on the playroom floor

Busy. It takes over us all.  Its sneakiness fashions our days into a whole lotta with helpings of hurry up, wouldya?  I continually fight the battle of public school teacher vs. homeschooling mama/designer.  The two have starkly different daily compositions.  Public school teaching is purposeful with definitive time lines of moving on and what's next on our list to complete.  Scheduling is regimented right down to the elapsed time in the bathroom and how long you have to eat lunch.  To say you are tired when the last little one loads the bus, would be a far cry off from real.  You.are.toast. But, duty still calls.  Lesson plans, paper grading, hoop jumping, and faculty meetings are just a smattering of what is still left on your plated day.  

Homeschooling has home.  You are in and amongst your living space.  The boys have their most precious belongings right nearby to the touch.  I can remember Casey working on skip counting last winter with his "B" snuggled up in his lap.  Eli's most favorite time of his day is reading in the sunshine with his Jack cat.  This intimate component of home provides a comfort that hopefully fosters growth and initiative with regard to the value of learning. I want the boys to choose knowledge for its sake.  I want them to be self starters in seeking answers and solving problems.  I want to remove myself from the rat race of score and ranking that I am so used to as a public school teacher only to replace it with the freedom of childhood progress at a pace that promotes purpose and proficiency.   

I have nearness that needs my attention as well.  k.Mac is Christmas for many clients.  My days are split seeking out newness and knowledge for the boys in addition to stitching and creating for others.  The fall is chock full with designs and deadlines.  The internal battle of balance and obedience to both of my occupations is hard fought during this season.  Giving less than my best to both is not an option.  

Providing the boys with what my heart longs for and providing myself with what my heart longs to do crossover.  The income that k.Mac provides is a blessing to our family.  The intimate times with my boys are too.  I cannot tell you the joy I have collected in the keeping corner of my heart knowing that  their mama has been the one to teach both boys to talk, walk, potty train, tie shoes, write, read and calculate.  Mine and Kenny's decision for me to stay home with them has paid off in more dividends than I could have ever accumulated in a state paycheck.  The journey of my time with them is one we continuously evaluate on the scale of what is best for them.

I don't have all the answers to what constitutes their best.  As a mama, I wish I did.  I wish the answers were definitive.  Evidence of yesterday's learning is in the photograph you see above.  This image has value worth memory keeping.

I will remember Eli seeking out a flat head screwdriver to fix the Leapster for Casey.  I won't forget that he explained to Casey the difference between a flat head screwdriver and a Phillips head.  I see the plane toppled over from the big crash in the middle right of this image.  I also see the evidence of the boys attempts to replicate additional planes out of Legos to increase the fleet in number. They used the toy plane as their building guide.  It should be noted that older brother has an addiction to good books.  On his belly, he crinkled his bare toes into the playroom's squishy carpet and entered into his own magical world of fiction.  Younger brother was in a vicious battle against some viking/pirate type dude nearby.  Once the battle concluded victoriously for the younger brother, he did what is becoming a bit more natural to him more and more each day.  Off his shielded vest went, and onto the carpet floor he lay.  Beside his older brother in silence, he began reading a little more of his very first chapter book. I need not forget that he used the pirate hook still on his hand as his official finger follower from word to word.

These were the answers I received yesterday as my eyes cast a motherly glance onto the playroom floor.  Definitive or not, they were real.  My hands were busy setting up stitches as the boys had just finished up addressing their envelopes for their letters to Santa and math time on the iPad and in their math journals.  Before that, there was more reading from the three of us together.

In this moment on the playroom floor, I found my answer.  Real.  No rat race or rank.  They chose knowledge for its sake. Perhaps there is good in busy after all.

{week 21:  my 2 in 52}

.mac :)