I've been feeling my age this past year.  My oldest will be 20 in September and loving college.  My youngest is still nursing but she is 2 years old and will stop someday, probably sooner then I would like.  Becoming aware that time for new babies is over makes me think that those incredible experiences of nurturing and raising young children are almost over.  Perhaps not tomorrow but with every month I think, perhaps more finished then yesterday.

One of the blessings of being an old and experienced homeschooling mom is that I am so comfortable with my lifestyle.  I've gone past the "How Do I Do It Stage," and the "Will I Ever Prove Myself Stage," and even past the "Ok, So Everybody Knows and Most are Too Busy to Care Stage," and have moved into the "It's Worked, Its Working and It Will Keep Working So Lets Party Stage."  Of  course somebody else might label the stages differently.

It is just an important part of our family make-up.  Sort of like being the wife of a chiropractor and when during a party game somebody yells, "What Neil is!"  And everybody immediately yells the correct answer, "Quack!"  Like the day in Relief Society when we were talking about nourishing our children through spending time with them and I made a comment, with a little chuckle in my voice, that began, "You all know I'm with my children all of the time!"  I paused and everybody laughed except the poor new people who haven't a clue about the Logan clan.

Others are comfortable with us.  That is what it is.  Because I'm an old hand now?  No, certainly not just that.  Comfortable simply because we've served and laughed, lots.  Because my children serve and laugh.  And because we radiate a comfort with ourselves.

I remember those early years when I was very quiet about everything.  Hesitant, responding to questions of how long I am going to homeschool by saying, "I am doing it for this year."  Never mentioning that I would do it for all their years, even though I knew.  I remember feeling defensive when somebody would mention the importance of one concept or another and at the same time mix up life with schooling, such as being an example, or missionary work in school settings.  I remember feeling sadness that friends were not experiencing the same joys that I was because they were having to put up with so much grief by having another woman, the teacher, control their home through her homework assignments, but never realizing the fact that it was a chosen situation.  Now, I can tease and teach in the same breath and come away somehow not offending, just standing out as different...and successful.

Oh, it is a precarious position to be sure.  All it will take is for one of my children to turn to drugs, unbridled passion or apostasy.  That is it really.  It won't matter that eight others are faithful.  It won't matter that 100 other youth in the ward have gone the same path in spite of public education.  That is all it would take to crash down my comfort zone and start me all over again at the old stages with slightly different names.  Names like "How Do I Do It Differently,"  and "Will I Ever Stop Having to Prove Myself," and the "Ok, So Everybody Knows But I'm Too Busy To Care," and finally back to the comfort zone of enjoying the lifestyle while enjoying the company of others.

But today, I love where I'm at.