The following routine did not come easily. It was hard-won with lots of trial, error, screaming and crying (on both my part and the kids’). It comes after years of stay-at-home-momming through seasons successful and harrowing. It comes after much research and reading into how to do this mom thing better.
When we decided to homeschool, I devoured everything I could find on developing a philosophy of home education. I fell in love with Charlotte-Mason-inspired visions of our kids spending time in nature and being immersed in an atmosphere of education. I drank in the wisdom of Elizabeth’s Foss’s Real Learning Revisited and Sarah Mackenzie’s Teaching From Rest. I binged on the Commonplace podcast, determined to introduce my children to the good, true, and beautiful and so help them acquire a life-long taste for them.
In January 2020, two couples in Los Angeles found themselves exchanging 3-month-olds after discovering that their embryos had been switched during in vitro fertilization (IVF).
Pro-life and pro-choice circles alike are abuzz over the newest attempt to limit abortion in the United States. Texas Senate Bill 8 (“The Texas Heartbeat Bill”) prohibits abortion of a fetus with a detectable heartbeat. Pro-life advocates see the bill as a win, while pro-choice activists mourn what they see as an attack on women’s freedom.
My one-year-old eats a waffle for breakfast every morning. Despite that I have never failed to feed him, he inevitably wails for the entire two minutes it takes to pop up from the toaster. I sing and dance, trying to distract him. I explain that the waffle needs to cook. Nothing helps; the waiting is too painful.
It’s All Saints Day and I find myself at Mass alone. It’s the year of the pandemic, and the only place I’ve been without my children for months is in the shower. And I do feel alone. Maybe it’s all the covered faces, or all the space spreading us out across this outdoor armada - a space meant for gathering that we’re using to spread us apart.
