What a difference a week makes. It hasn’t been easy, exactly – getting back into the school routine and rhythm and figuring out how to use the alarm clock again – but something about the change is having positive effects on the lot of us.
Dave had jetted off to Hobart from Tuesday to Friday, which turned up the pressure a few notches, but we managed to make it on time (mostly) and get through the week intact. There were, of course, the expected tantrums (all the way up and down the hill to the school carpark), the late nights of fitting in homework, the threats of ‘if you don’t get out of bed this instant I’m so pulling off these covers!’ and the conking out into dreamland as heads touched down each evening.
All of the pressure points we feared have (so far, thankfully) turned out to be insignificant – Eli struggling with the sudden introduction of his siblings into ‘his’ territory, Ivy and Harvey losing their love of learning due to having to drop down several ‘levels’ back to their age and stage, Hudson handling the deluge of work and finding the ability to focus in the midst of a chaotic and busy classroom. Thankfully, each of the four have dived right into the change with gusto and are, so far, managing really well. Even Hudson, who had the unfortunate experience of being accused by another classmate of some untoward behaviour (which was subsequently proved untrue by the viewing of CCTV footage) has shrugged off the incident with extraordinary resilience and hardly missed a step.
In the newfound quiet of home I’ve managed to plough through errands, grocery shopping and cleaning with relative ease, as if having shrugged off a heavy backpack. It turns out that when you don’t have the constant guilt of ‘not making enough of the homeschooling day’ on your shoulders, or you don’t have to proactively distribute tasks and missions in the midst of supermarket aisles or deliver the disappointing news that ‘no, you can’t buy five Kit Kats today’ (and, of course, suffer the inevitable grumpy aftermath) tasks can be almost carefree.
My parents have been ridiculously amazing in the lead up to our plan to put the house on the market. With youthful vigour and jaw-dropping efficiency, they have shown up many times ready to put in a huge day’s work – painting cupboard doors, finding and fitting forgotten venetians, delivering staging advice, de-cluttering wardrobes, tackling unruly weeds and tidying the chaos of the neglected garage. I feel positively lazy next to them! Suddenly, the overwhelming task of what seemed as if it would take months has been shrunk into a mere week and a half and we are tantalisingly close. Watch this space.
I’m discovering a new path as well, starting work at the school part-time this week, which feels like a massive answer to prayer. Having skipped that significant milestone of having all school-aged children in late January (indeed, I had ‘regressed’ at that precise moment to having all four at home instead), now I’m ready to launch into rediscovering my own potential in the workforce, and I can’t wait! While freelancing has been a life-sustaining option and won’t disappear completely, there’s something about joining a ready-made community that is enticing (not to mention the fact that predictability and consistency of work-flow is also a major plus).
It turns out I even have time for appointments during the days now, so I finally went to a place I’ve not stepped foot in since prior to COVID: the hairdresser. My hair is now at least 30 cm shorter and feels much more healthy and intentional. Although apparently I look like a super-villain now (according to the kids) – but a fashionable one. Not quite sure how to take that!
Yet still, in the midst of these buds of new life unfurling, I have moments of grief and sadness. Packing up the homeschooling table today I saw flashes of our life over the past year – the curriculum I colour-printed in a flurry of delight, the scrawl of growth seen in worksheets and overstuffed pockets of writing, brightly labelled folders and pockets, watercolour masterpieces. I hear of a friend who is poised to begin her own homeschooling journey and I connect her with people I have come to count as dear friends. Events pop up on the calendar that we had planned to attend. There is a sense of nostalgia and wistfulness about what might still have been.
I’m still not exactly sure what the future holds, but really, when do we ever? I’ve passed through a period that felt a lot like birthing pains, and emerged into a new reality. As always, God is in control and I’m inordinately grateful for that. I stand, with a soft heart and straight-back, ready to embrace his plan for me – for all of us.
