Thinking of you.

Lately I am mourning that third (and fourth?) child we didn’t get to have. As we enter the warmth of the year, when TMD’s belly should have been swelling and almost ripe, suddenly I am thinking about those babies that didn’t grow. The ones in her belly, the ones in that petri dish, the ones from four years ago.

We are entering a new stage in life. The kids are taking their own clothes off. That doesn’t sound like much, but oh, how much it portents. The independence. The ease at going out with them. The trust I have in their good sense and wide hearts, which grows deeper every day.

I know a baby or two would complicate that.

But I miss that baby.

High tide.

Oh, we have the time to see what it feels like for our feet to get sucked into cool, wet mud. We won’t cringe or scream unless we want to, but we won’t….we’ll be too busy laughing and figuring out how to move again. We will be hunkering down to watch sand swirling in perfect circles. We will be standing halfway between dunes and the ocean, in the halfway sort of place that is half land, half water.

And if we wander down to the sea, if we walk that long distance, no one will say no. We can get messy, we can explore, we can try it out. When we fall into the warm, brown water, our clothes will stick to our bodies and show the outlines of all that we are and will become.

We have the chance to watch the tide race in, fifteen feet distant to ten to rising to cover our feet. We usher the water in, it follows us and we stop now and then and let it engulf our toes, calves, knees. The waves are small and unrelenting, they rush us closer to dry sand, to the sandcastles waiting to be built, the sunshine wanting to drench us.

Oh, that water is so warm, so unbelievably warm, and it’s water we’ve never seen so high, the tide usually pulling it so far from our eyes we can only imagine the water at the horizon. But we tried, and we walked far, and we laughed and struggled through the mud. The water rewarded us, following us home like a puppy, lapping at our heels. We watched waves roll in, one after the other, spitting perfect small seashells onto the sand. We marveled at the millions of years that caused the sand, the many, many moments that led us to this spot.

And it was beautiful.

Chicken pox is my beer.

Yes, you read that right. Chicken pox is my beer. It makes me lose my inhibitions and live an awesome life.

We are naked in the front garden, running around in wild circles, waving at neighbours, making a nest for our Angry Birds. We are dancing unabashedly to the Moto Moto song, singing along that we like them big and chunky.

We are running up to the bath, empty two litre bottles (from my new sparkling water addiction, as I have not had Diet Coke in months now. Sob.) in hand, and that bathroom echoes laughter and science and splashes. Pouring into big bottles, hitting them on the sides to make water erupt upwards, working together to hang out, music pumping in the air.

We are on a pirate ship, Snort’s new-to-him bed, looking at maps and searching for treasure. We are wearing our pajamas to the drive thru, just to get out of the house and get a treat.

It’s silly, really. There is no reason every day cannot be like four days of holiday time. We have no school, no work, and no obligations that can’t be skipped. But for me, I think the chicken pox gives me a permission slip to just live like we want, with none of my guilt attached. It is a glorious reminder of all that unschooling/autonomous education/life can be, if only I relax and just let go now and then. When we follow the sun, when our days stretch before us with nowhere to go but here, we find new and exhilarating ways to fill the time.

We cut straws and stick the pieces in playdoh to make Angry Birds. We read books and nap in the afternoon to the soundtrack of Phineas and Ferb. We sit in the garden and look at ants, we call people up just to say hello, we trace out the spots on his body  like he’s a dalmatian or the night sky, covered in a thousand stars.

This first round of chicken pox brought joy and peace to my life.

You’d never know he was ill. Snort was his normal self, just covered in spots. Two nights were hell on earth, but the rest of the time was a welcome break from what has increasingly become an overflowing schedule. Now we are in limbo, waiting for the second outbreak of The Pox to hit our house. I don’t think it will be as relaxed or illness-free, somehow, mainly because Coconut is a very itchy child in general.

But I will not forget the lessons I’ve relearned from this first bout.

This week will be a reminder that we don’t HAVE to do anything. We CHOOSE to do things.

I’ve felt so overwhelmed by the amount of invitations to various playdates lately that I’ve literally stopped responding to texts and messages. I will get back to them all, but never did I imagine a life where we would have more social commitments than all those ‘socialised’ school children. My friends remind me I am a part of this family, of this journey, and if it is too much for me, then I deserve a say. I am grateful for all the people we know, all the choices of activities we have. I never thought it would happen like this, so quickly, and I am delighted and surprised by it.

But I am also grateful for last week, for that one hiatus where no one expected to see us, where we had nothing but time and everything to do with it.

POX POWER.

YEAH BITCHES.

I reverse psychology-jinxed the universe! Posted on Facebook that the kids weren’t getting chicken pox in order to make them appear. AND IT FUCKING WORKED.

