Getting over the hump

Many years ago, a seasoned homeschool friend told me about homeschooling humps that everyone hits in November and February and how, instead of making drastic decisions because nothing feels like it's working, there might be sense in waiting it out, giving it a go, and not assuming that something is terribly wrong. I really valued that advice because, like clockwork, I hit those humps. They felt terrible. I felt terrible as a teacher, as a mother, as a person. Moreover, I was not even sure that my kids would not have been better off in school somewhere, under someone else's care. I would be working, plugging in nine to five and be a productive member of the society. And the torture and drudgery would cease. Usually, when I waited just long enough, and reset enough, I would overcome those humps and would go back to star-eyed homeschool devotee, trying to convince others to give it a try.

Around the time that I had my youngest, I hit a major hump. With child number five, I thought I was an old pro at this whole parenting and homeschooling and getting balance thing. I gave it time. I waited. I schemed and arranged. I sent this one to school, these ones to preschool, this one out. I demanded support and cleaning help in the house. I searched for babysitters and nannies. I tried online school. I even tried moving into a different community, hoping that being within walking distance from the park and JCC and other frum homeschoolers will make a difference. Yet the hump kept on not getting smaller. I just could not go over it.

I was desperate.

I was depressed.

I was so miserable that I made a decision to send all the children to school, including the youngest, in the middle of the year just so I could get a reset. I sent them all out, but I did not recapture that feeling of peace that I was after. I breathed, but it was shallow panting.

Then, the following year, I kept my second child home and sent everyone else to school. It was clear by this point that whatever issues my child was having had nothing to do with my educational approach and that he needed homeschooling/unschooling to function. In fact, I started out again in the place of desperation: there was no good school to send him to. It was a year of hell, for many private and personal reasons. I felt like I was still climbing over the hump, out of breath, and miserable.

This year I have two at home. It is not perfect. But it is significantly better. They get along really well. They are content, for the most part. My daughter picked up reading. My son is (finally!) expressing interest in trying out things that he never would have attempted before. I am slowly, slowly rebuilding myself. I do not doubt myself anymore, not today, at least. When the kids are happy, momma is happy. They are also older, can be left at home alone, can work independently. I can get out, take a walk, run errands, make it to appointments on my own.

It only took me good three years, but I think I am getting over this hump.

I am glad that we live at a time with long life expectancy. I can afford the luxury of spending this part of my life on homeschooling, and then still feel like there will be plenty of time to work, develop interests, get involved in projects.

Priorities

There is this harmful and damaging myth that one (especially a woman) can do it all and do it all with a smile. This myth leaves so many of us crying out in frustration because we are trying to do the best that we can, with the resources that we have, yet somehow we are constantly bombarded with the messages that we are not enough. We are not doing enough, not caring enough, not volunteering enough, not healthy enough, not happy enough... Notice that I am avoiding such things like being thin enough, put together enough, or rich enough. I sort of hope that we have stopped comparing ourselves with others or realized that it is a pointless task. But what about all these other areas, that are immaterial and seem so important?

It is a matter of priorities and those priorities are constantly shifting. I will throw out there some choices that I made today, possibly not "correctly enough", but I hope that my disclosure will make all realize that you do you, and don't worry about others doing it bigger and better.

I was jetlagged, so I am relying on challah from my freezer plus assorted pitas and bagels for shabbos. I am not making challah from scratch.

I wanted to take the homeschool kids out today, so I had to cook the bulk of shabbos last night. No aroma of homemade prep in my house this Friday.

I wanted to go walking, collect beautiful fall leaves and maybe do that leaf watercolor activity, but the kids' eyes lit when I mentioned Gem and Mineral Show. I wanted them to attend a workshop on gem identification, but they were more interested in wandering between the vendors, looking at the stones and fossils, and conversing about them. I prioritized a pleasant time at the show over the educational component. Also, since I took the kids today, I will not be taking the younger kids to the same show on Sunday. On the plus side, for once I did not have to worry about losing kids in the crowds, or constantly reminding not to touch and look with your eyes, not your hands.

I wanted to get a chunk of homeschool work done in the morning before the show, but the basement was in a hair-raising state, so I asked them to clean it up as a birthday present for me over buying me yet another set of earrings or a necklace from the show. I also saw that I have their cooperation in cleaning because they did not seem overwhelmed by the mess.

I wanted 12 yo to do laining, but math ended up taking more time, partly because I saw that one of the concepts needed additional practice and he admitted to not understanding how to work it out. I wanted to show him a complete solution, but he wanted to take over and do his mental math as soon as he understood what needed to be done.

I wanted to have a homemade lunch, but we left late for the show, hung out there longer than I thought it would take, and so I ended up grabbing random food before driving more carpool. No, I did not pack lunch or snacks. I did not even grab my water bottle.

I wanted to do my nails before shabbos, but I chose to be blogging.

Shabbat shalom!

(Am I freaking out about academics and skills? A bit, yes, but I think learning how to do things pleasantly, and how to prioritize is also important. I need to give the kids time and space to try those things out, in a safe environment when the stakes are not too high.)

summer is coming

It is June. End of school year is nearing or already passed. It seems like a good time to draw some conclusions, see where we are holding.

I started a vegetable garden after a long hiatus. We had wooden boards leftover from the deck construction that have been sitting for all these months. I wanted to make raised garden beds because local clay soil is not conducive to plant growth. Every simple DIY project called for circular saws and power tools. I don't own any of them. I could not manage to be around when others could help me. Desperately, after digging through my husband's toolbox and coming up empty, I went to Home Depot on Mother's Day and bought L-shaped brackets for the corners. At that point, the kids came out to "help". Then my husband appeared, drilled the holes and voila, after months, I had garden beds.

I planted some veggies and begged the kids to keep the backyard gate closed, lest the deer, rabbits and other local wildlife would eat the plants before us humans.

My oldest graduated from middle school. He is going out of state to yeshiva high school next year. I have been very careful to separate my feelings about it from his feelings. He seems to be excited about the idea. I am excited for him. This past year it felt like he was dragging his feet, not getting anything out of school. A change was necessary. Change ought to be good.

12 yo just finished the review of Beshalach today. That is four parshiyot covered this year. His Hebrew reading has improved, even though he balked at any and all approaches that I tried. Somehow, it clicked enough to be smooth enough when he is calm enough. However, Hebrew is still gibberish to him. The shorashim mean nothing. He flails in the dark, not sure what goes where.

I found a gymnastics/parkour place for 12 yo. They also have classes for 8 yo sister. It is not around the corner, but at least I found a place and signed them up. They seem to enjoy the lessons. 12 yo is especially looking for teachers that do not put kids down.

We are babysitting two geriatric guinea pigs. A friend got them from someone who was moving and then she went out of the country for three weeks. Good thing we practiced on my daughter's class pet. The average lifespan of a guinea pig is 6-8 years and these guys are 9. I feel that this is a very easy assignment: no need to bond, train, discipline, contain. Just feed the piggies and keep them comfortable. Try to keep them alive, but if they happen to kick the bucket while on our watch, well, that's old age... They are cute. The kids enjoy them. 3 yo has gotten quite gentle with them, although she keeps moving their castle houses because leaving them alone and observing them with her eyes is not an option. I am considering this a trial run for pet ownership.

3 yo is potty-training. It had to happen one day, and that day was a day before an 8-hour car ride for Shavuot. She is still working on bowel movement, but no pee accidents and dry all night. We have not shut down the pool (yet).

