Seven

The most beautiful rose given to me by my teenage son.

It has been seven years since I created this space to document the happenings of our life.  It's been over seven months since I have religiously blogged.  So much happens day to day that I've simply forgotten to come back to the place that was to serve as my children's scrapbook. Our published years are so fun to flip through, recounting the many memories we've made. The kids giggle over pictures of themselves and seem fascinated by the itty bitties they once were. There are three teenagers in the house now. Three. Let that sink in for a second. Then of course, the baby. . .who is by no means a baby any more. Our eight-year-old colors our world pretty with pom poms, unicorns, and slime. I really hate the last one. It absolutely blows me away that this is the life I am priviliged to live day in and day out. There are bad days, sad days, fun days, and days I can't even stay awake later than the teenagers, but they are beautiful days nonetheless. Beautiful simply because they are mine.

It boggles my mind that my presence is simply enough to validate my life. I came late to the stay at home mom role. When Lene mentions me working during her elementary years it pains me just a little bit. At that point I had cut my time in half, but I was still missed at some class parties and volunteering in the classroom. The thing is, I totally get it. I remember feeling that same way when it seemed everyone else's mom helped in the classroom BUT mine. I always wanted what I coudn't have and although my grandparents were great substitutes, it never was the same. Some things will never change, I guess.

For four years I've had the privilige of being home with my kids. The older they've gotten, the harder it seems to get. There are three school drop offs, all at different times. The three pick ups get complicated by the sports each of the three plays depending on the season. After school games and homework followed by a family meal across a dinner table makes for a busy, full life. But still, sometimes, my mind goes to that place of not being enough, not contributing enough, not doing enough with the education I received. Sometimes I look at my two Master's Degrees and wonder if they were a waste. Will I ever use them? Will I even be current when the time comes?  I simply have no idea.

I've been on both sides of the spectrum, and to be frank, each offered valuable gifts that I treasure. As a working mother, I impacted countless lives, I socialized with colleagues, I was in constant motion to continue to learn and grow. On the other hand, as a Mom who is home, I impact the lives in which I was called to be a mother, I socialize with other moms at pick up and at church, and I run a very part time business from home where I educate a handful of kids and work with their parents to help them flourish.   Both sides are debateable as to which is more important. Dare I say, both sides are debateable as to which is most valuable. It's time to let the debate die, people.

If I am equally fulfilled being home with my kids as I am working full time as an educator, then so be it. It's my life to live my truth, and it's okay if we see things differently. We were not made to agree on everything; we were made to be kind. Next time you're having a hot debate regarding working moms and stay at home moms, ask yourself if what you are going to say really needs to be said. If it has been said before, save it. Everyone wants their voices heard, but we all have our own stories to tell. Tell yours proudly and with love. Stay home if you want. Work if you want. Or don't. Your story. You write it.
 

For the Love of. . .

 For the love of all things normal. . .life has been anything but.

I see glimpses of it at the dawn of my day and as I fall into slumber.  But the edges are all blurred and the picture it seems is out of focus.  The joke is on me: my word of the year was focus, remember? God SO has a sense of humor!

And how, in all the craziness that consumes us currently, is it that I would have a brief moment of clarity where I took immediate action to end this thing that I spent seventeen years in the making?

How, at a time when life seems anything but stable did I get brave enough to simply walk away? 

I'm not sure how to answer that yet.

But I did it anyways.  I took a big leap of faith and gave myself permission to admit that the biggest legacy I leave behind is the impact I have on the life of my children.  I admitted that my vision for our family life matters more than the opinions of others.  I took the step that has wanted to be taken for at least the last two years. . .and it feels exhilarating!

I feel full of hope and am resting comfortably in God's plan for me.  It feels so freeing to have released myself from the burden that had become my job. . .to not have to walk the delicate tightrope. I feel full of wonder to see what doors open or what other opportunities are out there when the time is right.  

For the love of all the students I've encountered over the past seventeen years, it was time to press pause. It was time to let go of the dream I once had and begin to dream anew.  There is no time like the present so that is what I intend to do: to laugh, to love, to play, and to be blessed by the memories I have and to dream big dreams for my tomorrows.

