Peewee Football - Experiencing the Mob Mentality

My son is playing peewee football. He turned 8 last weekend; he was one of the younger ones on the team, most already at 8 years. His coaches have done a wonderful job of showing discipline to the boy as well as the player. One of the first lessons was to always help up whomever you hit. To check on the player, make sure everyone was ok. They answer instructions with "Yes, sir." They run laps when they're needlessly continuing to tackle after the whistle blows. The child receives instructions on how to be a team player as well as how to function in this dysfunctional world of ours.

Digression - In the past, I have taught A Tale of Two Cities to my freshmen. I love this book, long-winded though Dickens may be. In fact, one of the characters had an influence on how we named our son. But when it came to the storming of the Bastille, I always felt I was shooting in the dark. I tried to explain by how excited you get sitting with your friends at a football game. I tried to draw conclusions that the students would understand. But the truth is, I never fully understood, either.

Until this weekend.

Our peewee games have been met thus far with other teams who's coaches acted similar to ours. They all coached all kids, regardless of team. They all demonstrated what it is we hope our children will learn and practice so often it becomes second nature. And then we went up against our most recent opponent.

Before the game even began, there was a feeling - this peewee team was the 'little brother' of one of our arch rivals at the high school level, but the coaches and parents seemed to be trying to hide their feelings for the good of the littles on the field. My son was so excited just to be there, he danced at every play and congratulated every player who came off the field.

Long story, short - they scored and got a two-point conversion (the littles are too small to kick field goals). We scored and missed the conversion, but shortly thereafter, scored again and got it. We were up, 14-8 with two minutes left.

We had a horrible snap and the opponent managed to get the ball. They then ran it in for a touchdown.

This is where the story gets ugly and where my piece culminates. The defensive coach on the opponent's team ran onto the field, yelling for defense to come to him. He then proceeded to jump up and down yelling as loud as he could, "Who's field is this? Who's field is this?" over and over. There were still just under two minutes left on the clock. In peewee time, that is plenty to have the story continue.

Who's field is this? To seven and eight year old children. To littles who've been practicing hard for nearly two months, now. To my bear cub who just loved the game and was hoping he'd be able to make a big play. Who's field is this?

I was livid. I was shaking I was so angry, and I was in disbelief that someone could act so crass.

The ball snapped, and one of our players got past a block, and ran.

He ran that ball in for a touchdown.

I remember nearly every yard his little legs carried him. I remember jumping up onto the seats in front of me. I remember throwing my fist into the air.

I don't remember much else. I don't remember the sound of the crowd. I have no idea what the players or coaches were doing. I didn't even notice the sun blinding me or feel the late summer breeze. All I saw was our little guy outrunning their little guys and triumphing over the bitterness we'd just tasted.

I tasted mob mentality. Or rather, I lost myself in it. I have no memory of so much from that short 10 seconds. I cheered him on, then shook my fist at the other coach and yelled, "Who's field IS this?" and I remember one grandmother turning to me and saying, "THANK YOU."

It's scary, mob mentality is. It washes over one and sweeps one away. Dickens knew what he was saying when he likened the mob to the sea, bathing all of Paris with pitchforks, axes, and torches. And, even for someone who despises losing control, as I do, it is difficult to overcome. I finally had to walk away, turn my back on the game, and breathe deeply.

It wasn't the game. It wasn't the competition. That is merely part of life and something the littles need to learn - sometimes you lose (though, this time, {we don't keep score} we won 20-14).

He conveniently lost his teeth two weeks ago.

It was the blatant disregard for who we were watching that incensed me. That behavior is inappropriate at any age, but for littles who are trying so hard and just learning, it is especially despicable.

I have no doubt the opponent's parents and other coaches had something to say about the conduct of the one. No one from that side of the field left their side until our entire (parking lot) side had emptied. I don't blame them.

But now, the next time I teach AToTC, or any other piece that contains a mob, I'll know more of what I speak. Between you and me, I'd prefer to never feel that way again.

Thoughts on Aging and Hiking Sharp Top Trail

"Life is not about the destination, but the journey."

I have always been a mid-line outdoorsy girl. I grew up camping with my family and we used to go on hikes a lot in both Wisconsin and Kentucky. When we moved to Virginia, there were trails and roads that went through 'hollers' we would travel frequently on our bikes. I loved it all.

But time moves on and things happen and I'm usually more caught up in obligations than in taking pleasure for myself. Now that my son is 7, though, I am able to once again enjoy more on my own, since his Daddy can do more with him.

One such item is a hike to Sharp Top near the beautiful Peaks of Otter in southwest Virginia. On the last day with Mommy before school began, I took Sydney to Abbott Lake - it has a 1 mile, paved path around the lake that was perfect for a then-6 year old to explore. We examined plant life and butterflies - took pictures that focused on texture and color, and just enjoyed ourselves tremendously. I realized that Abbott Lake was at the base of three hikes that I'd heard of frequently but never climbed and decided that while my boys went to football games, I'd try my hand at these.

Abbott Lake sits nestled at the base of three mountains that offer beautiful views of the entire region. Sharp top isn't the highest mountain, but it is the steepest climb at a shorter distance. I knew it had been awhile since I'd been hiking, and even though I'm active, I'm not as consistent as I should be. It is because the hike is shorter that I chose to do this one first, even if it is steeper. Knowing that it has been years since I've actively hiked, and that I am a bit older than I used to be, I knew I needed to be careful.

I was... shocked. I expected to get winded. I expected to be a bit achy afterwards. But I did not expect to struggle as I did while actually hiking. I turned 40 this year. My knees aren't what they used to be. And I had thankfully thought to bring a hiking stick, but there were moments where my knees and my mind were definitely not in agreement. I don't feel 40. And I'm terribly stubborn. And I know there is a tremendous amount of 'mind over matter' in aging. But I cannot deny the fact that I had to go slower than I expected. It makes me wonder if I'll be able to accomplish some of the others that are longer hikes in a day.

