Packing Up

Today I breathe a huge sigh of relief...  almost.  It would have been our last day of school, had not Andrew left his math book in Geoff's car yesterday.  As it is, the book is half an hour away, and the boys are celebrating the end of the school year by running around the house calling the dog "Cerberus."  One of the benefits to exposing your children to Greek mythology is the way they incorporate myths into their play.  In this case, I smile at their clever play on words.  Sara the dog becomes Cerberus the guardian of the underworld.  She also gets a second breakfast from a boy who thought to feed her.  Under the circumstances, I think she deserves it.  Her role in the game cannot be a coveted one.  Besides, she has two extra mouths to feed.

So, much as I scowl at the gray, thundering sky that has propelled my children out of the big, wild backyard into the house I had hoped to clean this morning, at least I have the assurance that they have learned something over the past eleven months.

Yes, eleven months.  We began school in June with the hope of being done by early to mid-April.  Breaks for Vacation Bible School at our church and a friend's, visits from grandparents, and trips of our own - all very good things - pushed the blessed end of the school year back further and further.  Ending at the beginning of May seems early, but when you start in June...  Well, I want to throw a real, whooping and hollering, singing and dancing party as we gather round the banker's box and toss in everything we've done this year before sending the box to the deep, dark recesses of the attic.

It's not that my feelings about home schooling have changed significantly since the day I decided to give it a try.  I still love it, but we come to a point every year when I'm tired of looking at the same books, tired of the papers that need to be filed, tired of the projects I've put off "till a calmer day," tired of the same old stuff and ready for something new.  The same could be said of the boys, though they hardly know how to express these emotions civilly.  I completely understand, though, when they tell me they are done with school.  We all need a break.

I would throw that whooping and hollering, singing and dancing end-of-the-year party, but honestly, the sounds of my children playing in another room are so much sweeter than party sounds.  Plus, in the time it has taken to write this, the thunder has stopped.  (Back outside, my dears...)  In addition, I have good reason, in the shape of a large cubby-hole bookcase that has filled me with organizational hope since I first spied it on IKEA's website and that has been promised to me as a Mother's Day gift, to buckle down and not only pack up last year's books, but clear out our entire school/computer room, a task much easier to accomplish without the sort of curious help my children are prone to offer whenever long neglected books and possibly art supplies are involved.  

I'm not quite ready to fill my bookcase up with next year's books, but I do look forward to planning out Fourth Grade, Second Grade, and a little taste of K4 for a certain young lady.  But the fun of planning and the excitement over a new year are not for this post.  Tomorrow, we'll worry about that final math lesson.  Today, I'm basking in the glory of a hard-earned year's end.  

And Cerberus stands guard...  at least until she realizes the game is over and plops down on the nearest soft surface for her morning nap.