28 September 2014

ON FOURTEEN YEAR OLD SONS

Rhonda Hartman There he is in that picture with me. All taller than me and growing up far too fast for my liking. 

Logically, in my mind, I knew that these days would come when he'd be in high school, and I knew that my time with him would be limited. I knew that he would grow tall and big and strong. I knew that he would be independent because that's what we've taught him to be. I knew all of this.

And I am so proud that he has grown to be all of these things.

But what I didn't know was that fourteen years would pass by in the blink of an eye. I didn't know that I'd miss the smell of baby Jakob quite so much. I didn't know that I'd long for those late nights when he'd wake up, I'd nurse him, and we'd fall asleep together with me holding him. I didn't know that I'd cry at the thought (just the thought!) of him moving away for college. 

I assume that all moms feel this way, but it feels lonely. It feels like I'm the only mom in the whole wide world to ever feel this...this...feeling about him leaving. This is the weirdest feeling ever. It's all pride, anxiety, a sense of accomplishment, lonely, happy, and sad all wrapped into one.

And that's all I have to say about that. 

24 September 2014

WRITE HARD AND CLEAR

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Ernest Hemingway once said, "write clear and hard about what hurts." This quote is currently the background on my iPad because it speaks to the very depths of my soul.

Here it goes for me, I'm going to write clear and hard about what hurts me. 

As y'all know I'm a teacher, and I recently made the switch to middle school at a school with an 85% free and reduced lunch and a D minus on their state report card. None of that bothers me. I'm there for the kids. 

And I love my job. 

What I don't love is people constantly putting teachers down. I know, as does everyone, that not every teacher is fantastic, not every teacher loves their job. There are bad teachers just like there are bad doctors, bad lawyers, bad judges, bad cops, bad road crew workers...the list could go on forever. The majority of teachers are all there for the same reason.

We love what we do, and we want to make a difference in the lives of children. 

It hurts those of us that go to work everyday trying our best to provide kids with the best skills we can give them to make them successful. It hurts those of us who volunteer to coach sports or sponsor clubs to provide kids with the chance to do something they love. It hurts those of us who spend our evenings trying to figure out the perfect "hook" to get that hard to reach kid involved in class. It hurts those of us who lie awake at night desperately hoping that we can get our struggling readers to comprehend. It hurts those of us who buy snacks for kids who don't get to eat at home. It hurts those of us who hug our students because no one at home hugs them. 

I am one of those teachers, and it hurts me to see my kids struggling. It hurts me when a kid tells me they're stupid. It hurts me when they cry after they get in trouble. It hurts me that they'd rather act out than ask for help. 

I don't know when teachers became the brunt of the insults or blaming for things wrong in education. I don't know when people started to have zero respect for the people who are doing one of the most important jobs in the world, educating the world's children. I don't know when it became solely the teachers fault when the educational process started to fail. 

But it hurts. 


21 September 2014

WRITING ++ ANXIETY

I have missed this space.
 

The reading of other blogs gives me this peek into the lives of people who feel like old friends. I can sit on my couch on a Sunday morning drinking coffee, wrapped in the most comfy of blankets, and catch up with these old friends. I have missed that.

The writing of this blog gives me a chance to sift through feelings that seem otherwise positively unsiftable! The Universe knows that my poor husband is probably tired of listening to me sift through them out loud. 

I'm a terrible blogger. And I just read this article wherein science proves that writing, particularly blogging, about feelings and experiences helps with all that emotional stuff that we all have to deal with, and some of us in particular have a more difficult time dealing with. 

I'm wondering if there could be an exact correlation between the amount of ever increasing anxiety I feel and the fact that I'm writing less. If I was good at the maths I'd try to figure that out, but I'm not, and so I won't bother. 

Because I'm trying to also participate in life more (Thanks Charlie for that moniker.) Let me leave you with a list of my current anxieties. I will elaborate more because the internets is nothing if not my therapist.
  • My son is fourteen and in high school.
  • Middle school where I am teaching is challenging, but I also love it?
  • My sister is not speaking to me.
  • We are never going to get pregnant.
  • They are killing dolphins in Japan.
  • My Yukon, that I love, is not fuel efficient. It's also not environmentally friendly. I worry a great deal about the environment. 
  • The state of my closet, and whether or not I should be doing a capsule wardrobe in all neutrals. I want to be a minimalist, but based upon the look of my closet I am definitely failing at that.
  • Suicide rates are rising.
  • Literacy rates are declining.  
Some of these are silly, but they're mine. Some of these I can control; most of them I can't. 

31 August 2014

THINGS I LOVE

You know what is great about blogs? And the internet? 

They're still there even if you leave them for a little while. If you get all jumbled, and you can't find the words it's nice to know that your sweet little blog with its own website will still be there waiting for you. 

I haven't quite found the words yet. I'm still feeling jumbled, but I am still here. And I do believe that I will start writing and blogging again. 


09 August 2014

END OF DAYS

We are about to embark on another school year. Parents are rejoicing. Teachers are lamenting. I cannot believe that soon my life with be orderly and scheduled once again. Honestly I don't know how y'all with jobs that don't get summers off do it. What's the secret? 

I am excited to begin a new chapter with middle school. I was (still am) very nervous, but I feel much better now than I did at the start of summer. I still haven't moved in to my room, and I have no idea what novels are available, but I still am hopeful and even a little excited to start my year. 

What I have done is gone to my first day of professional development. And while it was tiring and hot, it was so wonderful to meet people in my new district. It was nice to be welcomed and told how they appreciate me being there. It was nice that it is a different world than other districts. 

I have also neglected this poor little corner of the interwebs. I say time and time again that I will stop doing that...and yet life gets in the way. But I'll do a catch up post when I can type from my laptop because typing on his iPad is for the birds. 

Until then live the life you imagine.


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