I love this picture - it shows Abbott Lake at the base of the three mountains. I am at the top of Sharp Top. The mountain on the left is Harkening Hill. The one cut off on the right is Flat Top. I needed to take this picture because, from the lake, Sydney and I had made a point of looking up and identifying which mountain was which. It is the alteration in perspective that I wanted my 7 year old to see.

Ultimately, I had to recognize the difference in my abilities and my stubbornness. I had to make peace with certain aspects of my life. But I will never stop. Because I refuse to allow age and the human body to keep me from doing that which I enjoy and which brings me peace.

"It is not about the destination, but the journey." What realizations have you reached as you grow and mature? What have you had to make peace with in your life? Where will your journey lead you in life?

Tomatoes, Hornworms, Braconids, and Robert Burns

To a Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With a Plough - Robert Burns

Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave 'S a sma' request:
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' wast,
An' weary Winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald.
To thole the Winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

For the first time since my son was born, I planted a garden. We decided, together, to plant pumpkins, peppers, beans, and tomatoes. My pumpkins fared well enough. The peppers never produced. The beans did ... poorly. However, my tomatoes took off. I was able to eat my fill this summer, can for this winter, and am still getting viable tomatoes even though the vines appear dead. This has made me rather happy and I am anticipating doing more next summer. 

However, as I was examining the garden this evening, I found hornworms - the bane of tomato growers everywhere. Or, at least, gardeners who do not use pesticides. The hornworms will eat the leaves and stems and weaken the plants. 

My photo is horrible.

But when you see a hornworm that looks like this - leave it alone. The white "spikes" are cocoons of the braconid wasp - a natural enemy of the hornworm. By keeping this worm here, in my overgrown and tired garden, the wasp will ensure I have fewer hornworms next year. Yay!

It was through this image, though, that I thought of Robert Burns and his poem. You can see, I still have a tomato waiting to ripen, while two that were damaged by, probably our groundhog, hanging and rotting behind it. I had a prolific crop. Why worry about the few that were sampled by the groundhog, or damaged by the hornworm, when I have enough for myself? I love Burns' lines: 

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve; 
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live! 
A daimen-icker in a thrave 'S a sma' request: 
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave, 
An' never miss't!

"I doubt not that you may thieve;

What then? Poor beast, you must live!

Words to live by. It drives home the fact that, in teaching my son that he needs to distinguish between what he needs and what he wants, I am asked to consider that on a daily basis, as well. We should all consider it more. Share more. Love more. And don't sweat the small things like a solitary hornworm on your tomato plants. 

Declining the Beauty Invitation

What is beauty?

I was raised to understand that beauty was internal - the light that shines from your eyes and the personality that draws others to you. Of course, that didn't stop me from, at one time or another, believing I wanted to be a model when I grew up - so glamorous - such an exciting lifestyle.

Years later, I have a much more mature outlook on beauty. Yes, there are times I wish I had been 'blessed' more, but I understand now that beauty is, first and foremost, subjective. What I find physically beautiful does not always register with what others believe to be physically beautiful. And what I deem beautiful in personality, in maturity, in mien does not always correlate to others' definition of beauty. And heaven forbid we forget just how much those magazine covers are touched-up before they go to print.

It has taken me a long time to understand and accept that, not only will certain things about myself, physically, never change to what the 'accepted' norm for beauty in our society is, but also that there is no real 'accepted' definition of beauty because it is, in fact, all subjective. And the stronger my voice is for acknowledging this absence of a steadfast norm, the more accepting of myself am I, as well as a good lesson and model for my students.

So, why the blog post on beauty?

Lately, on social media, there seems to have been a ridiculous surge in beauty products that 'will help me feel beautiful and reach the standard of beauty for which I've been striving' (my quotes are more sarcasm than any advertising). And it hasn't been just one or two independent sales reps who have been trying to make money on the side - I get that. I'm a public school teacher. There have been times I've considered becoming a consultant for one thing or another in order to make money, especially during the summer months.

But I've been included in, without permission requested, two groups for various wraps, groups for various beauty products, groups for exercise regimens, etc. I followed a woman on Instagram because we seemed to have the same interests. She has two young sons near the age of my son. She is active in her life and offers tips for the working Mom. It made sense that, considering all we had in common, I make that connection. But then she started pushing her private business more than posting her daily life. It began to feel like I was scanning through an online infomercial rather than seeing her life as a mother of boys. So, I unfollowed her. Why should I deliberately accost myself with her advertisements when I have the power to eliminate them?

I went on a 'cleaning spree' at that moment, and unfollowed another mother who was doing the same thing. And then I went to Facebook and disengaged myself from the various groups who had drafted me without my acknowledgment. Within 5 minutes, one of those groups added me back in, again without asking if I wanted to be part of it.

Here's the deal - I don't want to be part of it.

I am, by MY standards, not gorgeous. I am, however, beautiful. I am loving and accepting and loyal. I take care of myself as best I can with what I have and am determined not to live outside my means to suit what is currently in style just to fit in with society or to make myself more beautiful. I have a delightfully precocious and entertaining son, a loving husband, a job that keeps me on my toes and an active life that involves all of these aspects. I do not have extra time or money, or energy for that matter, to dedicate to wraps and creams and peels and anything else that makes me feel unworthy.

So, I'm fighting back. I am enough.

I applaud anyone who wishes to participate in any of these endeavors. But only if you're doing this for yourself and not because of peer pressure or guilt or generally feeling unworthy. Because you're not.

You're not unworthy. You're beautiful. It takes all kinds to make this world the glorious mix that it is. I felt that we were moving in the correct direction recently - that the airbrushing was being made known, and that body image issues were coming to light. And then this surge hit. And I want everyone to know that it matters not what you think is wrong, because you are right. You are beautiful.

Summer Comes to Another Close - New School Year Goals

I can't believe it is nearly time. This summer, more so than in the past, seems to have flown by. Syd is older and requires much more energy out of me, though, so that may be where my lapse in time enters. He also grew out of his naps a few weeks into summer, so I've been mourning the loss of my quiet "Mommy Time."

