Oh little blog, it’s been a long time! I really have missed this space. Anyone who knows me well would likely agree that I grapple with ambivalence, perhaps more than most. Keeping track of the days via a journal is so satisfying when it is, though, isn’t it? I tend to do most of that via Facebook and Instagram these days, but the surrounding chatter (particularly the bleak reminders of reality via passionate and political Facebook posts) tend to cast journaling in a comparatively narcissistic light, that I’m not sure it deserves. Anyway, here I am, reservations and all.

Is there a better time for rekindling an old project than the transition from one season to the next? Summer is officially over tomorrow and we’ve been back at homeschool since the first week of the month. After the relative chaos of mostly-unstructured days with few plans, it is comforting to finally be settling into a routine, and hopefully soon, a sweater. In my casual attempt to remain casual about our studies, and to ground us maybe a little more solidly in the Waldorf camp, I bought a smallish, inexpensive chalkboard (and then, for balance, some fine quality chalks) to help organize us. Each evening, I write the next day’s schedule out, adding some really wonky little illustrations. The kids were so quick to latch on to this tiny change, and on the few days (of course, there have been a few days) when I’ve forgotten, or slept past my well-intentioned plan of chalking it up before they awaken, they have let me know of my failure in no uncertain terms.

What’s on the chalkboard varies by day, but it generally outlines activities and meals, in order, but without specific times. Adding times to anything causes my breathing to shift into the disordered category, and I like to avoid that as much as possible. Also, S is still working out how the days are separated from one another. I think calling too much attention to the hours within just one of them would boggle her 3.5 year old brain.

We do order the days of the week, of course: Mondays we meet outdoors, with homeschooling friends, at locations that change weekly, but which are based on a five week cycle. How long did that take to agree upon? Don’t ask. We did it. That is all that matters. It is brilliant and is an anchor for us all. Tuesdays A has a 3.5 hour class at a beautiful nature center, with friends he adores. Wednesdays are our quiet day. Today, for example, we had circle time, snack, a walk to the playground, lunch, handwork (finger knitting), quiet play, dinner, bath and bed. Of course, we are sure to leave space for arguments, bickering, injuries and parental burnout, as needs arise. Thursdays are library day and nature scout afternoon for A. Fridays were play date day, until this week, so that is in flux, but will surely settle soon. Saturdays we have soccer in the morning, then the rest of the weekend is general chaos with Papa, whom we see far too little of during the week. The weekends need a touch of the weekly rhythm, but I still feel somewhat odd trying to work that out with I, who, as I myself once was, is much more of a let’s-see-what-unfolds sort.

Having a regular outline of our days seems so simple, but it isn’t at all something that comes naturally to me. It felt incredibly forced at first, and even a little silly.

“Really? We need to write down when our meals are?”

But, this is the work of teachers, and full-time caregivers. Two titles I’ve been reluctant to ascribe to myself, for various reasons. (That is another, more interesting post for a future date.) The point is that lining up our rhythm has helped me insert and remove elements as necessary (and with the many homeschooling classes and opportunities here, it is necessary) as well as pointing to tiny blocks of time to carve out for myself, to breathe and reflect and dream and make. So, hooray for schedules, from one who once scoffed at them! May yours be full, balanced and satisfying.