As a writer, white space can be unnerving.   Looking at the blank page, or monitor as the case may be, can just make you feel so inadequate. What things do I have to say that can fill this page?   Will my words impact others for the good, or will they even know they’ve read the letters on the page?   Can I really put the depths of my heart into mere words for all to see? Some days, the words just.don’t.come.

When I first started scrapbooking I thought every page had to be a piece of art. Stunningly beautiful, telling stories with the photos and embellishments and all the stuff that IS scrapbooking.   I’d spend hours trying to get a single page to look just so, making sure there was no white space, because clearly that spoke of an unfinished layout.   Over time I’ve changed my mindset on this.   Now that I have two children’s lives to document, I have begun to embrace the white space, choosing rather to add little pops of color to contrast against the white space and draw the eye.

I’ve recently started to dabble in the world of art journaling.   I’m clearly out of my element here, because I have to draw and write and paint and…someone shoot me now.   I have an entire Pinterest board set aside specifically for art journaling.   As I look through these colorful, glitzy pins and see how others have swirled and collaged and layered, my mind seizes up with the fact that I can’t do all that.

But then…I see it. In all of those colorful journals and strikingly beautiful layouts, I see it. White space.   It is the white space that really makes the colors pop and become more noticeable. Even the tiniest amount of white space on a dazzling colorful page makes that page light up.

And, so it is with our lives.   It is the white space of our lives that make those red lipstick moments stand out.   It’s the white space of the 3am feedings and all night rockings with a sick child that illuminate the “Hi, Mom” when they find themselves in front of a TV camera.   It’s the white space of hours of late night prayer for a childless friend that shines into the pink and blue hues of a newborn layette years down the road. It is the white space of a listening ear and a nod of the head that bursts through to radiate the silvery hues of a widow as she talks about her lost love.

White space is not to be feared, it is a gift.   Embrace today’s white space in your life. Knowing that it is those ordinary days that give way to the sunrise of tomorrow.

Death. Grief. At some point, we all face losing someone we love. The process of grieving, especially for those very close to us, is difficult. As I write this, it has only been a week since I lost my father. I have lost people close to me before. It is difficult each time, but this time it feels different. I could see the other times. How does being blind make a difference this time? Well, it probably isn’t just the sight. Helen Keller said something very true once. “Blindness separates one from objects. Deafness separates one from people.” Now, Deaf people may disagree a little because they have a visual language that allows them connection to people, at least other people who sign. They also can connect through writing with those who can’t sign, but it is a little more disconcerted. I think I can add that, when you are DeafBlind, you are separated from the world.

I do everything in the Dark Silence. I now find that I must even grieve there, too. My father has been ill for many years, but his death still seemed to come suddenly. He became unresponsive late one night. Hospice agency (which for my dad was for more long-term, terminal care) sent over a nurse who found he was only worsening and called for an ambulance. I only found out late the next morning when I turned on my devices and checked Facebook. It is not anyone’s fault. It is just that my devices depend on the internet and that includes a phone type device, so I can use a braille display. There are just times, especially at night, when I am unreachable for the most part, even with advances in technology. Even though it couldn’t be helped, I felt left out. I felt like the last to know.

Visiting my father had always been difficult for many reasons, so I didn’t get to see him often. When I did, it consisted of me just sitting there next to him, unable to do much in talking. We tried interpreters, but that is expensive and few are available here. My husband tried typing to me, so I could read in braille, but that was hard, too, for similar reasons. It is slow, and Daddy was hard to understand at times. Even my phone calls had to stop because the call facilitators started saying they couldn’t do the job. They were very apologetic, but they couldn’t interpret. Visits didn’t prove to be much better other than the pleasure of just touching and letting Daddy know I cared. As Daddy was in the hospital those last days, I wanted to go see him, but it wasn’t easy. I can’t drive, and my husband has to work and keeps little leave time because he has to do his errands and take me for mine, too. The weekend would be my time, but my husband became very sick just before the weekend and was sick all that weekend. Fortunately, I have wonderful friends even though I haven’t seen them in a few years. I keep up with even my local friends on Facebook. A couple came and took me to the ICU where I was able to talk to my dad. It was uncomfortable for them because they could only communicate with me through print-on-palm which is where you draw capital letters on the palm for me to feel. It works, but it isn’t as easy as hearing a voice, of course. My husband was able to take me a second time which proved to be the last because he died the next afternoon. I am thankful for those visits, and everyone who made it possible. I would have been there even if I couldn’t talk to him, just to hold his hand, but I am ever so grateful that I still have a voice, so I could tell him what he meant to me and how much I love him.

Now, the grieving process continues. I was unable to be with family much because of transportation and communication problems. That meant I was alone when I would have preferred to be with family to do the normal processing of talking about memories, sharing feelings, and encouraging each other. Yes, I had my husband when he didn’t have to work. He was great, but he didn’t know my father well. He didn’t grow up with him. The sharing was a bit one-sided. His support was great, but we do better with more connections with family. I don’t have that. It isn’t their fault. It isn’t mine. It just is what it is. I spent a few hours with them before the memorial service, but other than a hug here and a word fingerspelled through the help of my husband, I sat and thought my own thoughts and processed as best as I could. My sister, Traci, was great. She often would touch my hand, so I would know she was there and feel connected. My mother tried, but her own grief was pulling her inward. I could and did say I love you, but she could only say it to me through someone else. The connections were good and warmly felt, but they were still indirect. A fleeting touch or hug or gentle kiss in the sea of Dark Silence that normally is warm and peaceful now become battering and stormy. I felt like I was drowning in the dark waves.

Truthfully, though,I realize that the last couple of weeks isn’t where the process of grieving started. When our loved ones get older, we instinctively cherish our times together even more. I know that even as a young, immature girl of 20, married with an infant, when my great-grandmother was getting closer to dying, I was smart enough to recognize that and visited her on my own every week if not more often. I loved to talk to my granny and loved even more to listen to her stories. Years later, I was even more aware as my grandmother aged and would plan days to spend with her and take her to buy groceries or to the doctor. When she was diagnosed with cancer, I stepped in with her children and took my turn along with them staying with my grandmother when she needed constant care. I cherish the memories of just spending time with her and then helping to serve her in every way I could in her last ailing days. I know that I would have visited my father more, on my own, if I could drive. I would also have spent more time helping to take care of him in the last years that he needed more care. As before, I would have cherished that time. Things are so different now, and I don’t even know if people remember that I loved to care for my loved ones and that I would have done it if I could have. I don’t feel guilt because guilt implies fault or the making of a wrong choice. The problems of being DeafBlind are not anyone’s fault and isn’t a choice anyone would make. No, it is sadness for what I missed, for what I lost.

So, you see, the loss goes further, and the process of grieving did start long before those last couple of weeks. I know what it is like to cherish moments of time and service to loved ones in their last earthly days. I missed that with my father because of the Dark Silence. I missed the direct connections I could have had with family in the last few days, though, I do cherish the gentle touches, hugs, and kisses that I could receive. I also would like to think that my direct connections with my father and my family during these times were missed, too, as I know it isn’t one-sided. I think we give as much as we receive in this process of connecting during loss and grieving and both are equally important. Yes, we all missed the goodness and the healing that comes with direct connection and communication.That saddens me even more. I just hope that my family knows and understands that I do recognize what is missed and will do what I can to connect through the ways I do have available to me.

Now, don’t think that I didn’t and don’t have ways to communicate. I do in the forms of technology and interpreters; but technology is finicky and clunky, and interpreters are expensive and limited. In the better times, technology is helpful and useful, but most people don’t like to type to communicate in person even if they spend a lot of time typing on social media. It feels cold and uncomfortable. During times of stress and pain, talking verbally is often hard, so trying to type is almost unbearable. Interpreters are very helpful and by far my best mode of communication, but you can’t have them for extended periods. I had two during the actual memorial service and the few minutes after for people to come speak their words of condolences. The rest of the time could not be provided. To have the two I had, especially on short notice, the women had to drive a hundred miles one way. I love the fact that I have technology available to me, and I really love the more direct connection and ease of communicating through interpreters, but there are still times you just don’t have what you need or can’t use it well and easily. In those times, I do feel alone. The Dark Silence seems to be vast, deep, and impenetrable.

It is just those moments, though. Through social media, emails, braille and print cards, and text messages, my friends and family have let me feel their overwhelming love. They check on me daily with encouraging words, reminders to eat well, and scripture and typed prayers to not only sustain me, but to lift me up and keep me afloat as the storm of grief swells around me. I hope that my own posts and messages of remembrances of my father and words of comfort and typed prayers are doing the same for my family. It isn’t the best connection, but it is a good connection, nonetheless. Grieving is a process, and these typed words of love will get us through the painful memories of loss to the joyful reminiscence of cherished moments.

I may be saddened, but I am not destroyed. The Dark Silence will become peaceful and comforting again. This moment shall pass because I have memories of my father to cherish and faith in a mighty God who loves me and provided a gift that my father and I have accepted that will allow me to see and be with my father again in Heaven with our Savior, Christ Jesus. That lesson of faith came from my father and is but one set of the memories I have of him to sustain me until we are together again. Even in this Dark Silence, the hope is there. It only seems stormy right now because of my immediate pain of loss, but Jesus is still there lifting me above the stormy waves through family and friends and His Holy Spirt. In time, He will calm the waters of the Deaf Silence again as I cling tightly to His hand.