So, with only a few more items left on my "Things I Have to Get Done During Summer or They Won't Get Done" list, my mind is already distracted by looking to the future and the beginning of a new chapter. What do I need to do so my work week goes more smoothly? What do I need to accomplish so I don't feel a panic rise at the thought of the first day of school? How can I make mine, and my family's, lives better over the next few weeks in preparation for the next 9 months?

1. I want to stockpile slow-cooker recipes and create "at-a-glance" grocery lists for items specific to these recipes that I may need. Starting last year, we utilized our slow-cooker much more frequently. It saved many a dinner. In fact, I want to obtain a smaller size for meals that require more than one component, or for desserts. I've become a fanatic on Pinterest, pinning slow-cooker recipes that I think my family would enjoy. I need to sort these and organize them in a way to ensure at least 2 meals a week via the slow-cooker. And stockpile the little baggies that make cleanup soooo much quicker.
2. I also want to stock up my freezer with pre-made breakfasts. I've done that every fall, and it helps tremendously until we find our rhythm. Frozen homemade pancakes for Syd; egg cups w/ veggies for me - look through the recipes I've discussed on this blog and you'll find these hints for a healthy and easy start to the mornings. Just make sure you use parchment paper to separate the frozen pancakes or you'll spend more time trying to pry them apart!
3. Syd is all set for school clothes, but I need a few fresh items. My wardrobe is tired. But I hate loathe despise detest clothes shopping. It takes all my energy. Regardless, I need to find a few new items to add to my closet before I have no time to get out and look around.
4. One last thorough scrub of the house would be nice, but I'm not pushing it. I've had a mind to scrub the kitchen floor all summer. I'm not sure it would be worth it, though, since at one point or another, I've had to mop up something Syd spilled, so I'm sure the floor got wiped in its entirety anyway, right? I'm just thrilled I got to wipe down all cabinets and the ceiling fans. It doesn't hurt to hope, though, since I probably won't get to a full cleansing again until winter break. 

And now, for school goals...

1. Last year, I did well with utilizing all my free time during the 1st semester. I stayed on top of assignments and I handed back papers quicker than I ever have in the past. I was very proud of myself. And burned out very quickly. I teach upper level students - which translates to a ton of short answer and essay grading - by winter break, I was exhausted and felt I'd ignored my own needs (and some of my family's needs) far too much. I need to continue to work on balance. This will be my 10th year as a high school teacher, and I STILL have no idea how to balance home life with school. It is very frustrating.
2. I rearranged my room - my set-up needed a big change. It is far more inconvenient for me, but I'm hoping it will encourage me to monitor more closely the students as they work. I spent three days at a workshop with Anita Archer and, while I don't agree with everything she taught, found a great deal of her ideas to be the change I needed in my classroom. I'm hoping to be able to reach the students who flail more quickly to ensure their success - especially in our society's data-driven school system.
3. I want to work to help our department stay tightly-knit. We're a very close department. But stress and duties and priorities can cause hairline fractures in any relationship. I know we're coming in after time off and that is the best medicine teachers can have, but I want to mend any rifts and make sure we're 'feeling the love.' I've got a special project in line for our first department meeting. And yes, it's a little cheesy, but I don't care - I'm a cheesy person. And proud of it. :-)

I love teaching. I know that keeping my list of expectations for myself small will help me succeed - and even though the list is small, the objectives are rather large. So, here's to new beginnings. Here's to a new chapter and, as a last note, Autumn, my favorite season, is nearly here! All will be right with the world. :-)

Homesick - The Importance of Place.

It is by knowing where you stand that you grow able to judge where you are. – Eudora Welty

     In graduate school, I took a class on Ecocriticism. I took this class partially because the title fascinated me, but also because I was feeling a connection to land - to place, and I wanted a chance to indulge myself and examine what I was feeling and why. Ecocriticism is, essentially, the study of Place in literature. It is not the landscape or the setting, but Place almost as if it were a character within the text. It was a fascinating class.

     In the process of writing my final paper for this class, I read a book called From Where We Stand- Recovering a Sense of Place by Deborah Tall. The book offered a look at Place as it impacts us. According to some theories, wherever we live at the age of 10 is where we feel a deep connection. I refuse to speak for others, but where I was at the age of 10 was in Wisconsin - on the prairies - with the breeze rippling across the prairie grasses and undulating over the hills. With puffy cumulus clouds that seemed close enough to touch as you laid on your back, warming up from the cool swimming pool waters and with the sky matching the blue of the water at your side. With storms that you could smell miles away and funnel-clouds that arose in purple clouds - and sirens that sounded directing you to your basement's alleged safest corner - the southwest corner. With lake-effect snow that, at 5 inches, was a tease as you walked the mile to school and you only jumped for joy when a solid foot fell overnight. With the joke that Wisconsin has only two seasons: shovel and swat. And with snow that stuck around for more than a day.

     Flash forward many years. I have fallen in love with the mountains of Virginia. Autumn is my favorite - the motley of colors splashed against the rising, rolling peaks dotted with shadows from clouds enthrall me. I find a lot of beauty in all I see and in every season. Virginia has all 4 seasons - most of the time. But the winter here is dull. I cherish the days we get snow, even if the curving, hilly roads are too dangerous to attempt. Most of the time, though, when we do get snow, it is usually coated with ice or it melts within a day. It is not much fun for playing in and cabin fever can be even more realistic than it was in the frigid Wisconsin temperatures.

     On a few occasions, we will get a storm so powerful, or the temperatures will remain low long enough, that the snow will last more than a day. And on those occasions, I feel a tremendous homesickness. I've been in Virginia for 26 years, now, and I still yearn for the nights when the clouds insulated the air and I and my brother went out to shovel our driveway at 10 at night in hopes that our Mom would have an easier time the next morning. I miss the blue hue that night takes on when any and all light is reflected in the crystalline ground. I gaze, longingly, at the rolling hills here, serpentine tracks from sledders (sleds - not sleighs. The two are not interchangeable.) curving down until the bottom is reached and a host of foot tracks climb to the top. And I miss the warmth that can accompany the cold when you work up a sweat shoveling, or rolling a huge base to a snowman, or engaging in a snowball fight.

