I keep thinking about how much time this whole project has taken away from my “real” life. What’s my real life? My real life is spent hiking and picking flowers with two little boys who are the very definition of handsome and cuddly. In my real life I cuddle on the couch with my kids and read book after book without ever wondering how much time has passed.
Watching and listening to my kids play is a true high for me. To say that I love the sound of their laughter is to put it mildly. Their laughter is a beautiful music that’s the soundtrack of my life. When they smile their skin is taut over their plump brown cheeks and their bright white smiles glow only slightly less than the whites of their eyes against their stark black pupils. They are truly beautiful and I miss them.
“But you home school, how can you miss them?” Teaching my boys to read, write, and do arithmetic is not the same as what I described above. In my “real” life the days flow together like endless amounts of unsegmented time. At any given moment we could be jumping on the trampoline together, going for an impromptu walk, playing chase at the park, or eating ice cream in bed.
I wanted to give my sons the gift of heritage which is what this work has been about. Even more than that though I wanted to give my sons the gift of a relaxed, unscheduled, carefree childhood on which they could look back upon and recall days spent riding bikes, climbing trees, and hiking mountains. Even more than this idyllic childhood, I wanted to give them me.
I remember as a girl that I loved riding my bike on the tree lined streets of our suburban neighborhood, I loved eating chocolate ice cream from 31 Flavors, watching Tom and Jerry, and chasing boys. But most of all I loved my mom. No matter where I was or what activity I was engaged in, I would always be willing to give it all up to be able to spend quality time with her. I can still recall the joy I felt whenever her eyes smiled at me. Having her listen to me, talk with me, and go places with me was always the highest of highs.
I hate how much time I’ve been spending away from my kids. Writing, researching, and homeschooling leave very little time for impromptu dates with my boys, leisurely strolls to the lake and so on.
I feel a bit of conflict about this season in my life. Some days (like today, obviously) I feel like I’m running out of steam. I’m writing at a Paradise Bakery and I am not with my kids. I schooled them this morning and then quickly had to leave them with their dad so that I could run errands and write.
Hopefully, this detour in my life will not last forever. Maybe one day they’ll read this and they’ll know that while they were missing me I was missing them too.