In memory of my father, Dr. Joseph Aaron Kelley, Sr, a good and faithful servant as a father, husband, minister, and educator. Daddy always taught me that with Christ we can overcome any adversity and failing and be used of God for glory. It is in our weakness that God can use us to show His strength and faithfulness. Let me be well-used.

Being a mother is hard work. I have three young children and this season is the hardest season I have ever lived. There is no sleeping in. I can barely balance the house work, the children’s schooling, my job, being an attentive wife, and getting “me time.” There is no doubt: being a mother is not for the faint of heart! I have suffered from anxiety issues and there were times when my mothering ability was only barely a passable grade. I have made efforts, since having my third child, to slow down and enjoy my life. The best way for me to achieve peace of mind was to focus it on the positives in life.

Step one for me was to stop with the negativity. I stopped the negative self talk. I was not less of a person because there was clean laundry unfolded on the couch. I was not a bad mom because the kids were eating hot dogs for lunch for a week. I was not a bad wife because I asked my husband to vacuum the living room after he got home from a long day at work. I was not a bad worker because I had to take a day off because I was sick. These things are all a part of my life, but they did not define me. I stopped putting myself down and started to build myself up. (more on that in a minute)

Step two for me was to lower expectations. I knew I couldn’t do it all. I had to ask my husband for help around the house, and I made sure that most of the house cleaning would happen on the weekends, so that the week we could be on coast-mode and maintain the house close to where we left it on the weekend.

Step three for me was to focus on my life now and enjoy it. With all the stress in our lives, it is so easy to just want to be in the next stage. I used to always say “I can’t wait until….” Fill in the blank. I can’t wait until the vacation, the kids are potty trained, I am no longer pregnant, we win a million dollars. It never ends! If you are constantly waiting for the next thing to happen, you are never living in the present. That ended with me when I decided to focus on what my favorite things in my life right now.

Tigerlilies. I love the summer. I love tigerlilies. They are the ultimate sun lover! I love lazy summer days when the kids are playing in the baby pool or the water hose. It is in these moments that I can see them make memories with each other that will last their lives. Summer days are the best!

Ballet class. Taking my daughter to ballet class is usually my husband’s job; but, when she comes home and tells me about dance class, I make an effort to give her my full attention. Her dance class is the highlight of her week, so I want to give her all of me when she talks to me about it. She dances for me and shows me her moves. I get to see this little girl light up and grow in her self-confidence. She teaches me so much in her actions.

Music. I teach music; but, even more so, I live music. If I am ever having a rough day I can put some music on and it will change my entire outlook on life. What is even better is that I can now share this with my children. We listen to the music together and we can dance, create art, discuss, sing, or otherwise engage in meaningful activities that focus on each other. We can connect without talking.

Crafting. My favorite time to give myself is when I craft. Whether I am cross-stitching, crocheting, drawing, coloring, painting, etc., I am giving myself time to reconnect to the person I truly am. I am a creative person in need of an outlet. When I forget to channel that creativity, I get lost and my anxiety gets worse. It is important to maintain myself by keeping my hands busy.

Reading. I love to read and share in this by reading books aloud to my children. I will never say no to a read aloud day. We like to pack our bags and spend an entire afternoon at the library some days. We come home with 15 books and we read through them together in just a day or two. I love filling their heads with stories! My older son is a sponge and remembers everything he reads. I enjoy talking to him about the books he reads and having meaningful conversations. He is growing so fast and I just want to slow it down a moment.

I urge you to make a list of your favorite things. Take time to focus on one of them a day. Enjoy the season your life is in right now. Slow down, breathe, and live for today.

Last fall I somehow ended up on a parent email list for a 3rd grade elementary class at a nearby public school which shall remain nameless. I’ve requested to be taken off the list a number of times, but that hasn’t happened. So once a week, I receive a note from a teacher who doesn’t teach my kids. (For the record, I have a 5th grader and a freshman.) Notes like the one I received a few days ago remind me again why my wife and I home school. Here’s the full text of the email. It was entitled, “A Pretty Rough Week.”

Hello 3rd Grade Families, I wanted to let you know that our class has had a pretty rough week in regards to behavior. The students lost their recess last Friday due to the fact that they were not following the lunch aides directions to line up quietly for lunch. Although the students have been doing much better in the lunch line, they continue to get poor reports during specials, and are still having trouble lining up and walking quietly through campus. During Music, P.E., and Library this week the students have been in trouble for not following directions, talking while the teacher is talking, and moving around the classrooms without permission. Although this is not every student in my class, it is many of them. I have talked with my class many times since spring break about working together to be the best class we can be. Many students lost stickers from their specials teachers this week (which is not a normal occurrence). I know the weather is changing and the students are very excited and energetic, but I would greatly appreciate it if you could sit down and remind them of their role as a student at [SCHOOL NAME LEFT OUT]. I know we can make this a great quarter if we all work together Please feel free to email or call me if you have any further questions or concerns. THANK YOU!

Wow! Did that take any of you back to your 3rd grade class? There are so many items in here to talk about, but I want to quickly discuss just one. Near the end of the note, the teacher references the weather and her excited and energetic students. Then she asks for the parents help in calming them down and for the parents to, “remind them of their role as a student…” Their role as a student?!?! In other words, your kid has ants in his (or her) pants and I can’t get them to cooperate! Do something!

This would be funny if it weren’t so sad. Public schools want kids to behave like compliant worker bees in a factory, doing tasks according to the school schedule, not moving without permission, and for goodness sakes – don’t disrupt the learning environment by being excited and energetic! Parents, as you head into this week, remember why you home school; and, when your students are excited and energetic this week, don’t make them lose their recess and make sure they don’t cut in the lunch line!

Spring is in the air; well it should be, anyway. Who knows what this crazy weather will bring. Where I live, it is usually nice out and it may get hotter or cooler depending on the month. Our winter is very mild and cool; spring is rainy, windy, and nice; summer is hot; fall may be cool, but still nice.

In one week, my 11 year old may wear pants with a light jacket one day, shorts with short sleeves the next day, and a tank top, shorts, and flip flops the next day. Sometimes I wish that we lived in an area that had distinctive seasons, but then I see how others have tons of snow while we are running around in shorts. I guess everywhere has its advantages and disadvantages.

There isn’t a season that I don’t like, so today I wanted to share my top ten reasons for enjoying spring.

1. The flowers. I love to see the beautiful new flowers starting to bloom all around. They smell wonderful and really put me into a good mood. I can’t seem to keep flowers alive, but I love to look at what others have grown.
2. Easter. Easter is a favorite around here. From coloring eggs, to egg hunts, there is fun all around. We focus on God, but still take part in a lot of fun activities.
3. Fresh air. Spring time is usually when the house can be open. We don’t need the air conditioner or heater going so the windows can be open and fresh air can fill the house.
4. Day light. I hate changing the clocks in the fall. I don’t like that we lose an hour of sleep when the clocks change in the spring, but I do love the fact that it is lighter later into the day. AJ can ride her bike longer, and I can run errands longer without being in the dark.
5. They say April showers bring May flowers. I am not sure how true that saying is, but I love the rain. I love to listen to it, and smell the freshness after the rain. We are currently in a drought so we can use any rain that comes our way.
6. Birthdays. May is a busy month for us. It is AJ’s birthday, my grandma’s birthday, my birthday, and Mother’s day. Even if we don’t do much it is a fun time of year.
7. Spring Break. We don’t do anything special for spring break, but it usually means that AJ’s friends are able to come over and spend some time with her. Between school, sports, and life we don’t get to see her friends as often as we would like. When the public school is out that means more time for friends.
8. Fruit prices go down. Spring and summer bring affordable fruit prices. I am the mean mom who won’t pay for grapes and strawberries unless they are on sale. Spring time is when we start to see 99 cents a pound sales and we enjoy a greater variety of fruit.
9. The birds. Listening to the birds out your window, and seeing them fly by just make the day a little bit better.
10. Summer is just around the corner. Summer here means swimming and spring time means that we are that much closer to jumping into the pool. We could live in the pool and often spend hours swimming. If we have a warm spring we might even get to swim before the season officially changes.

Springtime might not be your favorite time of year, but try to find some good in it.

What is your favorite season?

“I am not in control – and I never was.”

The realization of this thought, the one I held so tightly with a grip that squeezed the life out of me some days, was a slap in the face. “I am not in control. How do I let go? How do I trust? How do I do this and trust I will survive?”

The day that this thought rocked my world, I was a seasoned wife and mother, as seasoned as you can be in your forties. I sat in my quiet place, looking back on the orchestration of events, choices, and “only God” moments I was trusted to experience.

At the beginning, I was given a gift that so many never experience. I was given life! Adopted at birth by a man and a woman that were destined to be my parents, my only parents, they raised me with a love that proved God was there all along.

Spring.

Along the way friendships came and went, and proved to be blessings and curses.

Spring. Winter.

Trips of a lifetime would change my path forever.

Summer.

My little salvation story in the place they call the ‘doorway to God’ would be my pilgrimage, my journey into adulthood.

Fall, Winter, Spring and Summer

Love, true love, death and marriage, children and parenting —all a life traveling along a path with a God I met when I was 15 years old. He had been there all along. Through all my adventures. Through every season. Through all my challenges and even my rebellion, My Lord had been orchestrating my life with a Love and Precision I never REALLY knew was His until that day, in my quiet time. “Trust. I trusted, even in those moments I thought I could not go another day. I survived. Lord, Thank you.”

