In case you are wondering what this home schooler's house looks like in December, it looks like a cluttered, cabin-fevered sweat shop. That is an actual workbook buried under the gift candy canes station and broken slinky.
(Where did that slinky come from? I swear the child is wearing that hat by choice. And those are her official school pants. She is entirely her own creature.)
I'm always amazed at all the stuff we can cram into a sixteen by twelve foot space that serves as our main school/communal area. That's all my sewing machines and doll making tools, a few hundred books, a type writer, computer, large games wardrobe, table and chairs, couch, laundry waiting to be folded, a half dozen skulls, a couple cats (alive and heat seeking - do not make a lap here unless you want to have wear a purring lap blanket), and children everywhere. And now a Christmas tree. All while maintaining a clear four foot spot of baseboard space so girl child can compulsively do headstands against the wall.
A little squishy in here.
If anyone tries to do anything so crass as to give us stuff for Christmas, I will feel rage.
A bonus right now is that the actual life-size doll that I made occupies a probably not-surprising amount of space is about to ship out to a tattoo shop where it will spend the next few months being indelibly altered by the artists in residence. If you are interested to see how that progresses, I'll be posting update photos on my Malady Beastly Instagram.*
In the meanwhile, hope everyone is warm and living with reasonably interesting clutter.
* Malady Beastly, in case you are wondering, is a mash up between my roller derby name and a childhood nickname that I did not appreciate at the time but I've since learned to embrace. It suits me better in my forties than in did in my tweens.
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