So I’ve blown my cover as a hard-driving homeschooler.
And I’m not a religious homeschooler either.
I’m just an ordinary mom, with ordinary kids.
And that’s totally OK with me. In fact I pursue ordinary these days (though I fear that might make me a slacker).
After a month sprinkled with travels, dogs coming and going, random meetings and commitments and appointments, we were toast. And understandably so. So we took time to find equilibrium again; it took us about a week or so.
We’re back on track now, and it couldn’t feel better. Back to the usual schedule of school and soccer and dog training and chores and nightly dinners together. The ho-hum daily and weekly rhythms we’ve come to expect. The rhythms that ground us. That sustain us.
As much as I homeschool my kids because I want freedom, flexibility, and the ability to choose how and when we do things, I really do love the ordinary routine.
(I suspect my kids do too but don’t tell them I’m on to them)
Do you ever feel the same, glad for the excitement and change of pace and chances to see and do new things, but then even more glad for the return to your ordinary routine? (even if it's just usual old history class)
There’s fun in mixing it up, for sure. That’s where the growing points are (growing points = pain points, or is that just me?). It definitely keeps things interesting and holds the boredom and numbness of routine at bay. Of course change is a good thing, without it we’re stagnant and that’s no good.
But it’s not what feeds my soul, what keeps me grounded and feeling most like myself, feeling like I can give and nurture and educate and be the mother and teacher I aspire to each day. Those everyday aspirations.
The simple aspirations are what fill my heart, the rhythms of the ordinary everyday. Not much more.
And I’m OK with that.