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Tag: Homeschool

Homeschool

Last Day of School

This year at home with mom might be a little blip on the timelines of my kids’ lives, but the bonus time with them has been an unexpected blessing (and challenging time of refinement) for me. Continue reading Last Day of School

Melissa KutscheJune 28, 2021June 27, 2021Leave a comment
Homeschool, Kids, Motherhood

the stories that keep us together

Week 2 of Homeschool: My daughter cries nearly every day. Sometimes the tears come when I ask her to read to me or to try something new, but most often the tears come when I fail to do things the “right” way (i.e., how things were done at her school last year). This last offense is by far the worst, as it reminds her of … Continue reading the stories that keep us together

Melissa KutscheOctober 23, 2020April 25, 20217 Comments

I’m Melissa–writer, mama, bookworm, and spontaneous dancer. I share words about motherhood, books, life as a military spouse, and other sacred/ordinary things.

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Sunshine breaches the clouds; we scoop up mitts, a ball, a bat and get in ​​​​​​​​
By late March, the buds start to open, revealing delicate pink and white petals. We hop in the van and drive toward Showa Kinen Park, stopping on the way to pick up a conbini lunch of fried chicken, onigiri, and egg salad sandwiches. We walk familiar paths to a grassy field surrounded by trees heavy with blossoms—an ideal spot for hanami.
Since becoming a mom almost nine years ago, I've struggled to bite my tongue (and not roll my eyes) when a well-intentioned mom says something like, "Oh, you'll miss it someday!" or "Those were the best days of my life!" Even if these sentiments hold truth, they can feel a bit forced--like can you please take off your rose-colored-lenses and quit gaslighting me already?!⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Now, If you have an award here for someone who can carry a trunkful of grocery bags into the house without breaking a single egg, I’m your girl. A prize for knowing how many bowel movements each child has had on a given day and what their current favorite toothpaste flavor is? Bam. Award for forgetting to brush a child’s teeth or going way too long between haircuts and nail trims? Yep. But Mother of the Year? Even the statuette I’m holding looks exhausted and fragile. Wait, is this supposed to look like me? Did you guys model this after the picture of me picking sand out of my eyes at the beach last summer? Is this just another plastic action figure for me to trip on?​​​​​​​​
Catching snowflakes at the bus stop this morning. ❄️❄️❄️ ​​​​​​​​
[The Beauty of] M[otherhood] // Motherhood is messy. It’s mounds of mac ‘n’ cheese and macrame art. Motherhood magnifies mere mortals, makes Marian martyrs out of mall rats. Motherhood is a masquerade, a mission, a mirror. It’s the ministry of missing mittens. It mutates and metabolizes, muddles minds and mesmerizes. It’s the merging of meek and mighty. It’s malodorous and melodious. It’s midwinter mud pies and midweek mayhem. Motherhood is maniacal and methodical, mysterious and mischievous, modern and medieval. Motherhood is morning musings, mid-afternoon make-believe, and midnight melodies. Motherhood is the madrigal and the marching band; it’s major keys and minor chords. It’s minivans and movie marathons, a mash-up of the mercurial and monochrome. Motherhood is moonshine: a mixology of the molecular and metaphysical. It's the murky middle, muscle memory. Motherhood is a marriage of the miraculous and mundane. It’s a metamorphosis, a mosaic of the mystic and material. It is equal measure milk and marrow.​​​​​​​​
Jennette McCurdy's memoir, I'm Glad My Mom Died, is compelling, interesting, and brave. McCurdy lays everything bare with her raw, honest storytelling about the challenges of being a (reluctant) child actor, having an abusive mom, and many other traumatic events and circumstances. As far as content warnings go, this book would need a list a mile long, and I would especially caution anyone who has struggled with an eating disorder that there are sections which might be very triggering. ​​​​​​​​
A Breakfast Conversation ​​​​​​​​
A friend recently posed the question: What’s the most adventurous thing you’ve eaten? I didn’t know how to answer. Pheasant was out of my comfort zone as a kid, but eating takoyaki (minced octopus balls) didn’t seem strange while living in Southeast Asia. Sometimes the adventure was found in the type of thing I was eating, sometimes it was which part of that thing, how it was cooked, or how far up the spiciness scale I was willing to travel. And sometimes it just depended on the season of my life. ​​​​​​​​

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