Everyone blogs. I have about ten blogs saved to my favorites, and manage to really keep up with about two of them. I used to have a blog but decided I didn't really have anything original to say (I mean really, how many of us have thoughts that are that special?), so I did away with it. Then, we started homeschooling. This probably has not changed the fact that I don't have many original words, but it did cause a desire in me to keep some sort of record of this story that we as a family have embarked on.
This record may or may not be interesting to some, but I'm not writing to collect readers, though if at some point, you find yourself reading this and you stick with me, you deserve a pat on the back! I can get rather long-winded at times. I have had more than one person say to me, "You are verbal! You should write a book!" Maybe I will become an author at some point in my life (even if I remain unpublished), but as in all things, there are seasons, and the most authoring I can manage right now is a quick entry here on the net.
Right now, this blog is my journal. I haven't invited anyone but my husband to join it. In a few weeks, or months, or maybe never, I might make it public. It is not meant to be a resource blog for fellow homeschoolers, though if anyone eventually gathers insight or information that helps them along the way, I would be thrilled.
Before I had children, I used to relish sitting quietly for hours with a notebook and a pen. I would sit in a large chain bookstore, sipping my overpriced latte and feeling quite educated as I journaled my thoughts (they were still not quite original, but I thought they were at the time). I would construct poems and silly stories. I would make lists of my favorite things. At times, I would just write down words that I considered weighty and useful. Sometimes, I would drive out to the Reservoir and enjoy a sunset or a cool breeze and journal there. I discovered that I loved words, and I loved reminding myself of where I had been and where I had yet to go.
Then, the babies came and I no longer could find the time for consistent journaling. Don't misunderstand this as a bitter thing. Great were the joys (and sometimes aches and challenges) of nursing a sweet baby and rocking millions of miles through the night in my comfy chair with a little one breathing rapidly against my neck. Great were the triumphs (and also frustrations) of crawling, toddling, potty training, learning to swim, first words, first songs, etc. Great was the bittersweetness of first days at Mother's Morning Out and preschool, summer day camp for my oldest, and even beginning first grade in a traditional school system, causing me to spend more time than I ever imagined in the minivan. But this left little time for me (blog on "me-time" to come at some point).
Left: Leaving the hospital with newborn Carter, seven years ago. Mommy on some sort of narcotic and looking very drugged!
Below: Carter visits newborn Addie and me in the hospital -- Mommy opted out of narcotics this time -- much better!
At this point in my life, though, I would like to begin journaling again. I chose this venue because I type much more rapidly than I write with the pen (in my "career" as a legal assistant aide before I had my children, I was up to 85 words per minute, though I believe that has slowed considerably). Also, there is the added benefit of websites like blurb.com where you can have your blog made into a book. I feel like I'm scrapbooking in a way the adventures of this stage of life. Maybe some day, I will have the blog turned into a book so my children may look back and enjoy their own history as well as reading through some of the joys and struggles that came with motherhood and educating.
To my sweet children: At the ages of seven and four, you have brought more joy into my life than I could have ever imagined. My prayer will always be that you love Jesus deeply with all your heart and soul, and serve Him to your greatest abilities, whether in small or great things. The smallest endeavor becomes great (even if not in the eyes of man), when genuinely given to our Lord. Anything that comes from serving Him is a blessing.
Love, Mom
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