The steps were laid out for me to walk through, orchestrated by the hand of a Loving Savior, and yet in my ignorant youth I found my mind thought I knew best. Now I know better. Now I am finding a peace that I never knew possible. My heart trusts in the Lord with every step, no matter how difficult. I must trust.

The other day a mom sent me a note on Facebook asking what she should do. She homeschools her two boys and one is about to start high school. He had been begging her to send him to public school after all their years of home education. I could sense the pressure and the distress in her note when I received her cry for some nugget of help. “What should I do?”

Only from my own experiences could I answer.

First, trust the Spirit of God in you to know what is right for your child, for this circumstance, for this season. Trust that the Lord has laid a path for you both to follow and all you have to do is rest in the Lord, seek Him, and He will answer you in due season. Don’t give up until you know that you know.

Second, the seasons of raising a teen are not easy. It seems at every turn there is a battle in waiting because their flesh wants to dictate their choices. Sometimes, even for our children, there are times in the valley. These are the times they are lonely, confused, and don’t understand why they are where they are. These are the times we, as their parents, step in with what wisdom we have lived out, and share our hearts with them. As my pastor always says, “Yes the grass may be greener on the other side, but you still have to water it.” This is the time to minister to your child[ren] and teach them how to ‘go through’ the different seasons of life. Not all seasons are easy. Not all seasons are filled with life or warmth and growth. Not all seasons reap a harvest. Just as we trust God to answer our prayers while we wait on His timing for a mate, children, a job, etc. this is a time to wait with patient endurance, teaching our child[ren] to be patient in this season of their life. God has a plan. God is in control.

Life is a slow roast. The more I cook my roast in my crock pot the more tender and juicy and tasty it becomes. The wait, as I smell the goodness and see the goodness to come, can be unbearable. But, when the time comes, I reap the delicious flavor and nourishment I so greatly desired. It was all worth it in the end.

I’m currently teaching an Introduction to Digital Photography class at our local co-op. It’s a TON of work on top of my normal schedule because I’m not following a textbook, I’m just developing the class as I go along. And it’s definitely contributing to a whole different sort of “March Madness” in my house as I juggle this class and our normal homeschool demands. But one thing I’ve noticed is that, in trying to be a good photography teacher to these kids, I’m becoming a better photographer myself. In a way, the teacher becomes the student as you spend so many hours immersed in your subject – pulling together the best resources, finding great examples of every concept I want them to learn, going out and taking picture after picture myself to demonstrate each lesson – it is really making me know my subject well. And God has a message for all of us: the same idea holds true no matter what the subject. That which we devote our time to is what we will become better at or know best.

The conversation started out innocently enough. I was sharing my concerns about my youngest child’s learning struggles with my husband. I shared all that I am doing with her. All the “right” things. All the brain training and crossing the midline exercises and special curriculum, and how all of that still wasn’t yielding the results I had hoped to see: a child who could confidently read anywhere close to on “grade level.” (I’m not one to get hung up on such things when they are young, but at 10 those deficits start to be glaringly apparent in peer groups causing self-esteem issues.) Anyway, he, being a man, started in trying to “fix” the problem with some suggestions, and I found myself bristling. Why? Because everything he was suggesting we had already tried, with no success. He just didn’t know because I am there all day and he is not, and I study her all day, and he doesn’t get to because he is at work all day, and God used that moment to make me see that just like the photography class, I know my daughter better than anyone else because I have studied her more than anyone else. I have worked with her more than anyone else. I have seen her struggle and fail and struggle some more and finally succeed more than anyone else because, as a homeschool mom, I am immersed in HER. Sure, there may be others out there with therapies that would be helpful to her, and nothing says we can’t use them; but no one will ever know her better than me, except God Himself, and (the Lord willing) her husband someday.   I needed that reminder.

The same is true of our relationship with God. The more time we take in His word, the more time we spend in the company of His people, the more time we spend serving the world, the better at it we will become and the more we will know Him. That was Paul’s goal, you know. He talks about it in Philippians 3, and says it directly in Philippians 3:10, “that I may know Him…” It’s easy in the madness of March or April or May or (does it ever really slow down?) to think that we will get to it someday. But that which we honor with our time is what is truly important to us. If you looked at a record of how you spent your time yesterday, how much time would God have, and how much time would your smart phone have? Or if not your smart phone then whatever your vice is. The point is that we become better at something by doing it over and over again. By reading about it. By studying it. By seeing what experts in the field have to say about it. By practicing it. How much of that do we do for God? How much of our time and energy and effort do we give Him and how amazing would it be if the answer was all of it? Or even most of it? That same passion that drives us to help our child become the best soccer player they can be or to overcome a learning problem should also drive us to a relationship with our Lord and Savior because His passion for you drove Him to death on a cross that you might live.

So maybe you are the homeschool mom who just needs the reminder that you know your kids better than anyone else. They are your subject, and you are well versed in them. You could teach this class with your eyes closed, so trust yourself and that hard-gained wisdom, and know that no one knows your kids better than you. But maybe you are the child of God who needs to be reminded that He loves you. You are HIS favorite subject. He’s well versed in you, too. But He’d like you to make Him your magnificent obsession. To get to know Him by heart. You can’t imitate Christ if you don’t know Him forward and backwards, and we are to be imitators of Christ. Not sure where to start? It has been said the best way to learn something well is to teach it, and so I offer you this in parting:

Or to offer another bit of advice from scripture, “Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6. Teach, and you will learn!

Well, we’ve officially started the homeschool convention circuit. Last weekend, we were in Washington and this weekend we’ll be in Utah.

We love traveling around encouraging homeschool parents (they need it after all). It’s given us an interesting perspective as we talk to moms and dads of all backgrounds across our great country. The thing I’m always struck by is how much we are alike.

It doesn’t matter what your accent is, what you see out your window, or how much money you make…homeschoolers are homeschoolers. We all face the same pressures (external and internal), desire to have godly children, and try harder than anyone. That should offer some kind of warped comfort, knowing that we are all in the same boat.

But I have noticed a small minority of homeschoolers who have added pressures and hear particularly loud lies…and that’s single homeschooling moms.

I meet some at just about every conference. They walk up to me alone, as though they’ve been waiting for the crowds to disperse so they can talk in the shadows. Often times they have tears in their eyes and begin their comments by saying, “I’m a single mom.”

I listen to their questions and concerns and then say with confidence, “You’re still the best mom for your children and if you want to do school at home, then do it.”

The basic truths behind homeschooling are STILL true for single homeschooling moms. Home is the best place for your children and YOU are the best teacher of your children.

If you’re a single mom, you need to cling to those truths. You need to stop listening to those around you who say, “Don’t you think it would be better for your kids to be with other kids? You can’t do it all…your plate is too full…you’re not able to give them all they need….”

Mom, stop listening to those LIES!!!! If you believe you should be homeschooling, then YOU SHOULD be homeschooling. Find some friends who will encourage you in those truths and stick to them like gum on a shoe. Post those truths where you can see them every day. Remind your children of those truths so they can remind you.

Go ahead and look for internet helps and lower your expectations of what you might cover…but know this – You ARE enough and your kids will be better off because you had them home.

BTW – If you’re a single mom, contact me and I’ll send you an audio CD of This We Believe for FREE.

Only the truth,

Todd

PS – You can see my speaking schedule here

There are times in my life when the minutes seem to go by like hours. When the time it takes to read about the crossing on the Mayflower seems equivalent to the actual time it took to DO the crossing on the Mayflower. (Can you feel me, homeschool moms?) But then there are other times when the frenetic pace of life makes it seem like entire months go by in the blink of an eye. When the busyness of getting everyone where they need to get and keeping up with everything I need to keep up with and still finding quite time with God takes all I’ve got and more. In those times, I need to find balance and to remember that it’s often easy to let the good become the enemy of the excellent, and it’s the excellent that God desires.

I once heard a parable about how we all juggle balls. Those balls might be things like our family, our pets, our volunteer work, our jobs, our friends, our good intentions, our home duties (like laundry and dishes, etc.), our leisure time, our passions, our relationship with our Savior, and on and on. And that’s not even breaking them down into smaller components like projects at work or in the home or a friend’s baby shower or being “team mom” for soccer or carpooling to co-op or doctor’s appointments or making time to plant the garden or pull the weeds or all the other little things that get added in. Anyway, the main gist is that there are two kinds of “balls” that we juggle- rubber and glass.

As the name implies, rubber balls will bounce if you let them drop. If you can’t be team mom this time around, someone else will have to, or there just won’t be a team mom. If you miss the doctor’s appointment (and you aren’t medically fragile) you can reschedule, although it might cost you a small fee. If you don’t do the laundry today, unless you are truly minimalistic, chances are there really is something else to wear to hold you over a day or two. And some balls can bounce and you will never even notice it. Oops, we didn’t get all our leaves from the backyard to the curb for curbside pickup in the fall. But you know what? The lawn mower will mulch those leaves quite nicely in the spring, or we can rake them to the rubbish pile in the back- catastrophe averted.   Rubber balls are frequently “good things”- piano lessons, basketball, birthday parties, helping other with projects they have taken on, planting a garden – but when they overtake your schedule and leave you feeling overwhelmed, then they are actually not “good” anymore, and they are the enemy of the excellent.

