Sometimes We Have to Stretch (SOLSC Day 7)

There are nights when I wish my arms could hold all my boys at the same time. Instead, I end up feeling too small to be a momma. I can't protect my guys from all bad things, I know that. But tonight I needed to protect them from a good thing. Two of the boys and my husband are involved with Kung Fu and tonight, the younger if the two sons earned a sash higher than his older brother. I know I am not the only parent who has faced this, but until now, the family hierarchy had never been upset and although eventually all was fine, it was a challenge to balance enjoying one son's elation while mending the other son's wounded pride. Since my arms aren't long enough to hold them all together and love them so hard that they have to let go of any negative feelings, instead I had to hold them each on their own and whisper whatever they needed to hear: "Work hard and you will reach your goals," "I am so proud of you!" "I love you no matter what," "You are lucky to have your brother," "Thank you for being kind," and "I am always here for you." Until my arms grow, my words will have to do.

Fries With That (SOLSC -- Day 6)

Tonight I took my sons out to eat after my middle son, Nicholas, completed his Kung Fu testing with a terrific performance. We just went to a fast food place and we had items on the value menu, so it was not a lavish excursion. But they loved it, especially the cookies (which at this particular restaurant are amazing)!And even more than the pseudo-50s decor, or the cheap, delicious burgers, the boys loved the comment cards left at each table. They read each question aloud and conferred about the right answer. They even wrote in their own comments about the deliciousness of those fabulous cookies.

Looking at their three blonde heads hovering over the card, I was reminded that we all want to have a voice -- even if it's just about fast food-- and I am glad the boys used theirs.

Saying Goodbye

Summer vacation was nothing like I thought it would be and exactly what I needed it to be. At the start, I told my husband all about these great plans I had made, the daily schedule I had devised, and all I wanted to accomplish. I even had a little acronym I wanted to use as a "title" for our summer adventures. And then, I didn't do any of it. No schedule, no accomplishment, no acronym. I have to say, it was lovely. The boys and I spent hour upon hour at the pool -- beginning most of our days there and not getting properly dressed until lunchtime. We didn't rush anywhere, we didn't pack anything, and the only schedule came from the fact that the pool opened at 8, so we knew we had to wait until then to arrive. I learned amazing things about my sons, about how their minds and hearts work. Without the demands of the school year, we were free to talk, listen, and wonder together. I watched them play together, fight together and grow even closer to each other. Of course, they had their daily hourly skirmishes and there were a number of days when I thought the top of my head might actually combust in an outward display of my frustration, but those times were worth it for the moments of magic. Diving into the deep end, sprinting through the sprinklers, pizza picnics in the park and the last hours of the evening cuddled together reading books that made us cry -- we spent those long unplanned, unnamed days in love.

Now it is time for backpacks and notebooks. Lesson plans and lunchbags. I'm glad. Too much time away makes me antsy; relaxation begins to feel like laziness. I like thinking and planning and doing. But. We are two weeks into our school year, the boys and me both, and while we are adjusting well, I think we are all having a more difficult time time saying goodbye to summer this year. Or maybe, we are having a hard time saying goodbye to each other.

#Poemaday 3: Above the Rain, I Hear It

Today's Bud the Teacher prompt was a picture only.  I found that more difficult than the others.  Or maybe it was that I was trying to write while my boys wrestled, played video games, argued, laughed and screamed (concurrently).

Above the Rain, I Hear It

I live my life to the song of boys

a song whose lilts and twirls are balanced by the blue notes

a song of short sleeves, baseball caps, faded jeans

a song that stills my heart and moves my feet forward.

No matter the road

the baggage

the weather

I will always be serenaded and sunshined

by the boys’ song.

Pie, Paychecks & Possibilities

My friend and colleague, Darcy, never fails to get me thinking.  When she stops by my classroom at lunch, she always has something to share -- an engaging story from NPR or a personal tale of some oddity or an anecdote about her daughter and on the best days her gift of inspiring ideas is accompanied by a delicious treat -- a baby pie, ribs, her amazing potato salad.

