The Shift

My hands wrap around my favorite mug, and as I lift it to slurp a sip of my coffee, I feel a cool breeze on my face. The realization of the shift in weather hits me. The evenings have cooled, the mornings offer up a chill I have forgotten. Summer is coming to an end. I have enjoyed our long hot summer, but I am ready for the shift in season that nature inevitably gives us.

Our summer was abundant. Abundant in heat, like no other I can remember. Our summer was filled with travel, family time, laughs and times golden for making memories.

This summer was filled with so much swimming that I am sure my skin has aged a year from sheer dryness!

I am ready now for the cooler breeze, the lower steady temperatures and night time fires. I welcome the falling leaves, the changing colors, the anticipation of routines with the start of school.

I like summer, love it in fact, but I am a fall girl. I love the colors of the new fall fashions - the browns, burgundies, wines, and greens. I like to remember myself as a kid, getting a new pair of corduroy pants for back to school. the smell of my school supplies scattered in front of me, all labelled and ready to go into my new back back. Lets not forget the fresh new haircut, trimmed to perfection for the first day of school.

I love the feel of a brand new, or old and perfectly worn sweater and how it wraps around you when the breeze picks up, sending a chill up your back.  I love to wrap my sweater tightly around me, pull the sleeves down and feel instantly comforted, transported to a level of such comfort, you can't help but smile and lift your face just a little bit higher, letting your hair get caught in the wind, the sun reflected on your face, your spirit lifted.

Hello fall, welcome back......

Procrastination or Laziness?

I hate to think of myself as either lazy or a procrastinator. Either word seems to have a negative connotation that leaves me feeling bad about myself. Lazy? I am not resistant to work, sluggish, slow moving. I do not lack motivation. Well OK, sometimes I lack motivation, but those times are few and far between!

If you look up the definition of procrastination on Wikepedia, this is a small part of what you will find:

In psychology, procrastination refers to the act of replacing high-priority actions with tasks of low-priority, and thus putting off important tasks to a later time. Some psychologists cite such behavior as a mechanism for coping with the anxiety associated with starting or completing any task or decision.

OK, that sounds a little bit more like me! If you dive really deep into the whole psychology of procrastination, which I promise I will not do here, (because that is just not something I would do!), I see that it really is not me. I only fall less than halfway into that category! I would never, not meet a work deadline, I would never not do something that would require another person to go without something I promised them, I would never not do something that someone else was whole heartedly depending on me to do. I may rush like hell, break a bone, sweat it out, curse and complain, and get it done without you ever knowing what happened behind the scenes!

Procrastination can also be associated with perfectionism, which I am heartbroken for myself to say, I do suffer from! And that is NOT a good thing. I do sometimes negatively evaluate the outcome of my own performance.

I can have a list of things that need to be done, and have three weeks to do them. You know what? I will do one or two and then rush like the wind in the last week to complete it! I like the rush and the sense of accomplishment that comes with completing that list in a hurry! I feel the same way when I empty a bottle of lotion or use the last of the toothpaste or shampoo! It just feels good to have it done!

Just something to ponder, do you put things off, do you procrastinate?

I have closets that I promised myself I would clean, junk that I thought I would throw out, sell, donate. I have gotten through some of it, but the piles still continue to be there, the clutter has just moved from one room to another (usually with a door that I can close), and don't get me started on my craft and workshop space! It's unbearable some days. My husband would absolutely agree. Then when I have a Friday night scrapbooking class, I am worked up into a frenzy trying to get the space presentable!

I find that I often have numerous projects on the go at one time. The other day, I spent a few hours going through some of my craft projects. I have three tables, sometimes four that I work at. I piled my projects up, I had five in total (not too shabby!). I prioritized them and labelled pieces of paper #1 through #5. I would do that at work all the time so I figured it would work here at home as well. In fact, I have already completed #1, now just to finish up to #5 without starting another one!

So on the day I write this, I had to go down to my craft space, grab my laptop, trip over the vacuum (which I swear to you, I NEVER put it away!) and close a door so I don't see the mess.

 As I turn off the light, I take a look over my shoulder. I see craft paper that I left on the floor, a basket of laundry that needs to go in the washing machine, a bag of junk that I am pricing for a fundraising yard sale, and the vacuum which I dropped in the middle of the floor yesterday when the phone rang is still in it's dropped position!. I say to myself - "I'll get it tomorrow, I'll have time, and it will all still be there!"

