The Kids are Alright

Earlier this summer I worried that my kids would think of this as the summer they didn't have a mom.

April and May are always busy months. Mark was going to be travelling, we were having houseguests, every weekend was full. Gwen's senior recital, choir concert, prom and graduation were looming. Matthew had a swim meet, a campout, and a trip to North Carolina planned. Add both kids' birthdays to this and it was going to be a busy time.

And then Mark had an accident. And broke his leg. Badly. Life stood still for me while Mark was in the hospital. But the kids' activities went on. My priorities shifted. I didn't go back to the college course I had just started. I didn't cook dinner and hardly bought groceries. I don't know how Matthew finished school; we barely got any work done. I totally forgot about his German lessons the week of the accident and then forgot once more (for good measure?). Birthdays were a chore; something to get through.

I was exhausted mentally and physically. I think I still am. Every night I wonder if it's too early to go to bed starting around 7 p.m. I care more about my own bedtime than my kids' bedtimes. I don't feel very motherly.

But now I can see that the kids are all right and that the previous 13+ years of parenting meant more than the last few months. And I hope that when they look back on this time they will understand that I wasn't trying to ignore them but was devoted to the one thing I needed to spend my energy on -- their dad.

It Happens Every Spring

I have been a homeschooling mom for the past 11 years. So for the past 10 years I have had the same thought every summer: Next year will be different; next year will be better. Next year I'll find the perfect books, design creative lessons, and be enthusiastic all year long. Next year my children will happily do research projects, book reports, and other creative projects. We'll finish these projects in October or November; we won't be rushing through them in May.

Think Charlie Brown, Lucy, and the football. Every fall Lucy tells Charlie Brown that she'll hold the ball for him and she convinces him to kick it. And what happens? She snatches the football away.

But this year it will be different. This year I will not be a homeschooling mom. My daughter heads off to college next month and my son will attend a charter school. Maybe this will be the year my children have enthusiastic teachers, creative lessons and the perfect books. Maybe this year Lucy will hold the football for Charlie Brown to kick.