Yesterday, we talked about the balance between urging our children toward success and allowing them freedom to explore, think, and discover on their own.  She had been in a conversation with another friend about the concept of allowance and she questioned the practice of paying a child for doing chores or specific task.  While this teaches children that they will be rewarded for what they do well, the reward is monetary.  Her fear is that we then teach our children to be employees, and even worse, employees who will only do something if there is personal benefit to them.  What do we want to do? she asked.  Do we want to raise our kids to be employees or do we want to raise them to be independent thinkers, fueled by intrinsic motivation, empathy and self-respect?

Darcy doesn't bring me pie to get pie in return (she knows what a challenged cook I am!) She doesn't bring me pies so that I will pay her for them. She brings me pie because she likes me and she talks about interesting things with me so that both of us can grow, consider and think.

So the question has been rattling around: What am I raising my sons to be?

Only their best, I hope.

A Good Laugh

The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.  ~e.e. cummings

 
It has permeated every part of my day.

Nicholas and I laughed playing his Finger Football game; he tried to flick the football through the goalposts (my fingers) and ended up flinging his whole body and still missing the field goal.  

 

We laughed on the playground as he and Lucas took on the tire swing for the first time.  I sent them into circles and loved hearing the laughter flying out of them as they spun.  We laughed over and over again at Lucas each time he came down the slide and his hair stood up on end as if he had been lightning-struck. We laughed again when we got home and looked at the pictures and video from the park and Chad and I laughed when Lucas exclaimed, "That was some good picture lookin'!"

We watched what may be one of the cheesiest sequels ever (Ghostbusters II) and in addition to chuckling at the strange goings-on in the film, couldn't help but laugh when Michael asked in the most serious way, "Dad, is this a good movie?"  Lucas made his brothers and I laugh as he did his own rendition of the Ghostbusters theme with a spiffy little dance to go with it. 

Lucas and I burst out laughing in unison when he went to give Daddy a kiss goodnight and Daddy's mouth was dripping milk and cereal from a too-big bite.

I have to admit the night even came to a close with laughter over a series of those bodily noises (from the kids, not me!) that seem to send every boy into uncontrollable giggling.

As I write, I can hear the laughter from the day spinning in my mind, like my boys upon that tire swing -- a beautiful, layered symphony of joyful sounds.

Yesterday I worried I had not done enough with my time off; today I realized that "productive" can come in many forms and I think I like today's form the best.

I Need a Pause Button

My Spring Break is coming to a close and I am not sure how I feel.  One part of me wishes I had done more, accomplished something substantial, completed a project -- anything I could point to and say, "That's what I did with my time." Another part of me longs for even more time to do very little, to sit and watch silly sitcoms with my boys, hear their wild stories, watch them dance their goofy dances.  And there is even another part (albeit, a very small part) that wants to be back at school because it uses parts of my brain that get mushy even after only a few days off.


When Spring Break started I thought that as a teacher I am lucky because I get to feel that excitement of Spring Break nearing, that anticipation of a week of frivolity.  Most people leave the joys of Spring Break behind as they enter the world of adulthood.  But tonight I don't feel so much lucky as I do conflicted.  It is always near the ends of these breaks when I have these fantasies of taking my family off to some remote small town in the middle America, spending our days working a farm, taking long bike rides and preparing impromptu picnics while our nights are filled with reading aloud to one another from great books and maybe singing together while one of us plays an acoustic guitar.

And then I remind myself that true happiness comes from finding satisfaction not only in the pursuit of dreams, but also in the delights of the present moment -- my four year old's head on my knee, an extra hour of sleep in the morning, nowhere to be tomorrow.

Couch & Carpet Camp-out

Camp-out. For many people that might mean setting a tent up in some remote location or perhaps even their own backyard. For us, it just means the three boys sleep out in the living room instead of their own room. I'm not sure what is so exciting about this change of venue, but the boys definitely love it.

We began the night with a hearty dinner of hot dogs and French fries. After showers, the boys set up their makeshift beds and settled in for viewing of the cinematic classic, Alvin & the Chipmunks, accompanied by the gourmet treat, popcorn and M&M's.

We had plans for Moonpie Ice Cream and maybe another movie, but it doesn't look like they are going to make it to nine o'clock.

I remember that about childhood -- simple delights and big dreams that drift between day and night.

