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.

Summer Success

Summer vacation is terrific -- let's start with that.  No alarm clock in the morning, time with my family, sunshine and poolside and spur-of-the-moment picnics all make summer wonderful.  But, it has some pressure associated with it, too.  Everyone wants summer vacation to be all we have hoped for, to meet all the expectations we place on it as we plow through October and March.  Super busy during the school year, I look to summer as a needed escape, but also a time to catch up on everything I have let slide.  So,I struggle with balancing a healthy dose of relaxation with taking advantage of the extra time summer allows me.  I have so many projects, activities, chores I would like to do, but I also know that I need to enjoy a bit of summer's slower pace and simpler fare.  On days when I spend all my time busy and productive, I feel accomplished, but then I fear the first day of school will arrive and I will not have renewed myself in a way that will allow me to begin teaching from my best place.

To help me with this, I thought a list might work wonders (Doesn't a list almost always make things better?).  If I can look at my growing list of summer successes maybe those feelings of slovenly guilt will subside.  Maybe. Plus, just making the list makes me feel a bit less lazy and a bit more accomplished.  I am curious to see what the list will include once August 9th arrives.  Hopefully, it will make me smile.  And then I will know the summer was perfect.

Last Day of School

On my last day of teaching this school year (remarkably it has been almost two weeks since then!) I received a number of kind, sincere letters from my students.  As I read them, I cried.  And then I wrote:


I'm supposed to be grading papers.  I am supposed to be finalizing grades.  I am supposed to be cleaning my classroom and packing things away for the summer.  Instead, I had to sit down and write.  I had to sit down and share with somebody, anybody, everybody, how incredibly powerful the teaching experience is. 


My classroom is quiet, for what feels like the first time this year, and I have been sitting and reading thank you letters from students.  And when the tears started falling, I knew I had to capture this feeling.


The work I do is the good work. It is work that sometimes feels like not working at all because it is so natural.  It is simply one person guiding another person for a short time as they journey through life.  It is beckoning the child over, holding the hand, sharing anecdotes and wisdom and warnings and praise.And then it is listening.  To what they say, to what they don't. To the music they don't always know their words produce.


And other days it is the work of mules and oxen. It is the harvest.  It is pushing from behind, pulling from the front, leading by example and digging in my heels.  I try on those days not to let the strain show.  I try to still hold the hands, listen and encourage.  Not only for them, but for me.




I would be lying if I said I do it all for them.  I want such wonderful lives for them; I want them to be reflective and kind, thoughtful and giving, bright and resourceful.  But, I also do it for me.  I do it because it brings me unspeakable joy.


 So, today, as I read the most poignant words from the special students I have been blessed to call mine, I feel undeserving.  How could they be so sweet and so appreciative and so affected by someone who is just doing what brings her joy?

I will definitely enjoy my summer, a little more sleep and lots more time with my boys and my husband.  But I also love summer because it gives me more time for thinking and reflecting and filling my head and heart back up so I have even more to give when school begins again in August.   Can't wait!

The Summer in Pictures

A last look at Summer 2010... (click on any picture to see a slideshow of them all)

The boys loved Kids Kamp: Saddle Ridge Ranch

We had a wonderful time at the Salvadore home for the 4th

Toy Story 3 was the best!

Lucas playing in the sandbox

The water is so cold!!

Lucas and Michael wait to go into the dinosaur museum

The boys prepare to embark on their Etiwanda hike

Nicholas loves his Starbucks chocolate milk

Look at that face!

Brothers reunited after Michael's trip to Oregon

We are going to miss our mornings at the pool

Mondays were Library Days -- so many books read this summer!

If we weren't at the pool, we were at the park

Vacation's almost over -- maybe we need to rest

I Once Was a Mermaid...

The summers of my youth were seasons of imagination and belonging.  I remember playing mermaid in my Aunt Joyce's pool -- the submerged lights would color the water a sea green as we constructed elaborate tales of mermaid life.  We'd swim until the sky had turned Egyptian blue and our fingers were wrinkled as raisins.  I remember sleepovers when we would giggle into our pillows and whisper too loud, too late.  All through June and July we would sprint through front-yard sprinklers, play hide-and-go seek in the dark, catch gutter snakes at Grandma's house.  We'd find sanctuary in the station wagon during fireworks on the 4th, and on rare but wonderful occasions, hail down the ice cream truck to buy Bomb Pops and Big Sticks for a quarter.