So what is excellent? Your glass balls are excellent. Your glass balls are the things that would break if you dropped them. First and foremost is your relationship with God. If that relationship is maintained, you will have a much easier time keeping the proper perspective on all your other demands, so you need to spend time in the Word every day. Next, your marriage is a glass ball. God says of marriage that two become one. The word for that means like superglue. You can’t separate one from the other without damage. So you MUST preserve your marriage. It will shatter if dropped. Your children are glass balls. Being who God called you to be is a glass ball. You are unique, and you were created for a unique purpose. No one can be you but you. Other glass balls may come and go- a dying relative, an urgent project, the neediness of a newborn- but when you start asking God to help you prioritize your day according to His “to-do” list, you may just find that many of your “good” things really are getting in the way of your excellent ones.

In my own life, I just had to walk away from a Bible study. What? Did you read that right? Yes, I said I had to walk away from a Bible study. In the grand scheme of things, it was actually the 4^th weekly commitment to Bible study I was making (not counting church), all occurring each week. My activities at my own church and my Precept study were “first in” and most important to me, and I felt like this latest study, one from my homeschool co-op, was the literal straw that was going to break this camel’s back! Oh, to be a theologian and just be able to study God’s word all day! But I’m a homeschooling mom of four, one a special needs child making the transition to legal adulthood in the next few months. I’m also a wife and helpmeet. Those are my “jobs” first and foremost. They are what God has called me to do. And in my attempt to keep all my balls up in the air, some were getting thrown awfully wide and barely getting caught as they plummeted toward the Earth. The laundry was piling up. I hadn’t gone grocery shopping for over a week (with 6 people that means we were playing the “what shall I run and grab for dinner” game). Worse, I still hadn’t started a botany project with my youngest daughter that was due in a week. Something had to give. I prayed. I asked my accountability group to pray for me. And God clearly say, “Enough.” I quit the Bible study, and I felt like a giant weight was lifted off my shoulder. The good (because clearly Bible study is good) was an enemy to the excellent- doing well the things God has called me to do: the Bible studies I am already in, being a wife and mother, and being a homeschooling mom.

When life get crazy and it feels like wave after crashing wave is coming at us, we need to do what the apostles did in Luke 8:22-25, and look to Jesus for help. God says, “In repentance and rest you will be saved, in quietness and trust is your strength.” Jesus knows how to quiet the waves. He made them. And He made you. Pray about all the “balls” in your life, and ask God what can be dropped. Trust Him. In quietness and trust is your strength, not in trying to be all to all. In repentance and rest we are saved, not in doing more and more and more.  Don’t let all the good things in your life keep you from the excellent things of God. 1 Peter 2:12 tells us to keep our behavior excellent among the gentiles (nonbelievers). But we can’t do that if we are stressed out trying to keep up with all the “good” things in our life. As you strive to find balance in the busy seasons of your life, it’s usually not about making choices between the good and bad but making choices between the good and the excellent that will truly keep your heart in line with God’s plan and keep you in His perfect peace.

Still. I can’t believe we are still here. I’ve had that thought many times recently.

We got married nearly ten years ago while HubbaHubba was still a student at the local Bible college where we met. We had plans then. He was going to finish his schooling in the next two years, then we would be leaving Southwest Missouri when he took a position as a music minister in some terrific congregation. Our call was him to the ministry and me as a minister’s wife. And it wasn’t going to be with us staying here.

While finishing his last two semesters of college, HubbaHubba was offered a position as an associate minister at a congregation here in town. He graduated, he worked at the church part time and in retail full time to provide for his family which had quickly grown from just the two of us, to four with the birth of our eldest two children in less than 18 months. That ministry came to a close and we searched for a new position elsewhere. The more time passed, the further we looked from the places we thought were ideal.

Each time we applied for a position at a church, we would find out that it was already filled but the listing hadn’t been removed from the job boards they were posted on. Or we weren’t the right fit after an initial phone interview. I was getting frustrated and finances were really tight. Neither of us thought we would still be here after all this time. What about our plans? What about what we wanted? It wasn’t like we weren’t trying to do what we thought God’s plan was for us.

I didn’t want to stay here. I am a military brat so I’m used to moving on a regular basis. I was getting antsy staying here in town the longer we were here. In the course of the intervening years, I’ve learned that God has us where He wants us. Why we are still here, I still don’t know the exact answer to. However, for me, I’ve had to learn contentment. I have to make the most of where we are at now, and not put things off for “when we move.” We bought a house seven years ago next month. We are involved in our church (I volunteer wherever and HubbaHubba is the Deacon over technology). We’ve made a home. We have learned to live in the present, not in the unknown future.

Living in the now and not in a holding pattern has taken a lot of work on my part. I have to be intentional with making and keeping friends (something this military brat struggles greatly with). I have to watch myself that I don’t start lusting over the thought of moving elsewhere constantly (we are always open to the possibility of doing so). I have to make sure my children feel grounded in their hometown and have that stability instead of just shoving things off to do when we finally live elsewhere.

So, today I shall challenge you to seek being content in your situation. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want you to try and improve it, but to be content and not wishing for what you don’t have. Whether that is in regards to your car, a new phone, a new house or moving. For we won’t really appreciate the next thing if we can’t appreciate what we have now.

Nala is here! On a rainy, cold Monday afternoon in the middle of February, the van marked Southeastern Guide Dogs finally pulled into my driveway again. This time carrying a special cargo for me. The excitement was so intense and the pure joy was so overwhelming that my face couldn’t hide the glee despite a broken heart still reeling from the loss of my father just over a week before. These special cargoes can do that for a heart. This special cargo, named Nala, turned out to be a 45 pound golden-colored Goldador that didn’t walk down the sidewalk. Nala wiggled because her tail was wagging her entire body. Nala wiggled her way not just down that sidewalk, but wiggled straight into my gloomy heart, bursting it wide open with golden sunshine.

After I met Nala, it was time to introduce her to the rest of the family- new Daddy Scott, big sister Hartley, and big brother Little Joe. To do that properly to help avoid jealousy and possible strife or aggression, we brought the dogs out one at the time, first to sniff and see for just a few seconds. Despite the rain and cold, it is best to do this outside, so the dogs don’t feel territorial on their first meeting. After meeting both dogs separately, we bring everyone out including Daddy and all go for a family walk down the street for a bit. We didn’t have any problems, but we were on the lookout for any signs of aggression to instantly correct for it with a good, “NO!” There is only one alpha in this family pack, and that is me. After our walk, we walked in the house together showing that Nala is part of the family pack now which will help decrease the chance of aggression between the dogs. We must be watching, though, to make sure there isn’t any subtle growling or other dominant behavior. That is hard for me being DeafBlind, but I am constantly vigilant of any tension in the room. My husband will also be watching and listening for me, too. After we entered the house and got a few instructions from the trainer, we were left alone for the evening and night for me to begin bonding with Nala, which meant keeping her close and happy. Cuddle time! For now, since she isn’t mine yet, that means cuddling on the floor and not on couches or the bed. Cuddling is fun. Nala wiggled around showing off toys in her mouth saying, “Look at me. I’m wonderful, right?” Yes, you are wonderful, Nala!

For several weeks, to ensure that Nala only bonds to me, my husband has to ignore Nala which is hard to do because she wants attention from everyone. All feedings, busying (bathroom breaks), praise, and corrections must come from me. Nala will also be on a leash beside me during waking hours or tie down (restrained gently to a chair or hook in the baseboard) and crated at night. That bonding is important to make sure Nala looks to me for love and instruction and that she is looking to please me the most which is the foundation for a good working relationship. We also want Nala to only learn good habits, so exploration is supervised until she learns what is expected of her and what things she can’t bother. On leash, I can help her to learn that without her getting into trouble that would result in a harsh correction rather than a low and somewhat gentle “No!” or “Drop it”. Start them off right is the best policy. Harsh criticism in the early stages will only hinder her process of becoming part of our pack.

The training began bright and early the next morning. Well, not so bright because Nala must remain on school schedule until after the training period which means getting up at 6:30 a.m. for busying outside on leash on command, followed by breakfast. Busying on leash is important because when out working in public, restroom breaks must be done in certain places and at certain times and always on leash, as required by law, to always have your guide under your control. In order for the dog to feel comfortable doing their business with you standing close and then only when you give the command, so they are doing the busy in an appropriate place, you have to practice this often, and let it become a normal feeling. Nala was raised this way as was Little Joe from an early age, so they are used to doing it that way. As long as Nala is working, there are certain things we must continue to do to help her to always feel comfortable doing what is needed. Busying on leash on command is one of them. The on command part is even more important because she can’t just busy inside a store or even sometimes outside even if people walk there. I need to be able to walk her to an appropriate but out of the way place and say “Busy Busy” to let her know that it is ok to busy there. Of course, I never want her to have to be holding the business too long, so I always give her a busy opportunity before we go in a place and after we come out to help her work experience be comfortable from all aspects. Accidents have happened, though, if a dog suddenly becomes ill, but not only do I carry bags to pick up after my guides every time, anywhere, I also carry along cleaning and sanitizing materials in case of the rare accident. I also do not work my guide if I know they are sick or if the temperature is too hot for working, but sometimes we are both surprised. Our motto is like the Boy Scouts we used to be a part of, “Be prepared.”