I Could Go for a Slice

Ever since we started the Slice Challenge ten days ago, I have had pizza on the brain.  Throughout the day I remind myself, "Remember that for tonight's slice."  My husband asks when evening rolls around, "Have you finished your slice?"  I share with a fellow writer, "I enjoyed your slice!"  And each time, I want to complete those sentences and thoughts with "of pizza" or sometimes "of cake,"  but most of the time, it's pizza.

So tonight's dinner?  Pizza.  It had to be.  And believe me, the boys were more than happy to accommodate my craving.  Of course, the big problem that arises when ordering pizza is choosing toppings that everyone wants.  We typically go with a something from the meat family --bacon, ham, sausage, pepperoni -- sometimes all of the above. Occasionally I can convince my guys to allow some pineapple to be tossed on, but any vegetable has been strictly forbidden.  Until tonight. 

My husband is away this evening, so that was one opinion less I had to consider and meat-lover that he is, I knew my chances of success were improved without his influence.  It was the perfect opportunity for a coup.  Tonight, we would have vegetables on pizza.

When the delivery man arrived, the boys beat me to the front door.  Eager is an understatement.  After my four-year old quizzed the man -- "Hey!  How did you know we wanted pizza??" --we got the pizzas out and I served the slices.  Immediately, "I don't like olives!"  "What's this thing on my pizza?"  "Why are the tomatoes on top of the cheese?"

"Look, guys," I reasoned, "Just try it.  Things taste different on pizza." And then, the last, desperate attempt, "Pizza makes everything better."

And wouldn't you know, they believed me.


Any guesses on what kind of slice might be on the menu tomorrow?

Merry Christmas!

 

A Cave of One's Own

My husband informed me that he has come to a conclusion: "Women don't like men very much. And the worst part," he says, "is that they see nothing wrong with it." Lest you fear that this revelation might have come as the result of some action on my part, let me assure you the comment was not made in connection with anything I have done.  Actually, we were discussing the recent coinage of a new term -- the mom cave.  HomeGoods and designer Elaine Griffin have developed the concept of a mom cave -- a place for mom to sit, store items, work and visit.  I had first heard the term on the Thrifty Decor Chick blog and then again this morning as the DJs (one male, one female) argued about whether mom caves are really a need.  Funny that the male DJ and my husband had very similar reactions -- women can't let guys have man caves without stealing the concept for themselves?

Now, as a proud graduate of a women's college and a longtime feminist, I understand that this reaction is, to a degree, ironic.  I mean, how many things have men over the centuries parlayed for their own without allowing women to have a share?  However, as the mother of three boys, sister of two brothers and teacher to hundreds of young men (and women) over the last fourteen years, I see where the guys are coming from and I wonder about the expectations the world has for them.

Modern sit-coms seem hell-bent on presenting the man as an insensitive, backward doof while his too-good-for-him-ever-to-get-in-real-life wife belittles, mocks and patronizes him.  In the end we are supposed to see that she is justified, but because of love, they forgive and forget and we are then ready for the next episode which will once again reveal her superiority. 


Recently, I was speaking with a parent at school about her two sons.  Our conversation turned to the raising of boys and how boys were fitting in (or rather not fitting in) to the academic and leadership programs at the high school.  This doesn't mean boys are absent from leadership or silent in the classroom, but what we have observed is that they are more often than not perfectly willing to allow the girls to take charge of whatever task must be completed. Even my own eight-year old confided to me tonight that girls can be "rude and mean" and that in his table group at school, he and his buddy have no idea how these "crazy girls think" so they just try to stay out of their way.

So, as a teacher, how do I work toward allowing both boys and girls to feel valued and capable?  Not all of their learning needs are necessarily determined by gender, but  am I doing anything to encourage both genders to move away from what is so common now -- the girls in a group running the show and the guys being the cut-ups and tagalongs?  And in my own life, are my sons getting what they need to be confident contributors while demonstrating a degree of chivalry and humility as well?  Am I careful to consider my husband's feelings, cognizant of his desire to be a leader in the family, but also able to maintain my own sense of identity and worth?

I know one thing -- if my husband wants a man cave, I won't complain a bit.  And I won't try to counter his space with a mom cave of my own.  Besides, isn't that what the salon is for?

