Calendar Pages

I have a giant paper calendar hanging on the side of the fridge, and today all the old sheets spilled out from it and scattered all over the floor. This particular calendar was started in July of 2019 when we were brand spanking new to homeschooling, and overly optimistic about what we might do with our newfound freedom from school. The pages are chock full of appointments and lessons and classes and overnights at my parents and week long trips to the Poconos and lots and lots of trail races. Funerals in Maryland and Girl Scout camping trips and penciled in times to go grocery shopping before the camping trips because cooking for 100 requires a lot of grocery store trips. Then there is a blank October sheet, because we were on a road trip for that entire month, but you can see us hopping back in immediately following that road trip, all through the winter months, also known as birthday season in my house. The March calendar starts off full...a trip to the Smithsonian museums and Girl Scout cookie sales and gymnastics classes. The activities after mid-month are half-erased. April is blank except for notations where we picked up groceries or otherwise went out into the public world. For personal contact tracing purposes, I think, although that seems a little silly now. May has a variety of Zoom meetings penciled in, as we've begun to accept this way of doing things. But mostly white space.

The days don't feel like white space. There is a lot of trying to stay one step ahead of the kids, and their chaos and messes. Failing horribly at this, of course, because reactionary parenting is for amateurs and won't get you anywhere. We have a lot of unfinished landscaping projects and mud is everywhere, little muddy footprints tracking up the stairs. Muddy fingerprints along the edge of the door frame. There are so many dishes. Every day I say a prayer of thanksgiving for the dishwasher.

It's simultaneously fine. We did a book exchange with some friends and they sent the most delightful books. The food is very good, every day. We currently have a lot of turnips and I baked them into a gratin tonight, alongside a roasted chicken, and spring greens mix salad. And that's just a Tuesday. On Sunday, M and Laurel baked a pie with the best crust I have ever tasted. The kids craft elaborate worlds in Legos and swing upside down on the jungle gym while chatting with our neighbors over the fence. Homeschool is fizzling out, but everyone is doing great at math. We are digging deep into our collection of books and recently discovered that none of us had read the Wizard of Oz yet. M made me a bird feeder out of scrap wood and a whiskey bottle and it's absolutely captivating to watch who comes to visit.

It's a train wreck in slow motion on the outside, but a nice warm cocoon in here. Next month is the last page of this calendar. Should I get a new one? I don't know what to write on the pages.