A Week, Briefly (4/30/18)

I open the doors and windows first thing in the morning.  It is cool and fresh outside, and the birds sing so joyously that my heart is lighter simply for listening.

We haven't made it to Breakfast at the Park yet.

But it is time.

I've needed those joyously singing birds each morning because this has been a week of emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical pain.

Pixie is literally gray with it.

Rose Red is the reason for it.

Nature Angel is at the mercy of changing, raging hormones, and she wept with a ferocity that frightened us all.  (She absolutely cannot go through this every month from now on!  It is one thing to deal with monthly hormones; it is another to suffer as she has been suffering.)

Little Princess is an empath, and she is taut with the pain of absorption . . . and of feeling her best sister/friend in the whole wide world grow up and away from her.  She is trying to adapt to being more friendly with Ladybug, but they are worlds apart in experience and behaviors.  I hope that if Little Princess and Ladybug can become closer, then Ladybug will be more likely to heal from her own traumas.  

I have not slept much this week with my mind racing; I feel guilty over not being able to protect my family from pain.

It doesn't matter that my guilt is foolish.  It is real, and I have spent the week reciting the Serenity Prayer again and again and again in order to calm my mind and acknowledge that some things are simply beyond my control.

I want to fix it.

I cannot.

And I am shaking from that pain . . . even as I pray and recite my way through it . . . seeking the peace of Christ.

Ladybug continues to struggle with her own struggles . . . "Why am I adopted?  Can I go visit my birthmom's house?"

("No, I'm sorry.  We don't know where she is.  We do know where your birthdad is."  "Can I go to his house?"  "Yes, but not right now.  We have to make a plan.")

Brother is so filled with rage it is frightening, and then he is so sweet and faith-filled that it takes my breath away, and then he rages again. He screamed and thrashed and flailed and hit when I tried to wash his face in the bath on Thursday night.  I grabbed him tightly and yelled (to be heard over his screaming), "I'm not hurting you!  You are safe!  I'm not hurting you!  I don't hurt you!  I'm holding you and cleaning you, and you are safe!  Are you safe?  Are you safe?  Are you safe?"

Eventually he stopped, and his eyes came back into focus, and he nodded his head.

We may have to seek medical intervention for Beowulf's behaviors.  I don't know.  This is not a good week for decision-making ("Never make a permanent decision based on a temporary emotion,"  is good advice we received from a local church leader this past week).

Baymax is aflame with eczema and rashes, so he doesn't feel good, so he's whining and weepy.

Is it any wonder we're so done with bookish school!?!?!

That said, we have persevered.

The teens and I finished The Mystery of History III.  We started The Hound of the Baskervilles, and we're working really, really hard on finishing up first year high school Spanish.  In addition, they turned in their first draft essays on The Maltese Falcon, and Super Star finished her second vocabulary book and her creative writing curriculum.

The littles and I are done with Academy.  This week we finished In Grandma's Attic and Stories from the Life of Joseph Smith.  We did not finish our grammar book, but I knew that when we started it in February, and that will be put away for the next school year.

Belle hoed baby plants for over 3 hours at the farm on Tuesday (she still grins from ear to ear), and the Elementary 8 and I attended co-op.  Only one week left!  We manged to cross paths with some wonderful friends (our co-op is large enough that we actually don't cross paths very often), and we spent an extra hour and a half playing and talking together at the church playground.

It was a blessing.

Super Star had a last-minute offer to accompany some church friends to Texas to assist at a business convention down there.  She jumped at the chance, and she is on the road until Tuesday.  When she gets home, there's an audition for a local church-produced musical waiting for her.

Sir Walter Scott's first CNP class is over today.  He takes his final this afternoon.  We are glad to see the back of it, and we are glad for a two week break before the next one begins.  The Lord is holding him up as he does this work, but it is still hard.  His essay and test scores so far are very high, and we anticipate a good grade.

This is Lola.  At midnight.  She would not stay in her bed, and after putting her back in her bed too many times to keep count, I put her on the stairs.  She was asleep like this with a matter of minutes.  Why here instead of her bed?

Pixie danced a lot and found out that she has good friends in an emergency.  At the very moment (one of many--I cannot overstate how wretched this week has been) she cried in my arms, feeling so lost and alone, one sweet friend called, and they chatted for an hour.  By the end, Pixie was laughing and able to do her schoolwork again.  It was a decided answer to this mother's prayers for her girl.  Other friends have checked in saying, "Are you okay?  Do you need to talk?"  And still others have rallied around her saying, "That's not fair!  I'm with you!  How can I help?"

It hasn't quite erased the gray, but I think there's some pink returning.

Her cousin has invited her to join a Star Wars scavenger hunt with a bunch of sweet teens from his area tonight.  She'll be on the road for a long time, but it will be worth it if she comes home with a smile on her face.

Brother lost his second front tooth, so even though one of the adult ones is growing in, he's still got that mostly toothless sweet smile.  I like his little lisp.

The chickens moved into their new home.  They're still only 4 weeks old, and we don't have the run area screened in, so they have to stay inside, but after a little bit of initial shock, they are happily figuring out how cool their roosts are and enjoying the huge increase of living space.

This is Fluffer-Nutter.  She's an Araucana.

The move wasn't all peaches and cream.

We have a birthday party, camp skills check-offs, babysitting, errands, getting teens to the local amusement park, and grocery shopping to take care of before the arrival of the Sabbath.  It's a full weekend ahead.  I feel too old and tired to carry on, but this morning I read about the widow of Zarephath, and I'm going to trust that the meal and oil I need to survive won't run out in my body, heart, and mind.


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