The days are short,
Laundry piles rise and crest and fall,
but just like the tide,
The baby poops.
The floors are dusty.
We read and paint. We experiment.
I find myself driving a lot these days.
To electronics class.
To Medieval History class.
To Ancient Times class.
To Lego Engineering class.
To Fairytale class.
To piano lessons.
I guess we really car school.
Sometimes we sit and wait.
I read to Tessa if she is not in class, while Jonah naps.
It is not quite what I had expected it to be.
My life is set by a different kind of clock.
One that runs on stories that lead to more stories,
and on questions that lead to more questions, then still more.
A clock that stops suddenly when cooking becomes science
and science becomes art
and art becomes history
which, of course, is story time,
And, in case you are still wondering,
No. I am not worried about their socialization.
They are doing just fine.