the mud

I can't remember a time not wanting to be a mother, so when your kids are grown and they begin to show you they might not need you as much, or tell you they don't need you, or worse, tell you they don't want you anymore, it's a little bruising. And then we ship them away! And we have to be tough and strong and act like it doesn't hurt. It makes no sense. But here we are. And so today we are packing a whole 18 years into bins and boxes and tucking in our hearts and getting her ready to leave. But guess what happened right in the middle of it all? (I need to tone it down here a little, I sound enthusiastic, but I'm not Really enthusiastic...) Annie tripped on the steps and hurt her shin - you know one of those scrapes that doesn't bleed but hurts like a mother. And so I got to be The Mom. I elevated her leg (and she let me) and got her ice and then I let her lick the bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough! And then she let me take her picture! (After she asked me

Turning 50 was not as traumatic as I expected. I am really not upset about the wrinkles, all earned and deserved. Some laugh lines, some cry lines, some from maybe a little too much sun. I was the generation that drenched our skin with baby oil to tan. We just didn't know. An SPF of 2 or 4 or 6 was considered pretty healthy. As for the laugh lines, as Martina McBride says, "Every laugh line on your face, made you who you are today!" so I can't begrudge those. As for the cry lines, I learned lessons from every one and those have taught me compassion, so I can't trade those in. What concerns me about my age and my face is the R.B.F. - resting b**** face. If I were to get botox, it would be simply to eliminate the '11' between my eyebrows. After 23 years of teaching, I have acquired an official Teacher Look, one that comes in pretty handy. I don't even need to say anything to the Mischievous Ones, I just give them the Look. But the look comes at a pri

I can't believe my second child is off to college this fall. Every time I see a young a family, I find myself saying, "Enjoy it!" even though I know those words fell on deaf ears when I heard them, oh about 5 minutes ago. But still, I am trying to enjoy it. I am trying to enjoy even this stage of college and not-quite-out-of-the-house-yet. My daughter insisted last week that she could just drive herself to a surgical procedure, "I AM 18, mom!" Yes, you are. And I'm going to enjoy even that remark! A few weeks ago I accompanied her to college orientation. It was so wonderful being on a college campus and going to 'classes'. Even thought she's my second, I still needed orientation in a big way. One thing they reminded us as parents was about counseling services. "Everyone needs a boost now and then," they said, "That's what we're here for." It was so reassuring. I didn't even know I needed to hear that, but I did. I

There is a meme for teachers that reads, "Teachers Aren't on Summer Vacation, They are in Recovery." While that is certainly true on many levels, teachers are also reflective. We are out of school, but school's not out of us yet. We look back and wonder, did they learn everything? Did I leave a lasting impression? Did it work? Did we succeed? Did we fail? It is hard work being a teacher and with summer here, we can breathe and take account of all that happened. But I won't go on about that. I'd probably bore you to death with word wall philosophies and kidney versus horseshoe tables and time enough for recess and time enough for math and math centers and reading centers. I just want to share some of the funnier moments that stand out.  Toward the end of the year, I found an old writing tablet that was titled "Cursive Writing Tablet." I was clearing out and thought the boys could use it for drawings and things. It sat on the writing table and the boy

Letting Go. Let it go. Let go. I have heard it a thousand times. It's not easy. I know that. But past grievances - yes. I'm willing to let them go. Forgive and forget. Sure. Sign me up. It's a Disney mantra. My first graders know it better than I do. Let it go. Let. It. Go. Now Marie Kondo has made an empire out of it - complete with a television series. That includes psychological counseling! Everyone on the show cries. Let it go. I've tried it and failed. I've tried it and succeeded. I let go of a million things in our house. Clothes first. Books. Paper. Kitchen. I haven't gotten to the last one. Still. I've done my share. I've moved on from past hurts and past pain and past friendships and past pasts. But that was the easy part. The letting go part of motherhood is not so easy. I do not know if I can let go of my kids. My son went off to college two years ago. I handled it. A mother in the parking lot who was directing us where to go told me everyth