Speaking of the pool, we will be living there this summer. I have four swimmers! I am even finding myself enjoying pool time because there is much less watching required. 5 yo has been trained by me to swim and then his older siblings took over, especially 12 yo. He has been encouraging and working with his little brother, teaching him to dive, to swim in the deep end, and even to go down the water slide. That leaves me just 3 yo to watch. That girlie got comfortable near the water. She can stand in the shallow end of the deep pool, which was a large confidence booster. Within a few times, she started jumping into the pool, putting her face in the water, blowing bubbles and even attempting to swim in the baby pool. I sort of hope that she will learn how to swim by the end of the summer. All of this happened without swim lessons. When the kids are ready, they will try things. When the kids are gently encouraged by an adult in the water without pressure to do this today and that tomorrow, they will develop their own timeline and set their own goals. My 5 yo son was SURE that he will have to be 7 or 8 until he'll be ready to go down the water slide, and I was not so sure whether his timeline was wrong. But then he got enough encouragement and support from his siblings to try it. No, he is not interested in stroke refinement. He is interested in being dumped into 11 feet of water.

Oh, and 12 yo somehow almost finished 7th grade Khan academy math... And he is excellent with little kids. And he knows exactly the right thing to say to a child who is feeling down. And he gives awesomely sincere pep talks. If only he would apply them all to himself...

The kids are not going to Jewish summer day camps. I do not trust the leadership. I do not trust that anyone out there cares for the well-being of my children. I love the concept of a Jewish summer camp as a positive experience of Judaism, but I am no longer naive (or desperate). I wish it were not so. I wish I would get a week's break from all the kids' management. But it looks like camp Mommy all summer long. Zoo, science museums, pools and parks, here we come!

Conflict of interest

I signed up for a drawing class with 11 yo. We signed up together because he expressed a rare interest in doing something outside of his comfort zone. I signed up because I have been waiting my whole entire life to take art classes. First it was not for me, then how would I make a living like that, because artists are starving... then I could not afford the supply fee that accompanied art classes in college and then there was no time and no money and no place to take them. And finally, finally I live within a short distance of an art center and they offer a glorious selection of multimedia classes. I took an evening class in acrylics followed by watercolor. It quickly became evident that I need to get the basics of drawing down first. When I was looking at the selection, trying to avoid Friday nights and Saturdays and Sundays, I saw a mid-morning class. I asked 11 yo whether I can leave him at the house to take that class or whether he wanted to take it with me. He wanted to sign up, and I dared not breathe from happiness. I imagined us drawing together, learning side-by-side.

Now, these classes are my outlet, both for creativity and as a chance to experience "flow", get swallowed by an activity, let the time pass unnoticed. I so rarely experience flow that I forget how I need it. Blogging took a hit because with teens I am up and talking and dealing with them late into the evening. If I want to do anything immersive, I need it on the calendar and away from home. I am not aspiring to produce the next work of art, but I am treating this time as a therapy of sorts. And I really, really need it.

Every class comes with a supply list. We printed it out and hit Hobby Lobby. marveling at the materials. 11 yo seemed intrigued. When we attended the first class, everyone was asked to disclose their level of training and what they were planning on getting out of the class. Everyone was older than me by at least a decade. Three people were retired. I think it was a confidence boost to hear that everyone was a beginner. 11 yo jumped in, but I saw that he was not exactly taking all the creative risks that the teacher recommended. Then we sketched at home. He seemed excited to practice what he has learned.

11 yo sketching out of his own free will

The following week I made a mistake of scheduling an early morning appointment with a psychologist for 11 yo. I can probably write a whole angry megilah about childhood mental health professionals who refuse to help you and think it is perfectly fine to tell it to the child's face. It was a total waste of time, accompanied by lowering of self-esteem for 11 yo. That was not exactly the best way to be going into doing something hard and outside of your comfort zone. And now we were late to class, 40 minutes late. I felt that missing that time from a two-and-a-half hour class that is not graded is not a big deal. I told as much to my son, grumbling about all the time we wasted that morning. But he realized that we were late, and not a little bit late, but ridiculously late, and he started asking to go home. Now I used to be super anally punctual. My old self would probably preferred to go home and hide under the covers too. My new chutzpadik self proclaimed that there is more than enough class time to salvage and I am going in. My son refused. I gave him an option to join me at any point, or to hang out in the library next door. He buried himself in a comic book.

This week, my 2 yo has been sick. I called on my MIL to watch her so I could take 11 yo and myself to the class. She came. 11 yo woke up crabby, declared today to be a bad day and notified me that he quit drawing. I kept cursing the psychologist for the damage he did the previous week because this week my child did not attempt sketching. He probably felt that he fell hopelessly behind, despite my assurances that every class could be free-standing. I used all my calm arguments trying to coax 11 yo to come. He flat out refused. No reasons were given except that he quit and he's not coming. I told him that I expect him just to come and sit in on class, not necessarily draw. On that note, staying calm, I told him that I am starting up the car and I will be waiting for him. he said sadly that I will be waiting for a long time.

I went to the car and sat in there, as promised. The clock was ticking. I'm reading a book on meditation. I have taken yoga. I know about putting yourself in timeout, counting to ten, to a hundred, deciding that it is not that important, not worth the fight, letting go. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe...

But I couldn't. This class was important to ME and I was missing MY class time dealing with my child who declared that he is not coming. I had to psych myself into going, into jumping in, into believing that at the end of eight weeks I will get all the necessary sketching skills under my belt. I had to believe that I am not frustrated suburban housewife dallying in art without any talent and what a waste of time and money anyway! And you are abandoning a sick child!

...I had been so good about not butting heads with 11 yo. I had been flexible, understanding. I dropped a whole lot of academic expectations, just let him be, worked on the relationship, listened to his side, tried to understand what it was like to be him. But now he was at odds with what was best for me. I want so little, and now one thing that was supposed to be purely for me became about HIM.

I stormed back into the house. As promised, he was on the top bunk, hiding in the blankets. I told him firmly that I expect him to come right now! And I do not want to count. And I do not want to punish. And I do not demand much. But he was not coming. I yelled how I hate quitters and people who do not try. He did not respond.

I walked out and drove to my class, late yet again.

Unless you have a difficult child, of the kind of "difficult" where psychologists decide that they will not handle this, you might not understand what day-to-day life feels like. I cannot overpower his will, I cannot punish him, I cannot produce enough consequences to make him do the things that he decides to refuse to do. Moreover, he usually does not have a solid reason why he dug in his heels. I just feel that I made a big mistake with trying to take this class together because this is setting up the ground for a conflict every single week and poisoning one activity that I could have claimed as my own.

Fee(n)ding for themselves

Last day of the winter vacation for the dayschool kids, and they made both lunch and dinner. Yes, that includes even my moody teenager. He was tired of leftovers. So he made mulligatawny soup and garlic bread. I was downstairs organizing with a friend, so I was not available at all. I would have settled for PBJ or chick patties, as long as I did not have to supervise. But the three older kids rallied together and made soup and bread. And then they rebelled against even more leftovers for dinner, so they made mac-n-cheese (from scratch because I don't use boxed stuff, so that's how they think mac-n-cheese is supposed to be).

And before that, on New Year's Day, when I finally got everyone back from the JCC swimming pool, I was exhausted both physically and mentally. Yeah, doctor's wives do not get a winter break. We get pinch hitting calls when the legal holidays are many and the Jewish doctors cover for everyone. And nothing is open. So I took everyone to JCC for an AM swim before they would close. I promised them hot pretzels, but the cafe closed (or was it never open?) before we came out. By the time we got home and I was faced with a full load of chlorinated laundry after wrestling two kids through showers, the last thing I wanted to do was worry about lunch.

Same older kids jumped on it. 7 yo scrambled eggs. 11yo and 13yo worked together to make a vegetarian taco salad, served on top of skillet-toasted tortillas. They even fed something to the younger siblings because they practiced no child left behind.

