Updates

I feel bad that I haven’t written anything since school started.  The second week of school I was sick with a twenty-four-hour bug and lots of my students were home either sick with Covid or in isolation with one or more of their family fallen ill.  All my students are back, all the make-up tests completed and almost all the late work in.  On nights when the kids stay late at school for archery, Shakespeare, or student council, I stay late too tutoring students or grading papers.  I come home and eat and go to bed.  Dinner has been alternating between McDonalds and Dominos for the kids, while Mike and I have been having lots of “date nights.”   The kids miss me at home and Justin hugs me whenever he sees me at school.  The family and house need more of my time, but in some ways, I couldn’t be happier.  I love doing math all day long as much as I love teaching.  It’s rewarding when students say they love math and have more confidence in themselves.  I dream of a school where everyone can solve algebraic equations with ease.  I’d much rather tutor a student than fold laundry or put dishes away.  There needs to be a work life balance but that means owning all my responsibilities which is a challenge. 

It could be that some of my students look forward to doing their math homework as much as I dread housekeeping.  It’s not that it’s so dreadful.  I dream of doing it all.  I know that I’ll feel better when the kids are fed, their uniforms are in order, and the house is tidy for the night, but there are so many other things I’d rather be doing like finishing lesson plans and writing study guides for upcoming tests.  I would love to teach my children by example to embrace all the tasks in life and find joy in obedience to all things if only it weren’t so tempting to put off work that’s not so fun.

Not only is teaching fun, I absolutely love being highly appreciated.  It feels good to do something people tell me I’m good at.  Laundry doesn’t give me the same warm fuzzies even though of all household tasks, I do like laundry the best. I appreciate having clean blouses to wear to work, but I don’t buy myself chocolate for washing my clothes over the weekend like the truffles one of my students gave me for spending an hour after school with her doing extra tutoring.

Mike is busy with work.  He likes having a quiet house with the kids and I at school. When we leave, he’s often still in his pajamas or heading to the shower, and he always tells me, “Have a good day at work.”  The glass wall of our shower shattered without warning, but that unexpected expense made us thankful for Mike’s good job.

Esther had a light case of the Delta variant of Covid a few weeks ago.  It was so mild that I felt worse for her having to stay in isolation than worried about her symptoms.  She lost some sense of smell, but it seems to be all coming back.  She and Sophia both text me a couple of times a week and call on the weekends.  I miss them especially when it would be handy to have another driver around, but they are doing well and are happy.

Basil is taking his schoolwork seriously this year and is working hard.  He is tall enough that when he hugs me, I can lay my face on his shoulder.  He didn’t give me many hugs for a couple of years, but in the past few months he tells me he loves me and hugs me more often.  He can be so annoying, but his smile warms my heart as it always has.

Last week when I was driving the kids to school, I looked in the rearview mirror to see Xenia’s hair blowing around her face.

“Hey Xenia, your hair looks crazy.  It’s so cool.  It’s like in the movie when the woman is standing at the front of Titanic with the man’s arms around her waist.  You know your dad and I did that pose in the Washington rainforest.”

My mind’s eye took me to that triangular platform on the trail to Cape Flattery.  I felt like the beautiful heroine as Mike put his arms around me, and Esther snapped our picture.  Strains from Celine Dion’s famous song sounded in my memory, and I was having the most wonderful moment when…

“You know, Mom.” Basil interrupted, “That movie was about a time traveler who was trying to stop World War II.”

Moment broken while Basil spouted YouTube conspiracy theories, and I argued about the difference between the Titanic and the Lusitania trying to make sense of Basil’s nonsense.

Finally I said, “Basil, you spoiled my moment!  I’m so angry with you!”

I forgot about that exchange until the end of the day.  Jonah and Xenia had walked home, and Basil and Justin and I were in the car when Basil started arguing against the school rules for Gaga ball.  I tried to defend the administration.

He said, “They probably got their information from a disreputable website like a .biz site.”

There was no more to say to his unfounded accusations, so I turned on the car radio which played the last song listened to on my playlist, something by Michael Jackson. 

Basil squealed, “Ow!”

I looked over and saw a happy, adorable boy singing along to the song.  My heart went pitter pat, and I forgave him for everything.

Basil has his permit, but it’s been hard for him and Mike to find time for those early driving lessons.  I don’t want to take him out until he is somewhat street ready.  He’ll be sixteen in November, but it might not be till next summer when we complete the required driving hours.

The little kids are doing well in school.  Jonah has made the adjustment to middle school though he is still trying to balance play time with homework time.  Xenia is restless and wishes she could tackle harder material in school, but she likes her classmates.  Justin is doing well too.

I’ve joined the church choir and we are renewing our efforts to attend Great Vespers as a family on Saturday nights.  I’ve met a couple of new friends through choir practice.  Mike and I have been having company over for dinner nearly every Sunday evening.  I have Thursdays off which I have been able to use to have once a month tea parties and to meet with friends for lunch.  This week I played Mahjongg and was pleased to find that I hadn’t lost my touch when I won the first game.

I don’t know how often I’ll be writing in this season of my life, but the stories are floating in my head.  When you think of me please continue to keep me in your prayers and say, “Lord have mercy.”