Sunshine and Rain

Here is a picture of the "shine sprite" The Oldest made for me in art class. Crazy little sculpture, but it makes me a bit happier for some reason. He knows that the dark, dank weather affects me so he thought of me when he made it and said when he handed it over, "This is for you, Mom, when the weather is bad, you can at least have a little sunshine in your window to cheer you up." So I have the thing on my kitchen window sill where I store some of my soap balls. He was probably thinking of himself too though when he thought of making it for me. I get very down when it is cloudy and rainy (which used to be my favorite weather). He has to deal with a not too happy mother every so often.

Speaking of the rainy weather, I remember back in the archives of my brain one of the times I first met The Professor. When he was only my acquaintance, he used to come over to my parents house as they had a sort of "marriage class" home group sort of thing. He was the only single guy who came as he wanted to learn about how to be a good husband as his goal was to marry eventually. I rarely stayed during those meetings, but since it was raining cats and dogs, I remained indoors while everyone piled in the house one by one.

I don't know what I was thinking. It was indeed true that I loved the rainy weather, but I must have had a confidence with men then that I forget about in my older years now. When The Professor walked through the door, all rainy and in a bright yellow raincoat, I couldn't help but look up at him. One of the elders had opened the door, welcoming him in, saying, "It's terrible weather out there, eh?" The Professor put his hood down and said jovially, "Oh, I LOVE the rain! I wish it would rain more!"

At that moment he looked over at me slightly as I was sitting at a table facing the door and I was shocked. I had never met a person who loved the rain like me. In complete confidence (I only imagine), I said, "You are DEFINITELY scoring some points."

What he took that to mean, I am still not sure, but he turned a little pink and laughed as he took his coat off.

Isolating X

I think I have lost my ability to write at all. I took off about 8 months on this thing and left it for dead, but decided, why not? Who knows if I want to keep it up regular like I used to.

My brain is entertained elsewhere these days. Mainly it wants to stay indoors and never leave the house, but of course I find that I am taking a kid to soccer a few times a week, running errands, meeting friends for coffee, and teaching at the co-op.

I just survived a very terrible experience worship leading at a local church (I wasn't terrible, the people were a mixed bag). I spent a good year doing that but it was not wasted. In fact, I was still writing on here when I was leading. Well, that's over. The present worship team did not appreciate my efforts much because I was not rock n roll, so here I am. It took me a bit to be fine with it. It feels rather not good when people do not like or accept you. But when you are rock n roll, you are rock n roll.

I am in the throes of teaching my Oldest Algebra. When anyone asks me what I am doing these days, I just say, "Isolating X." They look at me puzzled but if the person is a wise homeschool mom she knows immediately what I mean and chuckles. This, I believe, is why my brain is fried. I literally broke down and cried last week when I couldn't figure out a problem (when I usually can). My son looked at me in horror as if to say, "what is this wetness falling from your cheeks onto my math book?" His lack of "Here, let me solve the problem, dear mother!" or "How can I make this better?!" made me so angry that I didn't know whether to ravenously eat the math book with my retainer on and upturn the coffee table when finished or just calmly sit there and cry a bit more. You know when you are so mad you just look around a bit saying in your head, "what can I do? What can I do?" seeking something to possibly destroy. It is desperation and I don't ever want to feel that again.

But we got through it, you know? And eventually I looked at the problem again and realized that I was looking at it wrong and solved it in a jiffy, which, turned out that the boy could solve it in a jiffy too and the world was right again. I didn't have to eat the math book, I didn't ruin my retainer, I didn't upturn the coffee table in my wrath.

But this has been a year. Next year will be my favorite, I am quite certain: the Oldest enters high school. I will be homeschooling ten years when this one is over and I am not sure I like it. Some of you Anons that hate me in the world like to come on here and comment on how ungrateful and melancholy I am. You are exactly the reason why I exist. While I jokingly complain, you are probably on your angel-bordered template blog talking about tea and pretty little laces and bears and whatnot. Let's not forget your house is full of knick knacks and your closet is full of Christmas sweaters. If only I had a thimble collection I would feel less melancholy. If only. Try isolating X for days on end with an Expo pen until your fingers bleed. So I am exaggerating. But you are not. You are over there with your pink sweat shirt sipping some earl grey as I type.