How do I explain to all the moms who rejoice that the break is over and that the kids are back at school that these moments of motivation do not happen when they are gone? That 13 yo has not been packing his lunch, let alone making food for others?

I know, I know, kids can cook in their spare time. Kids can cook for Shabbos. Kids can cook on Sundays. I know I could have made this post into a feel-good story about how independent my kids are, how good. But I really wonder what stands behind their motivation. Why do they rise to an occasion only when they have been home for a while, and not on a daily basis? Are they too stressed and overwhelmed? Do they need to spend a large chunk of time bonding as a family first, and then they start to see the needs? Do I need to completely drop out of a picture for them to rise to an occasion? Or do they feel cornered, like there is no grown-up who will "take care" of them, so they might as well fend for themselves?

As much as their actions look good, I think it is very important to find out what is driving them. Each one might be driven by a different factor, too.

Daily schoolwork for 11 yo

I have one child at home and this is what we aim to do every day:

• Chumash. His bar mitzvah Torah reading is the first day of Pesach, last bit of Parshat Bo. We have started Shemot from the beginning. We have agreed to do four pesukim per day. The latest round of child's input landed us at him reading one day and me reading the next, with him translating to the best of his ability and me supplying the words he does not know or remember. We are using a Chumash with Rashi menukad, and I aim to do one Rashi per day. Sometimes it works, sometimes it backfires. He continues to have reading difficulties, so my goal is to build his confidence in being able to read Chumash and Rashi.
• Yahadus. We are using Yahadus textbooks, reading a chapter a day. I do all the English reading, while he reads the name of each mitzvah in Hebrew and the pasuk that the mitzvah is derived from. Then we pull out Stone Chumash and he highlights the relevant part of each pasuk. 11 yo also made a "Mitzvah Man": on graph paper he made a large rectangle that contains 600 squares (geometry snuck in there) and added extra 13 as hands and feet. For every mitzvah deoraita, he highlights a square. I also use The Taryag Mitzvot Manual tables as a review and reinforcement. Since 11 yo is a kinesthetic learner, I photocopied the relevant pages onto cardstock, cut out each mitzvah and separated its Hebrew name from Hebrew description from English summary. As we learn more mitzvot, 11 yo's goal was to line them up in order and match up all three parts. This was not trivial when we got to Avodah Zara. My secret goal is for him to know all 613 by heart following the order for Mishne Torah. I got these ideas from the One Minute Masmid by Jonathan Rietti. I am proud to say that we finished the first textbook this week and he was able to organize all 86 mitzvot with their explanations and translations correctly.
• Chayienu. He does one page of Chayeinu workbook Daled. I know that he's technically in 6th grade, but Vav proved to be too hard and he started to give up, so we backed up a bit. It's Yediyot Klaliot, and there is plenty of new to him material in there. Currently we are working on knowing the seder of Parshyot in order. ( I know there are young kids who know this, but I also know plenty of adults who learned the song as kids and totally forgot it).
• Lashon Hatorah. Honestly, I could not remember where we were a year ago before he attended day school, so I did what I do best: went online and ordered a new workbook for middle and upper school students. It is faster paced than other books. So far, it is review material, and he is going at a good solid pace. I skip along pages that are repetitive.
• Math. He asked me more than once NOT to continue with Math Mammoth. Since last year he did some 6th grade math, he placed himself into 7th grade Khan Academy math. There are holes in his knowledge, so I have to often sit next to him when he hits unfamiliar areas. He gets to pace himself, so he sees his progress through badges and percent of material covered and decides how much time he wants to devote to math on any given day.
• Grammar. He also does that at Khan Academy. From what I see, good solid progress. 
• Coding. Khan Academy and Scratch from homeschool coop.

These are the skeletal basics. This is what he has as a daily plan. He can get it all done by 10 am, but it does not always happen.

Now, what this does not reflect is the insane amount of helpful housework 11 yo does. He sets the table without being asked, unloads the dishwasher, cooks for himself and others, plays with younger siblings, changes diapers, washes 4 yo, brings in groceries, cleans up, babysits. As far as being a mentsch, this child shines.

A Wednesday

I am tired. Oh so deeply, essentially tired.

I don't want to whine about how tired I am.

I had a bad night of sleep. 11 yo got braces on his upper teeth and an expander and the pain kicked in in the middle of the night. He marched over at 3 am for a dose of Tylenol.

Not everyone had lunch packed this morning. 13 yo was having a picture day at school, but it was on me to remind him the morning of that he needs to bring a suit on a hanger. 11 yo refused to eat breakfast due to braces and inability to chew his usual morning fare: a bagel. No alternatives would do. He would not think about what to pack for lunch for the homeschool coop classes coming up later in the day. He refused to daven. He refused to go. He refused to do any schoolwork, to listen to any suggestions on how to deal with his teeth, or to offer any of his own. And the whole time I kept coaching myself internally: do not yell, it's his anxiety talking, do not yell, it will make it worse, do not yell...

I packed my lunch. I wiped the kitchen windows. I washed out the recycling bin.

He did get in the car when it was time to leave. He acquiesced to a water bottle, but no food. We listened to iPod in silence during the drive. I felt drained already.

I taught my class. 11 yo is in my class, and he was super jittery the entire time: pacing, touching, blurting things out. I find teaching exciting and draining, even if it's just middle school chemistry to five homeschool kids. My mom called in the middle. We have been taking coop classes on Wednesdays for six years, but she still called when I was teaching.

Then I assisted in another class. 11 yo freaked out about a forgotten password, then he recalled it. I helped paint some rocks. I had lunch. I chatted with other moms, all the while keeping an eye on the clock for the afternoon carpool. 11 yo came over to graze. He had a few crackers. I tried to pretend that it is normal to skip breakfast and lunch, nothing to worry about.

I left at 2 pm. 11 yo seemed agreeable to finding something to eat at home while I would drive carpool. I meekly suggested that he look over his schoolwork and see if he can do anything on his own. I dropped him off and zoomed to preschool to get 2 yo. She was sleeping, and sleepily transferred to her car seat. Then we zoomed onto the highway to get the rest of the kids from their school.

By some sheer miracle (and the existence of people more organized than I) I am part of a carpool where I have to drive only 2-3 times a week instead of 10 times. However, since there are six kids loading into my car, it is never smooth. These ones do not want to sit with those. That one is touching this one. This one is eating. That one is sort of trying to say a bad word while talking about it. These ones are just annoying. That one is loud. And they all have been cooped up in the school building since 8 am and now they are set loose in my car. I used to talk to my kids when we drive places. I used to think they were loud. But this is a whole new level.

But today was not bad. Today they even loaded quickly enough for the carpool lady not to hustle anyone. I had same iPod going and as long as it was playing, they seemed quiet. I checked my messages to see who is dropped off where today. Mind you, it is 4 pm now and I have been driving since 2.

We get home. 13 yo and 7 yo change into their bathing suits for swimming. Years ago, when I just started homeschooling, the boys tried out for a swim team and were not able to swim enough to qualify. Now it is a whole different story. We live a five-minute walk from the JCC. There are no major streets to cross. 13 yo is legally old enough to babysit. But JCC apparently has a rule that he is not old enough to be 7 yo's guardian while she is attending swim practice. They are not just splashing in the pool, they are attending an organized class, but they need to be watched by a legal; guardian. So they cannot walk over there and back on their own, and they cannot be left there unsupervised while they are swimming. I am very upset by this. Have I known this, I probably would not have signed 7 yo up. 13 yo is old enough to get there and back on his own. And I wonder: we keep complaining how kids nowadays are so ill-adapted to independent living, how millennials are such spoiled brats, how they don't know how to be tough. Why do we set up such rules in place that keep kids on a short parental leash for so long? How are large families supposed to manage this? I tried bringing my younger kids to practice, but it is no fun keeping 2 yo for half an hour away from the pool's edge. Besides. she was just in the car for over an hour. All she wants to do is come home, chill and play.

