Here's what it looks like when I read with the kids. When I'm living it, this intensity level seems normal. When I capture it on video and watch it, I realize it's nuts. In a good way, of course! Freestone has to read out loud to another human for 20 minutes a day in English and 10 in French. Xanthe should read out loud for 20 to 30 minutes a day, too. Because I refuse to believe what my sophomore English teacher said (To do two things at once is to do neither), I set up the two kids reading to me simultaneously. I assured both of them that I was listening, as I surreptitiously returned some emails on my phone, Ptolemy singing in my ear and Tziporah sweeping the floor with her mouth.
So that's the plan. Do our best and have fun doing it. Like I alluded to yesterday, we didn't have seven kids so that someday there would be seven adults roaming the planet. We had kids because we believe in family and the time we spend together, as part of an eternal context. We're not waiting until some future time to enjoy it. If we waited until all the homework was done to be happy, when would that be? 10 pm? Friday afternoon? 2019? Last night, Scott and I were deciding how to divide up duties. One of us was going to take Ruby to guitar, and Scott said, "I need some quality time with Ruby." This is one of the best things about Scott. He didn't say, "Ugh. I guess I'll have to drive Ruby all the way to Salt Lake so I won't have to listen to the kids read."
Don't get me wrong. If you stand at our front door and listen, you'll hear, "Freestone, get over here and finish this page!! Ari, I told you to get your cello out! Xanthe, where is your book?! Ruby, we have to go NOW! Golda, your lesson is tomorrow!" The point is to consciously try to love life during the fray, which admittedly is a challenge when it's bedtime and someone says, "OK, now I just have to make a puppet and a diorama of a scene in Tom Sawyer." The puppet project ended up being hilarious. For weeks, it was a bedtime joke. "Good night, Ruby!" "OK, but I still have to make a puppet." I thought my puppet of Tom's aunt was brilliant, but somebody murdered her to get her googly eyes and purple tulle hair. Eew!
At the end of the day, we're just trying to put on a good puppet show. Keep the strings untangled, keep moving, don't forget your lines and have some laughs along the way.
So that's the plan. Do our best and have fun doing it. Like I alluded to yesterday, we didn't have seven kids so that someday there would be seven adults roaming the planet. We had kids because we believe in family and the time we spend together, as part of an eternal context. We're not waiting until some future time to enjoy it. If we waited until all the homework was done to be happy, when would that be? 10 pm? Friday afternoon? 2019? Last night, Scott and I were deciding how to divide up duties. One of us was going to take Ruby to guitar, and Scott said, "I need some quality time with Ruby." This is one of the best things about Scott. He didn't say, "Ugh. I guess I'll have to drive Ruby all the way to Salt Lake so I won't have to listen to the kids read."
Don't get me wrong. If you stand at our front door and listen, you'll hear, "Freestone, get over here and finish this page!! Ari, I told you to get your cello out! Xanthe, where is your book?! Ruby, we have to go NOW! Golda, your lesson is tomorrow!" The point is to consciously try to love life during the fray, which admittedly is a challenge when it's bedtime and someone says, "OK, now I just have to make a puppet and a diorama of a scene in Tom Sawyer." The puppet project ended up being hilarious. For weeks, it was a bedtime joke. "Good night, Ruby!" "OK, but I still have to make a puppet." I thought my puppet of Tom's aunt was brilliant, but somebody murdered her to get her googly eyes and purple tulle hair. Eew!
1 comment:
You're awesome, Circe. I seriously think you are the coolest person EVER.
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