Oh, how it will all still be there!

Thanks for taking the time to read......

Tannis

Crying into a pillow

I daydream sometimes, of days of summer home schooling grandeur.

I dream that we will stick to our 9:30am start time. I dream that the day plan I mapped out the night before will go smoothly, working from page to page, with discussion and understanding. A few breaks will be taken for water, to laugh at the cat as he spreads his outstretched paws towards us or creeps on my back when I am leaning over to help.

I daydream that we will end on time, with only having had a few difficulties. Then we will get on with our day. Perhaps we will pick from our boredom summer jar that I made, see a friend, have a friend over, go for lunch. Oh the many possibilities of  perfectly planned summer holidays.

Like I said, sometimes I DAYDREAM of summer home schooling grandeur.

The reality is somewhat different. The reality more likely has me sitting across from my girl, with an assortment of money in front of us. Coin, that I know she can't count. Coin that she never learned to count in school. Perhaps they taught it briefly, perhaps not. Either way it is now my responsibility to teach her. When she gets frustrated with the process I ask her if she wants to go to the movies with her friends when she is older, go to the mall to buy clothes, go to 711 to buy a Slurpee. She says yes to all.

I am trying to teach her the value of learning to count money.

Now, a few days later, she is still struggling to understand. She gets frustrated, so we move on to something else. This lesson seems so long already.

She looks at her worksheet, she reads it, I help her with the first few questions. She seems to have a grasp. Now is where I practice the art of walking away, leaving her to learn some independence when doing her work. What I am unknowingly doing is just walking away to leave her to figure it out by herself. Just like in school.

What she doesn't know, is that what I am doing is going to wash half of the kitchen floor, or the whole floor. Whatever ten minutes gives me. In that ten minutes I just want to cry. I want to see my tears fall on the already wet floor, drop into my bucket of soapy water. I want those tears to flow because I am so frustrated. I am so unbelievably angry that in grade 5, she has not a bit of knowledge about money. I had hoped that the school would teach her that! I was hopeful that money would just come easily to her. But why should it, nothing comes easily to her. Nothing.

Well OK, laughing does. That is a big something.

My tears don't come, they rarely do anymore. I have tried a long time to be strong, to be ever hopeful and positive. I think my heart has just been broken for so long that it sometimes feels impossible that it will mend. I do try to think of how good it sometimes feels to cry. Thinking about it, the tears nearly come, they are close, but my ten minutes is up.

I have to stand up, and be encouraging and positive in the seven steps it takes to get from the kitchen to the dining room.

I sit down and I see that she did not "get it". She does not have the skill set to do this particular assignment I chose. For some of the answers, she has even guessed. In a look, I know that she knows I am disappointed. I grab the eraser and erase what she got wrong. Question by question I help her. There are five she got wrong. Once we complete it, I tell her to go to her room and take a little break. Slowly I go to my room, close the door quietly so she doesn't hear me, stuff a pillow into my face, and I cry. The tears come, the sobbing starts, and I cry.

I think of how she will be ripped to shreds in this world, of all the mean kids who will tease her, the friends that will abandon her, the teachers that will fail her, the people that will judge her. I cry harder now with the pillow in my mouth so she won't hear me because I don't want her to feel guilt, shame, stupid.

I think of how her real father has no idea, our families have no idea. I feel like I should call someone, I wish I could call someone....but there is nobody. Because unless you are me, or have a child like me, you have no idea how desperately sad it feels to know that your child is considered nearly mentally retarded and she looks so damn average. Unless you are me, you would have no idea what to say, and you would feel to listen would not be enough. Yes she was assessed and tested as near mentally retarded, and I can assure you those are NOT my words. I do not use that word.

I can feel an actual ache in my heart, because I want so badly for her to learn, to use her brain, to train her brain. I know she can, I have seen what she can do! She can do anything she wants to, if she tried, if she believed it, if she wanted it. I can feel the hardness in my throat when I think that having a teachers aid is something she doesn't have. Having a teachers aid is no longer about one on one attention with a child for the betterment of their education. I am pissed off beyond belief that she does not qualify for a teachers aid, and that school really has so little to do with actual teaching, learning, caring.

