You can't be happy all the time.

It's Friday and I feel it in my bones. The day began with baby crying and is ending with me thinking about it. There are many things that could be said about me, but the one I know is true is that I give being a mother 100 percent. The discouraging thing is that sometimes it's really hard to see that it has accomplished very much.
Overall it was a good day. Co-op is so much fun. The kids get a chance to bond and stretch and use the things we're learning at home in new ways. Kurt came along, and neither of us could resist hunting up the kids and peeking in on their classes. I don't know why, but somehow by the end of classes a creeping ennui had me saying yes to a chocolate shake. I associate milkshakes with being sad. We went to the shoe store for the usual chaos of fitting everyone out in new sneakers. We did get them buy one get one half off, which for us is a great savings.
Tomorrow we'll be visiting with family from the east coast, so I won't be able to write. Once we'd unloaded the van, I took off to get my haircut. I made more of a production of it than usual adding the special tea treatment and getting it styled. I don't know why, but sometimes I just hate having all that hair. It's pretty short. After the haircut I went to Barnes and Noble with two goals--one, use up a gift card and two, write something. I failed at both objectives.
I edited the most recent bit I took to group. I counted the almost tens bits of manuscripts that need to typed. I despaired of getting the timeline for the New York trip in order. Then I faced the real issue. I don't think I've done enough to get my kids ready for the world. My childhood there was that heavy axe we all had to grind and as soon as you were old enough you picked it up and off you went. I'm not so clear as to what I want to give my kids. I want them to know God, but I'm not dogmatic about how. I want them to have some knowledge of the many ideas that are the basis of human culture, but it's hard for me to be sure which ones to include and which to ignore. I had hoped to ignite in them a passion for the treasures of literature that have enlivened generations of human beings. At this moment my only victory is an enjoyment of Chaucer.
The problem is probably more about the general weariness than it is about any actual failure, but I'm at the point of being fairly certain I'll send the kids to the local highschool when the time comes. They could use the opportunity to practice making friends and to learn how to navigate the culture that is so very different from our quiet life at home before they are thrown in the deep end in college. I hate the idea even though it's probably the best one. Highschool is when everything gets interesting. I guess I've just flunked myself as their teacher.