Shoulding....

I feel very inadequate, pretty much most of the time.  I blame part of it on my upbringing, part of it on my relationships, part of it on my personal choices, but most of it on my own damn self.  Everything in our world tells us we're not good enough.  We're not skinny enough, strong enough, rich enough... Our car, home, clothes, food aren't good enough.  Whatever I did or didn't do, somebody out there did or didn't do it first, last or they did it for better reasons than those that I have.  Ugh!  Its so, so ingrained in our society, and our psyche...  Ok, my psyche.  Probably mostly my psyche. 

I have an image in my head of what I think I look like.  And what it is my days look like.  And what I believe I will accomplish before I lay my head on my pillow and fall into a restless sleep full of the I wish I'd dones and I should've dones for the day....  Then I pass by a mirror, or a window or any number of things that show me exactly what I look like at any given time.  And my image inside by head says, "Whoa, wait a minute!  You got 8 hours of sleep and you drank several cups of coffee, why do you look so tired? And you're how old again?? When did we stop being in our twenties??  And when exactly did I start to look just like my mother??!" 

Maybe this is just me...  Maybe my feelings of inadequacy really do come from some deep seeded belief that I will just never be good enough.  A good enough daughter, a good enough wife, mother, friend, employee, teacher, whatever...  Or maybe its a reflection of the online, socially connected life I lead.  Yes I have a facebook account.  Yes I'm on Pinterest.  And yes, I secretly stalk your accounts and wonder if your life really is that amazing.  Because mine is not.

Don't get me wrong, I love this life we're living.  Two amazing healthy kids, an incredibly supportive wife, a (mostly) happy and warm home...  But I have bad days.  Lots of them.  Lots of days where I wonder if we made the right choice to homeschool our kids and to have me stay home.  Lots of days where I'd rather ship both kids off for the day to be somebody elses problem. 

And what would I do with all that free time? More than likely,  I'd still follow the crafty homeschool moms on Pinterest who seem to have nearly angelic kids (by the dozens), professionally decorated homes, academically and artistically styled homeschool rooms, perfectly balanced, paleo/raw food/organic/free trade/co-op bought meal plans all prepared lovingly throughout the day with healthy snacks at the ready just in case her kids get a hunger pang before the perfectly timed, 6pm dinner is presented as her husband walks through the ornately and seasonally decorated front door...  AHHHHHHHHHH!

I don't know about you, but I've never met anyone in real life that can live that way.  I've got plenty of homeschooling mama friends and not one of them seems to be this person...  We all have our school work splayed across the kitchen table.  We all have laundry to be folded and bathrooms to be cleaned.  There are toys all over the living room floor and another kid or dog or something that is demanding our attention while the phone rings, or the dryer buzzes or (god forbid) we need to pee!!  We're all frustrated by the time our spouses get home, and yes, they get the short end of the stick when we throw up our hands and say "they're your kids, deal with it!"  And dear lord help the person who comes in and wonders out loud what we've done during the day... 

I had big plans when I started homeschooling.  Hell, I had big plans when I became a mother.  And then real life hit.  And my kids started growing up.  And I realized that somewhere in the midst of organizing these plans and schedules and chore charts and schoolwork, I was missing the whole point of this life thing...  I was missing the smiles and the laughs and the simple joys that come with staying home with my kids.  I was so worried about all the things that I "should" be doing as a stay at home, homeschooling, hippie/conservative/advocate mama that I wasn't doing anything.  My kids are happy.  They're smart.  They're social.  They're healthy.  They have friends and playdates.  Hell, I have friends and playdates.  And I have bad days.  And my kids have bad days.  And we have good days.  Some really, really good days.  And those are the days that I try to remember. 

So my goal for this season, and my hope with this post, is that we can all stop "shoulding" on ourselves.  Our life is our life and we have been chosen to live it as best we can.  We were given our children to love unconditionally for who they are and what they can teach us.  And yes, they can absolutely teach us. We can't set our standards to those of someone elses.  And we can't compare our real life, everyday moments to everyone elses highlights.  This is  my life.  We only get one go around...  I'm done trying to be the best mom, daughter, wife, homeschooler in the history of social media.  I'm finally ready to just be the best Katie I can be. 

Why we do this....

