Half Term Happiness

Here in the UK, the school year is split into three terms. Each term lasts twelve weeks, with a one week break halfway through each one. This is called half term, and I'm often asked, "What are you doing for half term?" The answer is usually much more boring than for families who have children in school. Because we spent a week on holiday early this month, we continue on with our usual curriculum routine. E is learning to read, and Z is progressing with maths, and it would seem silly to not do it when we're in our groove. Plus, we have more time for study in half term, and we can do it in a more relaxed way.

Let me explain.

While we do workshops and go to some regular meet ups with other home educators, most of the activities that Z and E are involved in are open to all children, and thus the scheduling tends to align with the term dates. Additionally, most places we meet with other home educators will have special half term activities, and so those spaces are not available to us. Half term becomes a week that we have nothing in particular to do. And I love it.

For the first time since we returned from Nice, I am caught up on washing the laundry and the dishes. Not having to drop everything to prepare a child for a class or lesson meant that I worked straight through the day, adding school readings into the rhythm of the day between the first loads of laundry and dishes and the remaining ones. Not only that, but I didn't even have to take time out to get dressed. It was all pajamas, all the time. Fantastic!

Tomorrow we'll make a leisurely trip to the library. The days after that, who knows? Perhaps I'll finally organise the homeschool group art supplies. Perhaps the children will set up a Lego city in the dining room. We can do what we like, with no schedule to keep, and it's grand.

Ignorance is Bliss

We are in the middle of an at home day, sorely needed after two days of being on the go. Sometimes I feel a bit weird about taking these days, knowing that many (maybe most?) people around me do not see the value in it. As much as there's been a cultural push to simplify, hard work is still held up as the standard. If we are not busy constantly, aren't we just being lazy or indulgent?

But we are busy in our own way on these days, and there is value in rest. I say this having mostly emerged from seven months of stress-induced severe heartburn. I tried a variety of interventions to help, and now that things are mostly stable, the thing that keeps me comfortable is rest. If I miss even a couple of hours of sleep at night, or if I have too many days jam packed with activities, I don't feel well. So I rest. I make time for it. I see very, very clearly how important it is.

I have for quite some time been looking for work to do part time from home, something I could do for five or ten hours a week to boost our income a bit. So far, nothing has worked out. It is work to find work, and mostly my days go by with few moments to spare. But I do find some spare moments to write, and that is partly why I am here, to do this small bit of work, to keep my skills somewhat sharp in the time I have.

I also come here to write because I have read others' writing, and it has helped me. I hope that these small things I share might be of help to others. Sometimes it is good to read a new idea or a different perspective to what is culturally popular. Sometimes I have been prompted to ask questions that I wouldn't have guessed needed answering. Mostly, I have felt less alone by finding others who are also choosing to live their lives in a way that is different than what the mainstream culture dictates. And I love that we give that to each other, for free.

Which brings me to this bit of awkwardness. I am in the process of putting a PayPal button on this blog. Not many people read this blog since I let it lie dormant for so long, and I'm guessing most people are in the same position we find ourselves in, of needing to be careful with finances. I am planning for that button to be wholly ignored. But I'm putting it there anyway, just in case. Because you never know. I do it in the same way that I "like" and comment on every Boden Facebook post that offers a free coat or dress. Expecting nothing, but knowing that if I don't try, I definitely will not win.

I am going to continue writing here, whether I ever get paid or not. I like doing work for free if it benefits others, and indeed this is what I do in real life also. It gives me joy to give my time and efforts, and so I want the few of you who read to know that the PayPal button does not exist there because I expect anything from you. I gladly give away these thoughts, and am all the happier if they are of some benefit to someone who might not read them elsewhere. I'm glad you are reading. As you were. Carry on.

Same Song, Different Verse (Our Holiday in Nice)

We keep going back to Nice. We can't help it. It suits us. We have visions of traveling elsewhere, but in my mind it is in addition to and not instead of. Nice has been good to us. We know how to be there, just be. At this point in our lives, other trips we are committed to making regularly are a lot of work, and none of us want to make that sort of effort for what is supposed to be a trip purely for pleasure.

