Ever since I changed this blog over to a homeschooling-only post, I've been feeling totally inspiration-less. Of course, it doesn't help that we have actually moved more into mainstream workbook-type academia. What do you write about with stuff like that? Then again, do you really want me to report that we read another chapter in The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler?
Not that we aren't having fun with the book---my daughter insistently pushes it into my cereal every morning to read it aloud. I need to find some books on Michelangelo---preferably pictorial---specifically with pictures of the Sistine Chapel ceiling and other works like that. Not the nude ones. I can just hear my kids now---ugh! Mo-o-o-o-m! You're embarrassing us! (Not that I mind those comments; far better than more, more, more!)
I think my other problem, related to the one stated above with how-boring-can-workbooks-be-to-talk-about, is that other homeschoolers have so much more interesting blogs. They are altogether more calm, planned, and well, together!
Me? Calm is probably not an adjective most people would peg me with. Passionate. Much more appropriate. Like yesterday when my son purposely ran full force into the phone cord---the one attached to the phone on the wall. It's louder than the cordless so I prefer it on some calls. I managed to hang onto the phone so the phone on the wall gave way. Mind you---my son is nearly 12. Not 3. I ripped into him. Hard. Furiously. I'm out a phone, my favorite phone, but a phone. 100% replaceable. I don't remember exactly what I said to him, but something I said brought back a vision of me at 12. My son was me. Reincarnated. Stubborn to a fault, bound and determined he's right and the center of the universe. Hopeful of such anyway. Grrr! I hate those realizations. I totally hate being humbled in public. Public being anywhere involving anyone other than myself. Sometimes including myself. And my son is totally more important to me than any stupid, idiotic, add your own epithet here, phone! Which, by the way, still works, but will never hang on a wall again unless I get some totally strong, sticky tape that will rip the wall apart if it is ever removed. So today when I got totally upset and delivered another J-Dawg-style tantrum---not at him thankfully but at something else, I was forced to apologize to him and point out how incredibly wrong I was and wonder how in the world my Heavenly Father puts up with me. The image of one more thing I have done that the Savior suffered for so I could repent. That type of scene won't happen again anytime soon! The lesson was far too visual and painful for me to want to add yet another incident of the same type again. I do not want to add another particle to His suffering! At least not of the same kind.
I am thankful to add that a third event happened tonight that could have been very negative, but I remembered and was able to deal with said son in a loving way. I am so grateful for the Lord's love and grace.
Coincidentally, my husband is out of town on a 3-day photo shoot. Could there be some correlation here?
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