The other day, my husband was staring morosely into the mirror. He actually apologized to me for his thinning hair.
“Honey,” I said, “Do you see the shiny hairs on my head?”
“Shiny hairs? No, what are you talking about?”
“Look at my part…do you see all those shiny gray hairs there?”
“Mmmm…I suppose there are a few…”
“Yes, and I suppose your hair is thinning.”
Truthfully, love is blind. I have quite a bit more than just a few gray hairs. And yes, if I compare my husband’s head to photos taken 4 or 5 years ago, the difference is noticeable. But we, thankfully, don’t see that about each other.
Similarly, when I read about a “day in the life” of another homeschool mom, I wonder where she has the time and energy to do all that. I write about my own day, and I think I am describing the gray hairs, but nobody seems to notice them.
Really. Let’s get past the running at 430 am, ok? Let’s look at children who have to be dragged to the school table, children who cease their dutiful labors the very minute I leave them unattended. How about the laundry that isn’t done or the dishes in the sink? And what’s up with not realizing until too late that I should have started those pork chops an hour ago?
And what’s missing from my day? Snuggling on the couch with my children and a pile of books. Baking something for dessert. Playing a board game. Doing a craft…or at least letting my kids play with Playdoh. It’s not that we don’t do these things, because we do. Sometimes. But not as much as we used to, and not as much as I would like. And I just have to accept that this is the way it is right now. It is a temporary thing, and as long as I hold on to that vision of where I’d like to be, we’ll get back there eventually.
Fritz is currently working on a new poem for memorization: The Village Blacksmith by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The blacksmith labors from dawn until dusk with each day much like the last.
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.
His is not an easy life. There is no lolling on a porch swing watching the sun set or savoring a good book. But he puts in an honest day’s work and sleeps well at night. This is how I see my current life, and I am grateful for the opportunity to prove my mettle – to prove to myself that I can do this hard job.
But, oh! for a cozy fire, a cup of tea, a clean house, a good novel, and nothing much to do!