"Little" Mount Everest.

I can't sleep. And its all because of a little form that I filled out tonight. Well, "little" in the fact of information...but monumental in what it meant. Tonight I filed my two oldest and well me...as an independent school. What?!?! I know right. 4 Wild Oaks School will be a real deal in January 2018. Remember how the atmosphere changes when I do something big? Yeah, you probably already felt the tremendous atmosphere change. Sorry about that.

But for real. First of all GA apparently is the leanest of lean states to homeschool in. The did not ask for proof of anything. Nothing. They did not ask if I was actually capable to teach my kids, this is still out for debate. They did not ask what medications I might (am..I am...) be taking. They did not bother to ask my age, 30....and just a few...plus a few more , or how well my marriage is (I mean crazy and her calm). They did not care if I was crazy, totally exhausted, mama of 4...I REPEAT 4 boys...nope. You know what they wanted? My address. Good job Georgia.

"Yeah, she...she can teach I mean look she has a house and everything...oh yes lets stamp that...next."

I kinda just sat there and stared at the screen when it said "approved" or whatever it is it said. Enough for me to realize it was done. I sat for 3 seconds and then moved onto the next 20 tabs I had               opened for curriculum (should probably learn how to spell that one...). I was so excited when I first bound down the stairs with the laptop to show Kevin what I was about to do, I was so excited and peaceful as I clicked submit... I was totally fine until I looked at my calm and said "Nervous?" and my "I'm not nervous, or worried, or distressed, or upset, or angry, or mad..." Calm man Said "Yeah. I am nervous." Well. If I had a sound maker on my blog you would hear a toilet being flushed...because one of my kids had just peed..and pooped..while standing...but that's another story for another time...

I felt deflated. But before you blame the amazing Calm Man...he had a right to feel that way. first of all I am clearly not a teacher by nature, I am a teacher now because of necessity. Second, I am always nervous. ALWAYS. About all the things that one could be nervous and worried about...like chicken being cooked enough..I worry about that, more then probably the average person. I have been known to take a piece of chicken onto the porch in the daylight to make sure I don't see a HINT of pink even though every other human says its done. I am a nervous human, and my husband he gets a card people. He gets one card once every year to use his nervous card and honestly I can't think of many times in the 13 years he has used it. So tonight. Tonight friends we give the calm his card. He said it, and then he moved on to encouraging me. How great he thinks I'll do and that he is excited and that he can't wait to see all the boys will learn...yeah me to buddy simmer down, give a me a moment.

Being nervous is not a sin, nor does it disappoint our all knowing God. Nervous does not produce fear (if you let it, like I do it can...) Nervous is our human nature acknowledging that something big is happening. We are standing before Mount Everest. And here is the thing. I am watching climbers prepping to go and I once again am feeling so inadequate to the calling before me.

Kevin is nervous for ALL the right reasons. And it is why I sit up when I should be exhausted because I was up all last night with puking kids. It is ok in life to be nervous. Somehow on the journey with Jesus we convinced ourselves that Jesus was greatly offened when we are nervous, that it means we don't trust Him.

I feel like schooling your kids truly is a picture of Everest that every parent MUST climb. No one is exempt from it.

Public school means you stand at the base of Everest and place your child in a group of trained guides who prepare and guide your kids up the mountain. You see children fall, not make it, stumble, or even get hurt and you know you wont be the first person there for them...That is SO hard. You also know each guide can be a bit of a gamble, just because they are "trained" does not mean they are qualified. You are entrusting them with your heart...not easy.

Then you have private school. And lets be honest, private school is elite. I am not saying that everyone who goes to private school is wealthy, I know families go to great (huge,monumental )sacrifice to put their child in this school. These are the trained of the trained guides. These are the people who are the best of the best in most situations. These guides are well equipped and ready to take your kids on the journey....but not everyone is able to afford these schools, or feel it is right for their family. I will admit though if money was no object I would probably be paying for one of these schools.

Then you have guides who have been teachers themselves. They have been up the mountain, watched others up the climb, they know some of the tricks, things to look for, how to guide children along the way. They know what to avoid and how to navigate some of the hardest parts of the journey. It is not easy, but at least having some background in climbing that can help along the way.

Then there is the guide who has never seen the mountain, has never stepped foot on a mountain, has ZERO climbing experience and doesn't even know where to start. Hmmm which one am I?  I feel like a towns person who comes to the base of the mountain and is watching people get ready to make the climb, looks are her boys and says "Well, kids, I think we might need some snow shoes...I think I saw Curious George make a pair in episode, lets go to town and see what we can find."  Before I go I ask the other guides what to do, the amount of information leaves me paralyzed with fear.  After 2 hours of informational information filled with more info...I turn and say "So....we should get more then just snow shoes?"

I know there are so many other school options I didn't even bother to touch. The reality is we are all on the same mountain, and it is scary. There are some really steep dangerous climbs ahead, but no one can stay at the bottom, its not an option. WE must climb this mountain with our precious hearts. It is hard for every single parent. You get through elementary and middle school is just as scary...have you seen those awkward emotional pimpled stinky kids? Glory. Then high school? They start having their own opinions, they start making decision you have ZERO control over, golly they will be making their own dinners and eating me out of house and home because my go to "if you are really hungry have a bowl of carrots..." will not work on a 16 year old.

