I'm home schooling Michael again. We put him in a charter school for a month or so. Yesterday was out first "official" day back to home school (meaning that I was finally able to get up the nerve to call the school after being out over a week.) Michael started teaching himself to read shortly after turning two. We were impressed and happy for his interest, although this came with some inconvenience. Up until he started to crack the code my mom was able to "read" signs at parks, restaurants, and grocery stores. With disappointment in her voice she'd let Michael know that the park was closing now, or that the candy aisle was, sadly, closed for repair. Although I fancy that my parenting style is generally more honest and direct than that of my parents I'll admit to using this technique a few times early on  to take the easy way out and avoid a meltdown.  By two he could read simple words like "Open," "Welcome," and "Please take One." He  started to ask for proof of the off limits candy, the closed store, or the park's odd lunchtime closure.  He was on to us. Somewhere during that time my Uncle John gave us a computer and someone bought a Reader Rabbit game. It happened fast.  He was motivated. I can't remember him spending much time teaching himself the basics- he read The Cat in the Hat by three. He now reads adult level material with a speed an accuracy that surpasses his dad and I in our tired moments. 

If a high intellectual capacity, enthusiasm and precocious ability were the only factor in school success Michael would be fine. We could happily enroll him in our local public school and drop him off each day, lunch box in hand and ready to learn. I was a public school teacher for ten years, though, and I can say with a certainty of someone with experience in the trenches that academic ability is a small piece of the public grade school pie.  

We're leaving soon to see the parked Rose Parade floats in Pasadena.  I watched a PBS program on brain health before I went to bed last night. One of the prescriptions for a healthy brain is to notice what I love about my life more than what I don't love. As I lay in bed before drifting off to my usual night of broken, interrupted sleep I tried to find things I love about my life.  I can't elaborate much right now, but I didn't come up with much.  I vowed to wake up this morning, list five things I'm grateful for, and meditate on them throughout the day. I came up with two, and they're shaky.  Facebook was one, and this concerns me because this has nothing to do with my family. I love my children and in my heart I'm grateful, but I've got so many stressors in my life it's hard to come from a grateful place. One thing I'm clear about is that it is absolutely imparitive that I change my attitude and focus on the positive.  I  must make it a practice, especially during this difficult time.  Blessings might not be making themselves as clear as I'd like them to be, but that doesn't excuse me from seeking them out and finding them, and making the best of them.  I forfeited my right to be a negative, self loathing person when I had children.  Today I'll look for the light, seek out the blessings, and be the presence I'm needing in my life. 

Another new year. I found myself feeling pressured this morning- unprepared. Like I was about to take a test I hadn't studied for. I have a few resolutions I'd like to make, but I find this time of year an ironic time for resolutions. It's colder than usual, for starters. Granted, in my part of the world the sun is shining, the breeze is calm, and I wouldn't even need a sweater to enjoy the day outside. The evenings are cold, though, and the days are at their shortest. We're all still craving pancakes for breakfast, spaghetti with meatballs, and hot chocolate. This leads to moodswings that can only be alleviated by the hair of the dog, thus keeping us on an ongoing cycle of indulgence. I'm still nursing, too, and this adds a caloric need to my diet that can't be met with juiced kale, fruit salads, and alfalfa sprouts.
Our budget's been tapped out from Christmas so an about face diet change to gluten free, sugar free, raw organic foods sounds out of our price range. Costco has it's limitations, albeit with it's huge bags of organic baby carrots and triple containers of milk. Even Michael's beloved organic two percent milk would a casualty of one of the resolutions I've been toying with- the diet overhaul. I've decided not to add to my list of Things to Feel Guilty About by trying to start a diet overhaul in the middle of winter. Scratch that resolution. I'll resolve to enter the "research" phase and buy a healthy diet book, or crack open the half dozen I already own.
I learned long ago not to get too specific with what I resolve to change about myself. My psyche doesn't like being micromanaged. The older I get the softer and more "user friendly" my resolutions become. This year I'll resolve to lighten up. I'll leave more beds unmade and look at the floor less as I'm walking around the house. I'll leave dishes in the sink overnight more, and I'll be okay with that. I won't ask Michael if he has to pee when he comes up to tell me or show me something "cool." I'll snuggle with him in the morning when he comes in my room (after 6, of course), without asking him if his nighttime pullup's dry. I'll let him chew as much gum as he can fit in his mouth until he runs out. ( I draw the line at gum smacking, though- I'm only human.) I'll read lighthearted parenting books mixed in with light, bubblegum fiction. I'll watch the news less. I'll meditate more. Stretch more. Do more and less of whatever I can to achieve the goal- to be a lighter, happier person- to lighten up. I'll also resolve to lighten up about lightening up. No pressure either way.