So far, it has been a whac-a-mole summer. That’s how I described life at our house to a friend recently. I told her I keep thinking there will be some blank space at the end of my To Do List, but as soon as I got to the bottom of the list, someone turns the page over and the other side of the page is just as full. So I get one mole whacked and another one pops up. I’m not complaining. It’s been a summer full of good and necessary things. And since my mind is distracted with the next mole that needs whacking, this post will be fragments and pieces.
Tomorrow we take our final step in finishing out our first home school year by taking standardized tests. We haven’t been doing school work for awhile, but we haven’t had any empty space on our calendar to get our tests completed. Our calendar doesn’t actually have any empty space this week either, but we’re on a deadline so we’re going to have to make it fit. We’re trying not to be, but we’re all a little nervous. I’ve explained to the kids the tests are really more to measure how well I taught them and to evaluate where we need to spend more time studying next year. Now that the onus is on me, they’re more relaxed and I’m sweating bullets. Well, not really. I’m trying to give myself a little bit of grace. This was our first year and I know we have room for improvement. I just need validation I didn’t break my kids in the year their education has been my responsibility.
In case you haven’t heard, we moved again. Some families go on family trips each summer, our family moves. This move was a local one as opposed to a cross country or ocean one. In some ways, local moves are definitely easier than the longer distance ones, but in other ways, they’re more painful. At the beginning of the move, we carefully transport small, organized loads and unload them in an orderly fashion. By the last few days of the move we’re cramming stuff in any square inch of space we can find in the minivan and throwing it anywhere it will fit in the new house. I told another friend it looks like our new house had a virus and threw up all our belongings everywhere. Although I’ve officially reached the stage of the move where I want to gather all of our things that don’t have a home and
burn them find a suitable location for them immediately, slowly but surely, we’re making some sense of the chaos and it’s starting to look like a place people might safely inhabit. You know, a place for everything and everything in its place. Also known as “Who Am I Kidding? That Looks Look Good on a Mary Engelbreit Calendar, But In Real Life Some Things Just Seem to Always Remain Homeless.”
This place needs to start looking like a home a lot more quickly than it has been because we have company coming next week. My college roommate and her family are coming for a visit. Cindy and I haven’t seen in each other since my wedding seventeen years ago! It’s been even longer since I’ve seen her husband, and our kids have ever met. No matter what state our home is in, it will not look worse than our dorm room looked almost every day we lived together. OBU friends, can I get a witness? Our room was legendary. We routinely failed room check. Our room wasn’t filthy, but it was definitely cluttered. Let’s just say we were hoarders before hoarding was cool.
I remember during our junior year we decided to clean out our room. For some reason, we felt the best way to accomplish this goal would be to pile every single thing we owned in one corner and work from there. For some other reason that escapes me now, we decided the best corner would be the one behind the one door that allowed entrance and exit from our room. After we’d made our pile, we heard a knock on the door. Our next door neighbors, Shelley & Denise, could only get the door open enough to stick their heads in the entrance. They looked at the pile and slowly backed away and closed the door. Needless to say, we failed room inspection that week. But Shelley and Denise went on to form Point of Grace so I can’t help but feel the opportunity to live next door to our greatness inspired them in some way. I’m not sure how, but I like to believe we did. I’m just that delusional.
Anyway, C-Jo would understand the chaos, but I’d rather offer them a calm, relaxed place to visit us. Besides, a few days after they leave, I’m providing lodging for complete strangers who are speaking at my homeschool group’s parent practicum in July. Yes, I am. Because I don’t have good boundaries.
So I’d better go sharpen some #2 pencils and get a good night’s sleep so I’ll be ready for our tests. Actually I need to find the box that holds the #2 pencils. Wish me luck.
And if you see my mole running around here anywhere, would you give him a good whack on the head for me?
Insert picture of a Whac-A-Mole game here. I googled some pictures but decided they weren’t worth the effort it would take to post them. But I did learn I was spelling Whac-A-Mole incorrectly. I spelled it Whack-A Mole, but there is no “k.” Whac-A-Mole looks more like guacamole to me. And now I’m craving Mexican food. Sigh. Good night.