Holy Hell, I'm Homeschooling...

Let's be honest, we are all homeschooling now!

I knew it would happen one day. I knew I would be a homeschool mom, eventually. I am just enough hippy and just enough warrior that I may be able to pull this off.

When the shit went down in March, I will admit, I lost it. I went full-on doomsday. It took me months to form a nice, cushy, warm denial bubble. This bubble has allowed me to go into stores and not freak out at the apocalyptic feel of my surroundings. I can pretend we are on a sweet staycation, and all is well.

September is creeping up, and now I have to pop my cozy denial bubble and think about Max and how the heck he is going to learn anything this upcoming school year.

He was attending public school. When we suddenly went remote, our school was not prepared. I think I spent more time cursing and crying over the curriculum than I did teaching my child. So when it came to signing up for the 20/21 school year, it was a hard pass.

Plus, there are too many variables. What will be required of them if they enter the school? Masks? No masks? Virtual or non? Will they ever go back to full days? If so, what will they expect of my 7-year-old?

I made the decision one week ago to homeschool, and this week our public school announced they will be going all virtual, leaving some parents to scramble to find options for their children. I am feeling pretty grateful right now.

I won't lie, turning in transfer papers to admit homeschooling did not feel great. I have a crazy lump in my heart just thinking about having full control of my child's learning.

As much as I bitched and moaned about the school system, there was a comfort in having faith that they were doing right by my child. I hoped that when I dropped off Max at those doors, his teachers were spending the whole day molding him into a wonderful individual.

Now, I have to find curriculum, social organizations, babysitters/tutors. It is a lot!

I am now going down the rabbit hole of what curriculum to choose. There are so many. My head is spinning. My neighbor, Michelle, said something to me that helped.

She said, "There are no wrong choices. There may be better out there, but there are no wrong choices."

I keep thinking about that as I look over options. I know I often think I am doing wrong. I am terrified to choose wrong. Will I forever change my child into a dumb bag of rocks? Who knows, time will tell.

As a family, we will choose a curriculum that fits Max's personality and what works best for whoever will be teaching him. God knows it won't be me. I can teach him life. I teach him about laughter, and morals, and etiquette, and nutrition, and how to roll on the floor without getting hurt. I can't teach him math or English. At least, not now.

I started a job right before this pandemonium. I love my job, and I am not quitting for homeschooling. Acknowledging that hurts. As a mom, I have weird mom guilt. Guilt based on sexist beliefs. Sexist beliefs like men work because they have to and women work because they want to. These are not my husband's beliefs. They are not my beliefs, but they creep into my mind.

As a mom, my job is to be the best mom I can be. I know, being a happy mom will make for a happy child. Working makes me happy. I won't apologize for that, and no one is asking me to. I know my boys love that I am happy and respect that my learning and growing makes me a better wife and mother.

So, if that means I have to super organize Max's week so I can keep working, then I will organize all of the things. If it means I work to pay for the cost of childcare that I wouldn't need if I weren't working, so be it. It may not make sense on paper, but it works for our family.

I have ripped off the homeschool bandaid, and now I have to figure this shit out. Many have done it before me. I am not alone. And there are no wrong choices. So, wish me luck and hope to heck I don't raise a bag of rocks.

Happy Homeschooling!

I'm at a loss...

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I'm at a loss

In a pocket of time, you were 10, and I was 15.

In a pocket of time, our parents were in love.

You were the coolest 10-year old I ever met. You would draw your pictures, and adults would secretly glance at each other as if to say, "Jesus, this kid has got something."

I knew from your father's past that your future could have gone one of two ways, and I saw you struggle from afar through the years.

You gained a family of your own, and I watched through instabooks and facegrams, hoping you would find your art.

I suppose you were watching me too. We watched each other grow up. And we both watched your father and my mother relapse again and again. I think this is what bonded us for life.

You finally chose the life that I knew was your strength. You had fire, and you were using it for good. I watched as you gained notoriety for your art. My mother always said you were something special. You are.

You did it, man. You followed your dream.