My only solution was to ask 11 yo if he so kindly would not mind watching his two younger siblings at home while I watched his two older siblings at the pool, twice a week. He agreed, but today both younger siblings disagreed. I ended up shoving two older kids out to the door, leaving 11 yo in charge of two screaming kids. If you want to feel mom guilt, do that, especially after spending zero time with the babies the whole day.

After the pool, faster, faster, let's get home, I know the little ones were storming the pantry before I left. I have not been home since 9 am, so there is no dinner because there was no time for the dinner. But never fear, we are going to eat out tonight at a new Israeli restaurant because that's the best I could come up with. As we are getting in the car to drive that ridiculously short distance home, 11 yo called me to hurry up because 2 yo did not stop crying the entire time I was gone.

I bitterly commented how I need more grown-ups in my life, so I am not leaving an 11 yo in braces pain in charge of two screaming kids. 13 yo wryly commented how he used to be that 11 yo. Yes, kid, we have been making do for years. It is sad when kids have to step up and function as adults.

I am greeted at the doorstep by a teary 2 yo clutching her blankie next to her big brother. 4 yo is freaking out that this new restaurant will not have hot dogs and what he will eat then? The rest of the food is "yucky". It does not take a supersleuth to figure out that he did not nap today, that he's tired, that the last thing he wants is to go out to eat instead of snuggling on the couch with mommy. But there is no dinner, and I am not serving noodles yet again.

The new restaurant was a bright spot. Even my husband made it home on time to come with us. The food was plentiful and good, they had schnitzel for 4 yo, 11 yo was able to chew and get mashed potatoes. The rebbitzen of the community invited us out for Succot lunch. Yay for procrastination! One less meal to plan for!

And then my husband got called up, And then we got home at 7 pm. 7 yo had twenty minutes of nightly reading log. 4 yo went back into full meltdown mode, and I was trying to manage the kids from the couch while half-listening to my daughter read. It is clicking, but it is still slow. Both boys were reading fluently and for pleasure at this age. She still does so little functional reading that I had to point out the kids' section on the menu. I am also thinking how this mandatory reading is not helping move things along, but, being a conscientious student, she dutifully reads every night.

After I finished and tucked in the three youngers, I did two more sections from Hilchot Teshuva with 11 yo. That was the only schoolwork that we did today.

It is 9:30. 11 yo is still up. I packed lunches. I am defrosting chicken for erev yom kippur and for kids to eat on Yom Kippur.

I just want to go and kick back with a book. But most of all, I want to arrive at the nighttime not mindlessly tired.

second day of (home)school

11 yo davened at home. I had to drop off 2 yo and get an oil change. We agreed that he will complete a certain amount of school work on his own and he was all done by the time I came back. He did three pages of Chayeinu workbook and read over the next mitzvah in Yahadus. Meanwhile, I'm slowly plowing through Rabbi Rietti's One Minute Masmid. I am very inspired since for the first time in a long time, I feel that there is an approach that I can use both in my own learning and in helping 11yo. The basic is that you start with Tanach, then Taryag, then Mishna, then Gemara, cover a lot of ground to build up the breadth and to feel progress and review like crazy. Since we are doing Yahadus at 11 yo's request, it leads naturally both to looking mitzvot up in Chmuash, reviewing Taryag and learning halachot. Today, when I got home, I asked him to find a high lighter and go back into Chmuash to highlight parts of the pesukim where the mitzvot are found. They are quoted right in Yahadus, so it was a beatiful exercise to see where Rambam pulled each mitzvah from. I also got a review in and even some Hebrew reading. 11 yo asked me whether Daddy will approve of his marking up Chmuash. I said that it is for purpose of learning, so it is OK.

I had grand plans for doing one more mitzvah, reading one perek of Navi a day with him, reading one Aliyah of Parsha, but for now, I will have to sit tight and see how all this goes. I told 11 yo to take a piece of graph paper and mark up a shape encompassing 613 squares. That sent us on a half an hour hunt for the ruler. We never fully unpacked homeschooling supplies since our move. I was also thinking how disorganized space reflects disorganized mind... but I have totally given up on that. I just don't go into the basement, don't deal with those boxed up hopes and dreams. I also cannot keep up.

So once the ruler was located, drawing this shape proved to be an estimating challenge with a small dose of math. 11 yo wanted to use extra 13 squares to make a person shape. I just watched. I can be very patient with one kid. Then, when he got the shape to his satisfaction. I told him to color in the squares equal to a number of mitzvot we high lighted. I want to give him a visual of our progress, in hopes to both address his anxiety about learning Judaics and to encourage him with tangible progress.

As an aside, he looked up the very last word in the Torah, noticed how some pesukim already contain more than one mitzvah and noticed how Rambam used the pasuk about not testing G-d to mean not to test Navi too much.

I went over his Chayeinu pages. I located abandoned Lashon HaTorah.

We had lunch. We tried going biking, but the bike rental rack would not allow me to get into the system today. 11 yo tried out dirt bike trails. We saw deer. He got exhausted after less than an hour. He also remarked how the day is going well. I asked him how he knows and he said, I'm not throwing fits.

When we got home, I did Hebrew Duolingo. I tested out of a whole bunch of levels, so now I am swimming in a sea of new words that I supposedly know. He watched me. I would like him to try his hand at it, but not now, when he feels confident or curious enough.

He did Khan academy math. I don't know what he knows, so it is nice that they are catching the holes and giving him a chance to practice both lower and higher level skills. He placed himself in 7th grade even though technically he's in sixth. He did grammar and some coding too. I caught him pausing the explanatory coding video and taking notes because he knew from previous experiences that they will expect him to use those commands.

taking notes on coding

Finally, he had his first tennis lesson at the JCC around the corner. 13 yo and 7 yo also started on swim lessons yesterday. I dropped them off and ran into the issue that the coach would not let my oldest walk back on his own. I had to drive back to pick them up all the while thinking how we complain about spoiled rotten millenials. 13 yo is allowed to use the pool on his own according to JCC rules. Why is he not allowed to walk back home? The coach said that he just needed to hear my agreement before letting them walk. So today with tennis, I found 11 yo's coach and clearly told him that I am allowing my son to walk over and back on his own. Coach's first words: "Does he know the way?" We live around the corner, literally. The child is 11. What is this world coming to? Who is not allowing for independence and responsibility?

Today was overall a good homeschooling day, even though all the crazy from the rest of the kids ended up being concentrated into a few evening hours.

P.S. I have so many photos of just kids' backs. It just hit me today that all those photos mean that I do not stop my kids in their tracks with my presence, but I get to see the path that they are on.

First day of something

This school year has officially started. I have four kids that went off to school this morning: 13 yo to 8th grade, 7 yo to 2nd, 4 yo to preK and 2 yo to preschool. The preschool is different from the school where the other kids go because then it would be too simple. 11 yo is at home. "Mommy, now I know what school is like. I've experienced it. I think I will throw fewer fits now because it is not an idle threat." Yeah, exactly the perspective I wanted you to take on the school system, son.

So here are the obligatory pictures. Notice how 7 yo is the only one who made a sign for her grade:

7yo, 4 yo and 13 yo are all in the same school

"Bunny ears mean love"

2 yo

11 yo doing research on camera obscura for the upcoming eclipse

11 yo is off to play Dungeons and Dragons with homeschool friends. He had one session so far and he loved it. I asked him what does it teach him and he said, decision making. I'll take that. (It also teaches him that not everyone is out there to bully you).

