Our turf looks starkly different this year. Oldest and Middleson spend their days at a brick and mortar school. Babyboy is still at home with me, on familiar turf. This Fall has included smooth adjustments and transitions for all -- uniforms, a school bus, sack lunches, teachers other than me, and homework.
Yes, HOMEWORK. For the homeschooler, all work is homework but in a different, earlier-in-the-day kind of way. Yesterday, Oldest hopped off the school bus in a panic from head to toe. "I FORGOT MY HOMEWORK! I can't believe this. What am I going to do? I'll have to pull my card!" He squealed. There was confusion at the end of the day about whether he was taking the bus or getting picked up. I'm thankful he so badly wanted to get home. But, in the midst of it all, he forgot his homework. I didn't forget my homework. He doesn't forget his. We don't really forget things. We are responsible and conscientious to a fault.
Oh, I felt his pain. We are two peas in the same pod. That's like me forgetting to do my taxes. Oldest said he would have to "pull his card". I don't know what that means, but that sounds seriously horrible. Is it like a jail for kids who forget their homework? Outwardly, (proud mom moment) I was calm and told him not to worry about. Inwardly, with rapidly beating heart, I was pacing.
Our personality includes traits like getting it done, right away, all the way....as perfect (the dreaded P word) as possible the first time. It is black/white. Work first. Play if there is time. We don't want a blemish on our slate even if it doesn't really matter. Everything matters, right?
Since I could identify with Oldest and his feelings, I suggested going to school early Thursday to complete the assignment. We can go at 4 AM if we need to! We will do whatever it takes. I emailed his teacher and didn't hear back. Truthfully, I forgot all about it.(See I do forget things...I was mistaken, your honor.)
This afternoon I received a reply from his teacher. She let Oldest complete his homework today under the flustered circumstances yesterday. Then she wrote, "I also tried to make him understand that even if there wasn't an excuse it would not be the end of the world....mark your card....get the homework slip signed...bring it the next day. He doesn't have to be perfect. The world is still spinning."
Oh I smiled. The grace. The Love. The Deeeeep Breath. The lack of pressure. She was speaking to me just as much as she was my son. Self induced panic results from expecting perfection. Life includes failure, tardies, mistakes, messes, and blemishes.
Was Jesus "late" when Lazarus died? The healing where Jesus put mud on a man's eyes had to have been messy. Stinky walky traveling disciples' feet. The broken bottle of perfume on Jesus'' feet. Who cleaned up the glass chards? That could have been a safety hazard. She could have been sued in this day and age.
Our failures and shortcomings and imperfections serve a greater purpose. Once again, they point us to a Saviour, who heals our soul brokenness. They cause us to NEED Him. For we cannot save ourselves even if we could somehow present ourselves perfect.
For me and oldest, two peas in a pod, we need to remember the world is still spinning. He has the whole world in His hands.
Celebrating IMperfection,
Mommy on the boys' turf