I want to yell to someone who will listen...She is dumb! She can't count out $2.65 in coin, she knows not, the difference it should feel like to be 1 hour or 6 hours. She sometimes forgets and thinks that after 399, comes 100! I want someone to hug me and understand. Don't tell me it will be OK, don't tell me she is so great and so kind, and so happy. I know all that. Just hug me and let me cry, just listen. Tell me I am doing the right thing, or the wrong thing. Tell me what other moms in my situation do. What do they do? I wish I knew.

I can feel now, unable to breathe. I think to myself, now what? We were supposed to go to the water park. I hate this day. This is a horrible day for me, but I don't want it to be a horrible day for her. I can hear my husband saying she shouldn't go if it was a matter of her having a bad attitude or bad behaviour. I can hear the resource teacher saying she is still a kid, she should enjoy summer. I hear myself say, it is not her fault that her brain is like that. She doesn't "not get it", on purpose. She can't know what she doesn't understand. Her brain needs practice and repetition, that is why I do what I do with her. That is why we home school in the summer. I am not mad at her, and none of this is her fault.

So I take the pillow out of my mouth, remove it from my face and go shower. We end our lesson with some spelling practice. We pack a lunch, and go to the water park.

We wait in line for over a half hour in +31 degree weather and I think to myself - I am a patient person, I am a patient person, I am a patient person. Later as I bite into my sandwich I look over at Haley who is smiling back in appreciation. I think to myself, God help me because trying so hard to be a patient person could one day kill me!

I am writing this at the water park and I think, it must be time to go. After all, I do have cleaning to do, laundry to do, and groceries to get. I walk over to find her, wondering where she is, only to find her using the huge water gun to shoot water at kids she doesn't know. Her face has a huge smile, her belly jiggling up and down with laughter, and I think to myself, I can wait a few more minutes, I am a patient person.

Today, or tonight, I will find some time to pray to my God, thanking him for all the strength he does give me, that I recognize there are bad points about me, but I'll thank him for all the really good things about me too. I will tell him that I will keep going, keep trying to be positive, keep on teaching and above all, keep on loving her.  Every day, I learn. Every day I am amazed that I can love her even more.

As always, thanks so much for taking the time to read.

Tannis

Road Trip

Setting off on a road trip across Canada. Some people would love it and others would hate it-looking at the long days sitting in a vehicle with dread and anxiety instead of glorious anticipation.

I am not sure what I like about it. I would like to say that it is the thrill of being on the open road, wind blowing my hair. It's not. Driving makes me tired and the wind gives me a headache! I wouldn't say I really love it until we get to the mountains. Before the mountains however, I do not find the flat land all that appealing. What I do like is the the smell, the random churches standing alone, erect with looming authority. I love the groups of silos, enormous in the fields. I love the farmhouses. The old farmhouses. I imagine white lace curtains on open windows, blowing, letting in a cool breeze. I imagine men, dirty and hot from the heat with tired bodies from the hard work all day. Women in the kitchen, cooking, baking, canning. Children running free with their siblings, playing with water and running wild in the big yard, while the family dog, faithfully follows.

I love the colors of the fields. Bright yellow with canola, hay bales, the beautiful purple of flax fields. I like to see the horses gathered in the fields. The cows don't interest me so much. I can only imagine their miserable existence while waiting for slaughter to be someones food. I love to see the seagulls, flying low, grazing the ground, soaring high above. Always I love the clear sky, spotted with the kind of clouds that are thick and fluffy, and seem close enough to touch! You can see the shadow they cast over the fields and hills and you are reminded of the simple joy of finding shapes within them.

I love the times when the highway in front of you looks wet, but when you get there it's dry. I don't know what causes that, but it mesmerizes me and can keep me entertained for far longer than it should!

We have gone through Saskatchewan, spent Canada Day in Medicine Hat and soon the open road will take us past Calgary, into the Kananaskis area and the beautiful mountains.

I will put my feet up now and get lost in the music. That's another thing I love. The right kind of music, loud so you can sing along. We have a great c.d, Songs For The Open Road. We can blast it and listen to Van Morrison, Lynrd Skynrd, BTO, Don McLean singing American Pie (which I have been known to sing really loud, to which Haley says "oh no" when it begins. It also has Cat Stevens, Peter Frampton, and would not be complete without Jim Croce with Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown! The best travel c.d ever! Do you have a favorite c.d for driving on the road?

As always, thanks so much for reading.

Tannis