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Somethin’ tells me I’m into…somethin’

  • Posted on February 10, 2010 at 10:02 pm
This entry is part 3 of 3 in the series Write of Passage

It’s quiet in here. Quiet except for the tap tap tapping of my keyboard, which echoes through the vaulted ceilings, bounces around the trophy cases and off the books before going where all good taps go to rest. A croupy cough and sniff joins the tapping, poor soul. The temptation to scoot over there and slip into nagging-mom mode rises higher with each sound. She came to school to get an education – the first lesson is to take care of yourself.

It’s quiet in here. The kids are in bed, finally. Their backpacks stand at attention by the front door, waiting for the grab-and-dash of morning. There are flat-packed boxes are on the floor, waiting for me to unpack them and turn them into a 3-d sculpture, a functional piece of furniture. They’ve been standing sentry since before Christmas.

It’s quiet in here, except for the swishswish of the dishwasher, the thrumming hum of the dryer, the staccato thud of the washing machine.

It’s home.

Look around you and write about what you see. Create something positive out of that. Is there anything you can take away from the space you’re in every day that can bring you to a better emotional place within it?

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5 comments on Somethin’ tells me I’m into…somethin’

This is SO not worth it…

  • Posted on September 25, 2008 at 10:36 am

Kid does not want to get out of bed.

Kid gets pulled out of bed by me – and then noodle legs himself into the floor.

Kid gets picked back up by me AGAIN, landed on his feet, and gently nudged in the general direction of the kitchen. Noodle legs again.

My head explodes just a smidge, and I yell “Papaw YOU get him up, I need to get the OTHER kid ready for school” (Papaw’s response: to sit on his ass and yell “Kid? get outta bed!”)

I run and get Kid2 started on breakfast, snatch NoodleLegs up out of the floor and land a swat on his behind – which as usual results in an ear-piercing scream. You know the scream – the one that sounds like a serial killer just found a victim.

Said scream brings My Sainted Mama running “to the rescue”. She’s been in her room the entire time (as usual) and has absolutely no clue what’s been going on for the last 20 minutes. She picks him up, carries him into the kitchen, sits him down in his chair, and pours the milk over his cereal. And then stares at him in wide-eyed wonder as he noodlescootches his way out of the chair and onto the floor, leaving said cereal to turn to mush.

She put him back in his chair and tried to hand him his clothes – and of course he promptly dropped them on the floor.

She stared at him.

And stared.

And said “You’re going to miss school if you don’t get dressed!”

And I said “That’s the general idea, Sainted Mama o Mine. He DOES NOT WANT TO GO.”

I picked the pants up and put them on him. I pulled the shirt on over his head and slid his noodlearms through the sleeves. The lightbulb finally, blessedly flickered on in Mama’s head and she went to retrieve his shoes so I could finish putting the lunches in boxes and doublecheck backpacks.

~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the school year – mornings exactly like this one – are being looked at with an extreme distaste. They like being with the kids in their classes (up to a point). The homework is for the most part busywork – practice on skills they’ve achieved proficiency in. They have been out of school (sick) almost as much as they’ve been there.

I want to let them go back to homeschooling. I just don’t know how we can achieve that without my head exploding.

2 comments on This is SO not worth it…