The portfolio meeting was a blessing this morning. Long drive--an hour both ways. But well worth it! My new credentialed teacher--with whom I must meet once a year to have her sign off on my children's portfolios--has ADHD, and one of her sons does as well. She talked and talked at a frenetic pace on a variety of rapidly-changing topics. I had to chuckle to myself. It wasn't hard to see the ADHD!
During college she had to lock herself in the bathroom in her dorm and plug her ears, just so she could concentrate well enough to study. Obviously, she learned to compensate for her condition.
She shared many tips, and it was very encouraging to hear how well her "unschooled" children are doing. One son is in college with a mechanical engineering major, on scholarship, and her daughter is entering college this fall, also on scholarship.
Daddy stayed with the children here at home while I was away. I arrived home at 11:15 a.m. and my baby was outside in her croc-like shoes, with her pajamas on. And no, not because she escaped from an unlocked door. My three-year-old was out in a summer skort, paired with an unmatching, long-sleeved fall shirt. She dressed herself.
I walked into the house and there was stuff everywhere--all over the floors, the counters, the dining-room table.
Did I want to cry? Yes. Do I feel like crying every time I walk into my house, after having been gone an hour or two? Yes. But caring for four young children is overwhelming--this I well know. I don't actually expect anything to get done. It's still shocking to walk in though, and see how much work is ahead of me. It usually takes me a couple hours (often-interrupted hours) to set things somewhat right. Things are never quite right, mind you, even on the best of days. And they're never perfect. Perfect is not even on my radar.
Momma: "Why is Beth in her pajamas?"
Daddy: "I didn't know what else to put on her. If you want something in particular on her, just lay it out and I'll put it on."
Alrighty then.
No, he was not being sarcastic--he's rarely ever sarcastic. But he does march to his own drum proudly, not caring to conform.
There is a reason his PA friends told him, upon hearing about his impending move to California: "Man, your clothes will never make it in California!"
Um, yeah. They meant that he has no style. No standards. Hence, a baby playing outside in pajamas doesn't faze him.
Dear Lord, if I am called home to Heaven before I finish raising my children, please send my husband a new wife. Pronto!
The good news? He unloaded the dishwasher. See? He's an awesome husband, friends. I don't mean to imply otherwise. The children were all fed and happy.
Peter noticed that Beth was in her pajamas. "I told him Beth needed to be dressed, Mommy."
Some good links:
Ann, from A Holy Experience, writes beautifully about how a mother and wife should prioritize her time. So often we spend time on the things that are seen, so that we look good, instead of on the things that are unseen, but pleasing to the Lord. (Do the pajamas count in this? I don't think so. :)
Michelle, from The Adventures of Mommy Missionary, writes thoughtfully about being on bedrest after surgery, and what it has taught her about her usual frenetic pace. A fast-paced life is not pleasing to the Lord! Read to find out why.
Jasmine, an impressive young lady of 20, authors the blog Joyfully At Home. Her post The Cinderella Syndrome, encourages us to serve joyfully in our homes. Her writing is quite lovely and persuasive. She definitely has the gift of exhortation!
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