The trainer arrived shortly after 7 am to begin our busy day of obedience exercises and short route work. Obedience is the exercises we do for a few minutes each day to practice basic commands of SIT, DOWN, STAY, COME, HEEL, etc. We don’t always include all of the commands because there are quite a few, but we do always include these basics ones. Each exercise involves giving the command, expecting prompt obedience, praise when done correctly, and correction, if done incorrectly. Correction is a firm, low, “NO!” The no can be followed by a quick tug on the leash if a No isn’t enough, or if the guide is waiting to see how many times they can ignore before having to obey. Dogs can be like children at times who want to test you. It is best to teach them that they should do what you ask the FIRST time you ask, not after the third time. Consistent, proper training always results in a happy and loving working relationship. Give your dog lots of love and praise and you will have a dog who loves to do as you ask to please you. I want my guides to want to work, not because they are forced to work. Neither of us would be happy that way. Southeastern Guide Dogs stresses this in word and in their methods. Praise often, so praise after each followed command and have a good praise party at the end of the obedience session and after working. Love them up for what they do for you.

Each day was a little different and with an increasing level of difficulty to allow Nala and I to transition together while we also continued our bonding. We began with short walks on the country road without a curb in front of my house and then moved on to sidewalk work on quiet streets in city neighborhoods to busy streets in commercial areas. Safety was always prime for me and Nala. Though DeafBlind and unable to see or hear traffic, I learned to let Nala help me along our paths, but my trainer was never more than a shoulder’s grab away from us to make sure we were never in any danger as we made our way around barriers, across broken sidewalks, through overhanging branches, narrow pathways with utility poles too close, crossing a busy intersection. Though Nala has been taught intelligent disobedience which means she has been taught to disobey me if the command I give will put myself or her in danger, I can’t rely on her to see or hear all dangers or even to perceive every type of danger. It is my responsibility to know my limitations, accept them, and stay within those limitations safely. Hearing blind listen at intersections to follow the traffic flow and know when it is safe to cross. I can’t do that, so I accept that I will always need sighted help when crossing streets and in certain areas. I’m ok with that. Helen Keller National Center for the DeafBlind has developed some techniques and resources to help the DeafBlind get that help even when the DeafBlind person travels alone using special signs that the DeafBlind person holds to get attention and requests someone to help them safely cross the street. That method works, and I have used it successfully myself when needed. With Nala, as with Little Joe, I accept that I will always need that help, so I will never travel alone or only in areas I know and using those methods I learned at HKNC.

Our training also included working in restaurants and in stores, using stairs and elevators. I personally chose not to be taught how to use escalators safely. That can be done if necessary, but there is always a danger to the dog, so I chose not to be taught that method with Nala. We will always avoid escalators. With Little Joe, we did learn the method and did it safely a few times in large cities when necessary, but it was never a comfortable experience. Knowing that I will probably never be in a situation again where an escalator is my only option, I feel it is best for us not to use the method. If it should happen, I will rely on my sighted companion to determine another route or ask the building managers to turn the escalator off to let us use it as a normal staircase to prevent injury. I pray I will never find a situation again where the escalator is the only option.

My trainer taught so many things by deed or in lecture which I got as emails to read in braille at night. We worked often during the day and even in the evening for seven packed days, despite the continuing cold and rain. During the coldest times, we found indoor work areas, but we worked rain or shine, cold or warm, indoors, and outdoors in as many kinds of settings as possible to give Nala exposure to as many of the environments that we will be working in while I had a trainer there to help us adapt to the setting and each other. It was a lot of hard work, and at times anxiety crept in which would travel down the leash to Nala making her nervous and hindered her working properly for a brief time, but together we faced each moment and worked through it because Nala is determined to help me.

Nala knows I can’t see, and she wants to help. I now know that she has begun to realize that I can’t hear, either, and is finding ways to help me there, too. At first, she would go to the door when she needed to go busy. Of course, I was taking her often to find her pattern at first, but I can’t hear her whine at all, so it wasn’t always obvious that she needed to go even on leash by my side. After a few days, I would let her off leash to play with me in the room while I gave her complete attention to make sure she didn’t bother things that might get broken or hurt her. Still even with that vigilant attention, I didn’t know when she was going to the door just to see outside or if she was telling me she needed to go out. After a few times of that and I guess noticing that I would note she was growling at noises with my hand on her neck or shoulder, Nala began coming to me and touching my leg with her snout or in my hand. Then she would go to the door and sit. After a few determined repeats of this, I realized she was telling me she needed to go busy. Never once did she have an accident, but she was smart enough and observant enough to quickly find a way to let me know what she needed. That is a wonderful dog!

After learning about barriers, on curb and off curb work, vehicle safety, night walks, landmarks, medical care, and so much more, and when my trainer felt we were ready, training days came to an end, and I signed the transfer of ownership agreement on Feb. 22, 2015. Nala is mine with no limitations as long as I take good care of her in all ways including good health routines and vet care, maintaining a healthy weight, and making sure she is safe physically and emotionally. A dog is a big responsibility. A working dog is an even bigger responsibility because while the dog gives its all to take care of me, I need to give my all taking care of the guide. I promise I will, just as Nala promises to take care of me. Part of that promise includes letting Nala have a spot on the couch next to me and my other fur babies. Nala approved heartily.

Training isn’t really over, just the supervised training is over as we learn more about each other and experience new things. I also can contact SEGDI at any time for questions or additional help, so we are not alone. We still have more bonding to do, too. In a few weeks, Nala will be comfortable enough at home and know our routine and house rules well enough to relax off leash when not working. Then Daddy Scott will be able to pay more attention to her which he is very excited about, but my bond with her must be first and foremost to have a secure and healthy working relationship. It all begins in earnest here. Now we must travel life together maximizing our teamwork to be independent and productive. I never walk alone, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sometimes I get so mad at homeschoolers I could just spit. To clarify, it’s not all homeschoolers…it’s just the over-achieving kind, the kind that LOVE the school part of homeschooling.

It’s not that they’re so bad or anything, it’s just that they don’t know when to stop. They say things like, “My kids do math every day for two hours…my fifth grader is doing advanced calculus this year…I’ve been working through Latin roots with my pre-schooler.”

And it’s not that what they do or don’t do, say or don’t say, is bad, it’s just the way it makes everyone around them feel that is bad.

No wonder we have homeschooling moms ripping out their hair in handfuls and dropping out of homeschooling like old people at a dance marathon. We’ve allowed people who love the SCHOOL part of homeschooling to lead the way. The problem is that the vast majority of homeschooling moms don’t love the SCHOOL part. They feel inadequate, unmotivated, and ungifted in certain areas.

As leaders, we’ve perpetuated that kind of wrong thinking. We should have said from the beginning that SCHOOL is just part of homeschooling. The biggest part is the HOME part.

And while some might actually believe the not everyone is qualified to homeschool, the TRUTH is every parent is qualified to homeschool their children. They may not want to…but they are qualified to do so if they feel so led.

So here’s the deal, over-achieving mom, if you like the school part – great!!! Just don’t rattle off all you or your children’s accomplishments to everyone…and don’t think that it’s the norm. It’s really the ‘ab-norm’.

And if you’re part of the group of homeschoolers who are committed but don’t necessarily love the teaching part, you’re doing just fine. Keep plugging away, loving your children, and refusing to compare yourself against the other over-achieving homeschoolers.

Only the truth!!

Todd

Uniqueness. Why, oh why does that seem like a dirty word to teenagers? My own, included.

I have strived to raise and help create unique little people to send out into the world. Little people that I want to embrace the fact that they are fearfully and wonderfully made in God’s image. Uniquely made.

But, I am having a problem. My kids don’t want to be unique. They want to fit in. They want to be like everybody else.

I get it.

I do.

Because, I remember, I didn’t want to be unique and stand out either. (Well, okay, I sort of did. I wanted to be so fabulous that everyone loved me/that boy wanted to date me…… but, NOT unique in a…..wow…..she is really different (weird), let’s pick on her, kind of way. LOL)

So, I thought I would write a letter to “Young Me” explaining the virtues of uniqueness.

Dear Young Kayla,

I am writing to you today to tell you why I want you to stop trying to fit in and be like the rest of the crowd and be unique. Parachute pants and R.D. Simpson jeans really don’t look all the good on you. And, listen to me closely….that hair….don’t do it……you went from this…..

To this…..

To this…..

In 2 short years….because “everybody” was doing it. Everybody was getting bangs and layers….then everyone was getting perms. Yes, the glasses were unfortunate too, but notice the smoky pink and the little monogram “K” that you were styling in the Great Perm Incident of 7^th grade. (Honestly, your youngest daughter will cry when she sees this picture when she is about 1 year old. Your other kids will think it is funny and sneak up behind her and show her this picture, then laugh and laugh when she cries. True story.)

You didn’t realize that you were following the crowd and trying not to be unique when you got your hair cut this way and styled it like that…but you were. Scary, isn’t it? Just remember these pictures when you feel yourself weakening your resolve to go ahead and not follow the crowd. Here is one more, just in case you don’t believe me yet. Here you are with a few of the other Madonna WannaBe’s back in the late 80’s. Yeah, we stood out and none of us were crowned the winner of this particular pageant.

Be brave…be bold….be you. Uniquely and wonderfully made. You.

You are different. You really are. Not a lot of people will ever really understand you. But, that is okay. That is a good thing. You just need a select few in your inner circle that “get” you. It doesn’t need to be an army….just a special forces unit. I know, it may not seem like it now, but it is a very good thing.

