Today was our “first” day of school. I say “first” because we never really stop learning around here, no matter what the season (just ask my kids how many
lectures educational talks they endure any time they’re contained. Like, say, at lunch). I’m used to carpe-ing the diem, you might say, and can turn positively any moment into a moment. It’s a gift. Whether the kids are as inspired by my fount of knowledge as I am remains open to debate. But I say all this simply to explain that when I say school starts, what I really mean is, we start doing math worksheets again.
So anyway, we started some math worksheets today. They were review pages and I was relieved that the kids aced them all. (Shoo. One less thing). Plus I always love starting out our school year with the kids believing that something changed during summer break, and that now–somehow–math is both easy and fun. I need it to be fun while it’s still sunny outside.
Today was, like so many homeschool “first” days before it, rather anti-climactic. It wasn’t fantastic. It wasn’t why-am-I-doing-this. In short, it felt like yesterday, but with math. So in honor of starting a new season, I decided I would do something that made me feel different.
I decided to exercise.
Which I did today, for the first time in…well, it’s been awhile. It hurt and I sweated, which sort-of reminded me of childbirth. But I kept reminding myself that my kids were already born and standing next to me. In fact, they were watching me labor, so it wasn’t really the same thing. My middle son can be a real sweetie, if he so chooses, and he encouraged me with inspirational sayings like, “Mom, good job! Does that hurt? Are you sweating? You are already thin. Your hips are small, and so is your, what is that?” (encircling his waist).
Ay carumba, why couldn’t he have said such things right after I’d given birth to him? I could have used the
Anyway, my kids watched me suffer through a Pilates/cardio fusion for 46 minutes, and I did not quit. Oh, I groaned and spoke to the lady on the TV, but I did not quit. Afterward I felt so good it was crazy. My headache had gone away and I didn’t feel like snapping at the kids. As an added bonus I imagined that maybe I’d set a good example, too . And now I can’t quit because the kids’ll be watching me. Mommy guilt can be an effective motivator, I’ve found. (I did not say a healthy or right motivator. I said effective).
And so, because no one ever has to stand over me to tell me to:
- make my bed
- read good books
- eat at a reasonable hour
- study Spanish
- keep on writing,
I’ve decided that the way I’ll homeschool myself this year is to focus on working out. It’s gonna hurt, but it’ll be worth it.