We have to go to the doc to confirm, though I have no doubt because they are literally appearing before my eyes. Just on Snort so far (please let them show up on Coco soon so we have joint spots and not a loooong poxy haul), and the doc will need to advise. Snort’s eczema makes him at risk of thousands of spots rather than hundreds, and his asthma makes him a bit more at risk too. I don’t think the steroids he is on will put him at risk, but will check with doc.

This is all proof I am magic. Or that my intuition is super awesome and to be listened to.

Though I thought spots were only a handful on the first day……and they are already passing the handful stage. And some already appear blistery? I told him that he will look like a dalmation. Both kids love dalmations and puppies, thanks to a certain movie.

If any of you live nearby and want the pox, you are welcome round.

Too tired to write more about how tired I am.

I am so tired. Like seventeen steps beyond what I think a normal level of exhaustion must be.

I felt like this before we moved and had all sorts of tests, though the doctor correctly predicted I was just exhausted from parenting. A few months back I was tested for other stuff because I had a sore throat (what, I’m not a hypochondriac. The nurse just took my blood, yo) and all that stuff came back normal, too.

My sister was here last weekend and said, ‘Why are you and TMD so tired all the time?’

My mother in law said yesterday, ‘It’s only going to get worse for you with home educating them. It’s a lot more work than sending them to school.’ Thanks for that.

We can handle all this. We want to handle all this.

But fuck, am I tired. Literally could not get out of bed this morning. TMD had to keep coming in and waking me up; flashbacks to high school, anyone?

I think, for me, it is that the introvert part of me really needs to be alone to recharge. The extrovert part loves people and is much happier if we go out all the time, but the key here is balance. The sick thing is that I was totally counting on chicken pox this week so we could stay home most of the week without feeling guilty.

You know 90% of people who have not had the vaccine or the disease will develop chicken pox from coming into close contact with an infected person. Apparently both of my children are in the 10%. Just like their sexual minority mommies.

Operation red spot on the hip is at a standstill till morning.

Well, if they don’t get chicken pox tomorrow, I don’t think they’re going to get it. Apparently the average incubation period is 10-14 days. Tomorrow is day 14.

I’ve been symptom spotting like crazy. It’s like the two week wait, except there is no pregnancy test at the end.

Home education ‘school trips’

We are lucky to live in one of the best places in the country to home educate – there is a huge and varied population of home educators, including more than a handful of mamas from Country A. We have home education classes/groups/social meet ups available every day of the week, with everything from drumming to rock climbing to ….well, anything you can imagine. If it doesn’t exist, you can create it. We also have regular family meets on weekends throughout the year, a large not back to school picnic in September, and lots of other stuff going on.

Including trips.

Now, we have avoided the trip circuit as I felt the kids were a bit young, but now they are a great age. We went on our first trip yesterday. These are basically the equivalent of a school group having a field trip, and yesterday we visited a working farm. We were so not what those farmers expected.

Our children were not all one age. There were kids there from babies through to teenagers. Our ‘uniform’ was whatever individuals were comfortable in. We didn’t stay in strict groups and keep quiet.

The bit that made me laugh was the opening tour. None of our children are trained into staying in a neat, orderly group. As individuals and families, we are all very used to doing our own thing. So while some people stayed right with the farmer, a few children would be looking at nearby stuff. Whenever we moved locations, our group strung out into a huge, rambling, evolving thing, as children asked questions of each other, the adults, and the farmers. It was fantastic. A day that really reinforced our decision to home educate.

And we get to have every day like this, if we want, not just once or twice in the year. That’s awe inspiring to me. We can do what we want….whether hours of play at home, or out exploring the world. That is empowering.

On a side note, we met our first real live person who appears to replicate school at home. Of the hundreds of people I’ve met, no one uses a curriculum or makes their kids sit round the table for formal lessons. This seems a more common approach in Country A, where this lady was from. It was interesting to chat with her….albeit while Snort was covered in blood from a trampolining incident!

These trips will further open up our world. Because most home ed families are fairly autonomous, they give us a chance to meet people we might not otherwise know. An interesting thing is the influx of three and four year olds who would be starting school next September – people new to the idea of home educating, and lots of new potential friends for the kids. Coco made a particular friend of a four year old boy who apparently liked being bossed around, and they stuck together like glue all day. Snort played with older boys, got upset with them, and the six year old ringleader came over to sort it out with him, so he and Snort ended up playing together for a long time.

The flexibility of ages, interests, and abilities means that getting together with large groups of home ed families is always enjoyable. Even when your kid is bleeding everywhere – the immediate concern and support of other parents and children was awesome. It’s a group of people who are ultimately very accepting, and we are a collection of individuals accepted and celebrated for our quirks and joys. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Next week, assuming chicken pox doesn’t hit us up, we have our second trip ….to a fire station! TMD is so excited for the pottery class in the morning and the fire station in the afternoon she’s taken the day off work! I really hope we make it, but suspect the pox are on the way. Soon.

Weekly roundup 27 April – 3 May

Writing this a week and a half after the start! Wish me luck.