So why the fuck were you found dead inside your apartment?

I thought you learned from our parent's mistakes. You were at my mother's funeral.

What happened?

I hate that I found out. I wish I could keep the idea of your glowing success as my final thoughts for you. Being a spectator to your life means being sideswiped by devastation when I was so hopeful of your outcome.

This feeling is a disgustingly familiar one. It is a mix of anger and incomprehension, loss of hope and utter sadness, disappointment mixed with joy that I shared a connection with you that was mine, alone.

I thought we made it out together. I thought we beat the odds. I hate the thought that I was wrong.

I will miss you, my brother, my friend.

My COVID19 Manifesto...

Holy hell this is getting crazy! Everyone is doing what they can to get the information they need to survive. I am not offering any advice here. I have no recommendations here. I am merely speaking from the heart.

This has been rough.

It may be my control issues creeping in because every day is a shocking reminder that none of us have ANY control. Control is an illusion.

It may be that I have grown accustomed to my alone time. I love to sit and eat my lunch while watching Golden Girls without a lightsaber battle happening in the living room.

Or... It maybe that I am more extroverted than I thought.

Go figure!

The main issue I have had through this is anger. I am angry. I am pissed for no good reason and I am having a hard time letting it go.

Springtime is growth and also when liver energy comes up. Liver in Chinese medicine is anger, irritation and trouble unwinding.

Yes, Yes and YES!

I know I should be meditating. I should be grounding to nature. I should be enjoying my home and family. I should be grateful.

I know all the things I should do to make myself feel better.

But like a little pissy kid I yell, "BUT I DON'T WANNA!"

We all have our weaknesses. I am not afraid to share them. I have lived through hard times in my life. Harder than this.

So, I know I will get through this. We will all get through this.

Where do I find hope?

• Our bodies are so wise and we can do better.

• Patience with breath.

• We are shaking up our normal. Change is good.

• Slowing down.

• Loving on the humans in front of me (cat included).

• The highest vibrations rise to the top.

• Being ok with not being ok.

• Studying my passion.

• Writing.

So I write...

Writing gives me an outlet for all the unmanageable emotions. Instead of crying for the fourth time in one day, I will bitch and moan within the interwebs and hope that someone out there can relate.

Writing is very cathartic. Under these insane circumstances, I feel I have lost my voice- not as a mother, not as a wife, but as a human on this planet.

What I have written will not be everyone's cup of tea. My creative writing teacher in high school called me a nihilist. I suppose that piece of me is always simmering but I have become more hopeful with age.

Heck, maybe I should stick to recipes, essential oils and zoom call pilates classes.

But, I'm not, so here it goes...

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COVID19 Manifesto

We have essentially been told by our government, "Go to your room!"

As a mother, I realize that this does not come out of nowhere. Ideally, every action leading up to this breaking point was a choice that we, the people, made.

We choose stress, EMF, oil, pesticides, drugs, avoidance, indulgence, fear.

We weaken our immune system. We weaken our will.

So, when we are told to go to our room, we rightfully deserve it.

Remember after 911 how they had color codes for heightened states of terrorism?

Red was a top terror.

Orange was pretty terrifying.

And Yellow was just scary.

For a while, they would give us the color warning.

"Today is an Orange Day. Be aware of your surroundings!"

"Today is a heightened state of awareness - It’s Red!" 

But after a while they were like, "Fuck it! We’re gonna live in Yellow and always be afraid at all times!"

With this virus, I am afraid that is what will become of our future.

A new state of fear. Do we stop hugging? Do we stop shaking hands?

They shut down the world. THE WORLD! What keeps them from doing it again?

What will be acceptable numbers to shut down the world again?

What will they mandate next?

What if it wasn’t a virus that was spreading, but an idea? A Revolution?

What if we turn this around and instead of doing all the things that sent us to our room, we choose differently?

Could we do it?

Could we get ourselves healthy in our minds and in our bodies so that we do not need their drugs, their vaccines, their fears?

Do we have what it takes to truly be brave before we lose our freedom?

I think we are a long way from this.

But one can hope.