We are all facing Mount Everest. Ever single one of us. Last night as I was falling asleep and I was thinking of Mount Everest I couldn't help but see one common factor in every single situation. Jesus. He was behind every guide holding each and every rope that was tethered to our precious hearts.  He had them, and when a guide would fall and our children would begin to slip, He was there. And last night when I felt the overwhelming since of despair,  He once again said His promising consistent words to me...

"But Me Beth, I am all the guide you need, I will take you each step as you navigate this climb. And I promise you this, when you fall, because you will, I have them."

I must rest at that. The climb ahead will be a scary one, sure of moments of failure...but the mountain view...might be the most unbelievable and Miraculous thing I could see this side of heaven.

Hang in there parents, we are each on the journey, you are not alone!

In the Darkness of Medication Came Light

I am not sure how to talk/write about medication when it comes to my kids. It is not because I am embarrassed, ashamed, or not confidant in our decision. I really think its because you want to protect your child from an already cruel and judging world. I do not want you to see medication before seeing my child. Or even have thoughts "must be a day they need to up the meds..." Medication and mental illness do NOT define our children or our family. We are the Tanners, we stand firm in our solid foundation in Jesus, and this is our journey, not our identity.  Therefor, medication and the topic of diagnosis is a touchy one. One we desperately need to shine the light on, but also one you have to be so cautious with. Each word I ever write is prayed over, He gives me permission and releases things I didn't even know could exist. 

I do know I have yet to meet a parent that is excited and happy to put their child on any type of stimulant, anxiety pill, or antidepressants. There are not happy dances and praise hands the day your doctor says "its time." No. There are fears, and sadness...there is concern and the unknown of the future can leave you frozen unable to put one foot in front of the other.... 

There is also thankfulness, yes. Hopefulness, yes. Even relief, sweet relief...but happy, joyful, excitement? No, not terms I hear from parents that are walking this very hard and challenging road.  People ask when we knew it was time for medication, my response is always the same "You just know..." it is really that simple. Every other thing fails you and you are left so desperate and so low you are not sure which way is up...its in that moment you can't wait another day. Relief is desperate. You are screaming for anything to help you and your child. You see them drifting and somehow someway today is worst then yesterday which was worst then the day before.

You find yourself googling, looking for anything that could possibly help. You feel like the most contradicting inconsistent parent on the planet. What worked yesterday made things worse today. You try hard not to stir up any battles or wake the sleeping anger that lays beneath your sons sweet demeanor. So eggshells is your life, you walk lightly, talk sweetly, take so many deep breaths you feel light headed. You find yourself losing your cool on every other child and living creature that crosses you wrong. Your exhaustion is beyond anything you could type on a blog.  You look like a parent who doesn't discipline because you put up with attitude and sharp comments and big fat "NOs!" and its not because you agree with the behavior, its because you know where and what it could do. Desperation is probably not even the right word.

You find yourself crying to anyone who will give you a moment to speak, you find yourself sobbing into the phone leaving your dad a message of total brokenness. You are unsure how you will face tomorrow or if tomorrow can even be faced. You are lost. You have prayed the name of Jesus in every room of the house, anointed with oil, crawled to the foot of his bed while he sleeps and make your desperate pleads to the One who Knows all and is All. And yet....silence. The next day is worst then the day before and it feels as though your prayers just made everything worse.

You finally hit the roof after weeks of walking on eggshells and all your pent up anger comes rolling out of you like Niagara Falls and there is nothing to stop it.  And 5 min later when your voice is horse from all the yelling you are broken once again because you feel like you just lost everything you had maybe gained. You are done. And you see the brokenness on his face. How did it get to this place?

You know....You go to the doctors with your beloved son and you lay it all out. You are done, he is done, we are done, everyone is done. By golly, the dogs are done. You know... It is time. And although there is no happy dance there is hope.

One week later post "vitamins" which is what these medications are referred to in this home, you see glimpses of your son. You see a smile return, a skip to his walk, a sweet hug and a kind word...oh my heavens, then the happy dance starts. Your heart could leap...

Two weeks later and there are no broken pencils, no thrown objects, there is a calmness and peacefulness that returns to your home...Oh Jesus. Thank you.

One month later. I have no words. We are thankful for the reprieve and although we know in two months we might be back to the drawing board with a growing and changing boy we know that medication is needed in this family. We see the change. And when the doctor asks how it is going and he says "I feel better..." you want to squeal and hug every single person in that doctors office. All of the sudden the dark, scary, awful, medication becomes the light, answers, peace, joy, thankful medication...

Now it is just a part of the day. No one even blinks an eye. .3 seconds it takes to take and our world aligns and peace come.

See, desperation always brings us to solutions and cry for help. If I didn't experience the desperation I wouldn't of been willing to go this route, and Jesus knew we needed this medication...he needed this medication, but we had to walk the dark and scary road to see those things.

I don't know where you are on in your journey. But you are not alone. Coming to the decision to put your child on medication is one of the hardest and scariest path a parent has to walk...see its brokenness in this world and its not suppose to be this way. Neither is cancer, or disease...but we live in a broken fallen world desperate for Jesus. Desperation broke us, and in that brokenness we were able to find the healing we all needed.

If you are a parent who has never had to face this journey with your child, I am thankful, this community of parents who are facing it would never wish this for anyone. No one. Be thankful, but be sensitive, be quiet, we don't need words or answers we need prayers and grace. Don't be quick to judge that parent with a child who is out of control in the middle of Walmart...you don't know what their journey is or what they are facing that day.

I know now, but it took desperation and brokenness to know it.

But Jesus, getting glory.