Here we are!
Summer. Officially! (According to the Western Calendar, that is).
Which means every single day will be glorious. Right?
Are you listening, Sky? Sun? Clouds? Ocean? Wind?
It's day one.
It's my mother's birthday today. I love you so much, Mom. I hope your day is so beautiful you can hardly stand it.
It's day one.
I saw my counsellor/therapist person yesterday. She's my long-time regular counsellor, the one who was living overseas when I needed to see her last year. The one I actually hadn't seen in 3 years. Woah. That's a long time between talks.
She was so lovely. She said, Be wary of labels. (That is, blindly accepting them. Letting them define you). She said, Go information gathering. Look at your treatment options. There isn't one way to do this. And, after she and I talked about all the Stuff…and I said, "This is no way to live. When my life is this beautiful and I'm still this sad, something has to shift"…she showed me her pad of paper, where she had written what I'd said in huge capitals: THIS IS NO WAY TO LIVE.
So. We are agreed. We have a plan.
Something is shifting.
Are you listening, Self? Fear? Brain? Doubt? Universe?
It's day one.
The kids and I have also come up with a Plan. The kids and I have realised that "Mum is like a puppy. She needs regular food and walks." If I don't get walked, I fret and chew the furniture! It's pitiful, really.
So every day after breakfast, we plan to do some exercise. So far, we've walked to the beach and along to the next suburb, then taken a train home (so fun). We've walked around our streets exploring. And today, the plan is to Swim.
Yesterday was supposed to have a swim in it, but instead there were two visits to the vet. One for a very sick chook (who didn't make it) and one for an arthritic dog (who did make it and should make it for years more, but can no longer jump into or out of cars. I need to lift him. He is heavy). Some days don't go to plan. Doesn't mean you give up. Right?
|R.I.P Chook. We'll miss you.|
It's day one.
I haven't written about homeschooling in ages. Our year is winding down, but the kids haven't lost steam. My girl is flying, and I mean flying, through maths right now. She's got her times tables down. She's learning long division. She's adding and subtracting like a fiend. She knows how to figure out change. She knows her shapes and angles and weights and time and probability. She finished Year 3 maths a week and a half ago, and is now rocketing through Year 4. Who would have thunk it? Seriously. Where's the sparkling apple juice? We need to CELEBRATE!
This last week she's also written a cat magazine, plus created a brochure for a kitten surf school.
And along with the hundred other stories she's working on, she is writing a series of tales about her beloved cat Mittens. Mittens is adorable, annoying and very simple minded. We call her Shmoo. Here's one of the "tails" my girl has written:
“Dis is a gigantic drinking bowl,” thought Mittens, peering into the toilet. “It’s vewy smewy.” She leaned over to look and...fell in!“MARRROWWGGLLE!!!” she gurgled, thrashing around. “It GURGLEMMOWW!!! Doesn’t MMOWW!!! Taste MMERRR!!! Dat GUURRGLLE!!! Nice!” She scrabbled out of the toilet and ran off to the other end of the house, dripping wet.
“I don’t tink dat was a dwinking bowl after all,” she said, licking herself. “But if it was, It would need fwesh water.” She walked to the mother of the house and mowed: “If dat’s a dwinking bowl, pwease change da water. It wasn’t vewy pweasnt to dwink.”
The mother of the house wondered why the kitten was so wet.
My boy is all about his schedule right now. He practices, he does his maths, and now he has asked to "do history." So I found some cool e-workbooks on Rome that he's really enjoying. He loves knowing what's ahead, this one.
Plus he's doing chemistry experiments, and researching periods in art. He's watercolouring, sketching, painting, writing, reading reading reading. He's doing music, circus, scouts, and art class, and all the time he's watching over his family like a shepherd.
The kids are like a carnival.
You come into their lives and watch them Being. Doing. Learning. Loving. You see all the rides, and the sparkling lights. You see how nothing is dimmed, or if there are dark spaces, they don't stay dark for long. There is talking, laughing; there are games and prizes. Oh, the prizes! You can't believe just how wonderful they are. You carry them in your arms; you are full of spun candy and soft toys and laughter 'til your sides shake. You can't believe how lucky you are to be here. To see this. To be a part of it.
Getting to be their mum, and parenting with my beautiful husband, are without a doubt the best things that have ever happened to me.
It is day one.