holding on

 

Today was not the most wonderful day ever. 

It started with me NOT resisting the urge to crawl back into bed after seeing my husband and daughter off to be truthful. That didn't last long because dogs and small girls found me in short order. And husband soon wrote home to tell me one of our classmates from our tiny town's high school died suddenly. You can be gone from a town of a few thousand people (total, including outlying areas) a really long time and be right back in high school when something like happens. 

Shortly after that the phone rang.  The insurance company is totalling the car that was hit last week. We have to sort out the details and find another now.  Just remembering that night still gives me the willies and I still shudder a bit passing semi's on the road. Ugh.  

 I rallied after lunch though. The littles have been enjoying school lessons. Tess is reading everything she can get her hands on.  They are all doing an awesome job with their bible memory verses.  We are settling into a Waldorf-y rhythm whereby lots of just living is happening and learning is fitting into that context.  I may be rebelling and consciously slowing and focusing since Alannah began her job.  She is working at a child care center and rotating through the preschool room this week.  After absolutely loving the baby rooms she is struggling in this room.  

You should be advised that attachment parenting can render your offspring unsuitable for certain lines of work. Turns out she doesn't yell well. Not loudly and not enough, to be precise.  But she has been assured that it is ok.  If she stays longer, she will "find her preschool voice."  (ie a louder more irritated one)  As it is, she is "too nice to them."  She has a bad habit of allowing 'them' to hold her hand while they walk or of stooping to assist in shoe tying.  

This is against the rules.  This breaks my heart. 

For this reason I suspect she will find herself back in the baby room where they still value soft voices and a certain amount of soothing.  Not an excessive amount mind you. It has all prompted many discussions at home about why we do what we do and how effective the different approaches are respectively.  I shared this article with her by way of contrast with her experience. Just to show what could be, even in a large group. 

It is not always sunshine and roses over here, fwiw. I have been known to nearly pull my hair out over teenaged boys and the fog they seem to wade through at times, or chore chart boxes that stare blankly back at me hour after hour.  But we rally.  There are hugs and books and deep breaths and quiet voices prevail once more. 

I don't often feel like a phenomenal success. And losses like we have seen this past year make you wonder what sort of legacy you are leaving should you be next.  I read the accounts of Zelie Martin's children describing their sainted parents and sigh.  We aren't always that. Then again, we have also raised children who grew up to hold little hands and rock babies and coach troubled kids and read books and speak softly. (mostly ; ))

 Not small potatoes. 

I am holding on to that tonight. And tomorrow, we will read some more.  I will help tie shoes. We will look for a new car and be ever so glad we walked away from the other in one piece. We will bake for the big brothers' Valentine's box.  (which will be late again - a hallmark of their mother's care packages)  We will not worry about spoiling anyone.  In fact I think we will try hard to spoil as many people as we can.   And heck with it.  If they don't hear me upstairs when I call about those bleepin' chore charts, so be it.  I will go get them.  Again.  Because in a world where tomorrow is not guaranteed I do not want to be remembered for "having found my voice."  Not that voice anyway. Not that. 

Comments

[Barb]

I agree. With it all. Soft voices, books, thanksgiving for the moments. I meant to dash off an email saying how glad I was that you all were ok after the accident. It got lost in my chaos. But I AM glad. I deal with lots of death. It is a sneaky devil. I hope we're always striving to be ready. Love is something this world can never have enough of, so I hope Alannah never finds her pre-school voice. :)

[Valerie]

Oh oh oh. I know that voice....I worked in daycare while working on my teaching degree. And you even hear that voice in elementary schools....I was often told I was too nice and that you don't tie kindergartners shoes. :( I now stay at home. My kids go to Catholic school and I'm considering going back to work there when the time is tight. I don't think I can ever go back to public school.

[Rebecca]

I just wanted to say, "I love you, Kim Fry."
That is all.

[Sharron]

Thank you for this. So good and I needed to read it tonight! What an eye opener for your daughter!

[Theresa Gonzalez]

Is it ok if I secretly hope Alannah never finds her pre-school voice?

[Jen]

Love this. And I think Alannah is simply perfect the way she is. Am so very sad for those babies, because they are still babies. :(

[11onmyown]

What a sad preschool! It's fortunate that your daughter IS in the room, breaking the rules just a little!

[amy]

Beautiful words, beautiful message, Kim. The Preschool "rules" kind of remind of some of the "rules" in the book, "The Giver"; and the social pressures to obey them. It's sad to know the majority of these tender buds are being so roughly handled - so early in life. :( Love your blog, friend!

[Chris]

Oh Kim. I must have missed your post about the accident... sometimes woefully behind on reading and not frequenting FB anymore (which has been nothing short of grace-filled for that matter), but I am so terribly sorry for you! But ever so thankful that everyone is ok! ... they are aren't they?

What a tragic environment for those sweet children. No hand holding? No soothing? How very sad, indeed.

Your perspective resonates with me. Chore charts forgotten, sometimes we just need to take some good time to breath one another in. Life, the ordinary, will resume on its own, as it always does. Love to you.

[stephanie]

Thank you for sharing this post. While nothing as scary as a car accident has happened here, there have been many days of raised voices and frustrated mama and finding my way with little ones that won't stay little anymore. If you felt compelled to write any more posts (especially on raising daughters), I'll be reading. : )

[Sarah]

Your sweet Alannah will be balm to some weary little souls, I'm betting. :) Bless her.

I worked in childcare for years in my late teens, and I admit it made me somewhat depressed about the whole state of the world. I didn't know any stay-at-home moms and hadn't had any experience in Montessori or Waldorf environments, so it all looked so very bleak from the windows of that childcare center.

Thankfully, we discovered a better way before we had children of our own. And now? Every day is a gift. Even the ugly, wish-we-could-start-over-or-at-least-pull-the-covers-over-our-heads ones.

I'm sorry about the accident- so grateful you are all ok.

[Kimberlee]

Amen. Deo Gratias. xo. (And thank you for sharing.)