The Fantasy of the Beautiful Home



How about a whimsical new planter?



Don't get me wrong, I adore my children.  But once a year, my parents keep all of the boys for a week or more.  They go camping, play with cousins, swim, fish, and get spoiled rotten.  And I . . . I engage in one of my favorite Mom fantasies . . . the Fantasy of the Beautiful Home.

It begins immediately upon my arrival from dropping  the boys with their grandparents.  I look around the house with a gleam in my eye.  I check the cleaning closet for supplies.  I strip the sheets off the boys' beds and toss them in the washer.

Hours later, when I would normally be in bed, I am humming and scrubbing the homeschool table.  I am vacuuming under the couch.  I am reorganizing the shoe cubbies at the entryway.



Lady eyes me nervously as I begin cleaning everything in sight!



Yes, it has hit full force: the delusion that while the boys are away, I can clean and tidy the house so that it will remain clean!  This is obviously ridiculous.  What home could possibly withstand the force of three little boys, a german shepard, and a husband who doesn't like to have anything where he can't SEE it?

Yet I cannot help myself.  Within a few short days, the house of my dreams will begin to emerge from the cobwebs-- though never coming fully into view.  It is the Annual Fantasy of  the Beautiful Home; back for a limited time only.

   

   

Walking the Line Between Relaxed and Lazy

As I prepared the boys' annual review yesterday, it occurred to me (not for the first time) that I could have done a better job.  My plans and schedules tend to fall by the wayside as life takes over.  Before I know it, it is summer . . . and we never did those other chemistry experiments, took the spelling tests I had planned, or had a Roman Feast day. 

Then again . . . on the way to church this morning, John Robert read to me from his latest WWII fact book.  When the boys got home from church, they settled into the living room to watch a WWII documentary.  If I had "made" them do those things for history class, I would have counted it as a "lesson," and they probably wouldn't have enjoyed it nearly as much.

John Robert is going to a Shakespeare based play this afternoon with his buddy, Quinn.  That isn't part of drama or history.  It's just for fun.   

So are we relaxed homeschoolers or just lazy?  Am I doing my best as a teacher?  I have concluded that the boys are far too curious and intelligent to be lazy.  They may be uninterested in a subject, but that's not quite the same as being lazy (though they may look the same!).  I don't believe in tests or grades.  I believe in watching and listening carefully to the boys in order to determine what they know and what they need.  I believe in allowing the boys to determine what they learn and how they learn it-- as much as I can stand it.  Sometimes it must look like I'm being lazy.  However, often times I realize when I leave them alone that is when they learn the most!   

The Boys in the Tropical Rainforest section
of the Atlanta Botanical Garden



Spencer wading in the fountain at the Botanical Garden



My Three Sons



Denver flying the Queen Air with Daddy

The Great Day that Almost Wasn't

I woke up early and went to the gym.  I was home and had coffee before anyone stirred.  It seemed like a lot of work to get the boys up, dressed, fed, and in the car to the Atlanta Botanical Garden's Homeschool Day.  After all, the idea had been mine and not the boys.  Maybe they would like to sleep in and then go to the library or the newly opened pool.  Just yesterday I had cancelled our plan to ride with friends to the Botanical Garden because I thought we couldn't go.  Now that we could go, maybe we would just stay home instead.   

When Spencer came downstairs, I mentioned the planned trip for today and asked (rather hopefully) if he'd rather stay home.

"Oh, I'm looking forward to it," he smiled.  "I can't wait to see how they make those giant plant sculptures!"  Oh, I thought.  Okay.

An hour and a half later, we arrived at the Botanical Gardens.  There was some fussing in the car.  The boys argued a bit.  I made threats.  If I had Dorothy's magic slippers, I might have clicked my heels and been back home.  I'm sure glad I didn't.  

The boys loved the Botanical Garden!  Much to my surprise, they "Ooohed" and "Aaahhed" over the enormous plant sculptures.  John Robert loved the patterns on the cobras, and declared them as beautiful from the back as from the front.  They appreciated the use of different plants for different textures-- like the unicorn's mane and tail; and they laughed at the playful way the exhibits were designed-- you could run through the giant ogre's head.  John Robert explored a bit by himself and enjoyed navigating with the map and being in charge of our tour.

As I tagged along behind them, I listened to their chatter and watched the way they circle around one another as they talk.  I couldn't help noticing how much older the boys are.  They run ahead without me and only look back much later.  No one cries or has to be carried.  Yet they are still my boys and they still love to share things with me.  Spencer touched the base of an enormous hanging pitcher plant.  "I always wanted to do that," he said.  Denver wanted me to look at the rainforest frogs with him.  John Robert borrowed the camera to take numerous pictures of the tropical plants.  There were enormous leaves-- as large as a Queen size bed; tree frogs everywhere, turtles, geckos; even a pair of Quail and their offspring were waiting to be found by watchful eyes.

We explored every nook and cranny of the Garden.  To my surprise and delight, the boys genuinely enjoyed looking and touching and comparing the plants.  Spencer even did most of the homeschool worksheet a volunteer gave him.