God Moments: Past and Present Collide

Last night I was among 399 others to celebrate the retirement of a well loved University teacher.  She is iconic as her thirty-five year service to the University plus her own growing up around the university and all her family that attended there as well.  To me, she was more than a teacher.  Nearly eighteen years ago, I was among her top three candidates to recommend for a teaching position in the district I still work today. She  looked at me and saw potential and promise instead of the barely twenty-one year old that I was.  The problem was I was waiting on math scores for the CBEST.  As my luck would have it, I received the same score two times in a row, which was two points shy of the minimum needed.  That could only happen to me! This third test was going to make or break my ability to enter the teaching position midyear as a result of class size reduction.  This instructor pulled me aside and made me a weekly appointment for the next month.

With math as her minor, I thought the tutoring could be helpful. Little did I know that the next month was really an informal session in her office that involved building me up and getting me to face the math test, not fear it.  She reiterated I had the skill, but I simply had to believe in myself.  On a couple occasions we traded test taking strategies and she may have asked what types of problems I struggle with the most, but I don't remember.  What I remember most is the way she made me feel.  I went into my third test, not fearing my future but embracing the possibilities that existed when I passed this stupid section.  I did pass this time and I went on to teach.  It is there that my teaching life began, and it happened when it did because this professor got me to believe in myself and took time--time she probably didn't really have, but she did it any way.  I needed to be there to honor her for this.

I'm glad my cousin went with me because otherwise the sheer masses would have been intimidating; however, had the night turned out as it did, I would have even gone alone.  Seeing and hearing honor paid to a person who has invested so much of herself to an institution and countless people is incredibly humbling and inspiring at the same time.  While the words and sentiments and stories told were important and treasured, the night ended with a God moment.

I saw a name on the scholarship donors page that jarred a memory of my Masters in Counselling program nearly thirteen or fourteen years ago.  After listening to the impact stories shared about the honoree, I told my cousin I needed to find this other woman and send her a card because this memory specifically was life changing for me.  I have always attested, even if I never use my counselling degree, this single experience alone makes it all worth it!

As God would have it, as we made our way to the back door to express our congratulations (keep in mind 400 people) right beside me was a woman who looked vaguely familiar. As I leaned in to hear her speak, I knew this was the same woman I had just told my cousin about!  I put my arm on her shoulder and she looked at me.  Of course, she didn't recognize me at first, but I began "You probably don't remember me but many years ago when we had to tape ourselves and present them to the class. . .we put our video on and the first question out of Joyce's mouth was "How are you?" and I cried.  The video may have been playing but your eyes were on mine in the circle we sat and tears were dripping down my face already.  I will never forget the way you stopped the video and took my hand, pulling me up. . .where you sat me on your lap and just allowed me to cry. "  Her eyes were filled with tears as she listened to me recount my memory, as were mine because that memory was connected to such a life changing experience and led to the present life I am able to enjoy today.

"I need you to know that single act of compassion and kindness will always be remembered as long as I live. It was one of the most powerful events in my life," I finished.  She hugged me long and hard and whispered words I haven't heard in a really long time: "Every past pain is a part of you, but doesn't have to define you.  Everyone has a story.  You have to be willing to listen and wait for them to share it.  I didn't want to miss yours.  So much greater to be a part of it than to simply miss it because of our agenda."  

I was so  blessed to be able to share this sentiment with this woman who will forever hold a place in my heart.  To thank her, to be hugged by her, to be able to express what that moment meant to me. . .it could have only been orchestrated by our God.

If there is someone who means a lot to you, for whatever the reason: big or small.  Tell them!  She thanked me for the gift I gave her last night by reaching out and reminding her of our moment.  It was so much more powerful with passed years and perspective.  I am so glad I stepped out of my comfort zone and went last night (glad my cousin went with me).  God's plans are always so much greater than our own!!

Lost too Soon to Lung Cancer

This week was a heavy one.  I attended the rosary for a former student.  In seventeen years of teaching, I've encountered over a thousand students easily. . .and when I first heard this student was sick, I knew just who she was.  I could picture her.  Usually, I can recognize some former students by sight--names might or might not come to me--but this one?  I knew who she was.  She was the kind of student you thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated.  She was attentive and well mannered.  She was inquisitive and encouraging. She was quiet and conscientious, actively involved on campus and just an overall good girl.