     I am homesick at the moment. I am so happy that the storm that hit us last Thursday has lasted this long. I love the fact that I got 3 days of shoveling in - at least an hour each day - providing me with a workout, fresh air, sense of accomplishment, and a reason for a back massage all in one. And I am so thankful that my son got to go outside every day this week to play without worry about wind or mud or ridiculously frigid temperatures and was worn out every evening, dropping easily off into slumber. Steve laughed at the frustration he's felt, having to trek into work -- he shook his head in exasperation and said he has absolutely no inclination to move further north. 

     These mountains are where he was when he was 10. And he loves these hills. When we take a trip to the beach, as much fun as we have, he sighs in happiness and relief when we finally get back to "his mountains." I know I will never be able to instill in him the same love I have for my prairies. And I know, too, that I am easily looking past the downfalls to my prairies. But I am relieved to know that, regardless of Place and Home, as much as I love my prairies, my time here has demonstrated that every place you try on can be a fit, if you give it a chance.

     Steve and Sydney are my true home. I miss my prairies, and I enjoy knowing I'll, one day, be able to show Sydney the joys I experienced as a child growing up on the lolling hills. But as long as I have my two boys, I'll be home, regardless of prairie or ancient hills.

     Where were you at age 10? Does it have a wonderful hold upon you? Are you still there and is that landscape a part of who you are?

Image of prairie courtesy of http://www.nature.org/ourinitiatives/regions/northamerica/unitedstates/wisconsin/explore/wisconsin-military-ridge-prairie-heritage-area-hunting.xml

Image of Appalachian Mountains courtesy of http://nowitz.photoshelter.com/image/I0000F2yTIV2TnHk

Reminiscing while Juggling Tasks - Making My Love Known

We've been hit with the 3rd largest snow storm in my town's recorded history. It isn't THAT much, in terms of what I've seen as a child growing up w/ lake-effect snow from Lake Michigan in Waukesha, Wisconsin, but it is enough, what with our hills, curvy roads, and mountain passes, to side-line everything in the surrounding area for a few days.

That being said, today is Valentine's Day, and while I did have something special and unique planned for Steve (we don't usually celebrate this as a special day, since I'm thankfully conscientious of how important he is to me), the weather has side-lined it. It may end up being a birthday surprise this summer when there is no chance of a blizzard ruining it. :-)

Instead, though, I did what I felt was next best - and what I strive to do on a daily basis - I wanted to demonstrate to him, and to my son, what true love looks like. Steve had to go to work. He purposely drove a work jeep home so he could get in and out over the past two days, swinging by to pick up his employees, coming home an hour or more late due to impassable roads, etc. So, what could I possibly do to make his life easier once he got home from making sure the entire valley had water? That his employees were safe?

Yes, a hot dinner on the table is essential. But so is a driveway that is maneuverable, a happy child waiting to play with him, work clothes cleaned, folded, put away. I am happy to take care of my family when they do so much to take care of me. And Steve is such a kind soul - such a good Daddy - such an uplifting friend and confidante and positive influence in both our lives. He is worth the sore back I will have the next few days.

So, I bundled the kiddo up and we went outside to play. I cleared out enough for his car to come home and dug my car out so today's sunshine would make short shrift of the thaw. Syd loved the huge pile I made near the mailbox, and climbed to the top over and over, yelling in glee as he crested.

Then, no snow day is complete without the signature snowman. I have a kit that my wonderful sister gave us for Christmas several years ago, but I hadn't fully expected Syd to last this long in the snow (the past few days, we've lasted 30 minutes, tops). He proved me wrong and we built this guy, using gravel and mulch for the face.

My thoughts drifted back to my childhood, after we moved to Virginia. There was a huge snowstorm when I was in high school, and when I think of it, I automatically remember my entire family getting so excited because we'd missed our Waukesha snow so much. My mother couldn't make it into work, so she was home with all of us. We made a HUGE snowman in the driveway - at least 6 feet tall (if you know the women in my family, that is huge!). My mom went inside, gathered together several water bottles, and filled them with water and food coloring, and we completely decorated our snowman, giving her a dress, a face, hair, etc. I know we have pictures somewhere, but I will have to really dig to find them.

My point is, in building our snowman below, and the subsequent activities, I thought very fondly of the time Mom and I spent together outside, forgetting chores and roles and just playing. I truly hope that Syd grows up to have fond memories like these of the two of us, especially since we'll be sharing all snow days together.

After the snow man, Syd and I rested in the seemingly warm snow. The temperatures have risen to the high 40s, and it was downright pleasant to lay in the snow, staring up at the cerulean blue sky with nary a cloud nearby. I was struck by this picture, and I wish you could truly see just how beautiful it was with the sparkles from the snow reflecting off his skin.

He got tired of laying and started throwing snowballs at me. So, I did what any good Mommy would do and began to wrestle with him. Here, he is struggling to stand back up.

He continued to throw snowballs, so I talked him into building a snow fort so we could attack Daddy when he got home. This shows how tall it is! We'll both be able to successfully duck down and block any snowballs coming our way.

I built a fort for Daddy, too. After I finished, Syd wanted to test them out, so we had a snowball fight. Here's a solid launch he let fly. Suitably, it looks like it is in the shape of a heart! After a long day fighting snow, keeping us in water, and just being out and about, I know a snowball fight with our new forts will help Daddy forget his stress and kick off his weekend perfectly.

After we came inside, I got laundry going so we would have dry clothes to get into for our next trip into the white wonderland outside. Then, we baked a cake. One square pan and one circle pan. Cut the circle in half and attach with frosting to perpendicular angles of the square to form a heart. Syd loves to bake with Mommy, and Daddy will still have something special waiting for him at home.

