Last month I took a picture of a car on fire.

Ben and I were on our way out on our last date in California, and there was an unusual amount of traffic on the Bay Bridge for that hour.  There is always traffic in the Bay Area somewhere (I’m looking at you, Livermore), so it didn’t seem too terribly odd.  It wasn’t until we started getting slimmed down to two lanes, and got halfway across the bridge when the source of the traffic became abundantly clear:

 

 

It didn’t seem as though anyone was hurt or injured, or even concerned.  There was a highway patrol car parked behind it, but I didn’t see any fire engines or paramedics on their way (yet, I’m sure).

It was just a car on fire.  On the Bay Bridge.

I posted it on Twitter, and an independent news site contacted me and wanted to use it.  I honestly am not sure if they did or not, but it was kind of neat to be noticed!

One of their marketing people asked if I would like to be part of their network, and post other pictures…to which I said, Sure!  Why not?  I can be a homeschooling mom by day, crazy journalist on the side.

 

The problem is, I don’t really go anywhere.

I navigate between rooms.  Orchestrating lessons for the kids, cleaning the kitchen, tidying up, doing some reading, writing here and there, making meals, naps, showers, clothes, etc.

Soo, I haven’t been able to take any pictures of things happening outside of the house, necessarily.

Sooo, I guess that dream of investigative insider rebel journalist is kinda shot.

No, Rebel Journalist….not Rebel Wilson. 

But these experiences make you wonder what it is, exactly, that you are dreaming about during the day.

It is clear to me that if journalism was a passion of mine, I could just get in the car at any point and go see the action.  But I actually feel a little uncomfortable snooping on people and writing about their lives.  It’s a wee invasive.  And nosy.

 

     Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.

–Harriet Tubman

 

I am a dreamer by nature.

I think I’ve spent more hours in my life dreaming of things than actually doing anything, truth be told.  There are so many places I’d love to see, and people to meet, and cultures to explore.  My soul is definitely an explorer, and I love when I get to do a little cultural spelunking.

So, if I am not a journalist and I am not dreaming of journalism, that got me thinking to myself, “Self, of what, exactly, are you dreaming?”

 

Time

I honestly dream of having more hours in the day.  More time to spend at the lake with Ben and the kids.  More days in the weekend.  Longer mornings putzing around in pajamas.  Never ending evenings sipping irish coffees with Ben in front of the fire.

The amount of longing I have for more time honestly takes the top of the list.  I am not an overly sentimental woman (Valentine’s Day, I’m looking at you), but I passionately love what I love.  I love spending time with my family, and I am rather sad when we have to put the kids down for bed, or leaving the lake or whatever we are doing.  I love watching my older kids mature and understand more as they get older…but I am so glad I still have a few little ones who are still crazy in childhood and curl up on my lap.

I definitely dream of time more than anything.

 

Beauty

This is a broad stroke, and it isn’t exactly what you think.

I dream about the beauty of a clean room that doesn’t have Risk figures and Cheerios imbedded in the carpet/couch/baseboards.  I dream about the beauty of gardens.  I dream about the beauty of wild colors in my house to draw the beauty out of life and deliver it into our souls.  I think about the beauty of having a fit body (one day).  I get distracted with the sun dust floating in front of windows during the afternoon.  I may not live in ballrooms adorned with gold archways and stained glass windows, dressed in corsets and silk…maybe I spend a little too much time putting myself into vintage dreams.  But the beauty in life is always in the details, and the details will always add up to a larger, more beautiful equation.   That is why all the little things matter, and it is important to see the beauty in even the smallest digit.

 

Less

On a more serious note, I dream of less.  Less struggles, less problems, less worries, less concerns, less pointless stuff.   Less wandering around aimlessly.

 

More

And definitely more.  More time, more opportunities, more compassion, more deliberate actions.  More thought put into what I’m doing; what I’m saying.

 

Zen

Earlier today I put on a bra (this is a thing) and got on the treadmill and did some running.

I have been gaining weight this season, and it is getting pretty bad.  It isn’t so much what I am eating, although that obviously has a big impact, but it is that I am not moving much these days.  I’m not going outside, I’m not taking walks, I’m not taking the kids to the park (it’s cold.).  I also don’t have any groups to go to these days, so I don’t have any significant reason to get out of the house on a day to day basis.  I did take the kids to the zoo last week, and that was fantastic.  We all loved getting out of the house and walking for hours outside.  But life is a little slow, otherwise, and I’m not moving much.

This takes a significant toll on you over time, and I have found myself budgeting time laying in bed during the day, which is never good.

So, I dream of a balance in myself.  I am naturally an active person, and when I am not involved with projects or groups, and am just doing the dishes all day…it will throw my balance off significantly.  Right now my balance is off, and I am thinking of ways to get my balance back.