From what I heard and read, the traits she had while in my eighth grade Language Arts class followed her to the high school.  Of course they did!  She was THAT kind of person:  4.5 gpa, cheerleader, hospital volunteer, aspiring surgeon. . .who at 17-years-old was diagnosed with lung cancer.  Tragic.  It's hard for me to wrap my head around the idea of her suffering and being sick--this girl with such strong work ethic, and pride, such a promising future.  It breaks my heart for her family, and for her friends.  

And it makes me take pause and love on my littles a little longer. Tucking them in at the end of an exhausting day was relished as a gift instead of a chore.  I looked into their eyes and listened when they were talking to me.  We held hands and picked flowers.  We hiked and explored just because we could.  I read aloud a whole chapter a night instead of cutting it short. . .It's amazing how death, especially that of someone so young, can expand your mama heart to look past the drudgery and embrace it all.  It's the realization that another mom a city away is wailing into the night for what used to be normal--and just like that, it's gone. She's gone.

I absolutely positively do not understand how people come through crisis without their faith.  I realized in church Thursday night, as we prayed the rosary aloud in a church filled to capacity, my prayers and my faith in God and the promise of heaven is all that could get me through. Heck, my faith is all I could think of as I walked up the aisle to pay my respect for her family and a constant stream of prayers were uttered silently in my heart for their comfort and healing.  

Lung cancer. Seventeen.  Sandra.  Those words just don't belong together, yet there they are.  And all I can offer is my prayers.  And all I can ask is that you might do the same please.  

2 Corinthians 5:6-8 So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

Third Annual Father's day Camping Trip

We celebrated Father's Day camping style this weekend.  My parents and brothers came out to hang out and relax in the sun.  It was a beautiful weekend for it.  Some of us walked, biked, fished, read, visited, and enjoyed the great outdoors.  We feasted thanks to mom on Friday night.  She never fails to disappoint.  Steak, salad, bread, grilled veggies, bacon wrapped dates, potatoes. A meal for kings.  I'm glad I was camping with the kings because it was sooo good!

As usual, the cousins enjoyed their time together.  It never ceases to amaze me the lack of fighting that occurs.  They were lakeside constantly.  It dawned on me at some point when they were fishing off the side,  that they really are growing up.  Their need for our help was minimal and we no longer provided their sole form of entertainment.  It's a strange turn of events really. 

With my aging papa, either mom or dad would be gone at night to sleep at home with him.  It's disappointing that their plans have to change because of the caregiving. He is the biggest job my mom has ever had and selfishly, it is one I wish she didn't.  She waged her own battle with cancer eight years ago and won. . .I hate the physical side of her caring for papa.  It is not easy work.  He is simply not nearly as able bodied as he used to be.  I often wonder why aging has to be so difficult.  It's like the mind is willing but the body is weak. It would have been great it he could have joined us camping.  Just a year ago he did.  Getting into the RV's is too hard on his knees now.  It's sad.

We were able to meet up with our old neighbor who now lives up at the lake.  His daughter who just graduated joined us.  Some friends came up for dinner and smores Saturday night. . .and a relaxed, fun time was had. 

It seems the older we get, the more we appreciate each other--my brothers.  For a while, there was this gap--blame it on immaturity, jealousy, insecurity--I'm not sure what it was. . .but the gap has closed and there just seemed to be a peaceful existence among us.  The way it should have always been perhaps.  Overall, a great way for a Father to spend his special day--watching the bonds he helped forged, the children he raised coexisting in peace and harmony, truly enjoying each others company.

And then lately, I've been reading this book Anything by Jennie Allen.  I took the summer off from GMG and am finding my groove back with God.  I am finding it had become a little to much like, let me check this off the to do list.  I needed my relationship back and I do believe there has been a shift.  I have also changed my prayer to Lord, I am willing to do anything you ask of me.  Just clearly let your path be known.  And the funniest thing is happening.  He is clearly opening some doors, I just have to decide whether or not to walk through.  Reminds me of Field of Dreams, "If you build it, they will come."  Crazy, crazy, beautiful the way God works if I'm not too caught up in the busy chaos of it and I quiet down and really listen.

