My Mama's Feet

I feel a new kind of tired these days.  I'm surrounded by piles of books, papers, pencils, word cards.  I have play dough at my feet and bills beside my aging hands as I type.  Aging- or maybe they look worse because I keep meaning to put lotion on these things I use so much and they end up looking just awful because I crash into bed at night forgetting.  Heck, I'm probably aging them by not applying lotion.  Not stopping to apply lotion.  (I'll probably regret this when I'm 60.  Actually I will because my mom says so.)  

My nails are getting longer and I haven't "shaped" them in quite some time.  My awesome sister lovingly gave me a gift card to a local mani pedi place I haven't taken the time to use.  I haven't stopped to call and make that appointment.

I have a writing class I started and am two assignments away from finishing.  I haven't stopped to finish them so they wait.  My patient teacher reminded me just the other day and I want to, but wanting and doing are two separate things if you just can't stop.  

I have a few piles of laundry to fold and put away.  "Few" meaning there is no where to sit on the sofa so the girls are on the floor right now.  With a little prodding they will fold.  In a second I will ask them.   But I have to stop to ask them and I know several questions, discoveries, and perhaps a laundry fight experience will distract me, so I don't stop this blog because I will never finish it.

My feet look like my mama's did when she was my age.  My mama is the hardest worker I know.  She was a full time mom and a full time teacher.  Her feet frequently needed a pedi.  (I'll stop here because Southern ladies do that sort of thing.)  She worked hard on those feet.  Some teachers would sit at their desks and teach, mom was always walking around her classroom, keeping kids on track, reaching those sweet souls that needed some extra loving.  They don't forget her and she still remembers all their names.  

I guess I'm on a new kind of schedule.  Ever since we began the journey of homeschooling I feel a new kind of tired.  I'll be honest with you- there isn't much time for anything else.  I told my husband I treat it like I've gone back to work.  Because I freaking have.  Homeschool is round the clock work.

So, friends, this is the reality of homeschool and mothering, spoken by a tired mama:  the work never stops.  

I suppose you read the above and wonder what I'm doing all day long.  I once had a neighbor ask me when my oldest was born what I did all day.  She had never been an at-home-mom.  The mystery of the stay at home mom?  I don't know.  Let's just say I've never spent my time with bon bons and TV all day.  It's not my style.  (I can't even stop when I need to, OK?)

I pray my time is spent on the Eternal.  

What have I been doing with the help of God this season?  Well, it's Christmas folks, and I have been in conversation with two very talkative little girls about why we do what we do.  Jesus came in the humble form of a baby- humiliating if you ask me- a great God coming down in human form to reach us.  To reach me.  They need to know that He came as a gift.  I crave their questions, discoveries, excitement.  Children are more open to the magical.  His Story lives in my heart and I can't think of anything more magical.  

I teach, I clean, I fold, I bathe, I tote to and from lessons, to classes, to church, to play dates. I work out.  I try to shower at some point.  I cook, I clean, I plan, I budget, I wash, I mop.  I read, I research, I plan.  I nurture.  I hug.  I kiss.  I purchase, I prep, I fail.  I learn, I hope, I throw it all up in the air and save it for another day.  I fail.  I'm slowly learning. I forgive.  I'm forgiven.  I love.  I have no regrets.  Let me repeat, I have no regrets. 

I'm surrounded by my students sunrise to sundown and I have no regrets.  I'm tired and I'm not blaming anyone but this blog is true to me and I'm honest.  I'm doing eternal work and God sees.  He hears.  He understands and He has built in rest breaks, time outs, refueling periods in my path already planned for me.  Do I have joy, real joy, that this world and my possessions could never provide?  Resounding yes.

My mama's feet are beautiful.  Her hard work was put into raising us.  She got one shot at it and she's enjoying the fruit of her labor now.  Soft as a baby's you-know-what.  Beautiful polished toes.  Rested feet from years and years of hard work.    

Her feet hold hope for me now.  When I look at them, I know this is a short, precious season with lots of hard work weaved in.  The rewards I see might just be more visible in the Eternal.  Here on Earth, I'll take my payment in hugs, kisses, love, provision for my family.  That feeling of peace- knowing what I'm doing is all part of God's good plan.

There is a break coming.  There is Hope in the Eternal.  I am not a proponent of letting myself go, and let's just say maybe the learning curve of self care and rest is a steep one for me (I humbly will receive prayers for such things because I'm working on it), but the work will eventually end.

My prayers are that His words will be, "Well done my good and faithful servant."