And I'm off to glorious few hours of having no kids in the house. It had not happened since May. Every single activity was done by me. Every pool time, every outing, every park time, zoo, museum, ice cream trip... Yes, I can do those things. Yes, I can turn on a dime and give my kids the gift of summer. Yes, I can even do most of those things with a smile on my face and without losing my temper. But I cannot temper my resentment over being the only major presence in my children's lives. I cannot simmer down that if I don't do something for them, nobody else will. I am upset at the death of the village.

That is why those SEED boys were such a ray of sunshine. Somebody will learn with my boys! Somebody will talk to them about what they want! They even took them bowling and to Six Flags (I had to do the driving, but they took them on the roller coasters).

And that is why I am just swimming in the sudden quiet. It will be gone soon enough because Dungeons and Dragons is not every week, because 11 yo will be home with me and he did not become a mellow presence overnight. I am just enjoying a sudden rush of freedom from being always on guard for someone else's needs.

The plan for next year

I know it's the end of May. I know that most people have decided long ago what they will be doing with their kids the following school year. But that is not how we roll. We roll with agony, with false starts, with negotiations, with doubts. As of Friday, I finally know what we are doing.

Call it hashgacha pratit, call it prayer, call it coincidence, but a spot opened up for my 2 yo at the same school that my oldest is attending. We did not even apply, let alone get on the waiting list. We just spoke to the financial office to see what it would cost us to enroll all four children in one school. We got our answer, but then there was no spot for her because we started the conversation so late. So we did not even apply. I spoke to the director of their current preschool about next year and was told that since 4 yo will be in pre-K, it would have to be five days a week program, less he misses something important in his preparation for kindergarten, Insert giant eye roll here from an unschooly mom. Then we got into the financial side and for some reason, even though I had all the papers ready to sign, the same financial organization was not sharing our file with the preschool. It dragged on for almost two weeks till I got an unexpected phone call that they are expanding 2 yo class at the other school, the same financial package as before, are we committing? One school, one calendar, one schedule for pick up and drop off, one location? Are you kidding: we are committing. And this commitment gave me just the right push to decide that 11 yo, my second son, will be homeschooled next year.

He had an OK year at school. He adjusted to the schedule, the workload, the homework. But he did not adjust to bullying that was taking place and that both he and I tried to address with the administration. He was utterly lost in gemara because that's what happens when you take a child who is still struggling to read Hebrew, throw him with condescending boys who had a few years of gemara (8th graders), switch a rebbe in the middle of the year and give him tests where he aces one and fails the next. "I hate gemara." Brilliant, just what I wanted the school to do to you and your approach to learning.

I have taken him to yet another psychologist and we collected yet another diagnosis and another set of suggested accommodations. Funny how they all sounded like what I did back in the day when I homeschooled him: no time pressured work, minimize written output, don't make him write long answers where a short one would suffice, offer typing or voice dictation instead of writing, keep environment distraction-free and quiet, give him extra time on tasks and tests... I wanted to meet with the principal and discuss the accommodations, but he was more interested in getting us to sign the tuition contract. Then he was more interested in discussing his standardized scores. My child who has anxiety had to take three MAP tests this year just so they would confirm what I already knew from IOWAs: he reads and comprehends on a high school level and is a level ahead in math. The principal was arguing that this shows how the school is helping him flourish. I was thinking of the same child cowering in the kitchen corner that morning, fully dressed in his uniform, crying how he does not like school... He has been begging to go back to homeschooling the whole year but I was not sure whether I have it in me.

Thank you, G-d, for everything turning out just as it should. Apparently, coming full circle is putting my typical kids into school and keeping my different child at home. Now please just give me strength, passion, and patience to pull this off and to keep on meeting his needs.

The post that I was not supposed to write.

Normal people who blog, blog semi-regularly. They stick to a subject. The work on building an audience and then maintain it by giving over what the audience expects to hear. I have kept my blog as a sort of open journal. The name, "Breathing Space," was supposed to reflect the nature of this blog.

I started blogging five years ago, almost to a day, when I pulled my oldest from day school to homeschool him. I had a sense that many were curious what homeschooling was like, and I needed a place to share, process ideas, look back, get support. Over the years, things have changed and shifted around. Two more kids joined the family. I chose to get my second-oldest evaluated for learning issues. We have moved. I have tried getting various children into various school settings. But I felt that my core philosophy stayed the same.

Now I am at a whole new beginning. We have moved two months ago. I had 10 yo enrolled in a Chabad school. He is doing reasonably well. I have gotten a break from his intense and sometimes unpleasant personality. But I have also seriously burned out. I was tired from butting heads with 12 yo over getting schoolwork done and finding a good fit for his Judaic needs. I was not expecting the resistance that 7 yo (she just had a birthday) put up about her school work. My baby is a super spirited child, very active and very troublesome. I nicknamed her "baby terrorist" because destruction is on her mind. She wants to climb. She wants to be taken places. She does not want car seat or the stroller or the shopping cart. She wants to imitate older siblings but make tremendous mess at the same time. I found myself wishing that she would just go down for a nap so I can get a break. (Anyone who says that labeling is disabling can spend a day with her.)

I have enrolled 12 yo and 7 yo in two different schools. Both started at the beginning of the month. It has been smooth for 7 yo, since she rejoined her classmates from last year and she gets to see her older brother around. It has not been that smooth for 12 yo. He is in a different school from his siblings because he would end up in the same classroom as his brother. His academics are totally fine. I will give myself a little pat on the back: he is above and beyond his peers in Judaics, to the point that the school suggested he take high school classes next year. This has less to do with skills and more with depth and breadth of his knowledge. He is also advanced in Ivrit: apparently, all you need is a child who is motivated enough to finish Rosetta Stone and a few well-spaced freak-outs when you read over children's Hebrew books. His major issue is following directions and not sticking out. I silently cracked up when the teachers mentioned that he seems to make himself out to be different: what do you expect after many years of hanging out with people who value doing your own thing over conformity?

I had three kids placed in school. yet I was still not breathing. The unhappiness and the sheer lunacy stayed. So I went against my core parental beliefs and enrolled the two youngest ones in preschool. I toyed with sending just one of them, or sending just two or three mornings per week, but then I realized that what I craved was order and predictability. I needed to know that every day, these few morning hours are mine. I have been neglecting myself. I have not been scheduling those annual check-ups because childcare was iffy. I have not been blogging because the stress level was through the roof. I have not been walking because EVERY SINGLE TIME some child or other was sobbing how he/she didn't want to go. I have not been exercising, or going to yoga right around the corner, or even saying morning brachos with any intent. As far as mindfulness went, I scarily kept on noticing myself approaching shabbos week after week and not being able to recall how the week went.

All of this is a lot of changes. All of this is radical. I have been flustered by yet another form asking my occupation: I cannot put down homeschool educator because there is nobody that I am homeschooling. I adamantly refuse to put down homemaker or housewife. So who am I?

As I've been driving carpool, I have been catching myself doing open mouth vocalizations. I learned about them from natural childbirth books. It's a primal release of energy. Whatever I will be doing from this point on reminds me of giving birth: it is lonely, it is painful and scary, you do not know what the result will look like, and there is no going back to the previous state.