The "we" of my summer memories is not only my two brothers and me, but also my cousins. Summer was when we could spend the most time together, free from the school schedule, free to be completely ourselves.  

Now, as I watch my sons play with their cousins, the sweetness of summers past comes back to me.  How quickly it seems we left our games behind.  How easily we let the August nights, bathed in starlight and thick with the day's heat, lose their magic.  The rest of the year, cousins were usually relegated to weekends and birthday parties, but in the summer, any day held the possibility of the ideal in playmate -- part friend, part sibling --  the connection of family, but the novelty of an outsider .  I know we had moments of irritation, times when we would bicker or be ugly to each other, but we always knew that in the end, we were loved.  Summertime with my cousins was like salve on a small wound I didn't know I had.  Even remembering it now heals parts of me I didn't know were hurting.


I do not keep in touch with my cousins as well as I should.  None of them even live in the same state as me, which makes staying close even more difficult. However, my oldest son will be taking a trip with my mom to visit with this part of my family (and celebrate my grandpa's 80th birthday!) later this week.  I wish I could be there to share in the moment, but it feels good to know I am sending my son to spend time with people who already love him.  I am learning more and more each day that this is what a family must do if it wants to stay together -- already love each other.  Before my boys arrive for an afternoon of swimming with their cousins, they already love each other.  Even though experience has told us that at some point in the day, they will yell  or cry because of what one of them says to the other, they begin their time together already loving.  And by the time the day ends, they are already loving again.  They are not afraid of the fights; they yearn for the togetherness.

I don't often wish to return to childhood, but if I did get to go back, today I think I would pick the longest day of summer and I would spend it as a mermaid, a hider, a seeker, a popsicle-eater, a snake catcher, and a moonbather -- and I'd want all my cousins there with me.

Chili Fries & Chilly Thighs

This summer, we knew that we would not be taking a big Griswold-style family vacation.  But we wanted to infuse some enthusiasm into our summer break, have something to look forward to other than heat and laziness.  We decided on Thrilling Thursdays -- a mini-adventure each Thursday to embark upon as a family, low-cost or no-cost excursions meant to be fun and maybe even educational.  We eased into the summer with the boys creating summer collages and letters that shared what they hoped summer would include.  Since then, we have visited a dinosaur museum, started Kids Kamp, went to the movies to see Toy Story 3 (the first movie theater experience for Lucas!), and hiked into the foothills of our hometown.

This week when Thrilling Thursday arrived, we had not planned our weekly activity.  But it was Thursday, and so the Thrilling was a must. The weather limited our options -- over 100 degrees eliminates strenuous outdoor activity and any indoor activities were likely going to be a) crowded or b) expensive.   In the end, we drove the boys to the nearest AM/PM and bought them each a huge Icee (at only a buck each!), then stopped by the grocery store and gathered the fixings for a junk-food-delight of a lunch -- corn dogs and chili fries.  On the way home, Lucas put his Icee between his knees to hold the big cup steady.  When I let him out of his car seat, my fingers felt the frozen flesh of his little legs.  He and his brothers giggled as I snapped my hand away with feigned shock.  We decided that this Thrilling Thursday had its own name:  Chili Fries and Chilly Thighs!

After a sinful, satisfying lunch, we napped.  Then Daddy and the boys spent hours playing video games together and we finished the evening off with the lowest form of television entertainment, but some of the best family bonding we've had -- Wipeout.  Nothing makes men and boys laugh as hard as someone being pummeled by padded equipment.  Okay, I laugh a little, too!

Thrilling Thursday this week was fun and educational, even, I have to admit, without any advance planning on my part.  I learned that the specialness of our time together does not come from the activity we are doing as much as from our attitude about being together. We loved Chili Fries & Chilly Thighs day.  Somehow, giving it a catchy name and giving ourselves over to the silliness of it all made for a day we will remember as, if not thrilling, definitely fulfilling.