Time to share

Look at that beautiful little girl.  My first girl.  I knew the moment she was born I would never let her be hurt.  But one day I did something that could have killed her.  I forgot about her in the car in the middle of summer.  I used to think I never would, how could anyone forget about a baby in the car, or anywhere!?  Here's my story.
We had all taken a trip tot he pool.  On the way back my seat broke and I was leaned way back in the car and couldn't see the front of my long car so I ran into the wall that surrounds my neighbors yard.  I busted a hole in it and I was super stressed.  I got the kids out of the car, gathered up all of the swimming stuff in my arms and rushed inside with burning feet.  I put everything away, got the boys occupied and called the insurance company, my neighbor, and found someone to fix the wall. I remember thinking at one time that it was oddly quiet and wondered where Elizabeth was.  I had my arms full so I must have brought her in and since it was nap time that was why it was so quiet.  I kept making phone calls.  I'm not sure how long she was there, but thank heaven my friend's sister came to visit and noticed her in the car. Suddenly I was the worst parent.  I didn't even deserve children.  I didn't tell anyone.  Only my neighbor and her sister, and my husband knew what happened. I was afraid my kids would be taken since I was so incompetent, I was afraid that people would judge me, I was ashamed so I tried to just forget it.
The week after Abigail was born I did it again.  I went to church with Benjamin and new born baby Abigail and I went into church without her.  I saw my reflection in the door and wondered why I had a huge diaper bag with me since Benjamin didn't need it and then I remembered.  Twice it happened to me, twice heaven looked out for my babies.  But it happened.  It happens.  It doesn't make me a bad mother.  In fact, anyone who knows me knows how totally dedicated I am to my children.  I am an excellent, attentive, involved mom, but still it happened to me.
It happens.  It happened when I was distracted and stressed, when something was new and out of the ordinary.  I don't judge those parents who forget.  They are not bad parents.  That made a mistake, one I guarantee they will never forget whether their child was harmed or not.  My heart breaks for them.  They have enough weighing no their mind and heart without hurtful comments from strangers.  Next time I will do more then refuse to be unkind, I will offer a kind word and i hope you do too.

I'm a mess

When we took Glen out of school almost two years ago and began home school I told John there was no going back.  He told me we had to be prepared to put them back in school, but I wouldn't hear it.  I agreed, promised that at the beginning of each year we would re-evaluate.  I love homeschooling.  It's fun, I love the time we get together, I love learning right along side my kids.  I love having them home.  It's tiring at times.  Sometimes I feel stressed, really stressed, but overall I love it.  I wouldn't change it for the world.
At the end of last school year I felt like it was time for Glen to go back part time.  I thought they would both enjoy it, really, but Glen needed it.  We brought it up in our family council and received such opposition, such tears, and pleadings to stay home that we decided to keep them home again this year. Then a neighbor girl told them how fun public school is.  She had stories of recess and cake on your birthday and talking at lunch, that before the end of 10 minutes she had convinced them both that they wanted to go to public school. I thought it would pass.  Nope.  They insisted.  They begged.  They tried to convince me.  I didn't want it, but I agreed to discuss it in family council and pray about it.
The first time we prayed about home school the answer was fairly obvious.  I was planning on letting Glen finish out the year and start the next year when Benjamin would be of an age to enter kindergarten. But half way through the year I had a strong and distinct impression that we were to start immediately.  Trial by fire.  I jumped headlong into it, clueless as to how to do anything because I thought I had another nine months to do research and make a plan.  I did it though.  Each month seemed to bring change.  Everything I tried led me to something else to try.  And then I felt like i hit my groove.  I had it figured out.  I sat down to create my own curriculum. I worked for months, painstakingly researching, developing, creating book lists or each topic, finding movies to go along with it, not to mention a huge list of crafts and activities for hands on learning.  I was stoked, I was ready and SO excited for the school year to start, I was going to start a month early, that's how excited I was.  Then on the last day of July, the day before I was set to start school this little bomb exploded and it's changed my world.
They want to go to public school. They want to go away.  Why am I having such a hard time coping with this?  It's not like I'm sending them to another country.  They will be gone for half the day.  It's down the street for crying out loud.  And yet I feel like I have lost something precious.  This is huge for me, and maybe it shouldn't be, but it is.  I never let John use the words "growing up"  I hate to hear it. They are the most loathed words I can think of.  But he said I have to let them grow up.  Ug!  I don't want to.  I don;t want them to grow up away from me, they can grow up here!
*sigh* I tell you, if it wasn't for a spiritual impression that this is what Heavenly Father wants I would stop it.  I don't care that it's what they want, they can't have it any more then they can have ice cream for dinner every night like they want.  Kids don't know what they want.  Can you hear the pouting?  I'm trying really hard to hide how distressed I am.  I want them to stay excited, at least part of me wants that, the other part is selfish and wants them to stay with me.    But I can be a good mom and let them have this amazing learning experience.  School really is amazing, and fun, and they will make so many friends.  I'll be a better mom for less stress and exhaustion.  The girls will get more learning time and who knows, maybe this will be temporary and they will decide to come back.  I'll have my curriculum waiting.

Doing my best

          I'm tired.  Not just any old run of the mill "I stayed up too late" tired.  I'm "chronic illness" tired.  Summer is really hard for me, the heat just zaps my strength and leaves me feeling really sick.  Probably 50% of my summer days, or more, are spent too sick and tired to do much.  Some days I have super mom days.  I get the whole house clean, make fancy home made meals, plan crafts and activities for the kids, spend time reading and playing with them and still have energy left at the end of the day to work out and then relax for an hour before bed. Unfortunately those days are few and far between.

          I'm not trying to complain, this is background (the Hansens strike again. Stay tuned for a little more background.)  For some odd reason, I love to read parenting magazines and articles, they inspire me and give me great ideas as I work each day to become a better mother, but sometimes there is that one that leaves me feeling guilty.  We all know the one, it's the "Cherish EVERY moment because your kids grow up so fast" article that can be found in every language and from every point of view.  I don't disagree with it.  Kids do grow up all too fast and I try to be there with my kids, not just next to them, as they learn and grow and explore, but I can't do it every day, I can't do it most days.  When I am having a bad day, too tired and sick to do much, and impatient to boot, there is less cherishing and more TV, they get banished to the basement to play instead of cuddling on the couch to read.  The constant kazoo playing grates on my nerves and I have to force the smile when she asks if I like her song.  I don't want to wrestle, I don't even want to hug.  I just hurt and I want everyone to go away so I can sleep it off.  But I'm a mom, so I can't banish them permanently, they come back from the dungeon for food before I banish them again with permission for yet another episode. I love you Netflix.  Those days it is hard to cherish every moment, I count it a success if I can make it through the day without yelling every moment.  And they are down there in the basement watching another episode of who knows what non-educational show and I am up on the couch feeling guilty because I'm obviously not cherishing EVERY SINGLE moment while in survival mode.  Here is the thing though, I still love those articles.  I still love the reminder to cherish every moment, even though I can't, I'm not sure any mom can, but I do believe that we all do our best.  We love our kids and we all do our best to teach them, spend time with them, and show them that we love them forever and always.  So I'm trying to stop feeling guilty about the bad days because my best on bad days, while not as good as my best on super mom days, is still my best.