Mommy and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Homeschool Day

I was introduced to the book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, written by Judith Viorst, and I thought to myself, “Some days really do feel that way.” Then another mom suggested a similar narrative from the perspective of a homeschooling mom because not every day is picture perfect. However, with a little perspective, we can quickly discover that every day truly is a beautiful gift from our Savior. Here is my story.

I fell asleep sitting up on the sofa last night, because my toddler wouldn’t stay asleep without me, so I woke up with a headache and swollen ankles. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad homeschool day.

At breakfast, three different children talked and yelled over top of one another to tell me what kind of cereal they wanted. Then my six-year-old accidentally knocked his brother’s bowl onto the floor, causing that brother to wail like a banshee as he mourned the loss of his feast, since it was indeed the last bit of that particular cereal available in our house. Meanwhile, I had to settle the squabble, clean up the mess, convince the mourner to at least try another cereal, and still attempt to get everyone dressed and out of the door to make it to the co-op on time. This is going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad homeschool day. I think I need a vacation in Australia.

At co-op, we were seven minutes late, so everyone noticed that we were tardy, and I felt all the shame of my tardiness. I know everyone smiled and greeted us warmly, but that didn’t make me feel any better. I vowed to myself that we WILL be on time next week. During the science experiment, my five-year-old kept interrupting, and I had to have a talk with him for hogging the magnifying glass. He threw a tantrum, and I missed the rest of the demonstration. How am I supposed to duplicate it now? This is turning out to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad homeschool day.

During lunch, my best mommy friend was having a conversation with another mom instead of me, and I couldn’t participate in the conversation because I had to keep taking my toddler to the potty since she had only recently stopped wearing diapers. Even with all the back and forth to the restroom, she still had an accident and I spent 20 more minutes changing and rinsing her clothes. When I was finally done, many families were headed home, and my children were begging me for snacks and water. Also, I was horrified to notice that my youngest had found a thumbtack on the ground beside the picnic table. Thank God he didn’t try to taste it. I bet they don’t just leave thumbtacks lying around in Australia.

On the way home, we had to stop by the doctor’s office for my one-year-old’s well visit, and the nurse practitioner lectured me for 20 minutes about “the necessity of vaccinations.” I’ve already had this conversation with two other doctors, and I just wanted to get going because the other children are still hungry and getting restless. Finally, nine minutes into my toddler’s nap-time-deprivation-melt-down, we leave the office and walk to the car where my five-year-old decides to jump with both feet into a puddle, which splashes us all with dirty water. I instantly have a traumatic flash forward of all the laundry I’ll have to do, and demand that they all get into the car.

As my grouchy children bicker and buckle in, I turn to them and say, “I’m having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad homeschool day!” But no one acknowledges what I said. Instead, they all just proceed to ask me if we could have Chick-fil-A for dinner “with the cookies too!” O brother.

As I drive, my husband calls and asks what’s for dinner, and I catch myself before throwing my phone out of the window. “I haven’t decided yet, dear,” I reply sweetly.

During dinner, I remind my ten-year-old that she still has to finish the report on Australia that she didn’t complete yesterday since she procrastinated too long. She moans, and in rebellion proceeds to take one hour and twenty-three minutes to write four sentences. I glance at the clock. Two hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty-eight seconds until bedtime. Sigh, I can do this.

I read aloud from a history book, stopping every other sentence to squawk at the kids to “Stop poking each other,” and “If you just stop talking the argument will be over!”

Just before bedtime, as I was scrolling through my phone for vacation destinations in Australia, my seven-year-old presented a picture that she had drawn for daddy and not me. That wasn’t actually so bad, but as we were admiring her masterpiece, we heard a voice yell from upstairs, “Maddie’s in the toilet again.” “Nooooo!” I yell as I drop everything and sprint up the stairs thinking in horror of every possible disease my toddler could suffer from as a result of her obsession with the toilet. I shudder as I strip her down for a bath. This really is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad homeschool day.

At bedtime, I read a Bible verse, and the kids argued over who gets to pray. I suggested they all take turns, and then they fussed about who gets to pray first. “Hmmm, I’m not so sure that Jesus would approve of you all not putting others first,” I noted, but we worked it out and got to praying!

“Dear God, thank you for letting us have delicious food today, like cereal and peanut butter and jelly. Oh, and breastmilk for Baby JoJo.”

“Dear Jesus, thank you that we can go to co-op and play with our friends.”

“Dear Lord, thank you that the baby didn’t have anything wrong with her at the doctor’s and please let Mommy take us to get Chick-fil-A next time, because it’s so good.”

“Dear God, thank you that we are all healthy and please help Mrs. Scott’s husband find a new job, so they can get what they need.”

“Heavenly Father, thank you that Daddy came home safe, and that we didn’t crash when we were driving today.”

“Dear God, thank you for our family. Amen”

I reflect on tonight’s verse, “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him” (Colossians 3:17).

Amen. I guess it wasn’t such a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad homeschool day after all. Some days are just difficult, but I’d still like that vacation . . . in Australia.