The Bliss of Spring Break

As a person who has been involved in worship production/leading in one form or another for the last XX years, it was incredibly refreshing to realize that I would have NO major church responsibilities this year and I could…

TAKE

A

BREAK!

Wait, what??!?

Yes, it is true. I shelled out a bazillion dollars and tucked my two sweeties away in Spring Break Day Camp at the local YMCA and I:

  • Slept
  • Watched 17 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy (I’m still digging through Season 9 – NO spoilers, please)
  • Slept
  • Watched a few movies
  • Slept
  • Unpacked and/or threw away about 6 boxes from storage
  • Slept
  • Read
  • Slept

I know that this seems like a strange post for a homeschooling blog, but there is something really important that I learned this week.

I need more breaks.

I don’t mean to say I didn’t know this before, but now I KNOW it. I realize that the lack of breaks worked into my schedule is what has driven this bus straight to Burnoutville, Population 2 (I’m counting Butterfly in there, too).

So there you go. Lesson learned.

Now I need to make it count for the rest of the school year.

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Homeschooling PE. What could possibly go wrong?

I enrolled Butterfly in the local “Homeschooling P.E.” class at our YMCA. It is two days a week for an hour and it is $0. That’s right! Our membership covers the cost!

Now, an important part of this plan is the idea that this mommy/teacher/principal/housemaid would get a chance to actually work out. Like on machines. With headphones. And no little people whining, “Mooooooooom! Stop! You are running too fast!” So I packed my bag of workout gear and got ready to sweat.

Butterfly was not nearly as excited as me, sadly. Partly because she was the only African-American in the room. I didn’t realize that was going to affect her as much as it did, but it turns out that it bothered her a lot. She mentioned it a few times on the way home and once to Dad and Sister on the way home from After-school that day, so I knew it was a biggie.

That being said, I DID get to sweat for 30 minutes, and I made an appointment with a trainer for the next session to set me up on the machines (Seriously, if you have a good YMCA near you, this is kind of one of those things that it completely worth the bucks, IMHO).

So after a sorta-successful first session, I got really “ahead of myself” and decided that I would try to get to an exercise class 45 min before Butterfly’s class while she hung out in the child area. I checked her in, she started to color, I high-tailed it upstairs to the class, walked in, and…quietly backed out as I realized it was an Active Seniors Stretch class. God bless each one of them, they were stretching while seated in a folding chair. Not my vibe.

Sooooooo, plan B.

I grabbed Butterfly and we went to the “Teen Room”¬†and we started working out on the circuit machines. They have a great system, kind of like a Curves, where a horn sound blows every 90 seconds and you move to the next machine (sorry, Curves. I just blew your secret to the dudes. Not that there are many dudes reading these posts, I think). I don’t know what kind of “Teens” are going to this room, but lemme tell ya something, those are no sissy machines. I am one strong gal (just ask my husband who helps him move the heavy stuff), and these machines were giving me a bit of a run for my money. But then, to my delight, at the end of the circuit were CARDIO machines. That’s right, I was going to get to sweat after all!!!

So Little Miss Butterfly and I floated over to the Elliptical Machines and started doing our thing. I told Miss B that we would do it for 15 minutes and then I would take her down to the Homeschooling P.E. class. We were good for about 4 minutes until I look over and my darling daughter is gasping and claiming that I am killing her. Which is clearly not true, because I was more than 3 feet away from her and we all know that it is impossible to give someone a good death stare to the side when you are bopping up and down on an elliptical. It’s fact, people.

And then we came upon a perfect example of why I am truly not a “good” teacher. I told her that it wasn’t killing her, but that she had to stay on it. She cried. I denied. For 11 minutes, tears streamed down her face and I insisted that she stay on the machine.

Folks. I am a coach.

Not that coaches don’t teach, but I realized that the same “you can do this, stop your negative self-talk and let me hear you say that you can do this” speech I was giving her was what I was repeating at least 5 days/week during this year at the table as we worked through the lessons.

So, I’m going to stop beating myself over the head about not being a good teacher and accept that I teach in a different way.