I never know what is going to pique their interest and what will be left behind.  They will most likely never become botanists.  Yet the day was a delight.  They stopped and paused by nearly every fountain or pool of water, and at least one of them would say, "Isn't it peaceful?"  or "It's so calming."  As we left the Garden, they said again and again . . . "That was fun.  This was fun."

Who could ask for a better start to the summer?



This 15 foot high dog was adorable!





Who doesn't believe in unicorns?



The Parenting Dream



Spencer and Denver have developed a deep
fascination with marine life.



If parenting were as easy as I expected it to be, my life would be much less exciting.  My children are not the easily moldable creatures I imagined they would be before I actually had them.  I suppose every parent realizes this at some point.  My first realization came about ten years ago when my first born two-year old was not interested in horses or dogs, but preferred wooden trains and plastic dinosaurs.  Learning to let go of my dreams and help my children pursue their own unique paths is both challenging and wonderful.  



For the last decade, I am reminded daily that my dreams for them are just that: dreams.  My children have their own passions; and although we agree on many things-- "Latin and history are fun!"-- I find that it is best to help them learn through following their own interests instead of mine.  I also harbor fantasies about how they should behave-- when I say, "Time to brush your teeth; they should say, 'Yes, Ma'am,' and do it immediately,"-- These unrealistic expectations are just fantasies that tend to make everyone miserable when they are not met.  If I make my expectations more realistic-- "Brush your teeth before bed," -- then we all get along much better.  I'm learning; but not fast enough.



Denver gave me another little kick in the pants last week.  After watching him toodle around the pool during swim team practice-- seeing how far he could squirt water out of his mouth, refusing to freestyle in favor of keeping his head up so he could chat with his buddy as he swam-- I couldn't resist speaking with him after class.  "Buddy, you weren't doing what the coach said.  It was a little embarrassing to see you not doing your best."

Denver enjoys "Eye of the Tiger" on our
new ipod.

Denver paused and looked at me before speaking.  "Mom, there is no need for you to be embarrassed.  No one knows I'm your son."

I was speechless.  In many ways, he was right.  He wasn't worried about what other people thought.  He wasn't hurting anyone.  He was trying to make the best of swim team practice by amusing himself.  I made him join the swim team; he's just dealing with it.  I decided to leave him alone.   



Last week, I met a lovely woman who is mother to two young sons.  We were talking after swim team practice, and she asked where I lived.  When I told her that we lived nearby, she immediately said, "Well, I guess you'll plan for them to go to Oxford College and then on to Emory."  She seemed serious.  I was taken aback by her assumption that I would plan out the boys' adult lives for them.  I didn't know what to say.  I almost laughed and said, "Yes, and I've chosen their college majors and their wives for them, too!"  Instead, I said, "Oh, well, that would certainly be nice.  We'll see."




To some extent, we parents cannot resist planning and hoping for our children.  As a homeschooling parent, I am particularly prone to worrying about their academic progress.  Yet deep down, it is becoming clear to me that my worries are more about me and my parenting dreams than about anything real.  They continue to learn-- with and without my guidance.  They are on their own unique paths.  Now . . . if I can just remember that when Denver walks downstairs insisting on wearing his purple shirt and red and blue plaid pants to church.  He says, "What do you think?  Am I Jazzy?!"







Sunny Sweet Days

Some days are just too sweet not to share.  The same holds true for strawberries.  Today the boys and I drove out to Mitcham Farm and picked five buckets of enormous, beautiful berries.  It was easy picking-- they practically fell into our buckets.  Denver said, "This is fun!  I feel like a real farmer!"  Much to my surprise, all of the boys had a great time, and commented on what a great idea it was.

The day was sunny and warm, and it wasn't long before we needed to take a break for lemonade.  After purchasing our berries, we went to a playground where the boys played happily until lunch time.

The fun wasn't over, however.  Denver's buddy, Alex, invited all of us over to play in the afternoon.  We went.  We had fun.  I talked with Amy as she worked in the garden.  The boys played games and enjoyed each other.

After dinner (and more strawberries!), Spencer and Denver wanted to go to Karate Night-- three hours of running and playing and organized chaos sponsored by his karate studio.  We decided to take Spencer's old buddy, Tylen, as well as Alex.  They made quite a foursome. 

John is home from a three day trip.  John Robert is curled up with the ipad, enjoying a little fun without his brothers interrupting him.  I've got two sour cream pound cakes in the oven to enjoy with our strawberries.  It's been a sweet day.  And there's more to come..  

Redneck Slip-n-Slide

It rained for 36 hours, but today after church the sky cleared.  Spencer and Denver played Survivor Man outside all evening.  They whittled spears, tried to build a fire, and pretended to hunt. 

As darkness fell, I looked into the front yard and saw two of the muddiest children on Earth-- and they were sliding across my front yard!  Grinning from ear to ear, they ran and slid into what quickly went from a mud puddle to a long, deep mud bog.  They were grinning so much that even their teeth were muddy! 

When it was too dark to see, John called them to the back porch.  They stripped down for an outside shower-- John poured buckets of warm water over them.  They loved it!  After shower number one, they dried off and came in for shower number two and pajamas and snacks. 

Who needs to spend money on a slip-n-slide when you can just use the muddy yard?  Our family seems destined to be the subject of a Jeff Foxworthy joke: You might be a redneck!