The fruit that's in season.

This morning, Eva tiptoed across the living room in the darkness and gently knocked on my door. “Come in,” I answered, barely above a whisper. I was ready; this first moment of the day is quite possibly my favorite. I scooted my Bible and notebook out of the way to make room and set my lidded travel coffee cup on my bedside ledge (having learned my lesson from Monday’s coffee debacle).

She slid the door open and stood in my doorway in her floral nightgown, her little eyes all squinty and her blonde hair wildly tousled and tangled from sleep, clutching her mint green silky bamboo blanket and stuffed weighted unicorn. She crawled up in my bed on Kelley’s side, scooted under the covers, and snuggled close, pulling the quilt up under her dimpled chin.

Almost every morning she wakes up when Kelley leaves for work and hoists herself up in my bed while the boys sleep. It’s a small moment, but I can smell her coconut detangler in her hair as I scoop her up in my arms and brush her bangs back to kiss her forehead, only her and I in the still of the morning, and I just want her never to stop tiptoeing in my room to snuggle, even when she’s a full-grown adult with a high-paying job and a studio apartment in the city. (Or whatever. You know what I mean.)

I’m really thankful for moments like these, especially with this being the first month back to school. My emotions are a mixed bag, honestly. No matter how much mental and emotional prep work I go through each summer to teach from rest and protect their wild and free hearts, I still have to fight the urge to cling to my lengthy lesson plans with impressive rigidity and attempt to cram as much knowledge as I can down their throats throughout the course of the day, like trying to make them eat their vegetables or take their vitamins.

Here, let’s do flash cards! We have to finish our Summer Bridge books, so one lesson every day in those! Your first essay is due Friday! Here’s your read-aloud and your independent reading and your for-fun reading and science reading! Here’s a video about Australia! Let’s finish before lunch so we can study the world map and memorize all the continents and countries and bodies of water before Dad gets home for dinner!

Every. Single. Year.

Maybe it’s because I know homeschoolers still have somewhat of a reputation of being out-of-touch and weird (think denim jumpsuits and home-cut bangs), which means we study extra hard to prove everyone wrong and make sure our children’s education is setting them up for success and teaching them appropriate social skills. I also fight the panic that there’s so much to teach and time is running out, and by mid-morning everyone’s in tears, including the dog (who’s still a little mad that Kelley went back to work).

But there are so many sweet surprises along the way, and every one of them just makes homeschooling that much more fulfilling.

Like the other day, when Eva fell apart during her math lesson, and Liam (Liam! Who normally thinks his sister is the proverbial thorn in his side) went and grabbed her unicorn and blanket for her and wrapped her in a hug. “It’s okay, Eva. I sometimes have trouble with math, too,” he said, patting her head. It was a few minutes before I could scoop up my heart, which had melted into a puddle on the kitchen floor, and stuff it back into my chest.

Or when the kids spent hours one afternoon on the wooden tree-fort playground with their friends, “insulating” the fort with dried grass clippings and leaves for the upcoming winter as if they were pioneers.

Homeschool kids, amiright?

Or the days earlier on in the month when we finished our studies quickly and spent the afternoon at the pool.

Or last night, when we hosted a family cuddle party on our bed while Riley read everyone a book about a wombat named Chance.

Or the afternoon we spent fumbling through OneRepublic’s “Sunshine”—Liam and me on acoustic guitars, Riley on his cajon, and Eva belting out vocals into a wooden spoon microphone. (My dream of a family band is finally coming true! I can practically hear it now!)

It’s fine. We’re all fine. We’re all going to be fine.

To be completely transparent, I’ve felt a little lost since we got to Maryland. Now that we aren’t traveling and are working to replenish our savings and catch up financially, I’ve been searching for contract or remote work, with no luck. It seems that after a decade out of the creative field, I am way out of my league (even with 20 years of experience! Ugh.) It’s a whole new ballgame, this business of job hunting as a writer, and I’ve been on the bench for too long. Like, I am the homeroom mom to all the other candidates, bringing them snacks and smoothing their hair and straightening their ties. (Do people even wear ties anymore? I’m not sure.) Not to mention that we are still finding our footing here and have yet to dive into any regular activities or community, so life’s been looking a little strange and lonely, like parachuting into a foreign country of which you don’t speak the language or recognize any of the landmarks. It’s been difficult to get my bearings.

So homeschool is the one thing that I have going at the moment—which I realize is a blessing, and I’m grateful for it; don’t get me wrong. But I still fight this ambitious alter ego that strives for a bigger purpose, more vision, clearer direction. And there are days where I feel like it’s not enough, like I’m not doing enough with my life. As if training, discipling, loving, and educating my children isn’t a worthy cause, or quite possibly my life’s most important work, just because it doesn’t bring in a paycheck. On those days, it can be tempting to overcompensate, to use my kids’ educational experience as validation of my own worth as a person. Hence, all the stacking of assignments and cramming of knowledge.

But like the singer/songwriter Ben Rector says, I’m learning how to eat the fruit that is in season.

This phase of life may not look how I think it should. It may come at a slower pace, but that doesn’t mean it’s unfruitful. We all know that slow cookers yield the tastiest meals, right? In fact, the rewarding thing about home education is that I can already catch glimpses of the fruit budding, taking shape, ripening, and brightening, and man is it sweet! These slower mornings full of cuddles and afternoons of sunshine-dotted walks and evenings with home-cooked meals around the table—this time at home with my kids is such a treasure, but it won’t last forever. So, this school year, I’m re-learning how to embrace the season we’re in, see the beauty and fruitfulness in it, and soak up every drop of goodness.