The day that Talia didn't start school, the light slanted golden and Autumnal. She wore pyjamas for most of the day, and a ridiculous fox romper that is far too small for her the rest. It was just a day like any other, to her.
The night before the day with the golden light, I threatened to put them all in school and cried myself to sleep feeling spectacularly Not Enough. The start of September has felt big this year. Weighty.
There are times when I feel like I'm trying to do three full time jobs and not ever really succeeding at any of them. This is something it's hard to write; home educators who experience wobbles and times when everything is hard work are supposed to suck it up and not talk about it. After all, it's our fault, it's our choice, we chose this. We could just put them in school and that would fix everything, right?
In some ways I could make my life easier. I would lose, though, too. I'm not here with these kids because I'm a martyr sacrificing my life for theirs. Just, like when I was breastfeeding a baby all night long, sometimes it's hard to remember the cuddly softness when it feels like work and I'm so very tired.
September feels like a new start. Since that initial flailing panic, I have seen my life with fresh eyes. Maybe I needed to let the spinning plates come crashing down so I could decide which plates are actually important. Maybe I just needed to allow myself that moment of protest to see the golden; it's okay for it not to be perfect and there are always more moments. Some of them glorious. I'll never get this time over again.
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