Cokes and Crayons

Today was the first day of school and, my bad, I forgot what these days are really like.  I got up with the Hubs to be sure I was full-on ready.  Schedule in hand, I went about making my bed, writing a to-do list and going over the curricula to be used today.  This is all circa 5:30am.  I got all the little crayon boxes put together complete with new crayons and sharpened pencils.  At 7:30 I woke their little booties up and proceeded with said schedule.  After breakfast and morning chores we sat down at the table and...


We worked diligently for 5 minutes, Coop, Z and I.

...and then all hell broke loose.  As it does with a 6, 3, and 2 year old and a 10 month old.  I guess in all my planning I forgot I was...  teaching kids.  (heathens?!)  For some of his studies, the six year old has amazing workbooks that he can do a bit of by himself, but still needs guidance especially on the first day.  The 3 year old is just getting familiar with his letters and keeps screeching, "Mommy! Help me with my letters!"  This prompts the 2 year old to just simply screech.  ...because everyone else is...  and what is that 10 month old???  Oh.  You dropped your toy.  Again.  Chaos.

It's so easy to plan things out, but kids seem to always have an agenda of their own.  A lot of people tell me I'm crazy for home schooling.  Sometimes I am offended by this.  Other days I sit back and think... oh yeah... I AM crazy.  I'm not gonna lie... most days are as nuts as this one.  Everybody all over the place, screeching at the top of their lungs.  But it's the little moments that I wouldn't trade for anything...  the first time Coop read a word by himself, the first time Z wrote "his letter: Z".  It seems like complete chaos sometimes, but at some point during our day both Z and Coop will come to me with some amazing fact or something that trickled in and got absorbed somehow.  It's all pretty amazing.

So, when all else fails, I do have one vice.  I do not keep it in the house because I would be as big as a barn.  I don't smoke.  I don't drink too often.  But when the times get tough, the times need a...

Coke.

Hits the freakin spot.  (And please don't judge... I am assuming the chicken neck is due to a six year old vantage point... I could be wrong... please don't tell me if I'm not...)  I felt much better after downing and drowning my crazy chaos.  Tomorrow will be better... or not... but we're learning.  That's what matters.


(Hey, Hubs... go ahead and pick me up another Coke... )