How do you show your love in simple ways? How do you pass the time when the weather is bad? Share your ideas and perhaps we'll try yours next snowstorm!

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone - and Happy Memories with the simple things in life.

Simplicity is Key - Holidays 2013

What is one of your favorite past-times during the holiday season? What traditions do you hold dear to your heart and carry forth each year?

My husband and I love the nights when we turn on our fireplace (electric heater - one of our best investments!), turn off the lights, and just sit on the couch enjoying each other's company while we drink hot cocoa with whipped cream and watch the tree lights twinkle against the various ornaments.
We will always do that. I can visualize us sitting together sipping cocoa in 50 years. It doesn't happen every night, but when we do take advantage of the opportunity to just stop and listen and be together in quiet, it is a glorious moment and I cherish those evenings.

My sister has some wonderful tips on her blog, Art at Dawn. And truth be told, I've incorporated several of her ideas into our lives in the past (ahem - baking cookies...). Part of the holiday season that we love and loathe at the same time is the frenzied schedules, wild decorating, incessant baking and cooking. But do we have to blindly accept this?

We're trying something new this year. We want to try to capture the same spirit of the season with less stress - less hassle - fewer moments of "I need to catch my breath." How are we attempting it, you ask? Two occasions have already presented themselves:

1. Our tree. We used to get a live tree. When Syd was old enough to pull it over, we invested in a beautiful pre-lit artificial tree that was covered in "snow." Last year, however, the "snow" caused rather severe allergic reactions in the three of us while we were putting it up and taking it down, so we decided it was time for Steve to take it to work and we would go back to our live trees. But why spend money and time on that when we had these lovelies packed away? Our three trees have been in storage for nearly 10 years. I wasn't even sure they would work. But once I started setting them up, I loved the way it looked - especially when we set up our growing village for the first time since Syd came along. This was simple to set up, Syd had a ton of fun unpacking the villagers, and the house is just as festive as it would have been with the single tree.
2. Our cookies - I love baking. It relaxes me. But when I am trying to balance home, school, laundry, cooking and baking, it can get stressful. Add in the fact that my little chef is old enough to truly help me and wants to, and things can get even more exciting! I decided that we're going to try a single type of cookie this year that allows you to choose different additives to change the flavor. And I don't mean my famous biscotti. I will miss baking my biscotti, but I am excited to try variations on my meringue, and I am looking forward to having my little helper work with me. 

I am sure there will be more opportunities and more choices to make as the season progresses. I have no doubts there will be those harried moments. But I also know that I feel more relaxed entering this season than I have in quite some time, and it is a rather enjoyable feeling to experience. 

So, as the season begins with tomorrow's Thanksgiving celebrations, what steps are you taking to ensure enjoyment in all you do? How are your plans progressing? In all the memories that filter back to my mind's eye as I think of the holidays, it is the people I remember the most - the visiting with family - and the moments of quiet that punctuate the noise that accompanies those visits. I look forward to having crowds visiting and an abundance of food, but I also look forward to the contrasting solitude and serenity that comes with a moment of silence and a mug of hot cocoa, sitting next to my wonderful husband.

Why I Decided not to Stress - Nanowrimo 2013

At the beginning of this school year, I made a vow to myself to use every spare moment - to prioritize my time - to cherish opportunities for accomplishing everything. While I have had a few set-backs, I have been far more successful in keeping up with everything. Nothing is perfect, but I feel I am more balanced and more up to date than in the past. For example, this is the first time I've ever gotten both summer reading projects for my AP kids graded within the first half of the first quarter. I have been pleased with my efforts, and vowed to keep working towards the goals I had set for myself.

November's Nano started with big expectations. I was looking forward to writing my next novel, and I felt confident as the month began. I easily sailed through the first week, building my word count up and surpassing the daily goals by 2,000 words in that first week.

The second week began and I knew I was going to have to fight to make my word count. I had a few days at school where I seemed to run at a break-neck speed. I began to fall behind. I held my ground and managed to take care of school, the house, and cater to my son, somewhat, and still catch up by writing nearly 5,000 words in one day over the weekend.

That was exhausting.

Syd is still in the habit of getting up by 5:30 on most mornings. Now that I'm no longer nursing, we've gotten into the habit of getting to bed by 10:30. On 'Mommy Nights' - days when I bathe Syd, rock and read, and put him to bed, I am usually free by 8:30. That gives me two hours to get ready for the next day, to complete school work, to straighten the house and throw a load of laundry in, and to write.

Let's be honest. Not much writing was getting done after 8pm. I am tired in the evening. It is difficult to keep everything in balance and I had faith that I could still do it all. I have a great idea for my book and it started to write itself. But then it took a very odd turn, and I struggled to make connections between where it was heading and where I wanted it to head.

But then I started feeling that same gripping, drowning feeling I've had in the past. I started to stress over not getting an opportunity to write. I started fussing at Sydney when I was trying to write and he wanted to play, or watch Mommy write, or just needed a granola bar or milk in his cup. And I felt horrible.

And my grading began to pile up. And laundry began to pile up. And my cooking/baking slackened.

Needless to say, I started to struggle to find the words to put down on paper. And I fought myself to force myself to write.

And then I wondered why.

I've accomplished this once. I know I will have more opportunities to complete this in the future. Why does it have to be THIS year? Why?

And I realized... it doesn't.

And I decided to let go. To return to the plans and vows I had made myself that were making me content. I returned to playing with my son. I returned to baking for fun. I returned to trying to keep the ever-growing/never-ending piles of laundry smaller.

And I felt peace.

So, remember, above all, "To thine own self be true," and pick your battles. Do what makes you happy for who you are, not for some random goal you feel you have to accomplish. I got halfway to the end in my Nano 2013 sprint. And I'm very happy about that. And I'm perfectly content to leave it sitting there until time and energy allow me to refocus on my writing as opposed to my other goals in life.

And most importantly - I felt peace with my decision.

This holiday season, do what makes you happy. And find your peace.

