Today, my mom and dad came over for a few hours to spend time with my girls. I had a couple of hours off in the middle of the day, so I dropped by home to spend time with all of them. My mom had baked a cake with Anna, the recipe shown below, and it was so good that I ate three pieces in a row!
My mom showed me the recipe they used for the cake and explained that I’d made this same cake back in August of 1994 as a surprise for the family. What? That 15-year-old insecure girl who couldn’t seem to do much right with her life made a CAKE? I remember those days painfully clearly, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot remember this cake-making that evidently occurred. As you can see by the recipe below, my mom takes very good notes! That makes them extra fun to read 25 years later.
Learning about my teenage cake-making episode transpired just at the right time–as these things often do. Recently I’ve been processing my long-held belief that “I am a bad person.” Memories of my mistakes and all of the bad things I have done are plentiful and easily accessible in my busy, ruminating mind. Not so accessible, however, are the things I did that were NOT bad. Like baking.
Back in August 1994, I was the age that Mia is now. Through Mia and with the help of this new cake-making information, there is a surge of compassion and love for my younger self. It’s like water is flowing into an empty cavern, filling it with life. The cavern has been dry for a long time.
Mia is wise beyond her years, a kind and genuine soul–which perhaps I was not. But, like Mia, I was trying to figure things out and doing the best I could. Figuring things out when you’re 15 years old is not an easy feat. I gossiped about people. I talked behind people’s backs. I went along with teasing a girl for being fat. I cheated on tests. I complained and was ungrateful, and the list goes on. But, was I really as bad as I’ve been telling myself? Look, I made this cake. For my family, as a surprise that made them happy. That is pretty sweet. That sweetness came from me.
Today, this was an epiphany: I am not an all-bad person.
Today, Anna learned finger knitting. After watching a video about it, she finger knitted on her own for 2 hours while I slept. The end product is a long scarf/ rope/ belt thing that she is very proud of. Next, she will create a beanie cap, also with finger knitting. Anna seems to be good with her hands and seems to learn detailed processes quickly. She is a joy to be with–a sweet and sensitive soul.
Another week of homeschool is under our belts. This week was less productive than previous weeks. Mia did not finish her work, but that is ok. She can catch up next week. Our rhythm seems to be moving toward child-led and very relaxed. I’m remembering how much there is to learn in normal life activities and that we learn best when we are interested and curious.
We are a month into the school year, and no one in the house has been sick! This is practically a miracle. The lowered stress level, increased sleep and decreased exposure to germs at school undoubtedly have kept us healthy so far.
This weekend, Mia starts her acting class and then has a sleepover birthday party with her best friends from her old school. The rest of us will be homebodies as we usually are.
I am struggling a bit with my mental health today. Seasonal changes are always difficult for me. I go through periods of depression at various times in the year, often aligning with changes in season. I’m also dealing with breast pain and PMS this week, which have worsened this month (probably due to my poor diet). My grandmother’s funeral is tomorrow in Finland. She was the last grandparent between Alan and me. I am thinking a lot about my family overseas and wishing I could be there with them.
Once again, I’m reminded that I need to take a step back and care for myself a little better. Things are best when I take time away from the work of motherhood and the work of being a therapist.
Last week I kept up on housework and laundry, made three meals a day plus snacks, did a big grocery trip with the children, took the girls on two outings, took Mia to acting and choir, and took care of another child for one day. I wrote out the meal plan for the week ahead, started a batch of sourdough starter, and made a batch of yogurt and kefir.
Anna did not take a nap this week on my clock, despite waking up too early and getting to bed too late. I went to work three evenings this week, came home from work and put the girls to bed and then caught up on housework. My New Year’s resolution of nurturing myself each day manifested itself in little ways: a bath one evening, reading a little here and there, and running errands by myself. Although grateful for those little luxuries, I want more.
Having meals and a neat house and children who were mostly happy was very nice. But I am now completely and utterly exhausted. I feel unappreciated and empty. I have given all that I have and am left yearning for something more–something that makes me feel special and appreciated and beautiful and worthy. Being a homemaker has got to be one of the most underappreciated jobs there is; it is a job that never ends, doesn’t pay, and whose daily work can be undone in a matter of moments.
This week I went above and beyond. Most weeks I don’t. I like the results of going above and beyond, except for the emotional deprivation that accompanies it. It is my dilemma.
These will be for sale in her Etsy shop this year, along with many more lovely handmade items.
Erin was my midwife’s apprentice for Anna’s birth. She is also a doula, an herbalist, and creator of natural, handmade bath and beauty products. She is an amazing person–an independent and creative spirit.
In our garden, flowers are for picking. We make sure to leave some for the bees, too, but what fun would it be to have flowers that can’t be picked?
Here is what Mia did with (while I took pictures of) our pick-able flowers the other day:
Watching Mia independently satisfy her curiosity and plan and execute her own projects is thrilling to me. No parental instruction or judgment (praise, criticism, or otherwise) was involved in this flower bowl project.
I told her I thought the bowlful of flowers was beautiful–a sincere comment that came from my heart. I consciously avoided saying “Good Job!” or giving her a grade for a job well done. Mia was completely satisfied; her motivation and her reward were purely intrinsic.
And that is why we unschool. To let her carve her own path. For herself.
Mia learned all kinds of things doing this project. Do I have any idea what those things were? Not really. Not because I am lazy or because I don’t care. But because it doesn’t really matter. Because unschooling is about trust.
Unschooling is trusting that life and learning cannot be separated. I trust that Mia’s desires and motivations are stepping stones to her ultimate destiny. I trust that she needs to draw for hours every day for weeks on end. I trust that sometimes she needs to daydream and be lazy instead of help prepare dinner. I trust that as long as I am closely tuned in, give her love, support, and space, that she will learn what she needs to live whatever life she chooses.