While I would love to be able to say I am one of those moms who has her days planned out, an organized schedule of events, or at least an agenda, the truth is that our day is often a series of tangents and bunny trails. Not to say we don’t start with a plan.

The idea is this:

Wake up, fill our bellies, make ourselves presentable, do our morning chores.

Get the tough stuff out of the way: math and phonics sheets. Read pleasantly, eat lunch, and read some more. Play nicely.

The reality goes more like this:

I am woken up by the sound of a herd of elephants running the halls at least a good thirty minutes before I am ready. I trudge myself to the bathroom to get ready, very careful not to look at myself in the mirror.

I shout from the bathroom, “Walk in my house, please!” The running slows to a mall-walkers pace for about 3 whole minutes.

I throw my hair in a ponytail, put on my “school uniform” – yoga pants or jeans and a comfy shirt. No denim jumpers for this mom! And then I mall-walk my way to the bright spot in my morning…a Francis! Francis! X5 espresso machine. (Most people credit the success in their homeschools to a book or curriculum, I credit both the success and happiness of our homeschool to the Francis!Francis! X5.)

After a triple shot latte has begun to make me human again, I can finally assemble thoughts. I rush through cleaning the kitchen while the boys eat, and give them some expectations for the day.

“Today, when we’re done filling our bellies, we will do our chores, and get started with school. When your math work and Explode the Code pages are done we will be meeting William Shakespeare and ‘The Globe’…”

“Mom, we know about globes!” interjects my eldest.

“Not globes, Thee Globe… as in a theater. Want to take a guess why it’s called The Globe?”

My youngest, with a mouth full of bagel, shouts, “Be-taws it’s on a globe!”

“You’re getting warm…” I tease, “… better get that work done so we can find out.”

They beg for vitamins, forget to clear their places, unload the dishwasher in tandem, and have to be reminded three times that school starts in 10 minutes… 5 minutes… 2 minutes… before I shout:

“ALL BOYS REPORT TO THE KITCHEN!”

We have a dedicated schoolroom, but it’s been declared to have uncomfortable chairs, so it’s to the couches we go.

My oldest complains for three minutes before I give him the look. My middle son declares everything “too hard” for a good, solid seven minutes, before giving in and completing everything without error in less than 30 minutes. So much for “too hard!”

While they are working, I try not to hover. I take out the garbage, retrieve missing shoes, wipe smudgy 5-year-old cheeks, load the dishwasher and microwave the same cup of coffee four times before finishing it triumphantly.

When math and Explode the Code are out of the way, I pile my youngest on my lap; the other two crowd around and we usually start with history. This year we’re finishing up The Story of the World 2 and partway through This Country of Ours. I read them both each day, keeping both books in the same time period or events in history. We do a chapter or so in each.

We talk about The Globe and Queen Elizabeth and then my oldest reads the corresponding Magic Tree House book to his little brothers. They demand to know why Queen Elizabeth’s teeth are all black. This leads to talk about dental hygiene, loose teeth, The Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus and soon they are shouting which Lego sets they want and all three are talking at once.

I excuse myself to the bathroom and manage to turn a one-minute pit stop into three long, luxurious minutes. Soon the cat is sticking her paws under the door, demanding to be let in because she wants to drink from the sink while I wash my hands. Spoiled kitty won’t drink standing water!

Math, phonics, and history are done and an over an hour and a half of school has already passed. I ask comprehension questions from today’s chapters while I check off what they’ve accomplished on their chore charts, then I grab the lit choice; currently it’s The Railway Children. I brace myself for at least a half-hour of reading, wishing the Railway Children were as exciting as Journey to the Center of the Earth was. After two or three chapters, the boys are “totally starving” and I’m ready for some quiet time.

My oldest two usually fend for themselves for lunch, but my youngest demands frozen waffles. I convince him a grilled cheese would be better and give him “Mickey Mouse cheese” to keep him occupied.

We eat, clean up, and I remind each boy that he can choose either a science or lit free reading choice from his book pile. I pick up a handful of preschool-level books and Trouble and I point out colors, count, try and find letters that match, or sometimes just read before I turn him loose to play. Twice a week we play with the Handwriting with Tears wooden pieces, and do a page or so from his Kumon books. But mostly, preschool is just reading and talking.

The boys read about space, planets or whatever interests them and I am off to check email and try and whittle down my design queue from my small, home business designing blogs (come visit me at www.graphicallydesigning.com). I return emails until the boys announce that they are done reading. I ask them to narrate something about what they just read before they go off to play Legos while I work. It’s never quiet so I can listen to their boybarian noises while Photoshop and I spend the afternoon together.

Today I hear from the boys’ bedroom, “I’m Sir Walter Raleigh…you be Queen Elizabeth!”

“No way! I’m not being her…she has black teeth!”

And I laugh knowing that if they remember nothing else about Queen Elizabeth they’ll at least know why they oughta’ brush their teeth.

Check out my article on page 38 of the new flipbook edition of Heart of the Matter Magazine.

Darcy is the mom to three boys ages 8, 7, and 5 and blogs over at Life with My 3 Boybarians. She is the owner of a blog design business at www.graphicallydesigning.com. She and Handy Man live in Iowa…nowhere near a Starbucks.