Homeschooling

Right now, with my son in first grade, I
love homeschooling.  I love being able to have our days
free -- to do something else, odd, interesting, wild or silly. 
I love doing all the things people do on the
weekends in the middle of the week without any crowds. 
I love exploring without time constraints.  I love unit studies. 
I love finding answers to my son's questions with him,
and finding that having questions makes for fun.  I love
watching him watch the world.  We can read and snuggle
all day.  I love learning that I can do this. 

Mea Culpa

I missed a few posts.  I was soooo
BUSY!  I went to a seder of 87 people, all
beloved family members.  I could have sworn that my dear
ancient Great-Aunt Gloria asked me to get her an iced
tea, so I rushed over to the hot tea and
an aunt I won't name stuck her hands into the
ice-water-filled pitcher to get ice for this dear old lady,
and proudly I presented it, with her choice of sugar
or Sweet'N'Low, and she said, "I have never drank tea
in my entire life!"  I guess my ears are going. 

Death

My dog witnessed the death of my father.  He used to act annoyed at her existence, but, as his death approached, she became an important presence for him.  In his final weeks he'd call her to come sit with him.  He'd stroke her hair and tell her secrets.  She may have felt him weakening.  She stopped barking in his presence.  She never chewed any holes in his oxygen cord.  After his death she'd get upset whenever I tried to lounge in bed and sniff my breath searching, perhaps, for the odor of death he gave off in the end. 

Meditation Practice

I'd be a terrible person without it.  Twenty minutes
every day and practicing mindfulness during
as much of my waking life as possible helps me
like nothing else ever has.  I have more patience,
more ease.  I'm better able to respond
instead of just reacting.  The  more I meditate
and practice mindfulness the more I love my life. 
So why don't I always do it?  What  thwarts me? 
It's hard to say to my family, "yes,  I know you're hungry,
but I need twenty minutes just to sit here."   
Clearly I need to practice.  Breathing in, breathing out...

Seder

My favorite holiday filled with happy memories:  running around
the country club dressed up with my cousins, high on Shirley Temples,
maraschino cherries, Manischevitz, matzah, gefilte fish dyed purple
with horseradish. We searched curtains, tables, chairs for the affikomen,
celebrated freedom from slavery in Egypt, and wondered if Elijah
really took that sip of wine, singing Deyenu!  We still do it this way,
all my cousins and all our children, only we wait until Saturday night.

Last night, we dined on shrimp cocktails at The Harvard Club
with my in-laws.  A different tradition.  The Red Sea is now Crimson.

All of Me

As a homeschooling mom, it is rare for me to be alone. 
Almost every waking moment, I live in the company
of my son.  When I do get the chance to be alone,
it is as if I spread out.  I exhale.  I relax. 
I am no longer only the mom.  I am who I used to be
and maybe who I might become.  I feel greater, enlarged. 
I am not saying I don't want to be with my son; 
I only want, when I am being the mom, to be able to be all of me.

Waiting

Anticipation makes waiting difficult.
Thinking it will end.  To wait another year,
I could put it on hold, ease up on the tension
like letting a fish run on a slack line.  Three months
would be easier than this just-around-the-corner not
knowing.  Don't make any plans.  Don't travel. 
Every day since mid-December is week thirty-eight
of my metaphorical pregnancy.  A yellow fireman's raincoat
instead of a red ski jacket.  Sand toys replacing the sled. 
Done with size threes, he's moving into the fours -- growing up
without me.  I miss him without knowing who he was
and is, and is...