Open Mouth, Insert Pixie Stick

Well, I've "done it now"...I sent an email to my state homeschooling organization and kind of "put it out there" that I'm available to give a humorous talk at next year's homeschooling convention. I just had a feeling that if I didn't ask I'd be pestered by thoughts that I should have tried.

The first time I had the idea to do an encouraging, stand up routine about homeschooling, I thought it was a result of watching too many episodes of "Seinfeld". (Not really; I don't really watch that show.) Then after the tide of my crazy life flowed out and the thought came to mind again in the temporary quiet, I thought maybe I just have a terrible need to get out and talk to adults more often and I'm willing to humiliate myself for a laugh. Is that brave? Or a little unbalanced?

Honestly, I think it's more a matter of empathy. I've had times where I've dipped so low that I feel I am in over my head and have no business trying to do this vitally important task of rearing, training and teaching these precious little people. A day will go totally awry and I'll be so frustrated or embarrassed or stressed and one of them will say the funniest thing or the difficulties seem so absurd that I will laugh and I just start to feel better.

We have a notebook where we keep journal entries of concerns about each individual child and ideas to solve them and a hope that writing it down somewhere will reinforce acting on those ideas.

One of the recent ones was a concern that my only introverted daughter, aged 5 (also 1 of 2 introverted children in our family of 9) is extremely verbal with siblings her height or below or in her pretend play but not in expressing her opinions to actual people 4 feet or taller, family or not. So I developed the idea of "Pixie Stick Therapy".

Sounds brilliant you say? (oh, you mumbled what an idiot...of course you didn't mean it...so...uh...where was I...)

Pixie Stick Therapy was a result of my having leftover pixie sticks from our Valentine's Skating Party hidden in the cupboard where not even my 12 year olds sugar radar could detect them. My idea was that Tammie might overcome her reluctance to assert herself for a bribe.

I pulled her aside and explained that she is smart and has good ideas but she should work on speaking up when she needs something or has something to say. To help her with this goal, I committed to giving her a pixie stick every day that she came to me without any prompting and asked me, in a loud clear voice, if she may have one.

I was pleased when it appeared on/off that this program was working and my daughter would actually remember and ask for her daily pixie stick. I was hopeful that this isolated exercise would translate to confidence in expressing herself without the reward.

Like the day shortly after when Tammie had wandered over to her dad, audibly sniffed and said, "boy, you smell like poop." (No, Gilbert's not a veternarian and yes, he does bathe.) There was a stinky baby near him just minutes before who had, at that moment, inconveniently disappeared. She flounced off before he could explain.

At first he was flabbergasted. Then we both burst out laughing.

At those times, I realize I'm taking some things way too seriously. And my ridiculous adult preoccupations with perfect math scores or spotless baseboards are not helping but choosing to have a good attitude just might. I'd like to promote the idea that homeschooling can be really enjoyable for us and our kids if we don't get too uptight about it. It's so sad when I hear someone has quit because they thought it was just too stressful.

Anyhow, pray this only works out if I'm "supposed" to talk and it would be encouraging. If it is a dumb idea, at least it will be "out of my system" rather than something I regret not trying. I'm happy to just go along encouraging moms one-to-one and keeping a little dignity that there are more people out there who DON'T know the inside scoop about my husband, the "poop", than there will be if I share stories on stage at next summer's convention.