 

(PS: No matter how these two guys feel about girls in general, I am pretty sure they are crazy about me!)

Eudaemonia #3

Trick-or-Treating with the Chipmunks

Has Anyone Seen My Pom-Poms?

This year, our boys have made their first forays into the world of organized sports. What will come as probably no surprise is that I have absolutely no experience in this world other than being an enthusiastic and sometimes knowledgeable fan.  Michael started us off with baseball in the spring and Nicholas is now well into his first season of flag football.  He had to sign up way back in May, so waiting all the way until September to begin felt like forever to him.  He was literally counting the days until his first practice.  And now, each day begins by determining how many more days until the next practice or the next game.  He practically has his game schedule memorized!

Of course, I worry a bit.  Will he get hurt?  Will he keep up with the other boys?  Will the coach give him a fair shot at the high profile positions?  He is only six and, like any momma, I want to protect him.  But it is easy to put those worries aside when I see him with that football in his hand.  When he says to me, "Mom, I am going to warm up with my teammates."  When he re-enacts his best moments from practice for the rest of the family.  It is easier to let go of those concerns pulling at the edges of my heart when those moments happen, when the joy on his face cuts those weights loose and lets my heart fly.

What is so exciting about being a mom and a wife is watching my husband and sons discover what they love.  And while we may influence each other, ultimately, each finds his own passion.  For Nicholas right now, it is football.  For Michael, it is books and video games.  Lucas is a bit young, but I see that sparkle in his eye when Zoboomafoo comes on TV.  And for my husband, the passion of the moment is his Disneyland blog.  He asks if I think it is silly for him to be working on a venture like this, and I reassure him that pursuing our interests, using our gifts and finding happiness in the experience of learning and growing, isn't silly at all.  In fact, those are exactly the most wonderful parts of teaching, which I have long known is what I love.

Since school began in August, I have received email or a personal visit from no less than 20 former students.  Hearing about how they are moving forward, about the experiences shaping them and about the opportunities coming their way fills me with even more motivation to be the best teacher I can for the students I currently have.  They need as many voices as possible on their own personal sidelines encouraging them, and I want to be one of those voices.  (I never made cheerleader in high school, but I always suspected it was more due to my lack of athletic skill than the need for a more encouraging spirit!)

In my home, the voice on the sidelines that needs to be loudest is mine. I want others to join me as we cheer them on, but I want my husband and my boys to know that seeing them do what they love brings me the most incredible pleasure and I will always support their pursuits. I am eager to see what new discoveries my family will experience and which will capture their hearts.  They have certainly captured mine and I look forward to being, if not their most nimble, certainly their most ardent cheerleader!

Swimming Lessons & I'm the One Who's Learning

For the boys, summer's greatest pleasure is time in the pool.  Splashing and screaming, they spend hours in the water.  Michael learned to swim two years ago when two of my students (sweet, talented young men!) were willing to give him lessons.  After only three lessons, he was ready to take on the deep end.  This summer, he took his first jumps off of a diving board, and is thrilled at his new cannonballing skills. With just a little guidance, plenty of encouragement and a solid confidence in his abilities, Michael has made steady progress and I expect that progress to continue.

Lucas is my daredevil.  Last summer, he would jump from the side of the pool into the water without holding on to me.  He loved going under and trusted that I would be there to scoop him up and lift him to the surface.  This year he has been a bit more cautious, but has progressed to dunking himself under the water and jumping into the pool in areas where he can reach the bottom.  He wants to keep up with the older boys, so he is willing to try anything once and I am hoping to have him doing some independent swimming by the end of the summer.  For Lucas, youthful exuberance has cooled a degree or two, but with his brothers and other kids having so much fun around him, he is willing to trust me and challenge himself each time we are in the pool.

Nicholas has had the opposite experience.  He loves the water and being in the pool, but an incident two years ago -- he went a few steps too far in a friend's pool and ended up going under for a moment until I "rescued" him -- had left him very reluctant.  In fact, he has been terrified of learning to swim ever since.  All summer I have been trying to encourage him to take small steps -- put his face in the water, jump into the shallow end of the pool, use a kickboard to get across the pool - to almost no avail.  His fears were so great that he he was completely illogical about the risks associated with the tasks I was asking him to complete.  He wanted to be in the pool, but his fear has kept him from fully engaging in the experience and so his growth has been minimal.