There were some snags in our relaxation plans this time. E's nose met with the corner of a coffee table in a way that was rather alarming, so we have added "ambulance ride" to her list firsts. That was on our first full day there, and it was surely not the best way to begin what was to be a relaxing week. However, we soldiered on, and by the end of the week, we'd managed to enjoy ourselves despite some restrictions on water play.

Thanks to two other big trips in this past year, plus our move to a new house, our budget was a bit low, but we still managed to make the best of things. Because we get an apartment for the week, we could eat most of our meals in and eliminate excess food expense. Our one big splurge was ice cream every night, which is a mainstay of our holidays in Nice. But all our activities were free. Picnics on the beach, a walk up to the Chateau, playing in the fountains of the Coulée Verte both day and night - these things were easily accessible and truly fun. We had a good time, even though we were a little bit broke.

Now we are home again, and that holds its own kind of pleasure. Going to Nice in early October seems perfect to me, as we get all the sun with temperatures that suit us, plus lower prices than in the high season, and then we come back to autumnal London, to dig into the coziness that the shorter, colder days can offer us. I'm sitting here in a wool cardigan and fake fur lined boots, happy as a clam. My children are dressing up in multiple layers and are not disappointed.

Next comes Halloween, then we enter the lead up into Christmas, with all the lights and foods and mulled wine and everything that we love about those dark days that are made to sparkle. I'm ready for it.

Seven Years a Mother

Seven years ago today, I became a mother. Not in the usual way, and the title of mother to my children does not belong only to me. I am and always will be the second mother, and I am okay with that. I'll just be frank here and say that if you're not okay with being the second mother, then adoption is not a good way for you to become a parent. You need to be firm in putting yourself dead last in the hierarchy, because that is where you belong. The child comes first, and after that the first family, and dead last: you. This is not what I set out to write today, but it suddenly feels very important to mention it.

I have had the pleasure of loving my Z in person for seven whole years. I'm still in awe of the fact that she allowed me to love her, and even more bowled over by her love for me. If she had run screaming from me when I asked to hold her, that would have been understandable. I was a stranger to her, as was J. But she took a chance on us, and we are so very lucky that she did.

Z is kind and thoughtful and generous. She is the very best big sister. She is clever and creative. She has worked hard on so many things that matter in her life. I have done my best to labor alongside her and help her in any way I can, but in truth it is her remarkable spirit which has made all the difference. I don't think I could be prouder of all that she has accomplished in these seven years. When I say I am the luckiest mother, you'd better believe that I mean it.

On Having Houseguests (and Liking It)

My parents have been with us for this past week, and this morning we rode the Tube out to Heathrow to see them off. It was a good visit, and their stay here in our house was made easier than ever by the fact that our living room - which doubles as our guest room - has a door. Plus, we have that second loo. It's night and day different from having houseguests in our old house. It is more comfortable for everyone.

As an introvert, it can be hard to have people stay with us, but what I'm now finding is that I can truly enjoy the process. I like the part when we prepare for our guests - it's always good to have a reason to tidy up and make the house look its best - and the part when we see people we love and get to spend time with them. The anticipation of having a short time that is different than our day to day also appeals. I like going places that we might not take the time to go and having more people around my table. (In this new house, I also have a bigger table.)

And then there is the part when they head home. As much as I love each and every one of the people who have come to stay with us, and I am happy to have had them here, there's something truly special about the hush that falls over our house when guests have gone. It's not that it's quieter than any other time, of course. It's the magic of comparison. It is quieter than it's been when we have had extra people in the house. And after putting off laundry and dishes and such to be with guests and take them out and about, I find I am happy to get back to the usual housekeeping business. Returning the house to its usual arrangement is soothing. It feels peaceful.

We've got this afternoon to attend to this task, and tomorrow also. If possible, I try to bookend visits with a day or two of nothing-in-particular. Before arrival, the air is charged with anticipation. I've long given up on the idea of having everything perfectly clean and organized before guests arrive, but we do want to make things our own version of "just right" to make sure our guests are comfortable. After departure, that charge is gone, and it is like the return to normal breathing after a good run. The process is not quite over, but the hardest work is done.