So we've become that family. A 2 mom, (mostly) organic food, green cleaning, essential oils, homeschooling, no cable, take your book and go to bed at 8 sorta family.  It wasn't planned.  Hell, it wasn't even on purpose!!  I never intended to homeschool.  Anyone who knows me, knows what a relief it was when my son started full time school last year.  He was gone for over 6 hours a day!!!!!!  Oh my god, the freedom was amazing.  I don't know what changed.  Maybe it was the way that little by little, I saw the excitement for school in our 7 year old diminish.  The way he was being forced to fit into a little box, in a little room, full of 29 other kids, all in a building packed with hundreds of other kids trying to fit into the same little boxes in their own little rooms.  There are so many kids who are on special learning plans, or special medications to allow them to sit in a chair at a desk for 6 hours a day to learn things above their abilities,  or relearn things that they already know all because one kid in the class can't keep up.  And that makes me sound awful, I'm sure.  But why, if across the board, so many kids have so many problems, does it make sense to keep shoving circles into squares?  When can we realize that the school needs more circles? Then it occurred to us that perhaps we could provide a circle.  A space where my kids can learn the way they want to, be loved more than they can ever know and how to adjust to life on this planet.  Education needs to be more than math books and handwriting lessons.  I am in charge of producing two fully functioning, fully capable, productive human beings who are going to be expected to contribute positively to this world.  And let me say, that is a far more complicated task than any math or reading or writing curriculum combined.  So our family is moving back to basics.  We're moving back to love and respect and compassion.  We're moving back to reading and playing as a family and remembering that really, when everything hits the fan, all you can count on are your friends and family.  Spelling, math, writing and science will all be around, workbooks and textbooks still waiting.  And I absolutely want my kids to learn and be smart and succeed in everything they try to do.  But they won't.  So I also want them to have the ability to accept those losses, and move forward with grace and dignity and still be willing to try again.  I don't believe that every kid should get a ribbon for participating.  I don't believe that every kid deserves special treatment.  I do believe that every single child is absolutely wonderful and amazing and spectacular in their own right.  And every one of them will excel in something.  But when everyone is special, doesn't that make nobody special? And if we award mediocrity with a ribbon, why should anybody strive to be the best?  So you might not agree with what we're doing right now, but for our small little family and our children and the impact we want to leave on this earth, its working.  There are still fights, and yelling and 20 minutes of 'get your shoes on, we're leaving' but at the end of the day, we're together.  And we've connected more than a good chunk of families do in a month.  I can tell you exactly what my kid learned today.  Can you?

Believe....

In this season of thankfulness and magic, its easy to get swept up into consumerism, busyness and craziness.  Actually, if I were to be perfectly honest, its easy to get swept up into all that stuff at any time throughout the year.  And my main goal, the one constant I always come back to is how to step outside of that.  How to make a real, genuine attempt at living an intentional and grateful life.

We went on a Polar Express train ride tonight to kick off our holiday.  The kids have decided that really, the polar express train is the only real way to get to the North Pole, there is no other way to find it.  When we got to the train depot, and the kids were trying to figure out how this was going to happen, our four year old was elated.  She couldn't wait to get onto the train, find our seat and head out to unknown lands.  But honestly, that's pretty much who she is.  Our nearly seven year old, however, was a bit more leery.   He's trying hard to still believe in Santa and puts on a pretty great show for his little sister, but he's a thinker, and I can see in the back of his mind the gears turning, wondering how this all fits into his logical and concrete world. 

So when we lined up by the train, waiting to be seated, he looked around.  "Its just a regular, boring train, mom.  Its not the Polar Express."  My daughter glowed when the lights came on, and told the engineer that his train to the North Pole was very, very pretty.  My son just sat and stewed.   "Are you mad at me that I don't believe, mama?"

So we climb aboard, take our seats and wait.  Christmas music plays, lights and decorations are all around, kids are thrilled with the excitement of this most wonderful time.  And there he sits, pouting, sullen and sad looking out the window.  "Its not the North Pole, its farmland."  The conductor came around collecting tickets.  He put an M on my daughters for her first name and when my son reluctantly gave him his, he punched out a B on the bottom.  He wanted to hold onto the ticket for the rest of the ride...  As we rolled along, houses got further apart, the sky got darker and lights along the track began to twinkle in the windows as the rain drizzled down.  Then we passed a farm with bales of hay wrapped in plastic.  "Mom look!!  Giant marshmallows!"  And we got a smile...  Then they started reading the story.  Hot chocolate, carols, lights from the villages... And outside his window, he saw the lights. Inside he sipped hot chocolate and sang the songs.  And with a smile, he told us how the story was going to go. 

And suddenly, just like that, in front of our eyes,  he believed.  When we stopped to move the engine because of a 'herd of caribou' he looked out the window with his sister and saw glimpses of the reindeer running along side the train.  When we saw the lights of the North Pole, he was enthralled.  The houses, the lights, and Santa - standing in the middle of it all, waving.  My kids eyes sparkled brighter than the Christmas lights and he couldn't wait for a chance to see Santa up close, say Merry Christmas and see what was in that wonderful red bag. 

Santa handed out little silver bells.  If you're familiar with the story, you know that you only hear the sound of the bell if you believe.  When Santa handed a bell to my daughter, she shook it and it instantly jingled.  When my son got one, he waited, just a split of a split of a second...  And then he shook it.  And it jingled.  And he believed.

In the span of an hour and a half, I saw the magic of this season.  I saw something that was worth so much more than what any store could offer.  I saw a little boy, who is on the verge of becoming so much, sit back, relish being seven and three quarters, and enjoy the magic that Christmas brings.  I didn't hear once about the toys that he wanted, or that his friends are getting.  There was no bickering between our kids. 

There was nothing but love, family and the sweet spirit of Christmas. 

That is what I want to remember.  That is what I want to teach my kids.  That is what I want my kids take with them into their own families.  The ability to believe.  And the knowledge that sometimes, a little magic mixed with a little love, is all it takes to get there.