I’m kicking myself right now. I know what happened, I know why I did it, but I’m still annoyed at me.
I finished a project a while back and skipped a few steps here and there. Now I’m having to go back and fix it – something that was on my list of things to do, but not super urgent. Now it’s past time to fix it.
It’s spring here, and the warmer weather is tentatively tiptoeing into the area. The trees are blooming (hello pollen!) and the flowers are starting to put out tight little buds. Spring is here.
I should probably preface this by stating that yes, all children learn differently, and my viewpoint is slightly skewed to start with.
I realized today as I taught art class just how much I expect out of my students. They’re all elementary age kids ranging from ages 5 to 11. Today was our class about Yayoi Kusama. She’s a famous Japanese artist who has gone viral because of her infinity room installations. Celebrities take selfies in them, and people line up for hours to get 15 seconds inside one. As artists go, she’s pretty cool.
But, she’s also an eccentric personality. That’s partially because of her life-long battle with mental illness. And today, as I talked about how her hallucinations influenced her infinity rooms, it hit me that “hey! This isn’t a normal elementary art lesson here!”
“Wanna go home, mommy!” he wailed.
I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. “I know, son, I know. I do too.” I don’t know how to explain it to him. I don’t know how to tell him that home is a memory, a wonderful few days in his mind that will never exist again.
I’ll admit it, the laundry got ahead of us. It piled high in baskets strategically placed against the counter. It overflowed, dumping snow pants and underwear onto the floor every time someone walked past. It sat … silently waiting, for over a week. I wasn’t able to do much about it because of health reasons, and our crazy busy schedule just piled on more and more. So, laundry infested my kitchen.
Today we dealt with it. Most of it.
I know I’m probably going to catch some flack for saying this, but my kids are old enough to help out around the house. We’re not harsh, we don’t demand child labor from them, but we do expect them to practice responsibility. Of course, the level of responsibility varies from child to child due to age.