A Fly On My Homeschool Wall

 Do I have pictures of the kids playing in the snow day after day after day? No. I stayed indoors cooking, baking, cleaning, reading, playing the piano, writing, and organizing . . . generally creating a safe, warm haven for the kids to return to after being out in the cold and wet. I wish I'd gone outside. But . . . I am glad for all of the things that I did because I am finding my way really happily. I found something so mind-boggling while I was reading one of the 10 books I've been reading this month that I stopped to think, but I didn't ever think to write it down or mark where I found it. All I have now, as I write, is a memory of what struck me. Part of my reaction to trauma has been to numb my brain. I've been so frustrated with myself about how I always seek some way to be mentally un-present--staring at my phone, eating too many snacks, feeling incapable of connecting . . . I've been angry with myself. But then I read a line somewhere that made me realize ...

 I'm sitting in my nightgown on the couch looking at two needy kids.   Beowulf, lying in the oversized armchair, doesn't feel well.  He's got no appetite; he's lethargic; he says his head hurts and that he's dizzy. The last two are actually less concerning than the first two for this endlessly hungry, endlessly energetic boy of mine. He's got no fever, but he says he's cold. And he just looks . . . ill. Mister Man lies stretched out on the couch with his foot propped up.   It might be broken. He certainly can't walk on it. It's just about 24 hours since he fell off the fallen tree in our backyard.  We thought it was just scrapes and bruises and treated his injuries accordingly.  Since then, he's been achy, throbby, sore, and swollen.  We've used ibuprofen, ice, and elevation, but he hasn't improved. We found an orthopedic urgent care that opens in an hour and a half or so.  Sir Walter Scott will take him there. I will stay home with Beow...

 After our usual morning routine and school with the high schoolers, I gathered up the kids for a walk and some forest bathing . However, my phone rang with Belle's weekly call, and I dropped all plans so that I could talk with her. The kids and I walked along the people trail until they found a deer trail leading to the river. And they were off! Belle and I finished our conversation just about the time the kids got hungry and thirsty enough to head back to the van where the playground and snacks were located. Of course, we stopped to observe a caterpillar crossing the path. Later in the day, I was trying for a bit of positive self-talk, "It's okay that we didn't do our planned activity.  The exercise, the time in nature, and the freedom to explore were all beneficial," when Lola and Beowulf exploded through the door to show me their roasted walnuts. These roasted walnuts were harvested, opened, and roasted by the kids themselves. It turns out that because Sir Wal...

 This week's major event was Belle starting online MTC (Missionary Training).  She's got classes from the time she wakes up in the morning until she goes to bed at night, and during every break, she runs upstairs to tell us how good the classes are and how awesome the people are. Her boundless enthusiasm has definitely affected the rest of us for the good. On Sundays, she has no classes.  She gets a break from sitting at a desk on Zoom.  Mission rules are strict about the use of screens, so she's spending her "free" time studying Spanish on the church language app. As for the rest of us, we're working hard at homeschooling around interruptions. Good interruptions--like playdates and field trips and home improvement projects--but they feel like interruptions nonetheless. Monday First thing in the morning Nugget asked us to wrap his truck up in a blanket like a baby.  He would croon at it, "Ohhhhh, Truck.  Ohhhhh, Baby." , Then he would unwrap it and a...