If you have been following me for homeschooling, sorry to disappoint you: you cannot do it all, You cannot do it well. Everything has a beginning and an end. This journey, in its current form, is over. I still view homeschooling as an ideal learning environment, but I do not envision myself homeschooling more than one at a time.

dreaming

OMG what is that? My baby has been napping for the past hour and the older kids were entertaining themselves (except for one tushie that needed to be wiped). I was not rushing to do chumash with 12 year old, I was not hustling anyone to do schoolwork or finish something or other that is hard to do with an active toddler. (The chicken in Moana is clearly modelled after a toddler: same freak outs, same ridiculous repetitive behaviors.) And all of sudden I find myself finally calling a handyman to install the blinds before too many neighbors diplomatically suggest that we do it for our own good. And I'm making lasagna noodle roll-ups with tuna and spinach, using up leftovers. And I'm getting on IKEA home planner to figure out how to fit in a few more kitchen cabinets while thinking that maybe I should look into design or architecture classes. Is there a market for 40-year-old architects? And I finally threaded the washed 3 year old's car seat after a too-close encounter with raspberry jelly. The wipes did not cut it, so it had to be washed. Pesach came early, and I did it. And I'm thinking what else can I do with the kids around their 3 pm dentist appointment: drop off DVDs at the library because there is a branch not far from the office, stop by Aldi, run to IKEA to replace a vital screw that $%#$& movers did not put into the bunk bed? I did not realize that 10 yo telling me about his fear of the whole thing crashing down was not based on overreaction, but on solid engineering reality that a certain amount of supports is needed for the top bunk.

And I finished two books this past week: "Hillbilly Elegy" and "Run" by Ann Patchett. I cannot recall what was the last impactful book that I read before these two.

My time is slowly coming back to me. My time can also be snatched at any minute by a baby awakening from her nap, spilling pasta all over the floor, dumping cups of water, just screaming to be held. My time is also carved from the hours previously spent homeschooling. There is a misconception that unschooling means not doing anything with the kids, so why are the moms complaining that they are so busy? However, when you unschool, you are still in the picture, still available to answer questions, help with projects, do research, drop everything to read, etc. I am not currently unschooling. I am letting the older kids marinate in their own juices while I go and do my own thing. It is not clear-cut, as 10 yo, after this morning marinade, came to inform me that he and his two older siblings are about to produce Illiad , but a Wild West version. Ok, kids, I can write this down as an educational activity. I can boast about it: hey, my kids know enough about both to synthesize their own mashup. But I cannot call it unschooling, as I am refusing to participate more than a spectator.

Am I too high-strung to even unschool? Am I too controlling? Too worried about the outcome? Do I have too few resources, too few other adults who can spell me for a bit as the adult on duty? I don't know if I failed my kids by sending them to school, failed the ideals of homeschooling, failed myself. I do know that we, as a family, are ready for a new chapter. 12 yo is starting in a week and he is eager to have friends, hang out with friends, do things with friends, be in a class with friends. 10 yo came to terms with his new school reality. 6 yo is happy to have her girls back. And I am grateful for renewed energy and renewed ability to dream. I do wish so badly that my dreams involved homeschooling, spend long intense periods of time with the people that I birthed, educating them, learning alongside them. Right now, that is my fantasy. Right now, I need my space. I wish I did not have to carve time out for myself. I wish there would not be implied violence to time, but a peaceful flow.

not following the rules

I've sent my baby girl to school. (I have been working on a blog post about sending kids to school, but it does not seem to get materialized). She has been going for a week. This is my six-year-old, my ideal homeschool candidate, the child whom I've been dreaming about homeschooling because she was easy, eager to learn, eager to please. There was just one big hole in my plan: she wanted to be with other girls her age more than anything else. And she had this perfect dream about school. So I've sent her.

Since sending her, I have been driving her and her brother every morning and picking them up every afternoon. It is December, so most other parents have worked out their carpool routine months ago. First I had 10 year old in one carpool, then, when we moved, a friend found another parent who drove for me. But she only had one spot, so with two kids in school, all of a sudden I had to be driving. But I still have two small ones at home, two kids who take naps and do not need to wake up at 6 am to do this drop-off and pick up.

On Friday, I asked 10 year old time and again what time is early dismissal and he confidently assured me that it is at 2:30. I got a phone call while I was driving at 2:15 that the dismissal was at 2 and the teachers need to get home to get ready for shabbos. I felt horrible and very embarrassed. I even offered for my kids to sit on the bench in front of the school, as I was on my way, but I could not make traffic move any faster. Today, Monday morning, I hustled and hustled everyone to get out the door at 7:20 so I would have plenty of time to drop off 10 yo at shul for his minyan with the classmates and then get 6 yo to her school. I ended up dropping off 10 yo at 7:45. It was freezing. I told him to go inside, not stay in the cold for 15 minutes. Then I drove my daughter. I got her to school at 7:54 and hustled her out the car. As I watched her walk to school, alone, I sighed about this little first grader. Then she pulled on the door. Locked. She banged. Locked. Teachers were walking inside, bustling, getting ready. I saw them. She saw them. She pulled and banged. And I remembered an e-mail from months ago asking parents not to drop off kids before 8, as the teachers needed to get ready for their day. I sort of ignored it at the time, as I was not the one driving in the morning. So there we were, my little kid standing in the cold, knocking, and adults whom she was supposed to be trusting, asserting their rights to five minutes of quiet before the kids entered. I realized that other parents sat in their cars in the parking lot, keeping their kids warm. I just did not notice it before, being so excited to get her somewhere on time and even early. (Till fairly recently, she did not know the definition of early, as were always late).

And then the tears came. Homeschooling was not going smoothly for her because I do not have a gaggle of girls her age up my sleeve. She was not reading and I had little time to read to her. We were butting heads. It was easier to send her to school. But now I have a kid who has to get up and get dressed and have breakfast and put up her hair and run to the car in the morning to be left in the cold banging on the doors of her school. She is a fairly early riser, but she likes to chill, lounge in her pajamas, snuggle on the couch, have a good morning story. She likes to have her breakfast late. I traded one set of things that are not working for another.

I am not blaming the school for their policy. I am blaming myself for not remembering what that policy was. With so many kids doing so many different things, it is very hard to remember every single detail. It was easier to keep them at home, minimize those external rules and regulations to abide by, but it was not working. So now we will be "those" parents", the ones who are chronically late, and chronically bending the rules.

not good enough

I'm taking my kids to the zoo
Because it is finally sunny
Because tomorrow is a school tryout day
Because soon I will no longer be homeschooling.

We are going there quickly
Spontaneously
So that we will all properly miss this time
Of freedom to get up and go.

As I tug on jackets
And pack up snacks
Ignoring academics
And Torah learning

The words of my upbringing
Pound through my head
Like train wheels:

Not good enough not good enough not good enough

I am tired

My G-d, I'm tired.

So, so essentially, weary in my bones .

My soul is tired. My whole being is tired.

We've moved into the neighborhood that we did not consider initially because it would require a long commute to the dayschool and my husband did not want me to have to drive the kids, so he chose to commute to his hospital instead. We moved into the other neighborhood to "fit in", be like everybody else, send our child to the most acceptable school, get him friends. We all know how well that turned out: we did not fit in. The friends that my son made (and that we made) either moved to other places or made aliyah. I chose to homeschool because once the social aspect was not there, the academics and intellectual stimulation were not there as a given. And once we were pegged as "different", we did not have much to lose by homeschooling anyway.

But that was a long time ago, before many job switches by my husband, before two more babies, before realizing that my second child is not outgrowing his fits, before drowning in noise and mess, before understanding that homeschooling is a lonely business. I thought my immediate family will rally, once they see what wonderful schedule we have, what the boys achieve, which opportunities open up to us. Flatly, I did not get that. There are no bumper stickers with "student of the month" in homeschool, nor are there tangible report cards, shiny trophies and diplomas. You don't hang "my children fight less than expected" on a wall. The grandparents are less than enthusiastic about my efforts. I thought what they thoguht would not matter to me, but it does.

