In Which Ami Almost Sets the Kitchen on Fire

Every once in awhile I receive a comment or email that reads something like this, "Great blog. I should be doing more with my kids. How do you do it all?"

I smile at the compliment before screwing up my forehead at the rest. I'm not doing it all.

This morning I asked God to give me some kind of something . . . a moment . . . to allow others to see behind my mask. And then today ended up being a slim school day, so I decided to report that to my readers.

We aren't always hopping off on frog-observation outings or crafting our way through Mexico. Today was no lapbooks. No notebooks. No printables. No hands-on history. No science experiments. Not even a field trip. Just math, reading, Bible memory, copywork, and listening to an audio book. Fancy.

I started this blog post in my head while working on a meal for a friend. I knew you'd understand that I wasn't the Queen of homeschooling when you saw today's list, but then, as I 360-ed my kitchen, I noted a deposit of dirty dishes . . . on the floor. Which would be my overflow area. Counter full (check), stacks of dishes on the floor (check-check). 

I accomplished the dishes, popped some blueberry boy bait into the oven, and started melting some butter on the stove top. The bait was in one of those new disposable paper pans. I was hoping it wouldn't catch fire. Paper + the oven + my ADD = disaster. At the same time I put the butter on low (I know I did), and ran upstairs to start this blog post.

I never started the post; I was distracted by Pinterest via Facebook, and I was looking at a few new recipes. While I was eyeing a savory crockpot concoction, I smelled my fire-fear. I sailed down the stairs and swam through two clouded rooms. So much for not letting my kids breathe second-hand smoke. (When was National Fire Prevention Week, again?)

This, my friends, was butter. Two sticks of butter.

I skip school.
I do slim school.
I climb laundry mountain.
I forget to bring things to co-op.
I stack dishes on the kitchen floor.
And today . . . I {almost} set my kitchen on fire.

I do good things with my kids as much as I can, but I don't have a red cape. No superpowers here.

Please come to this blog and be encouraged knowing that I don't do it all.