The Saturday before the kids and I packed up and left Augusta, GA I made a quick run out to the local Farmer’s Market to find a jar of something to bring with us. I wanted something local that would, in a mouthful, embody the South.
Something I could pull out months later at our Thanksgiving Day table in our new home in the North and remember.
That jar of canned Okra is sitting on the table beside me right now, having been boxed up and promptly misplaced in the chaos of moving and a massive home renovation.
That would summarize the last many months for me – good intentions not fully unfolding. Plans gone awry. Plans put on hold.
Moving + home renovations + new making new friends + learning new places + missing old friends is actually monumentally more challenging than this adventure loving soul ever anticipated.
It has been a very long time since I sat down simply to write and I am not certain where to begin to unfold our homeschool journey over the last many months since we moved.
I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, and have had no outlet to mull them over with friends late on Tuesday nights after Bible study, or over dinner on Wednesday nights, or while the kids climb trees while us moms pretend we aren’t concerned they’ll fall twenty feet to their demise, or – my favorite – over coffee. Right now that feels like a luxurious treat to enjoy coffee with a friend.
All that to say: I’m not sure how all this will come out, but I am going to attempt to unravel these thoughts that have been sitting in my mind.
I’ve had well educated friends tell me they struggle with learning post University because they were raised with the idea that learning was to result in a degree. Once the degree was accomplished, they felt educated.
I find that fascinating because I never went to college and I very much feel like I need to spend the rest of my life learning what I assume the rest of the world knows.
I don’t think either is necessarily correct or healthy.
One can’t put themself in a box labeled “educated” and be done growing.
And one can’t always feel behind and be motivated because of a sense of lack.
Over these past many months I have seen in myself many lacks when it comes to being the educator of my children.
And while I don’t want to leave them with huge voids, as they’ve gotten older I have seen more of the areas I have failed them and I have grappled with the fact that as their primary educator I actually will fail them.
They are very likely to walk into whatever their season after homeschooling is and think; “Wow! Mom did not prepare me for this!”
But it’s built a resolve in me of something I have always felt strongly about: I want my children to love learning, to maintain a wonder for life, and to feel like they are capable of learning what it is they need to know.
I think often of that little boy who told me he wasn’t smart because he couldn’t count to 100 yet.
We get trapped in that bubble, don’t we? We can only count to 30, and rather than seeing that as an accomplishment and letting it be the boost to help us reach further, we see what we can’t yet do and let the discouragement of that hinder our growth.
In January Paul had an intense two week course he had to take, and in anticipation of it he encouraged me to take the boys somewhere new so we could have an adventure and explore rather than sit at home in an unfinished home while he was away.
He is a constant source of encouragement towards growth and personal development and I feel ridiculously blessed to be married to a man that selflessly challenges me to grow and develop myself.
So we went to California for twelve days, and probably the pinnacle of adventure on the trip was when we sat and watched Elephant Seals in the wild.
They were amazing to watch and I think I can say it was one of the coolest things I have ever sat and watched in my life.
The boys sat beside me and were awed by the magnificent size of the bulls. The gawking of the mothers. The smoothness (and size!) of the babies.
I could have sat and watched the Elephant Seals all day, and was enjoying the site and that my boys were relishing in the wonder of it all, and then they said “Ok, mom. We are good to go whenever you are.”
And I felt a little ache with the beauty of it all.
You can’t create wonder in another. We can nurture an environment that allows for space for them to wonder but we can’t pick what will make them be in wonder and how long they’ll be in wonder.
The other day I gave the boys a dandelion and burdock soda (not to be confused with the mead it is also known as.)
“Oh!” declared one, “I have always wanted to try this.”
“How did you even know this was a thing?” I asked.
“I read about it in a book.” was his simple reply.
We can spread a feast before them – a wide, abundant feast. We can let them taste the richest of authors, the beauty of composers, poets, and artists, take them to observe the wonders of nature and put in their hands the tools to create beautiful and useful handicrafts.
But we don’t pick what sticks or when.
But – maybe – when the wonder we wish was there isn’t, or the connections we think should be made aren’t being made – maybe – just like that jar of Okra – it is ok to come out at a different time than we anticipated. And it will be just as good and just as wonderful.
Maybe, it’s our expectations and ideas that need to be challenged.
And if I were to sum up what the last many months since the move have been teaching me, it’s that.