You are curvy and womanly when everyone else is lean and straight. You will not be able to change your DNA. You are going to have boobs and cleavage and a curvy backside. Don’t hide. Don’t feel fat (like you actually did in the picture of the many Madonnas in the picture above). Just figure out what kinds of clothes look good on an hour glass figure and embrace it. Don’t wait until you are older to figure that out and wear low cut/skin tight stuff to “flaunt” those curves because you are looking for acceptance….and being sexy seems like a good idea. It will just get you the wrong kind of attention and acceptance. I promise. Neither scenario will turn out well. Hiding it is bad. Flaunting it is bad. Embrace it and be in charge of how you view your body. Be in charge of not being tied into what the world thinks of your body. Don’t allow yourself to be judged based on your body…for good…..or for bad. Your body is just your body. Your body is……a work of art, no matter its size, no matter how much of it you share with the world. It just….is.

Your body will actually prove to be strong and powerful and will do miraculous things. Not to scare you or anything, but your body will carry 10 babies. Your body will give birth to 7 of those babies. Six of them will live. I share this to show you that your body will take a beating and keep on going. It will survive 5 C-sections. Sadly, it will gain too much weight, and you will, once again, learn to “hide” it, but, it will still works for you. Be kind to it. Take care of it.  Appreciate it for the spectacularly unique thing that it is…stretch marks, scars, and all. Don’t allow yourself to judge your worth based on your body size either. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, whether you are big or small.

Your brain and the way you think and look at the world and the people in it are unique. You are not the smartest girl in school. It is okay for people to know that. You do not have to pretend to be smarter than you are because somewhere along the line you got the reputation as a “brain”. It is totally okay to admit to your fellow students AND your teachers that you don’t get how to do something. You don’t have to cover your grade when the test is given back to you and pretend that it was higher than it actually was. You aren’t dumb either, so when you get that C in college chemistry in nursing school,not, I repeat, do not, drop out of school because you are convinced you are too dumb to be an R.N. Again, it is okay to admit to yourself and your professors that you are falling behind and don’t understand something. Remember that you are there to actually “learn” not to show that you already know stuff.

Not everyone will see things the way you do. Not everyone will understand that no matter how honest and kind you try to be, or think you are, some people just won’t like you.  You cannot change that. They just won’t…..like you…..get you….want to be around you. That is okay. You don’t need to be around people that don’t see the beauty in you….even if it is different than theirs. You will end up with friends that have made different lifestyle choices than yours. That is a good too. You don’t all need to be alike. Just treat every conversation or discussion with love and respect, and your friendships, will not only last, they will thrive – even though in the eyes of the world, you are supposed to despise people that don’t think like you. Be unique in your thoughts and your acceptance and love for others.

Everyone is just trying to figure their own lives out. Everyone else is trying to become okay with their own personal brand of uniqueness. Remember that. Everyone. Everyone is trying to figure themselves out and ultimately be okay with who they are. Even the bullies and mean girls. Even the quiet nerd in the corner. Even the popular kids. None of them really know and accept their own uniqueness…..yet.

Remember, Young Kayla, being unique and different is good. Sometimes it will even be fun. When you move to the south after 40 plus years in the north, you will be considered unique by your new friends and neighbors. To most of them that will be a good thing, but to some, it will be considered a bad thing. For you, consider it an awesome thing. It will end up being a chance for you to come into your own and not “just” be one of the Atkins girls. You will be on your own. Nobody will know anything about you, your family, your school, your church, your pageants, your jobs, your bad choices. They will just get to know…..you. The unique, and yes, sort of quirky, lady that is truly happy to have 6 kids….and would have been happy with 10 kids. The unique, quirky lady that has fun glasses and wears sandals 364 days a year. The unique lady who still….occasionally….has to remind herself that it is okay to be unique.

Be Unique. Be You. It will be so worth it.

Love, The Middle Aged Unique, Quirky You

I wish I could really send that letter to the younger me (although I would be totally freaked out by how many children I had and how much weight I would gain, so maybe it is best to keep that a secret from myself! Because I am still sort of shocked when I look in the mirror and can’t quite believe that is really me.) I really am at peace being unique now, finally, in my mid-40s. I take a little pride in it too (that is an article for another day). I am glad that I don’t blend in. I am glad that I am not just one of the herd. I am glad that my style, my feelings, my way of talking, my opinions, my way of raising my children, my choices, are my own.

Nobody else is like me (said with a secret smile rather than a bone crushing sense of dread and shame).

That my dear, unique, little people, is a good thing. A very good thing.

There are certain things that are just “female”. We all know that the female anatomy is different than a man’s. We know that a female’s emotions are more pronounced than a man’s. I know, we don’t like to admit it but it is just true. We are created to be emotional creatures and that is to our benefit as well as to our families.   We are the heart of the family; the emotional compass, if you will.

We also have different medical needs. We are physiologically different and can’t be treated by the medical field as a man can. Our weight is distributed differently. A man can lose 5lbs by cutting out one soda a week and we women struggle to lose one pound by limiting our caloric intake for a month. It is supremely frustrating but that’s the way it is.

One of the things that is unique to being a woman is the Yearly Medical Exam by her lovely Gynecologist. Women throughout history have had a love/hate relationship with their gynecologist. On the one hand, they are someone we want a friendly relationship with because of their power over us and yet it is hard to look them in the eyes when you see them out and about. If they are your OB as well, then you are VERY friendly with them! You become a literal BFF with them for the 9 months of your pregnancy. I’m here to tell you that my OB was an absolute miracle worker with all four of my pregnancies. He let me cry when I needed to and promised me that it would come to an end eventually!

I love him.

Not in that way. But in the way of a best girlfriend that has seen me through hard times and still talked to me afterward. That kind of love.

But… I also don’t like seeing him now that I am done having babies. It is hard to look at someone who has seen more parts of you than your husband. Know what I mean?

What brings this up is this: I just went in for my Yearly Exam seven years too late. I have had a regular Yearly Exam ever since I was 20 years old. I have been faithful to go every year the week of my birthday ever since then. But something happened seven years ago. I had four kids, was homeschooling, was a coach at the Y, and probably a few other things thrown in there for good measure. I was crazy busy. It’s not an excuse, I know, but that was my life. And I let that be an excuse to not do an uncomfortable thing.

The first year I didn’t schedule my appointment I promised myself I would call later that year.

Then one year turned into two and two into four. Pretty soon it was six years and I was too embarrassed to call.

Then I saw one of the nurses in Wal-Mart. I tried to hide from her but she saw me before I could fully evade her. That had something to do with Steven standing there saying, “What? What do you mean, I need to be here.” Master of concealment he is not. So, I was found out and she said something.

It went something like this:

“Why hello there, Renita.” Yes, she remembered my name. One of our daughters almost died during delivery and my pregnancies were not walks in the park!

“Hi!” I did NOT remember her name. Honestly, I couldn’t even place where I knew her from until she was gone and we were on our way home in the car and even then it was just a vague recollection.

“How are you doing? We haven’t seen you in a while.”

Guilt from someone I can’t remember?   Oh yeah, I was feeling it. I shame-facedly looked at her and said, “Yeah.” Brilliant, right? It’s all this comeback queen could come up with.

“I won’t tell Doctor I saw you until you come back in.” Small mercy? I wasn’t so sure at the time. But I was going to take it and run. Literally.

“Okay. I will come in very soon.” How I was going to do this when I didn’t even know to which doctor she was referring was a statistical impossibility. But I promised anyway. Honestly, if I knew which doctor I might have called right then out of shame alone.

“Have a good evening, Renita.” Again with my name.

“I will, you too.” I turned my eyes toward Steven and frantically motioned for him to walk away. Again, he was not understanding me and kept standing there smiling. I grabbed his hand and pulled him away. Quickly. Without it seeming like I was running away from her…which I was. I just didn’t want her to know that!

When we were a safe distance away – read: on the other side of the store – I slowed to a walk. Steven was still dutifully following behind me, not saying a word. When I finally stopped and he could see the panicked look in my eyes he asked, “Who was that?”

Honesty was my only option. I couldn’t lie because I had no idea who she was. I mean, she did seem familiar but not enough for me to place her. Anywhere. “I have no idea. She is from some doctor’s office but I don’t know which one.”

And being the man he is, his reply was classic. “Huh, okay. What else did you need before we leave?”

There was no other discussion and he had no idea of the guilt racking my body. He just moved on like it was no big deal. I was consumed with figuring out who this woman was and which doctor was missing me…

The turmoil was epic.

I did not find out for months who that woman was or which doctor she worked for. When I did figure it out was another night out with my husband at a concert. We were riding the shuttle back to our car and a woman got on that I recognized. I stared at her, ’cause you know, that’s what you do to strangers on a city bus, and finally figured out how I knew her. She was a nurse at my ob/gyn’s office…the light was fluttering off and on. It took me about 5 minutes to put the pieces together and then the light finally stayed on in this dimly lit head of mine.

The woman in Wal-Mart and this woman on the bus work in the same office. You know, the office I hadn’t seen in way too many years to say it again. I tried to avoid eye contact with her after I realized who she was but she was having none of that. Thankfully she didn’t shame me and we went on our merry way.

