Just a Number

I'm starting to realize something.  I have this weird feeling about the parents of Hunter's friends.  And today, the reason for that hit me.

This is a community in which women began having children when they were my age, or maybe a few years younger.  Even mothers whose oldest is the same age as my youngest are several years or more older than I.  Not one of the mothers in our community had her first child at the age of 19.  Ergo, Hunter's friends' mothers are 5-10 years (or more) older than I.  In a lot of places, that wouldn't matter; but this community happens to be one where it does.  Five to ten years or more makes for a pretty big gap, even in your twenties and thirties.

Of course, it might also be important to note that I have different interests than they do.  I probably also have different values and priorities than most of them.  Granted, you can find that pretty much anywhere, but here it's prevalent rather than occasional.

Which is, of course, one reason we believe finding a church to be important.  Unfortunately, we've been searching since before we were married and still haven't found one to call home.  Which is an entirely different entry altogether.

I realize this post is a bit of a ramble and lacking a central goal or main point.  Its only purpose is really just to express the thought that hit me suddenly and with a bit of a jolt.

The funny (strange, not haha) thing about it is that I don't feel like a "young" mother until I really think about the numbers.  The feeling that my son was born when I was 19 is an odd one, to say the least.  Thankfully, I have more important things to occupy my thoughts these days.  

After all, my eldest is just two days shy of being a decade old!

A Little Steam

So, this post is going to be a bit of a vent.  Not a bash of the mainstream school system - after all, I may be a part of it someday.  But right now, I am feeling a bit frustrated, yet wondering at the same time if I am overreacting.

Right before spring break, Hunter's teacher sent home a note stating that they were going to begin working on a project entitled "A Decade of My Life."  They were supposed to bring in pictures from their lives, birth to present, and a list of some important events that have occurred in their lives.

For obvious reasons, this project was more of a challenge for us than for other families.  But getting the pictures together and having few positive events for him to share was not the main issue for me.

I am a scrap-booker.  I am organized (when it comes to the important stuff).  I am also the kind of mom who wants to make sure that her kids always have keepsakes and records of their childhoods, both for themselves and for posterity.  Put all of these together, and I believe it is MY job to do this project with my child.  MY job to gather pictures with him, talk about them, be there for him when he wants to talk about the significant events that have occurred in his life.  It is MY right and MY privilege and MY joy to spend the time putting together scrapbooks for him.  And I do NOT appreciate the school taking that away from me.

Granted, their intention was not to take anything away from parents.  Their intention was to do "something fun as a class."  And for probably 7 out of every 10 of those kids, this will be their first scrapbook of any kind.  But that is not my fault and not my problem, and I don't believe it is the school's place to take something so personal and make it into a group project.

This doesn't even touch on the feelings I have about my son being adopted.  These feelings are solely based on the fact that I don't believe it is right for his school to take on themselves this type of a task.  The fact that this is going to be even more difficult for him as an adoptee is a completely separate issue that even further supports my feelings that this type of project should be done at home with the parent(s).

A lot of things throughout this year have further strengthened my desire to homeschool my children.  I was homeschooled as a child and allowed to choose if and when to be mainstreamed, as were my brothers, and I still see the HUGE benefits of homeschooling over mainstream education; and so I have always wanted to at least consider homeschooling for my own children.  But this project - on the heels of the sex ed unit, I might add - has just added fuel to the fire and may be the straw that has broken the camel's back.

"When I Be a Mom"

Lately, I have been hearing the phrase, "When I grow up and be a Mom" a lot.  Like, dozens of times per day.

Sweet little girl, you will grow up someday.  But please, please don't rush 'someday.'  It will be here far too soon as it is.  Today you have only 60 days left to be 3 years old.  So enjoy 3 while you have it, because once 4 comes, 3 is gone forever.

And remember that no matter how much of a grown up you are, you will always be my little girl.

Proof That I Haved Earned the Title "MOM"

Today we are doing OODLES of laundry and packing for our trip.  In the interest of teaching Kaleigh some fine motor skills and to get more done in less time, I showed her how to fold hand towels and washcloths, and then I let her loose on all of them.

Now, try to visualize a pile of hand towels folded by a three year old.  Now visualize a perfectionist Mommy with an anxiety order plus obsessive compulsive disorder.  When I fold towels, the corners match up perfectly, the folds are pristine, and they stack on top of each other exactly.

These towels...  not so much.

And I...

I did NOT refold them, nor do I plan to.

I think I am now a REAL Mom!