It has been a while since I lasted posted. I started this blog during a six month hiatus from my life, commonly referred to as bed rest. As I lay there during that time, I started contemplating what life after the arrival of the third Wicks man cub would be like. As I have predicted, it's been hectic, but also one great ride!
Now that I am beginning to get a handle on my schedule and new routine as the mother of three (count them...3!) wild boys, I believe (cross your fingers) that I am ready to return to this blogging thing. Stick around. There's more to come.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
This is My Job
I wasn't raised to live this way. I wasn't raised to make the life decisions that led me to the space and the place in which I now reside. I was not raised to be a stay-at-home mom. I most definitely was not raised to be a (dare I say it?) homeschooling mom.
And yet I am. Much to the chagrin of loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers, and even myself at times, I...am...a...homeschooling mom. This has not been easy for me. It is true that I was raised to believe that I could conquer the world. I was raised to believe that I could be anything I wanted to be. However, this did not include staying home and raising "some man's babies."
This has not been an easy decision. I know the broad shoulders on which I stand. I know what my family members, my people, and my gender have endured, and what glass ceilings had to be smashed so that I could enjoy all of these freedoms. I know, because of these struggles, what is owed for these freedoms. I am expected to repay through work as a lawyer, a doctor, a banker, or something else "very important." Let's be real: anything except staying home and teaching my children.
This is my job. There! I said it. I have done it all: stay-at-home mom, work-at-home mom, working mom, and now homeschooling mom. The only mom I have not been is a single mom! Yet, nothing feels more right for me and my family than what I am doing now.
And the pay is outstanding! It may not reap much monetarily, but I can't beat the benefits. First, there are the little boy giggles as they repeatedly try to sneak into my room to tell me good morning. It's seeing all of the firsts for myself. It's the hugs, kisses, and looks of wonder when they learn something new. Most satisfying is being able to help them bring every situation and lesson learned back to God and see how His story is our story every day of our lives. No one could ever pay me enough for this.
So, there....I said it. I am a home school mom...and I am learning to love it.
And yet I am. Much to the chagrin of loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers, and even myself at times, I...am...a...homeschooling mom. This has not been easy for me. It is true that I was raised to believe that I could conquer the world. I was raised to believe that I could be anything I wanted to be. However, this did not include staying home and raising "some man's babies."
This has not been an easy decision. I know the broad shoulders on which I stand. I know what my family members, my people, and my gender have endured, and what glass ceilings had to be smashed so that I could enjoy all of these freedoms. I know, because of these struggles, what is owed for these freedoms. I am expected to repay through work as a lawyer, a doctor, a banker, or something else "very important." Let's be real: anything except staying home and teaching my children.
This is my job. There! I said it. I have done it all: stay-at-home mom, work-at-home mom, working mom, and now homeschooling mom. The only mom I have not been is a single mom! Yet, nothing feels more right for me and my family than what I am doing now.
And the pay is outstanding! It may not reap much monetarily, but I can't beat the benefits. First, there are the little boy giggles as they repeatedly try to sneak into my room to tell me good morning. It's seeing all of the firsts for myself. It's the hugs, kisses, and looks of wonder when they learn something new. Most satisfying is being able to help them bring every situation and lesson learned back to God and see how His story is our story every day of our lives. No one could ever pay me enough for this.
So, there....I said it. I am a home school mom...and I am learning to love it.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Baton Passing
When I was growing up, I used to love to sit and listen to the family stories. Sometimes, it was Daddy sharing stories to eat up the miles as we headed home to New Orleans from Mobile. On other occasions, it was Mama, weaving tales of ten children and a small house in rural Louisiana. Stories of family pride, triumph, and hardship were passed down from Grandpa Leo and Grandma Pearl in their kitchen in Mobile.
I was blessed to know nine of my biological grandparents and great-grandparents. As a little girl, I was always aware of the broad shoulders on which I stood. As the child of parents who grew up on the tail end of the Civil Rights Movement, I became aware of my place in this world as a little African American girl growing up in the south. Because our family stories were told without malice, I learned how to love my fellow man while still being proud of my heritage.
I was fortunate to share some of that history with my Andrew (6) tonight after dinner. I don't know how it started, but I told him about the nine grands. Then, I pulled out the family album from the last reunion and we went over the pictures. We looked at Papa Jonah, who took care of his Native American mother deep in the swamps until her death. When he left those swamps, he married my Mama Sweetie (Annie Bell) and they raised their children on a farm. Mama Sweetie lost her eye at the age of nine, picking cotton in the cotton fields. There were other stories of courage and heroism. I saw the light of family pride flare up in my oldest child's eyes as he too became aware of the shoulders on which he stands. There are more stories and I can't wait to continue to pass on the rich oral traditions of my family.
I was blessed to know nine of my biological grandparents and great-grandparents. As a little girl, I was always aware of the broad shoulders on which I stood. As the child of parents who grew up on the tail end of the Civil Rights Movement, I became aware of my place in this world as a little African American girl growing up in the south. Because our family stories were told without malice, I learned how to love my fellow man while still being proud of my heritage.
I was fortunate to share some of that history with my Andrew (6) tonight after dinner. I don't know how it started, but I told him about the nine grands. Then, I pulled out the family album from the last reunion and we went over the pictures. We looked at Papa Jonah, who took care of his Native American mother deep in the swamps until her death. When he left those swamps, he married my Mama Sweetie (Annie Bell) and they raised their children on a farm. Mama Sweetie lost her eye at the age of nine, picking cotton in the cotton fields. There were other stories of courage and heroism. I saw the light of family pride flare up in my oldest child's eyes as he too became aware of the shoulders on which he stands. There are more stories and I can't wait to continue to pass on the rich oral traditions of my family.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Introducing......
The Wicks family! I'm Trina, proud homeschooling mom and wife. I am married to Andrew, a wonderful man of God, and we are raising two little man cubs, Andrew (6) and Stephen (18 mos). We are happy to be homeschoolers. With this blog, I hope to write about the joys and trials of raising, loving, and teaching around all of this testosterone!
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