Like taking an afternoon walk and enjoying the sun.

 

Last night I had a really weird dream.  I dreamt that I was married to Ben…but we weren’t married, all along.  No reason why.  So we were going to have a wedding, to finally “officially” be married.  And I got cold feet and stood him up.  I have no idea why.  But we still stay together for another 8 years, and we decide we are going to have a wedding, for serious this time.  This time he calls me while I am standing on the altar and says he got cold feet…but he’ll meet me at home.

I was okay with this, and I just go home.  And we go along with life as normal.

This dream just rattled around in my head all morning because it was weird.  I mean, obviously weird.  But the dream felt very normal, which was even more weird.

The feeling I had at the end was that I was confused how we had been going through all the right steps of being married, and all this time we weren’t actually married.

The thing that is confusing me the most is it doesn’t feel like this dream was about me and Ben.  It was about something else, and I have to figure out what it is.

 

“To dream of a marriage signifies commitment, harmony or transitions. You are undergoing an important developmental phase in your life.  The dream may also represent the unification of formerly separate or opposite aspects of yourself.”

 

“To see or attend a wedding in your dream symbolizes a new beginning or transition in your current life. A wedding reflects your issues about commitment and independence. Alternatively, your wedding dream refers to feelings of bitterness, sorrow, or death. Such dreams are often negative and highlight some anxiety or fear. If you dream that the wedding goes wrong or ends in disaster, then it suggests that you need to address some negativity immediately.”

 

There is definitely something going on here, and I just need to figure it out.

Something is going on in my head that I am working on, and right now it is just confusing.

Trust me, there is a lot more happening over here than just pygmy goats and laundry.  I just haven’t figured it out, yet.

 

 

This has been a long week.

Homeschooling is hard enough, but homeschooling a child with dyslexia is even harder.

I can teach one of my kids anything on earth, and they are indeed the “sponge” that people talk about.  They learn and do their work, and advance just fine.  No problems.

But dyslexia is like trying to nail a wet sponge to jello.  Some of it will stick.  Most of it will slide off.  You will spend 99% of your time reteaching the same lesson every day, until enough of it sticks so it actually resembles a sponge stuck to jello.  A little bit.  Enough of it.

It becomes the weeks of years.

Every day you try to teach them their lessons.  But the day just never ends, and at the end of it you have made no progress.  So you try again tomorrow.  And the next day.  And the week is over, and you think…with as much optimism as you can muster…that maybe, hopefully, some of the sponge has stuck to the jello.

But another week goes by, and you wonder how this is ever going to work.  You have tried countless curriculums, schedules, methods…but the truth of the matter is, your kid just has to do the work.  And some days, that is agonizing.

You read “success stories” about Ansel Adams, who was thrown out of countless private schools and finally homeschooled by his exasperated parents, who just wanted him to learn something.  Anything.  And finally, he found the passion of photography and music and self-propelled himself into a career.

“When words become unclear, I shall turn to photographs,” Adams said.

 

What are you going to do.

 

Homeschooling websites aren’t entirely helpful.

“Time to get the wiggles out! Dance party, outside time etc.” ~Maggie

“Take a break from “school”. Learning happens in many ways and it doesn’t have to look like “school”. Find what their interests are and pursue that.” ~ Ginny

 

Honestly, how are these answers?  If they don’t do their work, have a dance party?

Are you serious?

“Find what their interests are and pursue that…”  This is just the dumbest response.  I need my kids to learn math.  Not get a degree in Nintendo.  Honestly..

 

Anyway, the week is almost over and I am hoping we can finish something that resembles progress.

 

Maybe then I will stop having weird, prophetic dreams.

And I will raise my children to be smart, successful, productive members of society who go to college and have families of their own and live happy lives.

BUT RIGHT NOW LETS JUST FOCUS ON OUR MATH, SHALL WE.

 

 

Honestly, how did I not know about this??

I love my fountain pens to great depths.  And not for anorak purposes, or hipster reasons…there are a number of reasons why I will always have one on hand.  They are easier to write with, as opposed to Bic pens that have gummy ink.  The ink flows out of the nib easily, and it makes the function of writing so much more fluid.  I certainly have never lost one of the fountain pens, since they are more valuable to me.

And, to be frank, they are so much more fun to write with.

However, I have never heard of glass nibs.

And I am hooked.

Look at this!!  That is a beautifully crafted pen, out of glass!!!  Can you imagine how smooth this pen writes?

There are so many beautiful pens.  I am just speechless.

 

 

Fountain Pen Network

And, if you really wanted to amp up this craziness: scented ink.

J.Herbin Scented Inks

I’m thinking I have a new hobby.