e made G a hay dish. Unfortunately G enjoys chewing the dish, so she only gets to use it under supervision. It sits on my desk and stares at me. It got me thinking.
On Saturday a good friend interviewed me. She's doing a study on homeschoolers, and, well, I homeschool. Perfect. Why do we homeschool? What are the pros? The cons? What would public schools have to change in order for us to even consider enrolling? Who is my muse in this venture? What have I learned about my children? Myself?
That last question was the hardest to answer. Myself? Myself as a mother, myself as a woman? Every answer I gave kept coming back to my children. My identity right now revolves around my children. I am their mother, their teacher. Day in and day out, they are always in front of me, beside me, behind me, asking me to make sense of this big world in a manner that they can understand. I don't know that I gave my friend a coherent response then, but after staring at this clay today, I think I've got it.
I am the clay. Homeschooling has stretched me further than I ever knew I could be stretched. It has pushed, molded, cut, sliced, scraped, flattened, and smoothed me into something better than I was before. Way better.
I am more patient, more trusting, more flexible. I don't hold my children or myself to standards based on anything but current personal progress. I am more forgiving, and more consistent. More sure of myself and my ideas. My priorities and my faith have gained clarity. I know how to follow, and yet lead. I am healthier than I've ever been. I am a much better help-meet to my husband. I have a much larger knowledge base than ever before. I have purpose, and a mission.
It has been a rocky path, but not without beauty and light. I am thankful for my quirky, creative, curious E. He has blazed a trail we all benefit from.