Saturday:

In the morning we went over to a friend’s house for a chicken pox playdate. The baby brother of one of Snort’s football friends has it, so we will see if the party if successful in a few weeks, I guess.

They had stuffed Angry Birds toys, so even if they don’t get all poxy, at least they had that joy.

We went out for family lunch, then spent the afternoon deep in the woods. Kept walking till we hit the river, and much gleeful (and scary, for me, as the banks were so high and steep!) rock throwing into the water.

Sunday:

I have no recollection of this day. I think I was achey from yesterday so spent much of the day resting. TMD no doubt did amazing crafts with the kids, and garden playing, but I guess this day is proof of why it’s best to update the log daily. I have no memory.

Late afternoon I had a very bad SPD relapse indeed. Couldn’t walk or even roll over in bed.

Monday:

Kids went to Nana’s as I needed a day of total rest for my pelvis.

No idea what they did, aside from going playmobil shopping. Apparently lots of little stones were brought in from outside, and a beautiful garden was created from stones, blue paper for water.

Tuesday:

We were supposed to go to the pirate pool with Grampy, but I was still sore and he was a bit ill, so we stayed in. Kids had fun helping him do some gardening, reading loads of books, playing in the front garden, talking to neighbours, etc. I spent some time in bed and can only imagine it was his hour of babysitting which meant he couldn’t stop sleeping in the afternoon. Whoops.

Snort and Grampy did walk up to the chip shop, while Coco and I set up a nice picnic in the front garden. Lovely, relaxed day.

Wednesday:

Met up with Lauren and Jazz at a city farm first thing in the morning. The kids were entranced by the baby goats, cows, etc. Another home ed friend, let’s call her Activist, and her daughter Rambles, also met us. We walked through an amazing area to an outdoor stay and play. The kids were ENTRANCED by compost toilets. Like beyond in love, especially with sprinkling sawdust down the hole.

This place reminded me of camp, and was a total hippy fest. Even danced around a maypole, which was extra special as it was Beltane! Everything was great right until Snort’s face started swelling up and he broke out into a crazy rash. We beat a hasty retreat. We went back to the farm’s playground with Jazz and Lauren, and after they left we ended up staying all day. Loads of sand, awesome tunnels, and opportunities for independence in a smallish playground. Snort was nude except for pants. Every child was jealous of him.

When we eventually returned home, the kids played out in the front garden. I think this is the day we had a picnic dinner? Not sure

Thursday:

Met up with our mini home ed group, as is our Thursday wont. Us, Artiste, Catgirl along with Driver and her children Roman and Octonaut. We went to a large aground/park we’d never been to before. Loads of zip line fun, picnic time, sand play, trampolining, etc. The others left mis afternoon, and we stayed the rest of the day. Much like yesterday, it felt like a perfect holiday day. I wanted to go explore the neighbouring cemetery, but we decided to wait till another day as my pelvis was grumbling.

Kids rolled down some pretty big hills, then we headed back to the car. Stopped at a garden centre we always mean to go to on the way home. Came to a unanimous decision that we need a chiminea when money permits, as long as someone strong is around to carry it into the garden! Had snack in the cafe then headed home.

Read books outside in the front garden – Slinky Malinky and Hairy McClary are current faves, along with Room on the Broom.

Friday:

No words can describe how fucked up this day was. Took both kids to my as we had to miss it on Monday. Had promises from Artiste and ….shit, does Chuckles’ mum have a nickname? Maybe Drama, as that is what she studies…..Drama to help out, as gym is fucking tricky with more than one child.

Sure enough, he fell on the trampoline and injured his knee. He couldn’t weight bear or stop crying, and even his robot lady of a coach was concerned. I cuddled him most of the session (when I wasn’t dosing him up with antihistamine for another swelling face, fuck you hayfever), which actually ended up okay for Coconut as she disconnected herself from me and went off with Artiste and Catgirl.

Afterwards myself, Artiste, Drama, and children en masse went for our usual picnic at the playground. It was awesome, except for all the poop disasters I can’t write more fully about because my kids will hate me one day if I do. But let’s just say that neither kid ever had an accident in public, ever, but when a certain child refuses to poop for a week, eventually it’s going to come out no matter how badly you try to keep it in.

There were a host of other mundane disasters this day, which is why at two o’clock when I got a text from Activist inviting us to a barbecue at her house, I threw in the towel and we headed home. Because as TMD said, we were likely to add scalds to our list of injuries.

Played out in the front garden all afternoon.

Feelings.

Every now and then people post stuff to my Facebook page and say, ‘This made me think of you!’ Usually it’s great stuff and right on.

But occasionally I just stare at the screen, thinking, ‘What the fuck. This is what you think of me?!?’

Just FYI.

Oh sweet Christ, if he has a sun allergy I’m going to dig myself a hole, crawl in, and pull a duvet on top of me.