The Glory of the Ordinary

It was a normal day. Just me and the kids. Piles of laundry, endless dishes, math to learn, bills to pay.

A normal day in January.

The thing that I have noticed is that circumstances don't have to determine my mood, though they try. Nothing big happened, but I determined to enjoy it.

I was even out of coffee.

I didn't need to brag about my domestic skills.
I didn't need to debate any stance.
I didn't need to prove my competence.
I didn't need to make my kids smart to avoid judgment.
I didn't need to feed into perfection.
I got to watch them play.
I was able to dictate the stories they wrote.
I was pampered with undercooked omelets.
I witnessed childhood bliss.
I rejoiced at their knowledge of fractions.

I hugged. I took it all in. I saw the glory of the ordinary.

 

 

So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God's Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, "Abba, Father." -Romans 8:15

Soup Math

Let's face it. Some kids are just better students than others. I was one that was an "other". It amazes me that out of four, only one of my own children struggles with reading and math worksheets as much as I did.

Ironically, I love to read and do math now. Makes me wonder if it wasn't the reading and math that was the problem. At any rate, I am sure that I was a classroom teacher's thorn in the flesh.

With this in mind, I decided that maybe the problem wasn't my student, but the teacher. I have always felt that a good photographer can take a picture of a trash heap and make it look beautiful. In the same way, a good teacher can take a struggling student and make them feel accomplished.

I am not saying that I have succeeded entirely, but I am making the effort. Where does this student shine? The kitchen, no doubt. Worksheets and math drills frustrate her to no end, but in the kitchen, everything she touches turns to.. well, something yummy.

The kitchen is our classroom, and soup is our lesson. I took one of our go-to soup recipes of which I have not taken a look at the recipe in years. I simply dump everything together. Her assignment was to write the recipe with measurements. Here are the steps we took:

1. I handed her a pot for soup and told her to measure the water that we would start with. The pot would be about 2/3 full.

2. We had three potatoes, all about the same size. We weighed each potato and discovered that they were all within one ounce of each other in weight.

3. I explained what AP (as purchased) and EP (edible portion) meant. We weighed one onion straight from the onion sack. Then, I cut up the onion and we weighed it one more time. We discovered that the onion lost 1 ounce of weight after the skin was shed.

4. We had two frozen bags of green beans. Each weighed one pound as stated on the bag, so we did a quick calculation of what 2 bags would weigh.

4. She cut up a ham into cubes and weighed the total amount that was to be put in the soup.

5. We estimated the amount of spices that we would put in, keeping in mind that we would taste test after simmering and add more if needed. In the end, did not feel that was necessary.

6. Then, I had her take her notes and write out the recipe. I figured since this was the first time, I would just see how she did, then when we do this next time I would encourage her to add detail. This is her recipe:

3 and 1/4 quarts water in a large pot. Let it boil, and then put in 3 11 or 12 ounce potatoes and a 4 ounce (EP) onion. Let it cook for 5 minutes. Then, put in 1 pound and 2 ounces of ham and 2 pounds of green beans. After that, put in one tsp pepper and one tsp salt. And one tbsp. ground savory. Let it simmer.

And guess what? Supper was done as well!

Writing Therapy

Last night, I worked too late and got too tired and started thinking about the off again- on again stomach aches, runny noses, irritability, and suddenly had an overwhelming fear that we were all dying from carbon monoxide poisoning.  I was dead tired, but couldn't get it off my mind at all until I realized that my fear was so intense it had to be a lie.

Even so, I woke up tired, which means a slow morning. I managed to grab a yogurt and sprinkle some granola on it for breakfast. That was about the time one of my girlies ran to the refrigerator and asked if she could eat the yogurt she had picked out. Oops.

I started working on my Sunday school lesson, but then decided that if I was going to teach my children anything today, I'd better get on it. We started with the Bible lesson, as I often try to do. It was about the time when Jesus sat in the synagogue and read from the prophets, ending in "today this scripture is fulfilled". I looked at my children, half paying attention and said, "You are not getting this!" I so badly wanted them to understand the significance of Jesus revealing that He was the Messiah in his hometown. My brain was saying, "they are 10... ish. Of course they don't get it. But my mouth would not stop. I got my preach on. I should have been standing at a pulpit. By the end, I was almost yelling.

"The people of Nazareth would not believe Him, but others did. WHY?"
One timid response, "because he healed the sick?"
"YES! Because He proved it in His actions! So when you say you are a Christian, can people see it in your actions? In the store, when you are fighting?? ARE YOU A CHRISTIAN??
*timid nods*
"THEN START ACTING LIKE IT!" After a long pause, I decided that should be enough lecture for the day.

Savannah then told us about her Roald Dahl Book where his Priest kept teaching about forgiveness and mercy, but when someone did something wrong, he'd whip them with a cane. She said that the priest was really good at whipping, but I really can't hurt anyone. I told her I'd practice more, then.

We reviewed our root words from yesterday, which included medi, which can make the derivative "mediator".

About then, they told me they were hungry. Pshaw. I wasn't. I'd just finished breakfast.

They made quesadillas while I made a phone call. Of course, they had a knock down drag out fight while I was on the phone. After a while, I came in to talk it out. Then I declared what a great mediator I was.

After lunch, we put skeletons together so we could learn about bones. Our new favorite word is phalanges. After a lot of chaos and several tears shed, the girls each named their skeleton and hung them on the wall. I went to find the camera so I could take a picture with each next to their large skeletons, but I had no idea where the camera is. Sill don't.

More drama, hurt feelings, tears.

Max and I made butter with the mixer, and after I was splattered all over by the buttermilk, I remembered that Savannah had made me an apron for Christmas.

Later, we experimented with popcorn. However, we mis-read the directions and didn't do the prep work correctly so that did not get finished till after supper. We made three batches of popcorn on the stove while I was shaking the wok with five kids crowded around me to watch it pop. Did you know popcorn pops because there is water in it? And did you know that three batches is super painful to the arms?

A quarrel over who gets to blow out the scented candles.

At this point, I am exhausted, I have done two loads of dishes and expecting at least one more when I realize that if we are to eat sandwiches tomorrow, we need bread. Is there really such a thing as a clean kitchen? Please tell me no.

Because I am too distracted to deal with bed time, the kids make up a game called "guess who is in the eggroll", where one person leaves the room and the others roll themselves up in a blanket like an eggroll. When they are done, the first person has to guess who is in which eggroll.

So, we skip my read-aloud time so my already aching arms can knead the bread. What? No Kitchen-Aid stand mixer, you say? No. I work 15 hours a day FOR FREE. I have to save up for new socks.

And as we prepare for bed, one of my darlings said, "Mom, do you remember what you said about acting like Christians? We didn't do so good today."

Secretly, Mom is just excited that something stuck in their heads.

You know, once in a while someone will tell me that their cousin or aunt homeschools and will tack on the end, "but I think it is because she is too lazy to send her kids to school." I guess it is possible, but highly improbable.

In any event, it all is worth it.