I was inspired recently to write about a moment that I had while babysitting the summer of my freshman year. Part of why I love spending time with children is that it gives me the opportunity to see the world from a different perspective, and this is one of favorite babysitting memories for that reason.
Cody kneels down in the backyard where the sun is setting, and he shows me where an anthill is peeking out from between clay slabs. I rest on my knees. I watch the way that the little legs wobble, search for the things that they are carrying back home, wonder about the way that they gather into formation, wonder about the stragglers who come from different directions. Madilyn wanders over to see what we are watching. We all stare. I say something that I really mean, words that are a product of being mesmerized by the same thing that they are mesmerized by. In my memory, it seems that maybe I found the right words, but who knows if I did? We watch together.
As a babysitter, it is often disheartening to realize that I am playing games with the kids not out of the same enjoyment that they feel, but out of a desire to make them happy. I remember what it was like to be a child and to never tire of playing pirates, and sometimes I catch a glimpse of that feeling when I introduce a new game to Cody and Madilyn—like “Toasty World” or building our own Great Wall of China—but I always grow tired long before their yelps of laughter and fake seizures and calls for me to chase after them wear out.
I didn’t feel that way watching the ants. It may sound silly and it may sound cliché. I realized that even as I was experiencing it. But I still cared about the ants. I still wanted to be able to watch them. The sky was turning purple, and I was kneeling outside feeling the same way that a child does at the end of the day, and I wanted to tell Cody and Madilyn that I understood, that it never has to end, that I loved the way that they saw these things and I was so grateful that they had showed me, too. We went inside. The ants made their way to the mound, where I used to imagine that all of the ants had separate rooms where some of the wives were having babies, and that the Queen had the largest room of all, and the journeying ants were always relieved to finally reach her.
I was also homeschooled. My mother ejected me from Public school when I was in second grade. It can be, correction, it is very difficult to have the discipline needed to accomplish what is needed. I found what helped me, is to set a specific time for yourself everyday that you require yourself to start your studies. A strict schedule is needed. It also helps to have a specific place that you have dedicated to accompishing your studies. Mastering self-disipline can only make you stronger!
ReplyDeleteThank you for the tips, Catherine! I am working toward a strict schedule. But, having had a strict schedule for years, and having forced myself to complete my studies for what I think are the wrong reasons, I am also trying to rediscover what it means to do things for the right reasons--to learn out of love instead of wanting to maintain straight A's. Which can be even harder than self-discipline, I am finding! It is such an uncomfortable feeling. Thank you so much for your comment. :)
ReplyDeleteI was not homeschooled, but I think what you did was very brave and exciting. It sounds like you are on the right path... and sometimes "uncomfortable" is the very thing we need to make a change! Good luck!
ReplyDeleteThank you so, so much, Lauren! This means a lot. I feel the same way about "uncomfortable"--I think that it can be a really exciting feeling, if we allow it to. Something new is always being created.
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