After I spent a wonderful day with a friend, she gently reminded me to be sure to make time for my people. She's right. I know she's right. I completely spaced that Wednesday was Wednesday, so I missed book club. When I saw the text asking if I was coming, the Littles had bread in the oven, I had fat bomb shrapnel all over the counter, and I'd just sent the kids out to bike to the park while I cleaned up. To me, it was just that Wednesday had gotten away from me. It's happened to all of us in book club. It's no big deal. To them, though, it was part of a countdown in the few remaining Wednesdays we have together.
I've sensed a tension, or a dissonance, lately that I haven't been able to articulate, but I felt that at its core was that I'm not handling something well. So tonight, I sat down with some other Very Insightful Women and asked for help hashing out the disconnect. What am I not coping well with? (Other than calendars. Those are always hard.) Where am I not meeting the people I love in a way that is meaningful for them? And how can I do it without giving up the things I actually, legitimately NEED to be doing right now? Where is this stress coming from?
Of course, the first response is generally, "
Why are you still trying to do school?" And that's actually a highly pertinent question. Homeschoolers are notorious for strangling themselves to the point of turning blue as they try to maintain a normal school routine through the most riotous of life's upheavals. "
The school crate can just go into the moving van right before it pulls away. Bobby, you make sure to grab the microscope. I'll have hand sanitizer in the car for everyone, so go ahead and finish your dissection while I do the walkthrough and turn in the keys." Yeah, that's a thing.
In this case, however, our schooling is just the Littles right now. And they're getting some much-needed time and attention while the oldest two are no longer my monkeys in this circus, and the third is away for a while. It's also been a total sanity saver for me to have the gentle rhythm of the days. Chasing down two children for history is downright pleasant after the pace of the last few years! Plus, it's a very Charlotte Mason inspired schedule, which is relaxing and legit nourishing. We don't school for long, but we do get that time together. It's been Good. If I have to stop that right now, I might cry. But I did promise that I will ditch school after Circe and before the move. That was a good reality check.
So we talked about that, about life, about expectations and reality. We talked about the importance of accepting help and the importance of people. All good stuff, but no real epiphanies. And then, it hit me. It's the shifting of the lens, and right now it's like we're all wearing glasses that were cobbled together with two different prescription lenses.
Right now, all of the co-ops and field trips and audition planning is happening. NOW is the time to sign up for the fall. This is when the plans are laid. We'll be in NM come the fall, so my planning time is spent in the NM groups right now. Because we're going to be
there in September when they do the farm field trip, not here.We need to find resources
there, and sign up for events
there, and dive into preparing for life
there. This is just the nature of the season.
So I'm at the point where there are things I'm looking
forward to about the move. (This is lens 1.) I'm looking forward to the family retreat in October, to the horseback riding lessons I've signed the kids up for, to the co-op that I found and willingly joined (I'll tell you more about that later - it's pretty exciting). I'm looking forward to the silhouette shoots with my husband, and hunting in the Gila again, and taking the kids to see the luminarias in Old Town at Christmas. I'm looking forward to signing Em up for snowboarding lessons and Jacob up for ballet. This is my job. I round up the resources and get excited about the plans. It's what I've done for 16 years. At this point, it's almost Pavlovian the way it works. This is just the first time in 13 years that those plans are waiting for us someplace else, but everything else about it feels very familiar.
And for our beautiful, amazing friends, they're not excited about these things. They are still trying to make eye contact with the idea of us leaving. They're mourning. They want to savor the time we have left, and to enjoy these last few weeks of outings and other Lasts with us. It's not that I don't also feel that loss, but that it's weighing more heavily on them right now. (And this is lens 2.) They aren't ready to get excited about whatever New Mexico has to offer us because it's all just reminders that we're leaving.
We are so very fortunate. Our friends here really do comprise that kind of Once In A Lifetime group -- vastly different women from different backgrounds and personalities and perspectives, but all incredibly supportive of one another and loving toward one another. Each one of them is the kind of person you'd consider yourself blessed to have just one of in your life, and we've all managed to find each other! And the kids! Oh, this group of kids! Without fail, every one of them is loved and cherished not only by each other, but by each of the moms in the group. That's a pretty incredible cadre to have in your life. And here we are, breaking up the band. And that's sad. It really is.
So it felt good to get a handle on where the dissonance was stemming from. I'm not looking forward to leaving them, even though there is much that I am looking forward to in the coming months. And they have many things they are looking forward to, but our leaving isn't among them. How to thread that needle is a little tricky, but I feel like I have a better grasp on how to do it now. So that was a relief.
And now, hopefully, I can merge the two lenses so that I don't feel like I'm going to be so dizzy I topple over. And hopefully, too, I can help my precious friends feel supported and loved on in the way the need to be.
Be encouraged!
~ Dy