{ Tribute to the Homeschooling Mother }

It’s a little late for Mother’s Day and National Teacher Appreciation Week, but I am reposting this blog post, originally published on May 9, 2018 ~ in celebration of homeschooling moms everywhere. 

The homeschooling mother has no paycheck, union, or prep hour

     She wears a comfortable uniform and decorates with toddler art

She doesn’t weave her way through crowded hallways

     She treads a path littered with laundry and Legos

She doesn’t eat her lunch in the Teacher’s Lounge

    She nibbles between dish-doing and question-answering

When a stranger asks her daughter,

     “What’s 3 x 4?”

And her daughter looks at the ceiling

     And her son doesn’t seem to know his countries from his states

The homeschooling mother never says,

“What are they teaching you at school?”

     She just blushes

and vows to get out the flashcards.

But the homeschooling mother’s students:

Can divide the last cookie into perfect thirds

Know how to survive in the Arctic

Translate Latin phrases

Play Bach on a violin

Have stepped into the Middle Ages — in costume

Know where to find the beginning of wisdom

Have looked at the Civil War from the eyes of South, North and the Native American

(And can tell you what else was going on in the world at the same time)

Perform chemistry magic using home ingredients

Talk to nursing home residents without flinching

And, they can tell you in which episode Eugene went missing from the town of Odyssey.

And when her children finally graduate

     Strong, able and kind

Generous and grateful

They know how to work hard

And they know where to find what they don’t know

Fueled by faith,

They stand on conviction

The homeschooling mother

Senses that her gain is good

And she truly is…A REAL TEACHER.

©  Lisa M. Luciano 2018

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{ Tribute to the Homeschooling Mother }

The homeschooling mother has no paycheck, union, or prep hour

     She wears a comfortable uniform and decorates with toddler art

She doesn’t weave her way through crowded hallways

     She treads a path littered with laundry and Legos

She doesn’t eat her lunch in the Teacher’s Lounge

    She nibbles between dish-doing and question-answering

When a stranger asks her daughter,

     “What’s 3 x 4?”

And her daughter looks at the ceiling

     And her son doesn’t seem to know his countries from his states

The homeschooling mother never says,

“What are they teaching you at school?”

     She just blushes

and vows to get out the flashcards.

But the homeschooling mother’s students:

Can divide the last cookie into perfect thirds

Know how to survive in the Arctic

Translate Latin phrases

Play Bach on a violin

Have stepped into the Middle Ages — in costume

Know where to find the beginning of wisdom

Have looked at the Civil War from the eyes of South, North and the Native American

(And can tell you what else was going on in the world at the same time)

Perform chemistry magic using home ingredients

Talk to nursing home residents without flinching

And, they can tell you in which episode Eugene went missing from the town of Odyssey.

And when her children finally graduate

     Strong, able and kind

Generous and grateful

They know how to work hard

And they know where to find what they don’t know

Fueled by faith,

They stand on conviction

The homeschooling mother

Senses that her gain is good

And she truly is…A REAL TEACHER.

(c) Lisa M. Luciano

In celebration of Teacher Appreciation Week & Mother’s Day 2018

Daily Writing Prompt:  Laughter

Mothers & Ekdapanao

A few years ago, we went to hear a missionary speak about his work with orphans. He spotlighted this verse:

2 Corinthians 12:15 — “I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls…”

He told about his schedule, being totally disposed to a large group of fatherless young boys. This man had NO time to himself, and didn’t have the conveniences of normal American living.  He lived in a hot, Central American climate, in a rustic setting.

Yet, he was glad to expend (ekdapanao – to spend out, completely exhaust) himself for these guys. To him, these young men were souls to love…and win to Jesus.  He looked past “dirty and needy” and saw “valuable.”

That’s true love.  It’s the way God looks at us.

Romans 5:8 – “For while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

Our sinful selves are not lovable or desirable. Yet, with the covering of Jesus, we are gathered into God’s family – and He loves us.

Insert bridge here to the concept of motherhood…

I have eleven (biological) children to love, nurture and train. Some of them are adults now.

At times, I have felt “spent” as a mother.

(But…ahh… I have had hot showers, cups of coffee and a warm, cozy bed to enjoy — eventually.)

Although it’s tempting, I don’t want to coast on this marathon of motherhood.  I don’t have toddlers anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to put things on autopilot.

Let my teens smile and roll their eyes good-naturedly when I ask them “What are you going to be when you grow up?”

Let them groan when I stumble my way into their technological world, or make a silly parent pun.

I will correct them, confront them, and praise them. I will surprise them with love whenever I can (even when they’re crabby, contrary or cheeky.)

I will press on in the high calling of motherhood, calling upon God’s grace to refresh me when I’m spent.

But, for now I must say farewell —  my fans await me.

It’s Mother’s Day weekend.

I already have a lovely lavender plant, a piece of chocolate and a gift that couldn’t wait to be given sitting on my desk.

Ekdapanao has its rewards. And it’s not even Sunday yet.

 

Sweat and Donuts

Nine days ago, I posted about the upcoming one mile race.

Ta-dah!  It happened last night.

I mentioned that my goals were: to survive the race and keep my bladder intact.

From this standpoint, I was successful.

The background: My husband is the family athlete, but I reluctantly joined the rest of the family in the annual race last year to celebrate being 50 and also because I didn’t have the excuse of a baby to tend anymore.

My time: a wimpy 11 minutes, 3 seconds!!

I think I could have speedwalked more efficiently.

Is there any reason to do it again?

It’s a family event and that is worth something to me.

It feels good to do something beyond my comfort zone and beyond my natural ability.

It’s satisfying to complete something that feels impossible.

Besides all that, a friend rewarded us with amazing donuts on the other side of the finish line.

Is there any reason not to do it again? I have all year to think about that.

~ Lisa

Hot Gift

It’s garage sale season.  I load eager children into the monster van. We roll slowly through middle class neighborhoods, seeking signs and cluttered driveways. When we spy a worthy target, we stop, click doors and spill out. Excited fingers jingle and drop quarters while I deliver final instructions.

“We’re not taking home junk.  Just because it’s in the free box doesn’t mean we grab it. Everyone ready?”

Determined little shoppers approach the treasure-filled yard. We nod at the smiling homeowner with one eye on bargains in a corner.

Markie bubbles when he finds something on a sawhorse table. My big-eyed boy approaches, hands behind his back.

“I want to give you this for Mother’s Day.  Will you get it and I’ll pay you back?”

I peer down at a sparkly find on a chain.  The necklace reads “HOT” spelled out in rhinestones.  I nod and smile, suppressing a major giggle.

I remind him that I forget to wear necklaces. My sparse collection of chains sits lonely on a handmade jewelry tree. It’s literally a branch of a tree that my son T.J. mounted on an unfinished wood base.

If I had to choose, I’d pick the branch holder over the jewelry.

“If you don’t want to wear it, you can just let it hang on your branch thing,” he says.

I hug him and smile. “That’s a perfect idea.”

We check out, tote a full bag into the van, ready to attack another driveway.

~ Lisa