And then there were those two babies. That means that the past four years have been consumed by nursing and naps and whining and meeting the needs of small people. My personal dreams became the size of pinpricks, and once they were so small, it was easy to lose them altogether. Not only my dreams were gone, but so were the dreams of my older kids. There is nobody to take them to a movie, a baseball game, an outdoor rope course except for the parents. But the parents are juggling small people and jobs and naps and height restrictions and financial costs of so many mouths to feed.

There is shabbos, relentlessly coming every week and every week I need to come up with a plan to make it. There is yom tov and dread that it brings: I never measure up to some standard of happiness and contentment that is blaring from all the lovely children's books. "Levivot kol ima tachin" Every mother makes latkes. That line from a Chanukah song used to bring tears to my eyes, as I resolved to make latkes, knowing that it is undertaking too much, and then I would be stressed and baby would be underfoot and dirty food processor would be in the sink as I would be yelling like crazy for kids to stay away from the hot oil...

There is my husband's call schedule. There are those phone calls that require him to drop everything and go save a life.

I tried. I tried doing it all: be a good mother, be involved, be a homemaker, be a teacher, eat healthy, provide learning opportunities, respect children's needs, be nice to grandparents. I tried nursing. I tried making my own baby food. I tried baking bread. I tried online course in graphics for my mental stimulation. I tried online school for 12 yo so he has peers and a rebbe. I tried engaging him in chumash. I tried buying lots of seforim and art supplies and strewing them around. I tried seeking out classes for kids: at the library, the zoo, through homeschool networks, through word of mouth.

I tried a lot.

I tried suppressing my introvert tendencies and staying calm amidst a very loud and hectic household. I tried being present for all of my kids, finding a way to connect with each one when I much rather go and seek quiet.

Somewhere along this path, my whole essence was broken. This is not the first time that it happened. The first time was when I was being treated for Hep C and the medications changed not only my personality and brain, but my whole approach to life. But that was external, and it was a matter of survival, and there were no other options. This time, I did not have to take the hard path. This time, it was not a matter of life and death. I chose to do things the hard way. I chose to educate the children at home.

All that I know is that I am very tired.

Gemara for 12 yo

After a lot of hand-wringing, phone calls, e-mails and just things falling all over the place. I signed up 12 yo for online school for Judaics. He is in 7th grade, where he is supposed to be age-wise. He specifically asked for learning with other kids as opposed to one-on-one, but he did not want to go to school. The program is four days a week for two hours each day, and it is fully interactive: he gets to see the teacher and other students, learn bechavruta, ask and answer questions in real time, get assignments and chat with others. The catch is that it is from 11 to 1, smack dab in the middle of the day.

Here is the funny part: the administration originally did not want him in this class because he had no formal gemara learning. First I agreed with them, then we realized that the other level is too low for him, so I insisted that he attend this class with his peers. In the back of my mind was an ongoing buzz of what am I going to do with a child who will be handicapped by a lack of gemara skills? Will this approach of not pushing and introducing gemara haunt us? Now in his class, during the second week I got an email from the teacher that he is planning on having my son and his chavruta do a separate assignment since his gemara skills are on a higher level than the rest of the class. I giggled: how can a child who spent maybe six hours formally studying gemara have more advanced skills than the boys who have been studying it for the past two years? Perhaps all the hours he spent poring over Koren Bavli in shul paid off. Perhaps he is naturally brilliant. Perhaps he can pull a fast one on the teacher.

Perhaps our laid-back approach (not quite unschooling) is not so full of glaring educational holes.

Just what he needed

Do you know who's thriving at home so far? My three-year-old. He potty trained and having a potty available to use as necessary is what did it. He naps as he needs, just goes and tucks himself in and then comes out when he's awake and ready to come out. He spent close to an hour every day painting with watercolor. I just need to get him water and close the door to the sunroom. He has been painting sheet after sheet, mixing colors, using different brushes, making up stories about his creations. Then he cuts them up, tapes them, modifies them further.

He has been playing with Cliks: building swords and guns of all kinds, imagining things, creating whole worlds. He is all about weapons and shooting and fighting, yet he's extremely mellow to his younger sister. This is a healthy release of aggression.

He made a cockroach

He has been playing with his older sister non-stop. I often end up breaking up their play to get her to do her schoolwork. He sidles up with his Costco book, and he does his "math"; he just circles what he likes on every page. He recognizes a few letters. Last year in Montessori he supposedly knew him all. Now I can see that not everything has stuck, but it's ok, because he is only three and I want him to think that what he's doing right now, all this painting and building, is what's important.

We've been to the zoo and aquarium and he loves the ocean pop-up book. He keeps asking to go back. He wants to go to the park or hike trails. He often tramps around outside our large yard, digging in the dirt, finding bugs and other treasures. He rides his trike down the path full speed.

At the zoo

Childhood is short. Childhood can also be easy and not require much. I forgot how much I love this stage, when they are old enough to talk and say the darnest things (Mommy, can I help you make coffee cause I Love you). They are still little, but they can already do things for themselves. They do not have an attitude yet, but the personality is there. I am pleased to have this child back at home with me.

An update

We were supposed to move, to a bigger house, in another neighborhood. I spent most of the summer packing, decluttering, and dealing with all the things that come with buying a house. I even spent energy on those hypothetical closets, convincing myself that it will he painful for a bit, and then there will be order.

The house sale fell through, but not early enough to realize that this is not happening. Some paperwork was required at the last minute, and that paperwork was something that we could not produce, no matter how much we pushed, begged and pleaded. Maybe I will write up one day what happens when a doctor gets a frivolous lawsuit and how little it matters who is right. Maybe I will write how some things have nothing to do with prudence and planning and saving. It is ironic that the house prices are so ridiculously inflated that it is impossible to buy a house without financing, no matter how carefully you save. The bottom line was, the same week that we were supposed to move, and all extensions were filed and not even exactly accepted, it became clear that this house is not going to be ours.

That left me in a very bad pickle: I have packed up all the books and most of the homeschool materials. I have taken all the posters off the walls. I was also planning on being near JCC and rely on their homeschool, afterschool, and adult classes for enrichment. We were supposed to be near a community college with its own course offerings. I gingerly checked out homeschool resources near the new location, but I definitely did not sign up for any classes where we live.

3yo made a fire-shooting tail for his dragon.
He is happy as long as he can find scissors, tape and paper

Those who were following this blog know that I also signed up 10 yo for school. First I put him on the bus so I would not have to drive him, then I told the school to take him off since there is no bus from the new location, then I had to beg them to please put him back on the bus since we did not move after all... At least his school bought all the school supplies through PTA and I was not stuck hunting all over town for perfect folders and exact markers. So far, he probably has a more put-together life than we do here.

MIT open course video that 12 y dug up

Since he already started school, I chose to start with 12 yo, 6 yo and 3 yo. But all of my materials are still packed up. And we still might be moving: our house did not grow more space just because the move fell through. The kitchen did not expand, the bedrooms were not added, more children did not move on our block... in short, all the reasons to move are still valid. So I started with whichever resources I happened to have on hand. I'm quickly discovering that if I let 12 yo have a lot of computer time, he will cobble something together. The problem is, without his brother to drag him out to the trampoline, and without classes set up, and without friends popping by, he will not see humans for days. He will not call for a play date (but my 6 yo daughter will!) So do I let this child stay at home and do his own stereotypically nerdy antisocial thing mostly on the computer, or do I set limits, boundaries, force him to go on outings that delight his younger siblings, all in hope of getting him out of the house?

I am also guilty of using him as a babysitter. I do it a lot: he does not want to go to the grocery store, but he will watch the rest of the kids, for example. Often I just want to run an errand by myself, and with all the stress of this "almost move", my need to be by myself is higher than usual. And he is so conveniently at home, and willing to stay at home. I am very conflicted about this. Is it a right thing to do to a 12 yo?

