First Day of School

After surgery

So have you ever read the story of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day? That was our day, our first day into the new school year.  It was July 28, 2014. Maybe it wasn't that bad, but good grief, we had a rough start...

I woke up with the worst gall bladder attack I've have in many years.  I couldn't walk or move.  It was horrible.  We got started late.  I shouldn't have started at all, but for goodness sake, it was the first day.  And I needed a sick day?!  Crazy talk.  I couldn't do that on the first day.  It would throw off my entire year!!

I slept a little late, and started to feel better enough to start our school day.  Breakfast?  What? Get dressed? What?  You mean they need to eat breakfast and wear something other than pajamas all day?  And of course, they have to really enjoy said breakfast, slowly since we're starting school and all, and we have to clean up the mess from said breakfast. Then, the clothes must be just right since we're not going anywhere.

It was getting late, and we've NOT even STARTED.  I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown.  Then, we all came to the table.  It was Bible reading time, and WE were going to have a good attitude, weren't we?

Now, we were on to table work, and not 30 minutes into grammar/language arts, I got my first, "I hate grammar.  What is the point of this?"  We hadn't been into school for 30 full minutes. I enlisted Daddy to come help out with this attitude.

Hungry?  Again?  They just ate breakfast?  We've barely made it into the school day.  Now, they wanted a snack?

We actually made it through the varying levels of math and language arts... I stagger them, so they can all be working on something.  That was a success.  Lunchtime came, and again with the meal mess.  I started to feel sick again and instructed the kids to do silent reading while I rested a minute.

Then, I heard something outside my bedroom door. I saw a beautiful, little brown haired, seven year old sneak into my room.  I didn't open my eyes but a crack, and there was her sweet face.  My precious Hannah.  She pulled the throw blanket over my arms and said, "If you don't feel good, we should pray.  I will pray for you."

And there it was.  My sweet girl, praying...for me...on what felt like a terrible first day.  Oh, the conviction. The reassurance.  The Lord reminded me through her of all that I already knew.  Things may not be picture perfect, but something must be going right.

Why do I homeschool?  For moments.  For time.  For them.  For me.

It's what is right for our family.