The bus incident was two years ago. Yes, I know, I am a terrible patient. I just got busy? No, that’s not a good excuse I just was not looking forward to being felt up by a guy while lying exposed to the world in a cold room on an uncomfortable table all the while imagining myself somewhere less awkward.

Well, finally after 7 years of putting it off, I went in. I finally called and made the dreaded appointment though. I did it because my daughters are nearing the age of being inducted into this club and I want them to faithfully see their doctor. I want them to partner with their doctor for their health and to not be ashamed or embarrassed to do what needs done.

Thankfully, when I went in they were only a little upset with me. They were more glad to see me than annoyed and teased me mercilessly. The nurses that I had run into were both there and joked about seeing me, the doctor asked if I remembered him…We reminisced and they asked about what had been happening in my life. We poured over pictures and then had to get down to business.

And by business, I mean utter embarrassment and awkwardness.

It all turned out just fine and we rekindled our cordial Dr./patient relationship. As my doctor left he said, “See you next year?” I didn’t answer right away and so he turned and looked at me. “Right? Yes, ma’am?” Oh, he was talking to me? I stammered an agreement before he left and looked at the nurse. She raised her eyebrows at me, waiting. “I really will!”

After getting dressed, I hurried out into the hall and straight to the appointment desk. I knew if I didn’t make the appointment right then I wasn’t going to. So, I scheduled an appointment for a year from now and proudly showed the nurses. “Make sure Doctor knows I already scheduled for next year.” They winked at me and wished me a good day.

I intend on keeping my appointment and being a good example to my daughters so they will know the importance of staying healthy.

What does that mean, “unique”? Well, to me, it means: original, different, not copied.

Every human being is unique! Even identical twins have their own fingerprint. I think that is amazing!

Let’s think for a minute . . . can you picture a world where everyone was the same?   Can you imagine what it would be like if all of us drove blue cars? What if all of us worked at the same place? Could you imagine all the boys wearing the same pants and ties or all the girls wearing the same dress? I picture us all in these little blue cars driving side by side down the road, all trying to get to the same place at the same time (because our schedule would be the same too). I picture our children all looking and acting the same (hopefully that is on one of their good days J). I picture us all having the same pets, of course, no reptiles or rodents!

Assuming that we were all the same and had the same thoughts and feelings, who would be there to sit with us when we were feeling lonely? Who would be there when we needed comforting or guidance? Imagining that we are all the same to me is kind of scary.   I can truly say, thank goodness God knew what we would need and he made us all unique.

It seems that we, as a whole, are trying to fit in.

Media is pounding into us at young ages what is acceptable, what we should look like, where we should live, what type of house we should have. Why do we let these things affect our lives? Do we want cookie cutter lives?

There is a song out there that I truly adore. It has talked to me from the first time I heard it. It is by Johnny Diaz and it is called “More Beautiful You.” Have you heard it?

You should look it up!   It is a beautiful song that talks about us and our plan. It tells us that our beauty comes from within. Isn’t that a true statement? God made our bodies as a venue to house our souls. You may consider a person not very pretty on the outside, however they are one of the most beautiful people on the inside. This person would be very caring, compassionate, helpful etc. You know what I am talking about. Then you have another person who you think is pretty cute on the outside, however they are not that pretty in their actions. They may be selfish, self centered, unhelpful, angry, or just not follow the rules, or bending rules to justify their behavior or actions.  They don’t have a beautiful soul.

This song goes on to remind us that you can always turn around no matter where you have been or what you have done.

God has a plan for our lives. Jeremiah 26:11, states: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” At times we try to hide our uniqueness. Are we embarrassed to be ourselves? Are we uncomfortable standing out of the crowd when needed so we back into a corner and just become like everyone else? Why do we lose our uniqueness to fit in? One of the great things is that God will take us back! We need to stand up for ourselves and become the people that God intended for us to be.

How amazing is our God! He made each of us different with all different styles, likes, and dislikes. He made our plan for our life. It is no one else’s! It is our job to be who we were meant to be whether or not our “friends” like us, or make fun of us because of our clothes or whatever. Our job as parents is to harbor our child’s individual uniqueness and help them to not be afraid or intimidated to use their voice or to stand up for themselves. We need to let our lights shine and express our individuality.

It has been exactly 9 years that we have been homeschooling. We started mid-year when our son was 6 and in kindergarten and it was definitely not planned. God gave us a not-so-subtle push, you might say.

Shortly after that we became members of a local homeschool association and I remember the first homeschool meeting/ support group I went to. The presenter was a seasoned homeschool mom that had schooled many children, including her youngest daughter who has Down-syndrome. She was doing a talk for new homeschool moms that had children with special needs. Her words to this day resonate in my head “Make sure your special needs child has a happy childhood.” Those might not be her exact words but that is what I got from it. She did not say “make sure your special needs child has a perfect childhood”….make it a happy memory for them. I am sure every mom there came out of the presentation with different meanings, but that is what I walked away with.

When special needs children become teens, those children will start noticing and questioning how they are not progressing like their peers. They might not notice certain things, but many things they will notice. My son is at a 2nd/3rd grade level (and may always be) but he has many of the same wants and aspirations as his 15 year old peers. Being homeschooled, a majority of the people he is around do not have special needs. He wants what they have. He, quite honestly, will not have all the things that they have. He will not be able to drive and he will not be able to live completely without supervision. Thankfully we have a local sports program for special needs where he can also be around his special needs peers.

We homeschool year around and spread out our breaks, but June will mark the end of this school year when both kids receive their yearly testing. For the most part, I approach the testing in a relaxed way. I try to, that is. I do have a short period of time before and after when I have to remind myself that especially with my son . . .

1. It is difficult to test what my son knows

. . .due to him getting anxious and whether he is feeling cooperative, plus he seems to have some memory issues with certain information (yet he will tell you minute details about a person he met years ago). In many ways his memory is far better than mine but he can’t pick what gets stuck in his head.

2. His testing score does not determine his worth.

I do not believe that God makes mistakes and He created my son the way he is for a reason. Often his awesomeness cannot be recorded on a standardized test.

3. My children’s test scores do not determine MY worth as a parent.

I have decided not to beat myself up if a test score is not what I think it should be. It doesn’t mean that I have failed in some way. A test is just an indicator of what areas need to be improved on and that is all it is.

4. These tests do not test maturity, character, and how far he has come in 15 years.

When we were blessed with this child at 4.5 months old he was not expected to walk or talk and was extremely medically fragile. He has surpassed all expectations that any experts had labeled him with.

But still…he does have limitations and always will. It is our jobs as parents of a child with special needs (or as parents of non special needs children) to help our child achieve the potential God has equipped in each of them. So this is the time of year I start to take inventory of ways I can assist in that. I also try to keep in mind that childhood is such a short period of time and ensure there is plenty of joy in our learning.

It’s a couple of days to another posting deadline, and here I am, again, figuring out what my brain is really wanting to say. I move around the thoughts in my head and start typing again. Some of you are probably wondering how and why we here at Home and School Mosaics keep coming up with articles. Well, let me be the first to tell you that sometimes the thoughts are piled up and waiting to be shared, but sometimes we just don’t have any idea what to write and have to think hard to remember why we bare our brains and dump out thoughts once a month.

Sometimes we have a set plan of suggested topics, but, more often, we do not and must put on our thinking caps and stare into space while listening to the kids read and play, cooking dinner, washing laundry, writing the grocery list and preparing lessons, in between extracurricular activities, music lessons, and getting ready to head to an appointment. During those times we remember that somebody has to be the encourager. Someone has to be willing to share ideas. Those things we learn, teach and share have to come from somewhere.

I come from a family that has had to come up with creative ways to use supplies on hand to accomplish what needed to be done. Some people struggle with having to use substitutes to cook or bake. I’m thinking that more often it’s been strange to have all of the items needed for recipes around here. Living out of town has encouraged us to find ways to use what is available to fix things, replace pieces, or make things work without that one part that everyone else is sure is vital to making the thing work. We’ve been living that life where you figure it out and then explain it to the next person. Perhaps that is where my motivation to start writing articles entered. I enjoy sharing where we’ve come from, what we’re doing, and what comes next. I’ll gladly share ideas, resources, encouragement and support to anyone who wants them. I’m very thankful for the people who have shared their homeschooling lives with our family. Perhaps in a way it is the pay-it-forward mentality?

Practical is good. Fancy is fine, but not required. Perfect is not likely, but wished for. Frugal is helpful when prepackaged curriculum is out of reach financially. There is so much you can teach yourself and your children if you’re willing to spend a little time at your library or surf the internet. I enjoy being that person that can give you a hint as to how to find what you are needing.

These are some of my reasons for the monthly brain dump. I can only hope that what I’ve learned and shared might be helpful for someone reading my articles. I love to encourage the people I cross paths with while they figure out how to do and teach things. I am constantly amazed at the information and many ideas and opinions available about every part of our lives. Occasionally the writing is about needing an outlet for the ideas bouncing around, but mostly I write to share our stories for those who are feeling bogged down, defeated, or truly clueless. This team of writers really cares about our readers and their needs. We are very open to ideas, questions, and suggestions. What motivates you to keep doing something? Do you have any great ideas or requests you’d like to share? Leave a comment and I’ll contact you. Blessings to you and hope for a productive month!

Braille is dead!

No one needs Braille anymore!

Technology has made Braille useless!

