Unconventional

Because we homeschool, we decided to go to a homeschool convention this year.  But because we homeschool, "conventional" types of behavior and activities are foreign to us.
We aren't used to going on long car trips.
We aren't used to hotels.
We aren't used to planning meals around restaurants and non-perishable snack foods.
We aren't used to coexisting for several days with lots of other people.
We aren't used to walking rather than running everywhere (around pools, down long quiet hallways, through congested corridors, etc).
We aren't used to mom going off to classes while dad handles the bulk of daily child-raising (I'm not saying he's incapable, don't get me in that kind of marital trouble!  I'm just saying it's a reversal of normalcy around here.)
We aren't used to drinking bottled water all day.
We aren't used to trying to appear "conventional" and normal for extreme periods of time (in this case, a whole weekend.  Bah!)

But because my family is so young, and this is our first time attending a convention, they offered free registration.  The grandparents very graciously offered to pay for the hotel part, so we decided it was a blessing worthy of attempting.

Almost packed.

We packed up until there wasn’t an inch of space left in the van.  Daddy had to drive because there wasn’t any foot room left in the passenger seat.  My legs are much smaller, and fit between laptops and bags of cereal, so I got to ride shotgun.  Off we drove.  It started well.  No one began to ask “Are we there yet?” for a good hour.  Some even napped.  Then one in the backseat began to complain of motion sickness.  They were just starting to get truly antsy as the hotel came into view. 

Daddy took over kid duties and went to check into the hotel as the four boys tumbled out of their car seats and looked for a wall to bounce off.  I checked into the conference registration and hurried off to the first session.   It was called “Time Management for Busy Moms.”  I was late.

It felt truly odd to sit quietly while my own little universe continued to exist somewhere without mom at the center of its orbit.  For a whole hour.  Of course they managed.  Even I survived.

They were busily tearing through bags in search of swim gear when I found the hotel room.  The pool and cable t.v. were the anticipated highlights of this "vacation" for my young brood.  We put the remotes out of reach and proceeded to dress everyone.  It's almost as challenging as bundling everyone up in winter gear.  At least as time consuming.  
We tromped back down the halls that held the conference rooms, mingling in our spandex swim clothes with the most conservatively attired families.  I tried to smile demurely, conscious of our white skin lighting the hallway, aware that Ben's wheelchair would draw even more second glances.  But homeschoolers are nothing if not long-suffering to the "outside" world, and we passed scrutiny without comment.        

The initial pool visit accounted for, we dried off and went out searching for a restaurant.  I was rather looking forward to not doing dishes that night, but we found a frustrating lack of options other than pizza, chinese noodles, and fast food.  It started to snow on our still-damp hair as we piled out into a parking lot.  The boys ate french fries, chicken fingers, and macaroni, and I wished briefly that we were home where vegetables are at least on the menu.  Tomorrow's diapers would be an adventure.  

The hotel accommodations were palatial - for the children.  The four of them shared two queen beds.  After they were all tucked into their luxurious fluffy covers and nestled between voluptuous pillows (to be fair, the two year old ended up in the portable crib), my husband pulled out the sofa bed.  I slept fitfully, waking once to re-tuck a discombobulated preschooler, and again to adjust the covers so both myself and my husband's feet (which stuck out over the bottom edge of the bed) were covered.  

Hotel bedtime story.

The boys found cartoons on early the next morning.  They waved cheerfully from the sofa as I hurried off to another conference session.  Daddy handled the first diapers.  
By afternoon, the introvert in me was exhausted from so much time around people.  When the little ones laid down for nap, I sneaked in to lay on one of their plush beds myself.  I missed a session I'd hoped to attend, but the rare chance to nap was almost worth the hotel time.

In some ways, it was reassuring to hear the local homeschool scoop and realize I wasn't completely inept.  We have a basic schedule, we cover the three R's most days, we take advantage of plenty of "teachable" moments in real life, and they all love books.  A lot of challenges are ahead that I haven't even considered at this early stage, nor do I really want to.  A lot of the ideas I came away with were practical more than "educational".

Make spending time with God alone and as a family a priority.
Never do alone what one of your kids can do himself.  
Schedule, menu plan, list list list - and then be ok with it being broken.  Often.
Spend a few minutes with the toddler/preschooler before starting lessons with the older kids.
These really are the best days of your life.  (So they say; jury's still out on my end...)  
Make time alone together.  Even if you have to get creative.  Sofa dates are still dates.    
Use less detergent.  Use cloth napkins.  Cook up lots of meat at a time and freeze till needed.  
Your home should be clean enough to be healthy and messy enough to be happy - and accept that some days will just look really happy.

We were so glad to be home after all the excitement.  My five year old begged me for broccoli at suppertime.  My three year old dumped out the contents of the toy car box and sighed happily as if he was seeing long lost friends.  They snuggled happily into their humble beds at a decent bedtime.  I did the dishes and didn't grumble about them (much.)  I thought about blogging, but instead, my husband ordered room service.  So I dished up a nice bowl of ice cream for each of us, and snuggled next to him against the sagging sofa cushions.  We talked politics and what kind of meat I should buy for the week ahead.  Then we climbed into a bed we both fit on (basically) and slept like babies (the odd ones who actually sleep through the night.)

We're so unconventional.  I love it.