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.

What Days This Summer Taste Like

Do you ever have those moments when you wish you could snap your fingers and instantly record exactly what was happening?  I had two of those this week and I have to write them down before they become part of the blur that characterizes my child-rearing years.

The first moment involved Nicholas, my middle son.  I wrote last summer about his reluctance to swim and the breakthrough he had when he finally learned to dunk his head under the water and swim with a flotation device.  Due to a relatively cool June, our pool time hasn't been very consistent, but the last couple of weeks have given us the chance to get into our morning pool ritual.  After a few days, Nicholas asked me, "Why can't I swim yet?" I reminded him that he had refused for the last two summers to allow me to teach him.  "Are you ready to learn now?" I asked.  He definitely was.  After a few minutes practicing kicks at the side of the pool and reminding him to make his arms like big spaghetti spoons, he was ready to try.  He pushed off from the pool's steps, and with that, he was swimming!  Just a few feet at first, but by the end of the hour, he was really getting the hang of it.  Only three days later, he is jumping into the deep end and swimming to the sides all on his own. He still needs to keep practicing and improving, but he is now a swimmer.  On that first day, he looked at me with his wet, shaggy hair falling across his eyes and a smile that could not get any wider and said, "I am so proud of myself!"  My heart must have tripled in size. After years of watching him wrestle with the desire to dive in and the fear that held him back, I couldn't help but have a few tears fall as he reveled in his success.

The second moment this week happened just a couple of hours ago.  I was reading to the boys from Because of Winn-Dixie by Katie DiCamillo, a book none of us has read before.  We haven't even seen the movie, so each night's reading is a fresh experience for all of us.  After a few chapters, particularly sorrow-filled chapters, I finished up and went to kiss my oldest son good night.  He said, "Mom, I think I might be too sad to fall asleep."  It isn't out of character for Michael to be strongly impacted by the situations in a book or movie; in fact, it happens regularly, but tonight, I asked him, "Do you know why it is good for us to read stories even though they make us sad?"  He shook his head and I continued, "Because when we read what other people go through, even thought it is hard and might make us sad, it makes us better able to love people in real life because we understand them better.  Reading stories that make us feel helps us be better people.  Does that make sense?" He understood and we chatted in whispers a bit more about how books do this.  Michael is a challenging boy, but his heart is about as tender as it could be.  I told him that if we keep reading books together, the things he struggles with will become easier to control.  That boy's sleepy eyes and soft smile made me want to lay down right next to him so we could fall into dreams together.  Alas, laundry beckoned and so I sang him a requested lullaby, turned out the lights and left the room where my three boys lay fast asleep.

Funny how the chapters we read in Because of Winn-Dixie tonight were the ones about the candy made with sweetness and sorrow.  Root beer, strawberry and melancholy all swirled together-- I know exactly what that tastes like.

PS: I didn't mean to ignore Lucas in this post; I'm sure I will share a story about his antics/poignant moments this summer soon!

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!