My Story - Endometriosis: Part IV - Post-Baby

My baby boy was beautiful. Perfect. Truly perfect.

He was breach, so by having a c-section, his head came out perfectly round with no pointed crown. He had flawless skin and has only started developing freckles as he's aged. He didn't have any birthmarks. He had eyes so dark it was difficult to see what color they were, but then they turned a cool gray/green. He was, and still is, beautiful.

Sydney knew what he wanted, too - his latch was unmistakable. He grew quickly and is still a big eater. I nursed him for nearly 3 years. And because he ate nothing but breastmilk for the first 7 months, the hormones to produce the milk prevented anything else from happening with my endometriosis. It was wonderful. I started to think the pregnancy had "cured" everything.

When Syd turned 7 months old and started solid food, the milk production obviously reduced. With the reduction, the pain started to return.

Over the course of the next few months, the waves of pain, discomfort, and bleeding began to increase exponentially. It was manageable while I still nursed primarily, but as Syd began eating increasing amounts of solid food, and reducing the amount of milk, the symptoms grew.

By the following August, in 2011, I was experiencing so much pain my doctor recommended we try an IUD to control the hormones and help alleviate the excruciating discomfort. During work week of the school year, I paid a visit to my doctor. And I regretted it.

We were to wait up to 3 months to make sure the hormones were working. Every month that passed, I kept hoping that "it would soon be better - by next month, I would be fine." Every month that passed got worse. And the end result of what was transpiring was a solid four-month stretch that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Here, there are details I will refrain from going into - but something had to change.

In December, I read a book that spoke of the uses of progesterone to treat any number of maladies in "aging" women - not menopausal - not perimenopausal, but premenopausal women. I was absolutely miserable. To be quite honest with you, I've shut out some memories from that time (less than a year ago) and can only say that I was ready to just get everything taken out.

At my next doctor appointment, I discussed everything - laid it all out on the table. I'm sure I was instrumental in causing her to be late with subsequent appointments, but frankly, I didn't care because I was desperate for something to change. We immediately removed the IUD and the doctor asked I keep her up to date on how my body was sorting itself out.

I fought to try to do whatever I could to help myself. I increased water consumption. I tried regular exercise. I increased natural foods - grains and fresh veggies. I tried to monitor my sleep and, even with a young one, maintain a consistent sleep schedule. Nothing worked. My body was all over the place.

Three months later, I started bleeding. Hard. And bad. I, again, will refrain from detail. But it came to a point one afternoon where I called the doctor's office on my way home and asked the nurse to do whatever she needed to do to 'fix it.' I was absolutely desperate lest my home life and my career be compromised. She called me back within 20 minutes and told me when to be at the hospital for an ablation.

Less than a week later, I had an endometrial ablation. I was very lucky in that the outpatient surgery coincided with the beginning of our spring break, so I did not miss out on any school. However, I did not get anything done for school that week, and I missed out on a lot of play time with Sydney. The end result was initially quite worth it, though.

Since the ablation, I have had absolute negligible amounts of bleeding - nearly 2 years later. The procedure rectified the weakness that accompanies loss of blood, and the loss of blood, itself, but it has done nothing to remedy the pain, the bloating, the discomfort of endometriosis, nor the cravings, the irritability, the acne, the bloating that accompany a normal menstruation cycle.

Essentially, I still have the exact same problem as before, minus the expulsion of endometrium cells. I call these my "non-period periods." In addition to my "NPPs," I also have near constant pressure on my lower abdomen and lower back pain. I can no longer sleep on my stomach as it makes my lower back ache far too much. I have trouble lecturing for too long in class because standing for extended amounts of time makes me feel like someone is squeezing me in a vise. I am miserable during our SoL testing because we are not supposed to sit - we have to be constantly moving to monitor the students as they test and these tests last for hours on end. I have to watch how I pick up my son, how I play with my son, how long I spend time doing chores around the house.

I hate this aspect of my life. I refuse to let it derail the plans I have. It sidelines me, sure, but it won't win. The problem is, I'm not even sure having a hysterectomy would rectify the situation in any manner. So, it is a game of "how much can I take before I must lie still with a heating pad." It is a constant reminder to me that I struggle to do what I should be able to do without blinking.

Photo courtesy of https://www.violetpetalstudy.com/FAQ.aspx?l=e

I know this path in my life is far from over. I just wanted to let others know where I've traveled in hopes of helping someone - anyone - who experiences the same situation. So, to all my Endo Sisters, stay strong and refuse to give in. I'm here for you.

Unexpected Realizations - Lesson Planning for Freshmen

I've said the Pledge of Allegiance on a nearly daily basis for over 20 years.

For awhile, when I was the student, there were times it became rote. I would stand for the required 20 second speech, hand over heart, and my mind would switch off while my brain spoke. At other times, usually when the speaker we all followed like lemmings had longer pauses than accustomed to, I would think about what I was saying and it would have a fresh impact on me.

Then, someone some where in my life pointed out Red Skelton's vignette from his show and I was amazed.  I was already out of high school at this time but it made me thankful to have the sincere meaning stressed to me again. I promised myself that if I went into teaching, I would have a lesson based on the Pledge in hopes of reminding the wave after wave of young people I encountered why we celebrate Independence Day, why Memorial Day is so important, why we need to treat our veterans with respect and compassion. Considering how many of "my kids" have gone into the military since I started teaching, this is even more important to me.

At the end of this past school year, I was in a full-fledged creative flow. Steve even expressed surprise at each new project I began, and seemed dubious about my dedication to finish them all. I'd been itching for months to let my creativity out of hiding, and the constructing of a Pinterest account in addition to impending summer months with a child old enough to participate increased my endeavors.

Although I've worked my various creative side on numerous projects, I'm still feeling a little unfulfilled. Many of the projects I've developed over the past two months (beginning before school let out) were toddler/preschooler based. I am still yearning to stretch my own muscles before they atrophy.

