All Kinds of Spring

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It’s spring! We’ve been doing all sorts of springy things.

Like planting herbs and flowers,

(The petunias lasted a week before being eaten entirely, presumably by rabbits.)

Celebrating spring birthdays,

(Why, yes, my cake decorating skillz *are* unrivaled.)

And having a May crowning using a kit from a Catholic All Year liturgical living box.

(This was the best picture I got. Mary is hiding back there. One minute before this picture was taken, we were singing “Immaculate Mary” and our procession around the house was getting out of control in speed and silliness.)

In other news, Moe received his First Holy Communion.

It was great! And we hosted an actual party with actual people.

As things slowly start opening up again, it feels like spring in more ways than just sprouts and eggs, though.

Almost a year ago we sold our house without any specific knowledge of where we would end up. It’s almost like the last year has been an emotional winter, coming to terms with all the changes. Becoming a stranger in a strange place. But it finally feels like maybe that’s okay.

Moving to a new place, I’m keenly aware of just how weird we are as a family. We homeschool. We have six kids. We don’t wear brand name clothes in tasteful, muted colors. We don’t have Netflix. And it feels like we are the only such species in our new place.

I was listening to the latest Jennifer Fulwiler podcast, and she made a comment about embracing quirkiness versus trying to fit in. She mentioned the confidence of owning who you are, and how that almost makes a person cool. While I don’t ever think “cool” and “Alicia” will ever be said together in the same sentence, (unless it’s like “Break out the hose, we need to cool Alicia down!”) there’s something to be said for the appeal of someone comfortable in their skin.

As an introvert, it’s been hard that no one here knows my backstory. It stresses me out that people would see my outsides and make conclusions about who I am. Uneducated. Lazy. Irresponsible. They don’t know how hard things have been. They don’t know how much has gone into all our choices.

But to a certain extent how we present is like a gate that only lets in people who are okay with us. Whether it’s neighbors or people at church, it’s okay that some people don’t make eye contact or want to chat. We can wear our flag of weirdness and know that anyone we *do* interact with isn’t expecting us to know anything about pop culture or professional sports. They expect us to be loud and tell Dad jokes. (We had an interesting family conversation the other day about what other sounds flatulence could be (doorbell? explosion? car horn?) and if that would be better or worse than reality.)

When our neighbor brought over some surplus fruit to share and showed the kids a nest of naked baby mice she found in her shed, it felt like we might fit in here after all, even if we are very very different.

We are who we are. We can’t possibly convince anyone we’re normal. It’s going to continue to be a struggle for me not to apologize for our weirdness, but this shift in perspective feels like spring for sure.

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I’m itching to post about our homeschool favorites of the year, how we’ve incorporated morning basket time, and what we’re doing next year. But with two boys under three..there’s only a slim chance of that. Maybe someday!

Also, thanks for using our Amazon links. If you check out this parenting book I found useful and then buy what you needed anyway, we get a few cents closer to a new microscope!