Those are three sentences I have heard recently, and none are true. Unfortunately, I heard those words from qualified special educators and vocational counselors for the blind. Not only do many of the growing number of DeafBlind people not have another option, blind and DeafBlind children need high reading levels and, more importantly, the written aspect of language to fully develop their thinking skills to become successful adults. Braille isn’t dead, and we can’t let it die because “experts” are blind to its benefits.

Technology such as text-to-speech is bringing books, web pages, and even microwave buttons to life for the hearing blind. It is a needed and welcome option for many because it does bring independence and convenience to those who hear well enough to understand. This technology also doesn’t require an expensive add-on device to use it. In education, text-to-speech allows hearing blind children to have instant access to much of the same resources that their sighted peers are using. Teachers do not need to find adapted resources beyond their computer or tablet. Districts save money not having to purchase embossed documents specifically for the blind or hire teachers that can teach Braille to blind students or purchase very expensive electronic Braille displays for their computers and other electronic devices. It is for all these reasons and more that text to speech technology is the preference. In the end, it is always about the bottom line – the money.

Unfortunately, there are many who don’t have enough hearing (or any hearing) to use it. For those of us who can’t hear well enough, we must use Braille to access books, internet, and even much of the objects in the world like microwaves, washers and dryers, and even public bathrooms. Even for hearing blind, those things that talk are more expensive and wear out often before the end of the product’s life. Many things can’t have audio attached to them, including even the small devices that record short messages used for labeling cans or prescription bottles. Board game components like cards, appliance switches, wall signs, and many more just can’t easily or inexpensively be set for audio. This is when Braille labeling makes more sense economically and physically. There are just many instances where Braille use is needed or even preferred.

All that aside, I can understand the budget factors for text-to-speech and the speed of hearing your computer or microwave over reading the Braille for an adult. What makes my hair stand on end or gets me riled with anger is when school officials decide that they are not going to teach Braille to a blind or DeafBlind child even to teach writing. Blind children are using voice recognition software in some schools instead of, not along side of, learning to write. Essentially, they are not teaching Braille at all or limiting it to the alphabet for letter recognition. If there is any residual vision, the schools are trying to limit the teaching to large print reading. “Low level reading skills with print are acceptable,” “Listening to words is enough,” “Let them respond orally or in sign language.” All of these are the excuses that have been given to me. These attitudes in practice will only limit the potential of the student.

Writing is the activity that drives the development of the brain in higher and more advanced stages of critical thinking skills. Historically, and evidenced in numerous studies, writing has been suggested to improve thinking because it requires ideas to be made explicit and to evaluate and choose tools necessary for effective discourse. Writing allows for knowledge to be restructured improving higher-order thinking skills. Reading and writing is necessary for any student’s education. We have high standards for requiring that with other students. We even want to base teacher pay on the results of implementing these standards. With blind and DeafBlind children, though, we want to drop those standards in order to save pennies.

Give a child what they need to learn and grow, and the child will be productive as an adult and be less dependent on society and actually contribute. It reminds me of the old adage of being penny-wise and pound foolish. Trying to save pennies now, costs you more in the future when the children will spend the bulk of their lives being supported by taxpayer money. Give them what they need to be better suited to support themselves.

To limit that because a child can’t see, just because of budget constraints, is mind boggling. To not encourage all of the language process prevents a student from fully developing their cognitive skills and will limit their future in many ways. We should not and must not allow these attitudes or practices to take hold. A blind child, a DeafBlind child, needs Braille to reach their potential. Even children with residual sight should have Braille education because so often the level of residual vision limits the child to lower reading skills which limits thinking skill development. Helping a child reach their potential of being as independent and contributing to society as much as possible should be a priority for educators.

It should be a priority because we care for all children; but if not, since money is always the main focus, the task should be to lessen the burden on society. For this reason, if for none other, it becomes the responsibility of all of us to insist that our schools and our society support Braille use and Braille education. Let’s not be penny wise and pound foolish and maybe, in the end, with successful blind and DeafBlind adults as evidence, we will do what is needed because we care about the children and not just a “bottom line.”

Studies on Writing and Reasoning:

Kurfiss J. G. Association for the Study of Higher Education. Washington, DC: George Washington University; 1988. Critical Thinking: Theory, Research, Practice, and Possibilities.

Applebee A. N. Writing and reasoning. Rev. Educ. Res. 1984;54(4):577–596.

Resnick L. B. Education and Learning To Think. Washington DC: National Academy Press; 1987.

It is that time of year, the time when school is winding down and the end is in sight. Whether you school year round or take the summer off, it can get stressful towards the end of the year. If you are like many homeschoolers, you probably had bumps throughout the year and are not exactly where you had planned on being. Maybe multiplication just didn’t click as fast as you were expecting. Or maybe your little one fell in love with a science topic, leading to rabbit trails and further exploration. Maybe you spent two months learning about Ancient Egypt because there was just so much to learn. (That would be us!) Maybe life happened. A new baby, an illness, a move, anything that might have put a wrench in your schedule. Maybe you just scheduled too much into your day and subjects took longer than you expected. Whatever the reason, you feel behind and are faced with three basic options.

Option 1

Just make up the work. You can easily double up on subjects. Hey, what kid wouldn’t like three or four grammar lessons a day until the end of the school year? You could drop all of the fun subjects and focus, making sure that those core lessons get completed. Better yet, you can skip summer break. Work through the summer until you have finished every single page of work.

While the work could get finished this way, I suspect you will get a lot of complaints from your kids. It won’t be a day in the park for you either! If you feel the need to finish all of those lessons, just take in to consideration the amount of work you will be expecting your child to do. Is it reasonable? Is it necessary? And most importantly, will they really be learning and retaining the information, or will they just go through the motions.

Now if you are behind because of behavior or attitude reasons, that is a different story. Missing part of summer break or having to double up on lessons may be what your child needs to buckle down and get their work down in the future.

Option 2

The second option would be to just skip part of the book. I went to public school as a child, and I don’t remember ever finishing a text book. Honestly we usually didn’t get even half way through any book except for math. I am not saying that leaving more than half a book unfinished is a great idea, just putting things in perspective.

Go through their books and see where you can combine things or eliminate things. Does your child understand the topic? Maybe they don’t need to do all of the book work. Is part of the book review? Does your child need the review? Will skipping the last three weeks of spelling really matter? Everyone’s answers are going to be different based on your unique child. Isn’t that one of the best parts about homeschooling? For subjects like science and history, the topics are going to come up again. If your child doesn’t learn about plants this year, I am sure the topic will come around later. If you are using a spiral based math program or grammar program the topics will come up again as well.

Option 3

The last option you have is carrying the work over. You have two more units in history, but really don’t want to rush. Why not just start at that place in history when you start up school again. Why do we have to start and stop based on the month it is? Will learning about Rome in September be any different from learning about it in May? If you are using a mastery based math or grammar program, this would really be your best bet if you don’t decide to try and finish it before the end of the year.

We have so many choices as homeschoolers, there is no need to stress. Do what works for your family and finish out the year strong! No matter what, know you are doing a great thing for your child!

My family recently attended a birthday party for a child celebrating her second birthday.   The food table was impressive: three different homemade cheese balls, an assortment of finger foods both hot and cold, four or five different kinds of chips, two variations of dip, fruit salad, and two different types of cake to choose from. Don’t even get me started on the drink station.     Now don’t get me wrong, the momma had the best intentions, she wanted to have a great party for her child.   However, it became overly complicated, a burden, and just too much.   The hostess was stressed and worn out before the party, the child didn’t sit still long enough to realize there was food, and I don’t recall seeing anyone get near the cake.   Everyone was in such a hurry to have the party done with that clean-up began a quarter of the way through the party. People felt rushed to get out. Much of the food was packed up to go back home (or to the dump), and the momma opened the gifts in the absence of the wandering child.

I’m sure each of you can envision that birthday party pretty clearly in your mind. You may even be shaking your head and thinking, “well bless her heart.” Now, before you get too high and lifted up in your thinking, stop and ask yourself, “Have I done the same thing where home schooling is concerned?” Ouch!

In the effort to give your children the “best education” have you joined too many co-ops, taken on too many extra-curricular activities, and made the children feel like they need to hurry up and get through instead of enjoying the journey?   Well, let me tell you, I’ve certainly been guilty of that.

Just recently, I was feeling frazzled with our homeschooling experience.   I just didn’t feel like the kids were putting enough effort into their lessons; those co-op people wouldn’t do what they’d committed to do, and gosh darn it, those kids are going to be geniuses whether they like it or not.   Not to mention, like birthday party momma, I was stressed and worn out from trying to make things happen.

Admittedly, I did a half hearted prayer that may have gone something like this: “God, I just don’t know what’s wrong here.   I’ve done thus and so, and this and that and I just don’t know why it’s not working the way I think it should.”     I’m not the only one who says those kinds of prayers, am I?

Almost instantly, God’s answer rang loudly in my heart “Because I told you to home school your kids, not turn it into a career.”     Ouch!   It’s not about me, it’s about them!

Might I suggest that we all take a look at what our “homeschooling” has become.   Perhaps it’s time to realize that Junior isn’t going to be doing quantum physics in 2^nd grade, and that Suzy isn’t going to earn her doctorate in middle school.   Perhaps you will never be hailed as the “Ultimate Homeschool Mom.”

Maybe it’s time to cut out some of the extra cheese ball and chip selections in life and take time to savor a piece of the cake of life.

It is, what it is…and that’s ok.