feeling of minimalism:

1.  Keep a retroactive educational journal. (My favorite tip!) Lesson plans are fine (and I do use a checklist/plan for Finn, whose workload is heavier), but I often like to write down what we did in a day after the day is done, and then marvel at how well those things fit into "school" categories. Perhaps we didn't do dictation every day, but we did it twice during the week: well, that counts! Perhaps I hadn't planned on a nature walk, but we found a crazy-looking caterpillar outside and spent an hour studying it, learning about it, and drawing it.  That counts! Perhaps at lunch a child asked a question about what caused the Korean War, and we spent the next hour reading the encyclopedia and discussing what we've read, then applying it to other conflicts and current political situations.  That counts! (All 3 of those are real-life examples from my home!) I do not keep the journal every day, but I love reading it and thinking about how natural learning opportunities arise in our home.

2. It's better to do a little bit every day than to engage in any "boom or bust" activity. If doing school for 6 hours a day seems overwhelming--well, don't do it. (I can't do it!)  Through years of trial and error, I'm finding the things--math curricula, books--that we can do consistently.  I'd rather do an hour of school each day than hit the books super hard for a week, get exhausted, and then need a week to recover.  Whatever you do, make sure it's sustainable.

3.  Decide on the non-negotiables and focus on those, then let other things fill in the gaps.This will change from child to child and grade to grade. I pick 3-5 non-negotiable subjects that I want to be sure each child does nearly every day (and they are different for my two children), and keep those as a "spine" for schooling.  This may seem to be antithetical to the "feast" idea, but in my experience, having a  few non-negotiables that make you feel good, and then adding in other things, results in a wide array of subjects.

4. Keep planning simple.  I have written before about my index card system. It's so simple! I don't do this now, but it worked well for us for a season, and I've reverted back to it on occasion when I want a change.  I have little desire to create detailed lesson plans, so for Annie my approach is simply "do the next thing."  For our shared subjects (Shakespeare, history, picture study, etc) I just do the next part of the reading, or the next painting in the packet.....no planning required. At 12, Finn now wants clear directions and a daily checklist, so I've started to fill out a table for him at the start of the week--and he fills out a lot of it himself for the subjects he manages on his own--but I keep it quite basic. It's essentially a "do the next thing" approach as well! Everyone will tackle this in a different way, but for me, less is more when it comes to lesson plans. It's the sustainability issue, once again--whatever we do must be sustainable.

5. Make curricula work for you, not the other way around.  Never be a slave to the curriculum, no matter how rich, beautiful, and good it is.  There's no homeschool policeman who says a child has to complete an entire lesson in 1 day, or do two dozen subjects, or finish by noon, or....anything!  The curriculum works for the teacher.  Using a curriculum in small bites consistently is worlds better than trying to tackle it all, getting stressed and overwhelmed, and bagging it. 

6. Don't look around.  Comparison is the thief of joy; I'm sure we've all experienced this.  There's a reason for that cliche.  When we look at what other people are doing, it's so easy to get discouraged!  But really, God has given us each our particular children with their own particular needs, and we need to put on our blinders and stay focused on what's in front of us, not comparing our school schedules or (please!!) children to other people's.......there's so much rich learning in every single day!  But we need to be able to focus and see it for ourselves, without reference to who is doing what out in Instagramland.

*             *          *

I love to read about Charlotte Mason schools. I love looking at timetables and imagining how lessons went for children in those schools, and I love thinking about all the many subjects that are covered by a Mason education.  But in my own daily life, I have to implement this educational philosophy with flexibility and discernment. 

And if you're a bit of a minimalist, there may be a little more time in the day for drinking tea and reading!  That's a win in my book!

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.