Yesterday I was running errands. I took a different route to a store for a change of scenery.  While paused at a stop light I've driven past countless times, I noticed one of the metallic historical markers that explained the significance of William Fleming, a physician and member of the military who lived in Virginia during the late 1700s. I was struck by this marker that is probably ignored 99% of the time people drive past it.

http://littlebitsofhistory.blogspot.com/2012/12/dr-william-fleming.html

Just like my reawakening to the importance of the Pledge of Allegiance every time I stop and think about each line, I was shocked to realize how little I knew about William Fleming. I was horrified to think of how little I knew about William Byrd, even though I've looked him up. And I've taught Patrick Henry's speech to the Virginia Convention, but how much do I actually know about the man?

http://www.encyclopedia.com/RankImages.aspx?topicid=58354
William Byrd II

Eureka! I am teaching freshmen again this year. It has been... 6 years? since I've taught the general freshman classes. Since then, our standards have changed and a much larger influence is placed on nonfiction literature, on vocabulary, on grammatical construction. Since these students are new to the high school scene, why not ensure they have a full understanding of the importance of their own school's namesake? Why not research the buildings in this area that have been named after those who had an impact on this community and develop their appreciation of their hometown? The lesson will accomplish, hopefully, much more than mere preparation for their benchmark tests.

And as I'm pondering this idea, I realize that my creativity has been flowing the entire summer - just in a different canal than the one I intended. I've been thinking and rethinking my lessons - what I've done in the past, what I can salvage, what needs to be completely trashed or can survive an alteration, since May. What I didn't realize was that, as I was making cardboard box rockets, or hand print t-shirts, or canning jam or cleaning out the closets, I was doing what I've wanted to do.

I still need my time this summer. I still have many projects - some for me, some for Syd, to accomplish. But I am feeling a quickening. I am excited for next school year. I am by no means ready for it, but I am looking forward to implementing my new ideas. And I'm amazed by the little things, like an historical marker, that inspire me every day.

Feeling Restless

Image from http://worldwide.aceharmon.com/ace-harmon/2009/1027

I'm feeling antsy. 

I have so much I want to do. 

So much I need to do.

I have areas of me aching to stretch and grow

to hinder atrophy

 test creative muscles

experiment

Facets yet to discover

Experiences to share

I think this is the worst case of 'Itch'

I've had in years.

The summer cannot come

soon enough.

Bittersweet Weekend

 This weekend was long and bittersweet, for several reasons.

The Sweet:

We finally got a decent snow. My school system is desperate to get a minimum of 10 inclement weather days this year, or we are required by the state to start after Labor Day next year. Now, anyone who is familiar with the Murphy's Law knows that if we start after Labor Day next year, we will lose all our teacher work days and carry school into July because that is when we'll get our 10+ days. 

We were closed with Hurricane Sandy. And now with the remnants of Storm Iago. Apparently, this is a year for the 'named' weather.

That being said, the snow was welcome for 3 reasons: 

1. Simply put, it offered us a day at home.
2. It is much better timing than hitting this upcoming week (our first round of SoLs is the 30th). 
3. We're closed Monday for Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Thus, we have a 4-day weekend.

 Syd snoozes. He sure knows how to sleep hard! I only included this because, well, it's cute.

 We got out of school early on Thursday. I had just enough time to get to the grocery store and get home before the sleet started. By 3pm, it was snowing. Here, Syd and Daddy play in the snow after dinner. It is an excellent way to use of the last vestiges of energy! It also offered excellent Daddy-son time, as Steve had to go out of town the next day for the entire extended weekend for business.

What isn't shown above is that this was a beautiful, wet snow. This took me back to my days in Wisconsin when our lake-effect snow would come. It was perfect and wet and heavy and made the best snowmen. Knowing the area in which I live, I knew the packing ability would diminish by dawn, so in the half-light after dinner, we made Sydney's first snowman. The next morning, Syd and I went back to take pictures before the sun did its damage.

 Not bad! Mommy did most of the work on the base of the body, but Syd and Daddy helped with the middle ball and the head. Syd placed every piece of accessory himself.

The Bitter:

Unfortunately, while we were gearing up for the weekend and Daddy's business trip, I was awaiting news from my sister about Pop pop. He passed away Thursday. 

Yours was a beautiful life, Pop pop. You are loved, and you are missed. I only wish I could be there in person to give Grandma a huge hug and say goodbye to you.

In addition to all that was going on this weekend, Skye had been quite ill. 

Kitty Skye died on Saturday. 

This was difficult to handle solo because Syd was witness to everything that occurred with her.

Skye, you were a wonderful kitty. I still wait to hear your soft padding coming down the stairs and your squeak hello. I love you.

The Lesson:

Life, and all it entails - it's joys and sorrows, ebbs and flows. It brings to mind the song by The Byrds:

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time of war, a time of peace
A time of love, a time of hate
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time of peace, I swear it's not too late!

A Few Pics - Update

 October is my favorite month. It is so colorful, and here in Virginia, the humidity is finally gone without too much loss of comfort. The air is crisp and clear, and I get to open up the house on a nearly daily basis. And there are pumpkins everywhere! I adore pumpkins. 

Because of my adoration for the month, as a whole, Steve and I decided that was when we wanted to get married. Here, we're celebrating our 11th anniversary at a park with Snickerdoodle. Steve is truly my best friend and my rock, and I'd be lost without him.

 Another thing that makes October so much fun? Halloween!

We were not big celebrators when I was growing up - for a handful of reasons. But I truly enjoy the innocent Halloween (not the "Do what you can to scare the pants off someone" version...). And that is made even more delightful by the fact that Syd is now old enough to understand certain components. He was terribly ill this year, though, so I contacted our next door neighbors to ensure they would be home (and offered to give them something to give him), but we went directly next door, camera clicking, and then came back home so he wouldn't get chilled. 

Here, Syd and Daddy are "Football Mans!"

 November came in like a personal Lion - October ended with Syd's illnesses, and November came in with me scrambling to catch up - see my previous post. And just as I thought I was catching myself, I got hit by a door at school. Here's the nurse's job at making sure I didn't get blood on anything.

