It’s Time

The art supplies are purchased.


My “Teaching Cart” is loaded up and ready to roll.


The copywork for the week is laid out.


The chalkboard is freshly scribbled with motivation for us all.


I’ve got my game face on (in between bouts of breathing into a paper bag) and we’ll make our “soft launch” bright and early tomorrow.

This is the week where I figure out all the things I forgot to account for with the new schedule. We’ll do everything BUT Tapestry of Grace until I’m comfortable with the schedule and then we’ll launch The Whole Shebang.

Every year, I add a new student, this time around it’s Willa. She’s ready, but she hasn’t heard me weep my way through Sunrise, Sunset whilst sharpening her pencils. She may change her mind…

Once we figure out our rhythm, I’ll break it down for you and give you a run down of our curriculum, etc. For now, I’m gonna hit the hay because the new schedule dictates a MUCH earlier wake up time for mom and dad.

If you don’t hear from me for awhile, it’s because I’ll be too tired to lift my hands to the keyboard.

When are YOU starting back to school? Are you already knee deep in math drills? Or are you sticking your fingers in your ears and singing, “la la la” until after Labor Day????





BREFFUST and Cards

Usually on the weekends, Andrew and I will crawl out of bed long enough to get Finn up and then we let the kids watch TV for awhile so we can wake up slowly, like normal people.

I’ve told you before how Finn crawls into bed with us, I hand him my phone, and he hangs out while we doze. It’s all very cozy and cuddly.

But not this morning.

This morning I couldn’t make my arms and legs move properly, so I asked Ian to pull Finn out of the bed for me. A few minutes later, I heard Finn’s bare feet slapping their way through my bedroom door.

He tiptoed around to my side of the bed and stared at my lifeless form. “Mama?”

“Mph,” I said.

I watched him through one eye barely open. His face broke out in a grin and he threw himself at the bed to join me. Normally, he crawls over me, I get in a snuggle, and then he sits on Andrew’s head until we get him settled under the covers between us. Instead, he climbed right on top of me, crouched on all fours, and bounced.

“Det up! Det up, Mama! I wan’ BREFFUST.”


He bounced again, just in case my spleen hadn’t heard his demand.


He stuck a knee in my rib cage and headed to Andrew’s side to beg. Andrew wrapped him up in a too-tight cuddle that sent him scrambling for my side of the bed, giggling. “No, Dad-dee. No. BREFFUST.”

His little form climbed back on top of my sad carcass for another bounce. “MAMA! DET UP! TIME ‘A EAT BREFFUST! I WAN’ BREFFUST!”

He reinforced his message with an elbow to my collar bone and a quick nuzzle of my neck. I tried to wrap my arms around him for a hug but he wasn’t having it. “Noooooo, Mama. BREFFUST…”

And he wriggled away. I planted him on the floor while I tried to free my limbs from the covers. “Pweeeeeeeeze, Mama????”

I shuffled in the direction of my robe. “Okay, Mama! You getta bwue wobe.”

I reached for my ugly blue paisley robe. “This one?”

“Yep. You dot it! Now… Wet’s GO! Wet’s Go Det BREFFUST!!!”

And we did.

Because my two year old is the boss of me.


As it should be, Ma.

And in case you didn’t already think that this kid is gonna rule the world some day, watch him play Go Fish with authority… like he KNOWS it.