It was the best first day, it was the worst first day. 

I knew deep down, it was the wrong day to start school. A few weeks ago, I had declared, “Tuesday! We’re starting Tuesday after we get back from vacation!”

We were generally ready for school in the sense that the kids were excited for a new school year, and ready for a little more structure and hard work. But, I had this sense that we should push our start back to later in the week. 

Every previous school year, we’ve started on a Thursday, completed 2 shortened days of school and celebrated that Friday night! A “slow start,” homeschool moms sometimes call it. 

But this year, we were coming back from vacation right before Labor Day. I felt a weird peer pressure to just hurry up and start because our local schools started so early this year. (Does it get earlier every year or is it just me?) 

That critical voice in the back of my head was louder than ever: You really need to get your act together and get them going. Just suck it up. Don’t push back the date. That’s just like you to not follow through on what you said. 

(Oh the lies we believe sometimes…)

But I knew we shouldn’t have started. We needed a couple more days. I didn’t have materials prepared the way I like. I didn’t have our traditional first day of school gifts set up. We impromptu decided to stay out late Monday night with friends. Ben was going to try being out of the house at a newly rented office space all day. (For the first time, after working from home for the past 4 years.)

We needed more preparation time. The start of the school year is like painting a room – a LOT of time needs to be given to the prep work. 

And I hadn’t had the time or mental energy, what with the surprise adoption and all. 

(By the way, this is why you haven’t heard from me much. At the end of May, we found out we were adopting a little guy we’ve cared for intermittently the past 18 months. We received a call on a Monday. He was dropped off the next day, and has been with us full time ever since.) 

All in all, I just sensed that Tuesday wasn’t the right day to start. 

But I started anyway. I went in with a, “We can do hard things” mentality justifying the decision. 

Kids trickled out of bed with sleepy eyes from having stayed up late. I didn’t have the table ready. The independent checklists had errors. Our 10 year old woke up sick, coughing at 9:45 am. Ben suddenly texted he was coming home to get something and we could, after all, take our first day of school picture together in the morning like we’d always done. But of course, no one was ready.

Hurry everyone! Take a nice picture! Just smile for the camera, would you!?

The 2 year old didn’t know WHAT was going on. Even though we were all home together all summer, it was like he sensed everyone was doing something different and he didn’t know what to do. He sat next to me during read aloud time, with his own book in hand. Fake babbling/ shouting over my voice. He kept looking at me curiously, as if to say, “Is this what we’re doing? We’re reading? ME TOO! I CAN READ TOO!” 

So many little things went wrong, but it all added up to a circus of a morning to say the least. 

The worst first day of a homeschool year we’d ever had, by far.  

Then, at 11:00 am, I checked my email. “She relinquished her rights. It’s done.” 

You see, we’d been waiting since the Friday prior for the biological mother of the 2 year old we’re adopting had relinquished her rights. 

I need to back up. The Friday before Labor Day, we were driving home from the mountains. We got an early start because we knew it would take all day. I checked my email as soon as we got on the road, because we expected to hear of the relinquishment that day. 

Instead, I had an email saying we needed to redo some of the paperwork, mainly for one lawyer’s convenience. Nothing was wrong with the paperwork we’d already gone to great lengths to submit promptly. She just wanted it in a different format. We pulled over in a small mountain town, hopped on the coffee shop wifi, and redid the paperwork. 

A couple hours later, we received a response that we needed to re-notarize it. So we pulled over in another small town, went to their county clerk’s office to meet with a notary. They kindly printed and notarized everything. We recompiled all the paperwork (for a 3rd time) and sent it off in an email. 

Then, we never heard back. By then, it was Friday afternoon before a long holiday weekend, so we didn’t hear anything else. I wasn’t worried, just annoyed. I knew deep down that this was not going to change anything. But the delay was frustrating.

I heard God say, “It’s finished.” 

I agreed inside… Yes, I know God. It’s as good as done. Don’t fear. Don’t give into worry. Here are my requests, my anxieties. I receive your unshakeable peace that surpasses all understanding. (Phil 4:6-7) 

Back to 11:00 am on our first day of school. I see the email: “She relinquished. It’s done. All the paperwork is attached.”

I call Ben. He comes BACK home again to drink sparkling grape juice with the kids and me. (Good thing that new office is close to home – LOL) 

The best news we’d received in a long time. This can’t change. He is in our family forever now. We have 5 kids! 

The rest of the school day spirals downward, the feeling of failure rising high. 

I really shouldn’t have started today. In hindsight, I’m realizing that the “don’t start on Tuesday” notion was the Lord quietly prompting me to push back our start date. I couldn’t hear him over all of my self-condemnation. 

By the mid afternoon, there are piles of disorganized papers on every surface, toddler messes abound. All of my previously smooth systems uprooted. 

I’m exhausted, and I wonder…

How are we going to make it this year? 

How is anyone going to learn anything or have any of their needs met? 

There’s not enough of me to go around. 

Why in the world did I think I should make dinner tonight? I should have planned for take-out.

I should have been more prepared. 

I should have been more patient. 

Maybe we should just give up and send them all to school. At least, then, it’d be relatively quiet all day and I could be a nice mom from like 4:00- bedtime.  

I collapse onto the couch at 8:00 pm and feel like crying. This is NOT how I wanted the first day to feel. I want to enjoy homeschooling. I do enjoy homeschooling. I want my kids to know I like being with them. 

My even-keeled husband speaks truth into the situation: “That’s all condemnation and fear. That’s not from Jesus. Give it some time and cut yourself some slack. There’s grace for all of it. The kids are thriving. You’ll all find your groove. It was just one day and hey, there was a lot going on.”

Before going to bed, I open the attached documents on that finalizing email and read them carefully. The relinquishment is dated 8/29/24. 

Wait a minute? The 29th? I think. That’s not possible… Which day was that? 

I check my calendar. Thursday. 

Last Thursday. 5 days ago. 

The day before we were driving home, redoing paperwork, annoyed, frustrated. 

The day before the Lord told me – It’s finished.

It thought He meant not to worry because He was working on it. 

He literally meant – it’s already done. 

We’d been his legal parents for 5 days and we hadn’t even known.

As I fall asleep, Lamentations 3 comes to mind: 

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his mercies never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”

I’d memorized it years ago, and the Holy Spirit often brings it to mind at the end of a hard day. 

New mercies for tomorrow morning. 

And for tonight, he gives this exhausted, but beloved homeschool mom sleep. (Psalm 127:2)