How Time Flies...

It has been six months since I have written anything here...and really, how many people are there actually reading the ramblings I post here? Other than that one guy at my church, who told me three weeks ago that he loves reading my blog...and when I told him that I hadn't posted anything since April, he mentioned that he hasn't actually read my blog since January...you shall remain nameless, to protect your privacy, but you know who you are...

The homeschooling experiement is over. All four children are back in school. Avery and Emma had asked repeatedly over the summer if they could go back to St. Bernard's, because they missed their teachers, the school and their friends. Finally, at the end of August, I caved. I had intended to continue homeschooling the boys, but a few things led to them returning to the hallowed halls of education...the biggest thing was the Constant. Never-ending. Fighting. If they hadn't killed each other by the end of August, I was going to finish the job for them. I had to ask Brian a few times if their behaviour was normal, because I sure never beat the snot out of my younger sisters and brother...for the most part, he assured me that Ian and Jamie were behaving the way most brothers do...which was more than a little disconcerting, let me tell you...

For weeks, I felt as though I had failed somehow...I imagined that people were snickering behind my back and telling each other (and probably random strangers) that they just knew I would never make it work...of course, that was my own paranoia at work and most people probably never gave it a second thought...still, the idea that I had tried something and failed at it stuck in my craw...until I realized that I hadn't actually failed...the kids did do well while they were being homeschooled...they learned stuff, we had a good time (for the most part)...but the fact is, my kids had spent years in the school system and knew what they were missing and wanted to be a part of it again...and, if the truth be known, I realized that while I love my children dearly and would kill and die for them, I need to be apart from them for part of the day.

I know that makes me selfish. I know there are tons of mothers who spend all day with their children and never think twice about the fact that they can't even pee without someone needing something...but I am not one of those mothers. I came to that conclusion around the second week in August when I was on the verge of throwing the children from the second story window (for the record, I did not do it). I realized that after ten years of being "on-call" for my children nearly 24 hours a day, I deserved a wee bit of time each day for myself...

But that realization didn't make me feel any better about myself, and so I chewed on that feeling of failure for a few weeks too...until I came to understand that I am doing the best I can...and if doing my best means letting someone else have my children for a few hours a day, so that I am not a screaming banshee while trying to get them to understand fractions, then so be it...

And so the children were registered back at school and I have spent the last two months running myself ragged with all of the extra "me" time...driving the kids to school and the husband to work, running errands (it's unbelievable how much food these people eat and they haven't even hit their teenage years yet...I'm sure we'll need a second mortgage just to feed the boys alone!), vacuuming, dusting, laundry, more errands, oh Mama, I need this for school today (information given to me around 8 in the morning-about 30 minutes before they walk out the door for school)...most days I'm lucky if I get to sit down for 20 minutes (today being an exception to type this up)...

People have wondered what I spend all day doing, now that I have all this extra time...I'll let you know...soon...right now I have to go get the kids from school...then stop to vote...then come back to help with homework, make dinner, finish folding the clothes...