Watching my boys in the pool this summer has made me think about the students in my classroom.  They are all in the pool, but how is each one feeling about the challenges that lie ahead?  Who needs some basic guidance and support and will then be confident enough to push himself further with expectations of success?  Who is trusting and willing to grow, but really just wants to be able to keep up with the other guys? And who has had some experience in the past that may be keeping him from trusting and trying?

On Independence Day, Nicholas had a breakthrough.  In the same pool he had the scare in which caused his fears of swimming, he began going under the water on his own and using a float to practice his swimming kicks.  The pride on his face made my heart shoot skyward and nearly explode.  All of my cajoling, my promises of keeping him safe, my bribery tactics had not worked. What he needed was time to find the right moment. He told me later that being in a pool with deeper water gave him room to try something new.  Also, he said that he wanted to see how happy I would be when he accomplished  these new skills.

Even though my students are in the pool, they are certainly not all having the same feelings about being there, even if they seem to be enjoying themselves.  I have to be what each of them requires for their growth to occur.  I need to be trustworthy and encouraging.  I need to give guidance to those who are ready and space to try new things to those who need it. Most importantly, I need to be patient, I need to believe in all of them and I need to show sincere joy in their accomplishments. Yes, this is challenging and exhausting, but boy the fireworks that go off when a student experiences real learning!!  Summer's greatest pleasure for my sons has prepared for some of my greatest pleasure as a teacher -- I am sure of it!

  

Tarantino and Chivalry

On more than one occasion, I have relayed to my students that I was not a girl who received much attention from boys in high school. This topic often arises during College Week at my school which is a time when teachers share about their college experiences with their students.  Inevitably, I recount the numerous times in college when guys would literally elbow me out of the way so that they could speak to my roommate.  High school had been no better and I am quite confident that I spent many an evening wishing for more attention from the opposite sex. I longed for romance.

Now, in my house full of men, I realize the old adage, "Be careful what you wish for!" is true.  It is not uncommon when I arrive home in the evenings for all three of my sons to overwhelm me with hugs and kisses.  Another familiar sight in our home is me in our over-sized chair with each boy sitting on or sidled up next to me.  Combine the affection of my boys with the advances (welcomed, of course!) of my husband and it is clear that I am no longer undernourished when it comes to male attention.  When people ask me if I hope to add a baby girl to the family (and of course I would!) a part of me is saddened by even the most remote chance that I may not always be the only girl in my family.  Not only that, but I am really into raising my boys,  and keeping in mind that I am raising future men, men who someday will have relationships and need to know how to treat women. 

While I consider myself a feminist, I still believe that chivalry is a quality we should develop in our boys.  This may come in actions we readily associate with chivalry, such as carrying a girl's books to class. This rarely occurs anymore -- which given the size of textbooks and the 7-minutes-only passing period -- I can sort of understand.  But I see young women all the time carrying heavy boxes or moving large furniture without guys stepping up to help.  I want to teach my boys to be the ones who notice when a girl has her hands full and I want them to be the ones who take her books, or the box, out of her hands.  When someone does that for me, it makes me feel good, safe, and special.  That's how I want my boys to make girls feel.

Chivalry can come in other forms as well.  Recently, my husband and I were watching a Tarantino film together.  We are Tarantino fans, especially appreciative of his use of dialoue and music.  But with any Tarantino flick comes the violence.  Usually, I can brace myself for that and even see the artistic purpose and value.  However, on this particular night I was tired and a bit edgy.  As the first violent scene of the movie began, I turned away and looked at the back wall.  I stayed like that until I was sure all of the gunshots and massive injuries were over.  Though I would have continued to watch the movie, my husband could see how agitated I was.  And even though he really likes to be able to watch movies together, and we had been waiting months to watch this one, and he had been planning all day for us to have a movie night together -- he stopped the film.  "Maybe you could blog tonight," he suggested.  He was not upset or irritated, he was being protective of me and my emotional state.  He was taking the box from my arms, giving me time to be alone and time to think and create.  My heart fluttered. 

This is romance.