Aaahhh.

Ten Years Married

Three days ago, J and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary. Well, maybe celebrated is a bit of a generous word for it. We had tomato soup and grilled cheese, which is pretty standard Friday night fare at our house, and we had it with our children, like normal. He brought me flowers, and I'd ordered a small cake, and we both posted wedding photos on Instagram. Done. This is how we mark a decade of married life.

I am not disappointed with our celebration, or lack thereof. One thing that is really lovely about ten years together is how we've settled into our life together as a couple and now as a family, since we started adding kids three years in. I was thinking of the anniversaries that came before this, and we didn't do anything spectacular for those either. Because it's just not who we are, or what we want or need.

What I've discovered over ten years of marriage is that the most important thing for marriage satisfaction is to shed the expectations that don't fit, both the ones that I held personally due to my own preferences and personality, and the ones I was taught to have. Ten years in, it's still a work in progress, but I look over at the man I married and see that we are steady, despite the lack of date nights and emphasis on other things which my American evangelical Christian upbringing taught me were important.

Would it be nice to go out alone with my husband? Of course it would. Would that take more effort than both of us are currently willing to make? Yes. If it didn't, then we'd be doing it a lot more often. And yet, here we are, with our tomato soup and grilled cheese and small chocolate cake, planning where to put the flowers so the cat won't eat them while our children are, once again, being unbearably loud. And happy enough with it, too.

I think a lot of lies get told about relationships, both inadvertently and because people honestly believe these things to be true. We're told how to show that we value our relationships, but those displays of value don't necessarily fit. We've had to learn what shows value to us. It doesn't matter how it looks to others, if they shake their heads at the choices we've made and think that surely we are doing it wrong and thus setting ourselves up for a fall. Because here we are. Ten years in, and still happy together. We've learned how quickly the time goes. Whatever is trying in the moment will surely pass. If it's important enough, we'll talk about it. We are both adults, capable of stating our wants and needs, capable of allowing things that aren't our favorite in pursuit of the greater good.

At ten years in, our life is peaceful, steady, good. I married a man who is peaceful, steady, and good, and we have weathered some storms together and come out on the other side. Knowing this is a comfort. If we've walked through hard things together already, we can do it again. But for now, there is peace, steadiness, goodness. There is a new home and another three years permission to stay in the country we've made our home. I am grateful for the ten years we've lived as husband and wife, and I look forward to the next ten.

In the Course of Seven Months

Seven months gone - where have they gone?

To normal life and to extraordinary life events, the most notable of which was a trip to a whole other continent where some things went terribly wrong and other things went delightfully right, and I ended up with severe heartburn for five months. And then at the end of that, we moved. Just across the street and down a bit, but still. My Z went to camp (in a tent!) for two weeks while we moved, and I felt incredibly proud of her. We've begun a new school year, and it feels sweet and easy because after five years, I am confident in my abilities and my kids' abilities. Which is not to say that it's not work, but it's joyful work.

As is the work in our new house. The new is place bigger, just a bit, but the bit matters. We have a third bedroom which is used as an office, and J finally has his own desk. We put the children in the biggest bedroom and gave them a trundle bed, and there is space for most of their toys as well as plenty of floor space for setting up Lego and Playmobil towns, cities, what-have-you. Just tuck that trundle back under the bed for the daytime, and a whole world opens up.

There is also a dishwasher.

And a second toilet.

And room for a big fridge.

My life has been transformed!

And for the first time in three years, we are living in a house with all of our own furniture. I did my best to truly be grateful for a home in which we didn't have to purchase all the furniture straight away, but the pieces that didn't suit us had begun to grate on my nerves in a way that felt inescapable.

And then there was the problem with the hot water.

It was time to move, and this new place feels like a gift.

So here we are, in a house that feels to us like a mansion, filling it with things that make it our own home. So many choices to be made! So much furniture to assemble! But we are nearing the end of the hard work, just in time for houseguests. And after that, a proper holiday, just the four of us in one of our favorite places.

Life is good.

More writing to come. Now that I have a dishwasher, I've got the time.