Together. And having it.
The morning was dewy and wet. Chilly to the bareness of our so-long summer bodies. I awoke grumbly and obstinate; I spent my morning with Him pleading to replace the ugly with what He needed most from me. I knew my vulnerability. There, spread out like the clean clothes' piles on my kitchen floor, my resume of visionary lie scattered for all to trample. Clustered and confined within myself, my valor for the day ahead escaped me.
Our day ruptured good morning with an argument over cereal. Apparently, eating in slurp-like fashion sluck-sucking every ever-lovin' last drop of milk from one's spoon should be deemed completely normal and considered anything but rude. And, teeth brushing along with clothes selections should naturally require a minimum of 45 minutes. Oh, whoa is the homeschooling mother and the pangs of proximity of offspring as they ebb & flow. I wanted to scream. "GET YOUR DANG CLOTHES ON NOW. RIGHT NOW. RIGHT THIS SECOND!" in the most heinous wicked witch voice. Shrill & curt. But, wordless were my lips as I continued to play cat-n-mouse with composure. "Keep calm and get yer sh%t together, Meghan." Yup. That's was the record on repeat as my mind dropped the needle of me.
I wanted to emit energy wholesome and hopeful. I wanted the boys to seize the day and what it held for them & learning. I swallowed hard several times choking down snide remarks and catty comebacks. These 2 houdalums were out to sabotage my fleeting efforts for groovy vibes of growing together. I was so close to putting a big fat halt to this whole "learning is a journey not a destination" garbage. "Keep calm and get yer sh%t together, Meghan." Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Pencils were broken. Lead was eaten. Yes. You read that correct. Freakin' lead was eaten. An impromptu burping contest broke out. Whining for who went first and "how come I didn't get a turn to talk" was rampant. I cocked the evil eye stare followed by "MAKE A BETTER CHOICE" in my best Darth Vadar voice for like an hour straight. After not one, but THREE warnings, Eli lost the disobedient fight. To his room he reported to receive a swift lecture, plead his case and then take his punishment of a spanking for blatantly choosing NOT to follow directions. With tears and internal damnits {most likely said by all of us at this point}, I finally drug this picture of homeschooling harmony our 3 cranky tails outside for read aloud. The briskness of the early afternoon air welcomed our waning efforts to rescue this pitiful excuse of a school day. With a tear streaked, remorseful face, Eli ran to nab a blanket. I offered up popcorn as my form of a white flag. Casey made fast to his independent reading that was to be done first as he ain't no fool. Mama means business.
I sat still enough to capture the evidence above. Why? Why did this have to happen? I wanted awesome. I wanted great connections and learning high fives. I sat with You, God. I broke it down like James about the mismatched emotions of me. I asked for Your help. I DID NOT want this day to turn out like this. A searing disappointment began to incapsulate my being. I was hurt. I failed. Them. Myself. Him. BUT I CAN'T STAND THE SOUND OF SLUCK-SLURPING OF MILK OFF A SPOON, Lord! And, I can't let it be OKAY that they become lead eaters. You gotta know this, right God? What can I do? What should I have done? Where do I go from here? How can I turn this around? How can I make it better?
"Keep calm and get yer sh%t together, Meghan."
The day ended with an average finish. Tasks were completed. No major gains in potential ACT scores were procured by either boy. Great. Just great. More tuition that Kenny and I will have to pay. Learning looked more like letsgetthisdone and we called it a day. I dropped the boys off with their head coach father at the practice field only to begin my 2nd job as creator of all things from freakin' scratch. I had a plethora of errands to run and seeing as how we live in the middle of nowhere for all things designer friendly, I was off to the nearby big city.
Upon waiting for one of my bulk purchases to be delivered, I caught a reflection of myself in my car window. I was absolutely mortified. "Meghan, your sh%t is NOT together. Would you just look at your face?" Immediately, I was reminded of Mom's favorite saying that I had just recently written about here. Nice, Meg. I snapped the image above in absolute disgust.
On my way home, I rode with the windows down in silence. The flap-slapping of my hair against my face was like some kind of ordained wake-up call. I drove as my locks twisted & twirled all tangly in and around my face. Tickling border lined on tediously annoying, I just let it happen. And, then, in the middle of this windy interlude on interstate 40, I did something most unlike my being. I gave myself grace. I talked through the turmoil of the day. I triumphantly accepted failure. I vowed that slurp-sucking cereal and burps and lead ingesting were all things I would never be okay with. And in that same oh hell naw whisper, I reminded myself that my boys are boys. Imperfectly impressed by things that will NEVER make it onto my radar. Imperfectly, they are mine. And imperfectly, I am theirs. Forever & ever. Through the stink and through the stellar, we move to make it work. And, you know what? It ain't no big thang if Kenny and I have to pay a little more for college tuition due to the lead eating which quite possibly could lead to lower ACT scores.
Failure finds us. It so effortlessly engrosses us all on any given day. He knows this. He needs us to be reminded of this, too. Why? So that we don't find ourselves in a place where compassion and His eternal love do not exist. I have many questions to ask the Big Guy when He and I get the time to chat face to face. And, you can bet one of them is about lead eating.
Thank you for the gift of compassion, Lord. For the imperfect plans of our Earthly lives that lead us straight to Your arms. Together, we move to make it work.
.mac :)
