A homeschooling mom may cry on occasion.
And I hate it when I do but admit it happens. The chaos and noise of five small bodies starts to work on me. I start to nag. A little too much complaining and a little too much in-fighting…the tension mounts and I nag more.
Coming around the corner and finding the toddler on the counter eating butter never helps.
Finally, the many, many piles left untended and the eighteenth request to tidy up after oneself leads to “Are those ugly words really coming out of my mouth? Yes, they are.” and boom!—suddenly Momma gives in to the much-needed release that a good cry offers.
Like I said, I hate it when this happens. For the rest of the day, the kids are wary and more angelic than…well, than is normal for little humans. The least little sniff on my part and instant comes the query: “Are you crying?” It makes one feel so…self-conscious. It makes me feel like my sixth grade teacher, Sister Genevieve, a very capable and lovely nun who nonetheless was prone to tears and who would stop the lesson from time to time—ah heck, here it comes—to fish a tissue out of her sleeve.
God love her. I know now what she’s going through because God help me, I’m trying my best to form five souls in You. And they don’t always want that.
Take yesterday as one of many examples. Our syllabus read “Week 2: Day 3” but it felt more like February. You know what I mean and if you don’t, re-read the second paragraph of this post.
So I called on God for assistance—please help me through this day!—and the beautiful thing is, He answered! Unexpectedly, in the midst of the din at lunchtime, He sent me some respite.
It came in the form of the sadly sweet book Grandpa’s Angel which I had brought home from the library sight unseen, (read unread?), and the inexpressibly beautiful
Violin Concerto #1 by Franz Josef Haydn. If you want to, go and get a copy of both. Read the book, listen to the concerto, and then come back to this post. It will all make much more sense that way.
Both the book and the music were not “part of the plan” for our day; I can only assume that they were sent our way as a gift. You see, the book I had grabbed at random as our lunchtime read-aloud, and the violin concerto was playing on the stereo when I went to put in a movie directly after. (The receiver, I might add, is rarely left on the AM/FM setting; with our toddler’s love of all things audio-visual, though, the settings are often…shall we say, adjusted. )
Consequently, I did not expect the lilting notes of the violin solo to fill the room when I turned on the DVD player. As such, I did not shuffle off to do the lunch dishes as I’d originally planned but instead, sank into the nearest chair and just listened.
And at this point the tears of quiet followed on the heels of the tears of frustration. This time, when my son asked, “Why are you crying?” my reply was, “Because it is just so beautiful.”
Thank you, Father, for the reminder that sometimes all we have to do is ask.
A beautiful post, Margaret. We all have those days, but He’s so good to us, isn’t he?
Wonderful post. I know exactly how you feel…laughed out loud at the toddler eating butter….
God bless!
Any time there was a stick of butter on the counter, my two year old daughter could be found eating it. Gross. Thank God she outgrew that-and that she wasn’t the only one that did it!
As a friend from our homeschooling co-op put it, “If we don’t laugh, it isn’t funny!”
Sometimes I still need to cry first… : )