Coming Home

I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve written that I should probably introduce myself again.  I’ve had millions of possible posts half-written in the insanity that is my mind, and yet somewhere between thinking so eloquently, reflectively and sometimes philosophically and getting it to flow through me and spring forth as actual words has been quite a challenge as of late.

Admittedly, I have been in what I’ll call a “funk” for the past couple of weeks.  Spending my entire day with students who may or may not give a rip that I spent 4 hours categorizing my bookshelves to make them more user-friendly or fighting with the copier for 45 minutes on a Sunday night doesn’t provide the most rewarding experiences.  Add that to the fact that I I’ve entered a new age bracket, which wasn’t really a spectacular celebration, and I’m hyper-emotional being nearly 6 months pregnant, and I hope you’ll understand my absence.  Instead of seeing the glass half-full I’ve been much more inclined to find it completely empty, and trying to “fill it” with empty words and posed pictures seemed trite.

So, on those happy notes, I’m am at least pleased to report that lately, things are looking up.  I’ve had a few days where I’ve seen small successes with students and felt validated in the methods I’m using in class.  I’ve had engaging conversations with new friends, colleagues, and family.  I’ve been bombarded by baby kicks and rolls and happily enjoying Calder as we spent last week combining work, play and rest on our much-needed spring break.

In some ways, my most and least favorite part of a trip is that familiar trip that ends at our front door.  That moment between turning off the car and opening the door is filled with relief that we’re safely back home, and a almost-tangible twinge of regret that our time away has come to an end.  Walking in and looking around, things look oddly different and yet startingly the same.  Even here, as I type, I’m surprised by the changes that have taken place in my absence…yet it feels good to be back among the writing.

So the few of you who are out there reading, please know that I’m back.  Slowly, but surely I’ll find that groove once again and happily share the ups (and downs) with those who are interested enough to stop by.

A swing and a miss

I was pretty optimistic about presenting digital stories to my 7th grade students.  I thought for sure they would think they’re pretty sweet and motivate them to put forth more than minimal effort.

One class of 7th graders engaged in a great conversation with me on Friday and they seemed on board.  They had ideas for how to make it fair to folks to different genres or writing, possible ways to circumvent the lack of technology issue, etc.  They’re the only class choosing to do this project.

I really hope that it goes well, and that all parties concerned have fun (and LEARN) throughout the process.  It seems like it’s getting harder and harder to keep these kids motivated or excited about a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g.  As if the job wasn’t hard enough…

The Creative Version

When I sat down to write our annual Christmas letter, I got the itch to do something a little different.  So I carefully crafted a poem that chronicled our adventures this year.  When I proposed both versions to G. he preferred the traditional letter.  I agree there’s a lot left unsaid in the poem version, but I still wanted to put it out there.  I do know that I have a handful of people still waiting for their card (I’ve never claimed to be perfect!) but I thought tonight was as good a night as any to share.   I’d love to hear your thoughts, so please, post a comment!  If you want the traditional version too, let me know and I’ll get that posted as well.  Which reminds me…is there are an etiquette rule for Christmas card lists?  Meaning, if we don’t receive one…ever…from someone, should we keep sending ours?  Just wondering….

expectant
excited, we rang
in the year
waiting, worrying
wondering how we’d
change.

prayer
could it be?
so early, so unprepared
so what.
lesson plans
school, speeding
hospital

we walk in, the last
time we are two
our home, the cocoon
time stands still
I see hours I’d
long since forgotten
why not write e-mails
at 3:15am?

security
lost
trusting
in
God’s plan for
our lives.
We wait.  We pray.
With hope, we
slowly adjusting
to our newfound roles

we fly
we share
celebrating an academic
accomplishment

savoring summer
through family
picnics, perfect flurries
and hammock time
we relax.

we fly
again
at night, delayed.
we run
we make it
we learn, we connect
we think about
the memories made

we camp
we mourn and celebrate
his life
counting our blessings
and allowing our memories
to keep us company.

we run
sweat,
work, we run
and run, training
for the race
I compete

we read
write, work
and study
we manage
schedules
of drop-offs
and pick-ups.

we cherish
each day.

I fly
and miss
my boys
I revisit
and reminisce
pairing
new memories
with the old.

we celebrate
and reflect
on the year’s
worth of
blessings.

sharing joy
offering hope
accepting His gift
and reflecting
love
this holiday
season.