Since all the books are packed up, and I begged boys not to renew their library cards and confirm the addresses till after the move, we have a general lack of reading material. Everyone is listless. 6 yo wants a plan, and all my hopes, dreams, and plans got flushed away, so I swat her inquiries because, frankly, I want a plan, too.

Art supplies are for dumping

Don't forget the baby. She is a firecracker. She screeches on top of her lungs and gets 3 yo involved in yelling competitions. She is not walking (we are starting physical therapy which I need right now like a hole in my head). She is climbing instead, pulling herself up onto the couch and the chairs and the bay window. Then she launches herself down, body-slamming into the cushions. I worry that she will crack her head open. 10 yo worries with me, to the point that he cannot sit still and eat if she's on the couch. It's a good thing that he is in school most of the day, missing her antics. She crawls across our laps as I try to read to 6 yo and 3 yo. She pulls the books out of our hands and has been pulling 3 yo's hair. Thank G-d he's a mellow sweet child, who had not smacked her back. She destroys his puzzle, she dumps the crayons and the drawers full of clothes. When she had her fill of destruction, she heads over to me to be picked up. Then she wants to be carried either by me or by one of the kids. The baby is cute, but she is not easy, and she does not make any of our lives easy either.

12 yo helps make armor.

We have started homeschooling, but I have no idea where this year will take us. I know everyone loves the first day of school pictures, with their promise of new beginnings and order. I bring to you the messy reality. I also hope that those homeschoolers who have not started yet and dread seeing yet another post about organized resources will not feel so bad about hot having it all together.

First day of school.
Typical uniforms.
The boys laughed when they realized what they were wearing.

Self-care and support advice: helpful or harmful?

I'm reading another self-help book, this one on marriage (First, Kill All the Marriage Counselors). In case you're wondering, the title intrigued me. I am not done, but the content makes me wonder because I have heard this before.

The author starts by saying that in order to save an ailing marriage, self-care is important and so is a strong circle of supportive females.

Oh yeah, all those homeschool pages say the same. When you are running ragged, when you don't know where to turn to advice, just go take a break, focus on yourself, and spend some time talking to like-minded friends.

Oh, and the same goes for motherhood and parenting. When the kids get to you, when running a household and simultaneously taking care of everyone's needs feels stressful, give yourself some pampering and go dish it out with other moms in the same boat.

Before I go further, I have given out the same advice myself. "I said and said and said those words, I said them--but I lied them."

What if this is classic chicken-and-egg situation? What if we are trying to solve various problems with the same solutions when, in reality, the lack of accessibility of these solutions is what's causing these problems in the first place?

Imagine yourself well-rested on a day when you selected what you wanted to do for yourself and did it. Most likely, you would be more pleasant to your spouse and his little quirks and annoyances would not be so annoying. Most likely you would be teeming with ideas for your homeschool. Most likely you would be eager to see your kids, hug them, spend some time with them.

Imagine having a community of women who are there to catch you, watch your kids, spell you for a bit while you run to the store or the doctor, and converse when you need it. They give you valuable advice that sets you straight in all your family relationships because they see you and your family day in and day out, and they truly, really have your best interest at heart. You would feel able to handle any ripples that rock your boat because they are there to catch you.

What if the most important part missing from all this advice is the fact that so many wives/mothers have neither the ability to arrange large chunks of their life according to what's good for them nor this female group of tight-knit friends? What if this is the true reason for high divorce rate, homeschool burnout, and parenting failure?

Maybe I am the only one who has a hard time arranging for self-care that I truly need rather than measly bits that are available. For example, I can stereotypically paint my own nails at home and call it self-care, but what I truly enjoy is a professional massage. I can take a quick walk around the block, but I really crave a couple hours of hiking through the woods. Being told that I just need to make myself a priority when nobody else is jumping in to pick up slack does not miraculously produce time and resources. It just makes me feel even worse. And that gets to this support network business. I am an introvert. We have moved a lot and I am in a city far away both from my high school and college friends. I am far away from friends that I made when we got married. I am far away from friends that I made in two years in Houston. It takes me a long time to warm up to people, and I am at an age when one does not instantly make best friends and confidantes, no matter how bubbly and outgoing a personality. So where am I supposed to dig up this circle of support? On the basic level, who will watch my kids in minor emergencies, but on a deeper level, whom can I confide with my bigger problems? (I am about to do it on a blog for the whole anonymous world to see, which might be introvert's only solution...)

I am not about to bemoan the entire disintegration of society because it appears that many have this all blissfully worked out. Maybe they have supportive family and friends and never moved from their place of origin. Maybe they have other arrangements. Yet, considering the amount of my friends who are on the move, who move into new communities, new cities, new countries, it cannot be that I am the only struggling to figure out how this helpful advice on self-care and support networks is not causing more pain than it was meant to resolve.

Desiring more and happiness

איזהו אשיר? השמח בחלכו

Who is rich? The one who is happy with his lot. (פרקי אבות ד א )

We usually take this to mean material possessions: the one who appreciates all the stuff that he has is content. Overall, the one who is satisfied with his lot in life, who can appreciate all the good things that have happened to him, is happy. But what if your lot in life is to yearn for more? What if you are always challenging status quo? What if it's not about material possessions at all, but about wanting to acquire more knowledge, so you always want another class? What if you want even closer relationship with your spouse and children? What if you want to be more than what you currently are?

I just had a funny experience with the contractors working on the house that we are (hopefully) moving into. The closets are not finished yet, so they told me that they have a certain budget and can customize within that budget. Alternatively, I can go and get my own closet components and they will install them. I was offered a long closet shelf and a rod running the full length of every closet in the house, including a ridiculously long walk-in master closet. I stepped back, saying that we do not have nearly enough clothes to warrant such a long hanging system. The contractor countered that I can go to Home Depot and pick up the closet system that they have and they will happily install it. Their idea of a happy customer was someone who took stock of the large space they offered for clothes storage and then went and bought enough storage implements for all the clothes. I started thinking and asking whether a rod can be installed only in one-half of the closet space and the rest can eventually be lobbed off into master bedroom. I was envisioning a crafting space, a place for a desk where I can type, spread art supplies without kids messing with them, go back to watercolor and acrylics, set up the sewing machine. The contractor raised his hands up in protest: Please do not move any more walls, we will not finish this house in time. The agent piped in about resale value of a giant master closet. I thought how having this huge wasted space without air conditioning or windows and using it for storage of stuff because in the future somebody will covet it is stupid.

This is bringing into sharp focus how my "wanting more" is not the same as most people's "wanting more". I would like to use certain material possessions and advantages to achieve space, time and product. I have noted to my husband how my homeschool friends and acquaintances are more interesting and outspoken than the regular school parents. Perhaps the common denominator is the desire for change, the lot of wanting more. I pulled my oldest out of school because I wanted to give him more than the school was offering. I wanted to give him the gift of free time. I wanted to give him the ability to choose his own reading material and engage deeply with the content. I wanted him to figure out what interests him and pursue it. I wanted him to have an opportunity to read Chumash and Gemara as one reads a novel: out of his own free will, at his pace, and his comfort level. I wanted my family not to be stuck in the same old race of waking everyone up early and rushing everyone out the door because things have to be done (work, school, extracurriculars, grocery shopping). I really wanted more for my family.

Where does all this leave me vis-a-vis the Mishna? Am I unhappy because I want more? Or is wanting more that is not material possessions an essential human drive and not included in the text of the Mishna?

I am dreading having to go to the store and look at all these closet systems that I did not even know existed and then having to choose which one goes where. I cannot convince myself that it is like going to the dentist: painful, but necessary and it is better to just quickly get it over with.