Kirsten McTernan has written a must read book for anyone out there even the list bit curious about homeschooling their children. As a second generation homeschooler and someone very familiar with that education culture from a student perspective I was impressed out how Kirsten tackled so many of the “obstacles” that many people feel is hovering over them when they think about homeschooling. Her practical solutions peel back the mystery and confront the fear and excuses that even I struggle with at times as I begin to experience the flip side of now being a teacher for my own kids.
“They are calling in an ambulance to take you and your son to the main hospital in Oslo.”
The sentence crashed in around my weary, beleaguered postpartum brain as I clutched my husband’s hand. I sat blinking in shock at the young tall pediatric doctor dressed in blue who had just spoken. Twelve hours ago I had delivered what we thought was a perfectly healthy 9 lb. baby boy.
Something I find so much more meaningful to write instead of blogs about a current life experiences, is to instead take those experiences and rewrite them as a creative short stories. I am saying this because I’ve decided to make this blog primarily about short stories now. I know many of you have sent me messages or left comments in the past asking me to write more of this type of writing. So I am starting a new chapter to do just that.
I spent two, maybe three hours, last week writing on a blog. It just didn’t turn out, which is why nothing was posted last week. So this is attempt number #2 and its Monday. I am not sure where the time goes. Its already September and I am 24 weeks into this pregnancy. Over half way there. Its basically still summer here in Norway, but the days are getting colder and rainier. No frost yet, so the flowers are still blooming and there is still a few apples on the trees and berries on the bushes. The kids boots are crusted with mud each day after school and dripping rain suits hang in our entry hall. We still sleep with our windows open at night, but all snuggled under our down Norwegian duvet comforters.
I realized I needed space. I needed to be more than just a mother. I need identity outside of that. I need to admit that motherhood was not the totality and fulfillment of who I was. This was so hard to realize and even declare over myself. I had made motherhood an idol and it it failed me because it wasn’t suppose to be that.