 This is the next day. The stitches are in my eyebrow. The bruise is barely noticeable, especially when my eyes are open. But as with many injuries, the bruise, as it began to dissipate and get absorbed back in, sank. Literally. It began to slide down my eye until I caught some fantastic looks from people in the school and in stores.

It is obviously yellowing - finally starting to go away. This is when I went back in to have stitches removed. The doctor said it will still be noticeable for Thanksgiving, so I'm primarily doing this so Dawn doesn't get a fright when she comes in. :-) I don't feel it at all, though, until I forget it is there.

So, November came in like a lion. I'm hoping that the remainder of 2012 is much more sedate than the past few weeks have been. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and truly take a moment to help out others or reflect on all that you're thankful for. My family will be reuniting in town to visit, laugh, love, and check out my Mother's new home. 

My immediate family will also be "Moving our Feet so Others Can Eat" at the annual Drumstick Dash. There is no better way to be prepared for one or more dinners than to work off some calories before dinner while ensuring the less fortunate are able to get a hot meal, as well. 

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's a Good Thing...

...I called off NaNo 2012. 

Syd got better. It took awhile, but my gloriously wild, active, inventive baby boy is back.

Then, I got sick.

And I had a conference to go to.

And we had Parent/Teacher conferences.

And I was finally on the mend and thinking I would catch up from Syd's illness when I got hit by life.

Literally.

My assistant principal hit me with a metal door. I had to get 3 stitches and have worn a purple shiner for the past week.

So, I'm definitely writing off the novel (bah-dum shhh) this year.

I'll post pictures of Syd, family, and said shiner when I get them transferred from my phone.

Why I'm Bowing Out

Two years ago, I was introduced to NaNoWriMo by a friend of mine. I incorporated the idea into my classes at school, set a goal of 17,000 for my students (and myself, though anyone over the age of 18 is supposed to achieve 50,000 or more), and tried, valiantly, to write while taking care of a 14 month old, teaching and grading, and helping my husband run the house. I failed miserably - I wrote a grand total of 11,000+ words.

Last year, I tried again. I felt good. I left everything pertaining to school at school. My first steps in understanding, fully, that it was ok to do so (after 7 years struggling with that balance). Steve took on most of the household chores and was persistent in pushing me to write. It was a liberating experience, and breath-taking in its allowance of selfishness and loss of inhibition. And I "won." I made my word count goal with a November 30th count of 50,505 words, which allowed me to obtain 5 free bound copies of my manuscript. After the school year ended, I worked diligently for 3 additional days when I still had a full-time babysitter in Steve's grandmother, and finished my book. I published it myself; It still terrifies me to tell people I've done this. Ironic since I blog about it for the world to see, I know. But the fact is, I'm entirely self-conscious about my writing. Regardless, I feel there is some validity to doing things my way.

Still running on the adrenalin of creative juices, I started to plot out this year's NaNo novel, and awaited, anxiously, for November so I could begin.

Then, Life hit. Isn't that why we HAVE NaNo? Because Life hits all the time and we put things off? I recently taught a lesson in school on Langston Hughes' "Dream Deferred," and I use myself and writing as an example. But the truth is, Life can be quite selfish and vindictive at times.

My sister is doing a fantastic job of forcing Life to take a back seat to her dreams. I could not be more proud of her and all she's accomplished. I feel as though, in a way, we're taking these steps together, just on separate, but parallel, paths.

NaNo was my way for forcing Life to pause for a moment so I could do something selfish and for me. I prepared for November by keeping up with assignments at school, updating the grade book more quickly than I think I have my entire teaching career; I made sure to do small things at home to sanitize or straighten to eliminate the need to CLEAN; I multi-tasked - doing laundry and folding while watching tv or pausing in the middle of cooking to sweep, etc., all so I would be more prepared for the month of literary abandon and writing nonstop, and so my guilt at not being absolute Mommy or Teacher or Wife or (fill in the blank) would allow me to write my sequel to my first book.

Enter Hurricane Sandy and Random Nasty Virus. Syd came down with something horrendous right as the entire East Coast tried to prepare for the disaster. We were very lucky. We had the nearly hurricane strength wind (I think we topped off at 68 mph wind gusts - hurricane strength is 74) - we had rain, we had tree limbs down, we flickered with power. We were exceedingly lucky. My preparations were more necessary for the health of my son than for the hurricane, as I would not make it to school the entire week.

I had to leave early Monday to get Syd, who had a fever and just wasn't himself. He would fight that fever, and refrain from eating or drinking, for the next 3 days. Tuesday we were out of school due to the hurricane. Wednesday, Halloween, I called in to stay home with him. Thursday, I had not even made it through one full class before the school called for me to get him. Friday, he managed to make it an entire day. By that point, I was 2 days into NaNo, and hadn't written a word, and was unbelievably behind at school, and was desperate about getting to school to get supplies for a conference I have to go to tomorrow, and was just feeling... deflated.

I wrote Friday night. I am happy I did. But my heart wasn't in it, and I can't know for sure that my heart will return. We're still battling Syd's illness - he's no longer contagious, but the healing process is long. I've done more laundry the past 3 days than I have in one sitting since the entire family came for Thanksgiving and brought the stomach flu with them.

So, as much as I despair to give in, I am bowing out of NaNo 2012. I fully intend to do this again. I loved letting myself go and writing. I will sketch out my ideas for the sequel, and then let the guilt go. I have, instead, a new goal for the month of November - training.

I was doing well training over the summer. At some point in my life, I would love to run some 10Ks, and hopefully, a half marathon. But then I was interrupted by my own illness. By the time I finally determined what path to take for recovery, it was 3 months later, and we were enmeshed in the new school year. So, it is time to refocus. I have a new pair of running shoes that are crying out for a breaking in. And the Drumstick Dash is quickly coming up. If nothing else, I need to be in better shape if I'm going to pull Syd in his new wagon for 3+ miles!