Finally, last night I met up with a former student.  He's twenty-six now and he was in my first class of Freshmen.  I remember him fondly and I enjoyed catching up with him.  I love how his life has turned out. I love that he's doing something he is passionate about. I love that he's found love and happiness.  He deserves to have it even if the whole world doesn't entirely agree.  I love that our conversation challenged me and in a sense grew me to talk of our God who is ALL-loving.  I thoroughly enjoy seeing the young men and women my students turn out to become.  He is no exception.  I consider it pure joy, the realization that I had a part in his educational history.  I find it an honor that he chose to spend time with me, unknowingly picked my favorite restaurant and paid the bill.  What a gift last night was.  What a gift he is to this world.

Life is moving at warp speed.  Boot camp on Saturdays, swimming lessons, park play dates.  It feels like June just started and we're already half through it.  I wake up each morning, reconnect with God and seriously ask for patience and self control.  Staying at home day in and day out with the kids is rough.  Teaching others would be so much easier.  Yes, it is difficult to be a  working mother .  I know.  I was one.  But pouring into my kids day in and day out, loving them in spite of their sinful ways, loving the parts of them that I don't like about myself. . .drains me.  Exhausts me. Beats me up.  But it's still my job.  And for now it's a job the Lord is calling me to do.  And I keep praying I will do anything.  For now, they are my anything.  The days are long, but the years are short. . .

Get it Before it's Gone

The decisions we make, make the life we live. . .the decisions we make, make the life we live. . .that sentence has been bombarding my mind since I read it over a week ago.  I found it amidst a devotional that was delivered to my inbox from Lysa Terkurst, an author who is so real and sweet I dragged my mom down to San Diego one night just so we could listen to her speak at a Focus on the Family event.  We spent more time in the car than we did at the event. . .on a school night.  It 's definitely love!

I think the reason it sticks with me is because lately in book club we have discussed how busy we are, and all the demands we interpret as part of our days.  In some ways I have scaled back in an attempt to reclaim our family time in the evenings.  I declined continuing a book club because, no matter how much I like the girls, another weekly, night-time commitment takes time away from the sacred time I want to have with my most loved ones.  We almost said no with Lene doing another play.  We had to physically sit down with the director and express our concerns with the time commitment that was involved in the last show.  We had to set boundaries from the beginning if another show was to be in our family's future, because the reality is this:  her involvement effects our involvement.  This week, we decided not to rush through Holy week like crazy people so we declined a free golf clinic that I had signed up for months ago.  Everyone who knows me knows free is hard to pass up. . .so it was kind of a big deal.  The aha moment for me?  When I cared more about getting there on time Monday than the kids.  Deal was sealed.  We said no.

I have commented on being much busier now that I am primarily a stay-at-home mom.  That is for sure.  But the truth of the matter is, I do have more time in my day to pour into events, organizations, or the kid's classrooms, and truth be told: I enjoy it immensely.

That is not the problem.  The problem rears its ugly head when those commitments effect my family at home.  The problem is seen when I have too much to do on the computer, with meetings, or whatever, that I am not paying attention to my kids and husbands need because I am so centered on the project at hand.  Because let's face it, once upon a time I thought my career defined who I was.  I poured time, energy, and countless hours perfecting my craft of teaching.  It felt good to receive accolades and praise from administrators and colleagues and best of all: students.

 And then I had children of my own. . .

And my world was forever changed...for the better.
I may not ever again be "Teacher of the Year," but I treasure the job title gifted me by God more: Mom.

"The decisions we make, make the life we live." Live well.

“Life moves pretty fast. You don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it”. Ferris - Ferris Bueller’s Day Off 1986

June 8, 2012

The kids begin summer vacation today. . .but I wanted to share our end of the year gifts for their teachers.  I originally found this idea here and pinned it.  It was super easy and I know one of the teachers is a Starbucks connoisseur! I feel very blessed by the teachers our kids had this year.  I'm grateful for all their hard work and the love of learning they instilled in my kids. 

And now the countdown to my summer vacation and new job begins.  One week from today to be exact: )  I. Can. Not. Wait!!!