Today we went to the Natural History Museum. We go regularly, but I have never known it so crowded before. Suffice to say that for a family who hates crowds and heat, going to the Natural History Museum in the summer is a spectacularly bad idea. We won’t be going back until the autumn! I’m also feeling the effects of several nights of poor sleep, although it’s taken me all day to realise that my mood has more to do with tiredness than anything else.
On the way to the museum, my husband (The Common Reader) told the children some more of the long-running dragon story he is writing for them. This story is so good that sometimes total strangers groan with disappointment when we get off the train and they don’t get to hear any more of it. If you love a good magical dragon adventure, petition him to publish it on his Substack.
At the museum I mostly tried to breathe deeply and not implode. Aside from this, we did manage to take in some of the hominin exhibit, the earthquake room, some minerals, and the dinosaurs. At teatime my husband chatted with the children about the visit and amazingly they had retained quite a lot of information.
I didn’t feel my best today. I felt bad that I’d taken everyone to a museum that was heaving and hot. I felt bad that we didn’t do any maths and that I didn’t have anything very exciting to write about in this post. Sometimes this happens in homeschooling, as it does everywhere else. This afternoon I read an e-mail from James Clear which had this little gem in it. If you’ve had a bad day too, you might like it. It’s by Andrew Anabi:
“When life changes, you will probably miss the way it was. You may miss those long morning drives or walks to the office, or those hectic family gatherings. You may miss them because those moments are finite — you will only travel those streets and see those people a certain amount of times.
Every time you do something that is one less time you do it. One day you will do something the final time and you will rarely know when that day comes.
For all you know, today might be the last time you walk in a particular neighborhood. Or it might be the last time you smile at a particular someone. To think otherwise, would be foolish. Nothing is guaranteed, except this moment. Your only real choice is to cherish every exchange like it is your last — because it very well might be.
Therefore, the best way to cherish life is to remind yourself of life’s impermanence. It is to remember that every time you see someone that is one less time you see them. It is to remember that every time you go somewhere that is one less time you visit. By doing this, you naturally slow down. Almost like a reflex, you start to truly live.”
Tomorrow I’m excited to share another special guest edition of How We Homeschooled Today. If you’d like to share your own day, please get in touch. It doesn’t have to be a perfect or impressive day—days when you’re grumpy and things don’t go to plan are also welcome!
We too love the museum for our kids. It used to be a weekly occurrence to go, or at the very least fortnightly, though recently that's fallen off but it's stil one of my favourite things to do!
These old museums get impressively oppressively hot, don't they! We've had similar days. 💕