Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Home Days

His pockets were bulging with Texas acorns from the parking lot... he stood high and happy...

...up on a platform...

...watching plastic balls work themselves through a maze.

School took place at The Children's Museum yesterday.

And my kindergartner - his mind flew easy and free all those hours. As did mine.

A perk....of being perched right here in one of the largest cities in America - is the seemingly endless array of resources, museums, and opportunities.

As home schoolers....we get to take full advantage.

And it just really makes all this more enjoyable for me.

Because educating your own can wear on a woman. isn't a museum day. It's a home day. 

On home days - we pull out phonics books and math work and puzzle pieces. We leave crumbs on the counters and we make messes and we eat all the snacks that were supposed to last through Friday.

And it's days like these that I fight for air at times.

Case in point....

I woke up this morning to a man looking for clean underwear.

Yes, yes I did.

I'm sure my husband is walking around his office today with a horrible wedgie of some sort - from wearing his least favorite, most uncomfortable pair of boxers. They usually sit at the bottom of his drawer - as a last resort.

But not today. Today...he's more than likely rockin' the wedge. Thanks to his wife.

So before I even emerged from the mattress this morning - I was weary. And feeling inadequate. And very, very behind.


I walked into the kitchen to find that I had forgotten to turn on the dishwasher before bed - leaving us with no clean spoons for breakfast.

And then I turned to the stove and saw that I had failed to scrub the 'soaking' pots from last nights dinner.

And then my oldest had to wear flip flops this morning to the store...because he didn't have any matching socks.

And my to-do's sitting just to my right - this very moment. And I'm counting eight things that didn't get crossed off today. Eight of thirteen.

And sitting here now - as the sun slips away -I feel like a loser. It's a palm to forehead kind of feeling, ya know?

Why in the world would the Lord let the one they call Mama?

And why in the world would He let that gracious man....become one with this flailing woman?

It fails me.

And maybe it does you too. Maybe your day and your feelings paralleled mine. Maybe your forehead is red from the force of your palm, as well?

If so....let us Mama's encourage one another to tackle another day. Just one more. One at a time.

At the very least - let's wash one pair of boxer briefs for our husbands to wear tomorrow, along with one pair of matching socks for the six year old. And while those items are tumbling in the dryer....we can tuck in and pray Truth over ourselves. Find some verses that fit and storm the gates of Heaven with them.

I'll be doing this with Colossians 1:9-14.

All of the Mommy's who struggle with the non-museum days, like I do....

Join me.