Dear Journal,

11.28.2011

{Would YOU want to spend all day every day with this lady? Yeah, that's what I thought.}

I'm feeling like a really, really happy little failure right now.
Strange, but true.

So, the home-school thing didn't work out.

In a lot of ways, I loved it.

I loved having in-depth discussions about serious/cool topics, like the Salem Witch Trials...or the big debate about whether or not Springville residents should vote for a tax raise in order to fund a rec center. It was cool to give Kort all of the facts, and then let him suss out the details and decide what he thought for himself

I loved seeing his love for reading reignite.

I loved seeing his love for art and writing reignite.

I loved our home-school field trip group.

I really loved the good days.

Then there were the not so good days.

Days when I felt like I just couldn't get it all done.

Kort didn't want to listen. I didn't want to teach. The dishes were two days old, and Tennyson seemed like a chubby, grunt-y, scoot-y, delicious little shadow far off in the distance who I vaguely remembered, but...?

Then there was the fact that I didn't get to take any more naps. {Go ahead and minus 50 points right there.}

Then there was also the fact that I started taking Metformin again because we really want to have another baby {it's totally okay for me to try for baby number three even though I'm just a sub-par mom...yes? ...right? ...maybe?}and that Metformin makes me feel like I am going to throw up pretty much all the time, and that makes it extra hard to want to crawl out of bed, put my game face on, and teach 6 hours of home-school to a rambunctious eight year old.

Then there's that whole thing where "NOT teaching home-school" sort of defeats the purpose of "home-schooling," and such. You know, there's ALWAYS that.

So I would have to push through, but I wouldn't be very nice, and that's a problem, because I promised myself that I would be nice, but I feel like poo, and I'm tired, and being nice is just a really tall order for a tired mom who feels like poo, so I would end up being mean, and then I would go to bed that night feeling all sorts of devastated that I had been mean, and feeling like home-schooling {or my failure to do it well} was going to drive me and Kort further apart rather than bringing us closer together like I hoped it would.

{Breath.}

Then I would wake up the next morning resolved to do better.
And I would.
And we would have great experiences, and lots of positive strides.

And then I took Kort to a "Thanksgiving Etiquette Dinner" that was being put on by his home-school group. He had such an amazing time. He was polite and respectful. He had a blast with the other kids. After the etiquette lesson, we let the kids run around the church gym and play for about an hour. Again, Kort loved every second of it, and I thought to myself

"This just might work afterall."

Then we went out to get in the van, and found that the Elementary School kids {right next door} were all out on the playground screaming and running and swinging and having a ball, and Kort turned to me with watery eyes and the tight "I'm trying really hard not to cry but it's not really working" strain in his voice and says:

"Mom, I really, really, really, wish I hadn't messed up."

"I know," I say. {Wanting to bawl, myself.}

And it just stinks, ya know?

Parenting is wonderful, and MAN it is hard too.

Despite my best efforts {which, let's be honest, probably aren't all that awesome or impressive}he longs to go to school where he can see his friends, and eat yucky lunches, and learn things alongside his peers.

I decided that a full month at home with me was probably punishment enough, {for both parties} and that he could try serving out the remaining six months as a suspended sentence. If he still has problems with behavior, I'm thinking that I'll try having him scrub toilets with a toothbrush, THAT is a little more "win/win" in my humble opinion. {Which, I guess is also dependent upon whose toothbrush he uses to do the scrubbing.}

Part of me still loves the idea of home-school and is really sad that we just can't hack it.

Part of me is jumping for joy because this morning I fed kids and sent them out the door, went walking the hills with a favorite neighb, put the baby down for a nap, ate a delicious snack, read a book, wrote a blog from bed, and NOW I'm fixin to have me a little nap.

So, I'm a failure.
But sometimes failure feels really good.
Who knew?

Xo,
Lola