Category Archives: Jeana Pruitt Weeks

December 29 – Electric Blanket

by Jeana Pruitt Weeks

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I have a new love. It’s a love so true and pure I get a little misty whenever I think about it. Please don’t think me shallow when I tell you the object of my affection is, well, an object. It’s my electric blanket.

I had long forgotten what a beautiful thing a pre-warmed bed was. I have suffered under pounds of blankets for far too long. For Christmas my husband generously relieved my cold-footed misery with a gift of a dual-control velour king-sized electric blanket–complete with auto shut off and a darn near angelic reheat function. It was love at first plug-in.

I had an electric blanket years ago when I was single. It now gently keeps my little girl warm. For so long, I have lived without a truly warm bed, deciding I really didn’t need to spend that much money on a blanket when I could just sleep in socks.

But I was wrong. I needed this.

When I slip into a luxuriously warm bed at the end of long day, I feel so genuinely blessed. I know most of the world has never had this experience nor will they ever. Just thinking about my gift of a warm bed on a cold night makes me warm on the inside (pardon the pun).

Okay, so, yes, I know I live in southern Texas. Yes, I know most of the country simply laughs at what we call winter. (Which, by the way, we laugh at what most of the country calls summer, but I digress.) I firmly admit I can’t handle the cold. It’s just not in my blood, which has thinned out after a lifetime of southern living.

Which is why, I love my electric blanket. If I knew who created such a miraculous invention as a way to warm a bed without setting in on fire, I think I’d kiss him or her, provided he or she was among the living.

My husband lamented that he’s now been replaced. I told him that wasn’t true.

We both knew I was lying.

Jeanna Pruitt Weeks, educator, consultant, blogger, teaches home school. Member of the Ink Blots.

December 27 – Yoga Rant

by Jeana Pruitt Weeks

Yoga Woman on a dock by the ocean

Yoga Woman on a dock by the ocean © Yanik Chauvin | Dreamstime Stock Photos

Let me preface my rant with the statement that I am an old mom. I had my first child at age 36. I am 42 my kids are 5, 4, and 1. I try hard not to let my children lose out because mommy is an old fogey. I take my kids for walks, to the park, let them “practice” the piano, and get into tickle fights with them. Because my life just wasn’t stressful enough, I have taken on the task of homeschooling my oldest little darling–an exercise not for the faint of heart. I have a couple of collegiate degrees under my belt, I felt I should be able to handle the kindergarten curriculum without too much trouble.

I just can’t help feeling old. Take today for example, I took my daughter to the library to let her check out some books. My other two hoodlums were in preschool. It was a nice break and reminded me that there is, indeed, life beyond math and phonic.

Things were going well until we were checking out. Across the foyer from the circulation desk at our library is a large open multi-purpose room. Today, the purpose was to host the “Mommy and Me Yoga” class never giving it more than a passing thought. I just couldn’t comprehend how I could make it work with three preschoolers. Yoga, as I have practiced and understand it, is supposed to be about being calm and peaceful, focusing on your essentials of being like breathing and muscle control. There is nothing calm about my three kids, and there is no peace for me when they are all awake in the same room.

As we were waiting patiently in line, we couldn’t help but notice all the activity across the way from the gaggle of tots and moms laughing and packing up to go home. My daughter asked what all of the kids were doing in the other room. I pretended not to know. I couldn’t avoid the conversation altogether. The moms were rolling up yoga mats, all the while smiling and chatting. They seemed like a happy lot, those moms in their yoga pants, ponytails and big smiles were almost young enough to be my kids.

That’s when it hit me: I am just too old to be at peace with community yoga. Right now, I don’t think I could find the mental peace to even pretend I would enjoy it. After shaking my head at myself for the comparisons (the negative ones aimed at me), I decided I am okay with this. I’ve been dealt a different hand to play, and I need to stop trying to peek at someone else’s.

I did what any 40-something homeschooling mom of a kindergartener would do, I looked at my daughter and asked, “Hey, do you wanna go to Panera Bread to finish your lessons and get some lunch?”

Without blinking her eye, she said “Oh, yes, mommy!” Mommy’s age crisis over for the morning.

Jeanna Pruitt Weeks, educator, consultant, home schools. Jeanna is writing a blog to help other home schoolers. She has published articles in the Beauregard Daily News and other magazines.