there are days in the time since my children became adults that I have been glad they are out of my house and safely occupied somewhere I presume and I need not worry about them
there are days in the time since my children have become adults that I don’t hear from them for days and though they are surely safely somewhere, I worry
One of my yearly summer past times is to visit the nooks and crannies in my home and clean. I find scraps of poems everywhere. Here are today’s findings:
My only visits to the garden lately
have been at midnight.
Only the roses, with their butter-soft faces,
appear in the light of the moon.
I don’t walk to the apple grove anymore;
too many to pick, my children are gone.
I grieve the loss of daybreak baking.
mmm, trying to remember the inspiration – dust bunnies don’t talk…..
10 girls enjoying pizza after a pool party
1 girl celebrating her 11th birthday
1 best friend from another town
1 girl losing her tooth while she ate
3 girls huddled together, singing a song and rapping on the table
3 girls watching everything quietly from corner positions
1 girl with a green explosion of color on her hair, apparently applied in the pool changing room
10 girls on the threshold
of what lies beyond childhood
I went to a fairly large mall a week ago to buy a gift card at the American Girl doll store for my niece. My visit there brought so many disconcerting feelings. On the one hand, I wished I was a 10 year old girl again so I could drool and save my pennies for things in that doll store. On the other hand, I was disgusted by the amount of stuff I saw in the mall: piles of clothes on display stands, racks and racks of the same clothes in different stores, showcase after showcase of clothing and shoes and handbags.
I felt a huge compulsion to come home and clean out my closet – not so I could justify shopping for something new, but because I felt disgusted with myself for having any amount of anything at all. I just wanted to throw it all aside, pare down to the minimum and move into a 10×10 trailer.
Tomorrow will be one more full day of cleaning my classroom equipment and packing it away for the summer and I’ll probably have to come in Friday just to pack up my desk area – it is a mess all unto itself!
Now that the last week of activities with children and parents is behind me, it is easier to begin reflecting as I cram the last few items into already chock full cupboards and scrub surfaces I should have paid attention to months ago. (How many boogers have been wiped on this little stuffed kitty? How many grubby hands have pushed this school bus across a filthy floor!) My aide, Lupe, and I chuckle at these thoughts but our memories are fresh enough to be pretty grossed out at the same time.
This morning I listened to Lupe talk to our principal during her evaluation about what she learned this year. She has been with me two years now but this was the first year she took over my position when I was out of the classroom twice this year. Her confidence has grown. We also start thinking about what curriculum was especially successful and worth repeating and improving upon, and why we don’t feel that way about other things we did with the kids.
As usual, I have last little bits of fish to fry with building work – creative projects for the walls – yea! So a few more meetings over the next 2 weeks but otherwise, summer vacation begins in earnest this weekend. Sisters coming to town, trips planned, dips in the lake to look forward to and books. Yes, I finally get to get lost in a book and have nothing else I should be doing when that happens.
We all crave relevance,
to be noticed,
and sometimes admired.
How do you let people in your life know
they are relevant,
and often admiredby you?
A pirate story from last week:
Long John Silver is usually pretty bouncy at breakfast. He’s so excited to be with his friends – and he’s not much of an eater – and – well, he’s just got to be up on those spindly legs of his!
But there was one morning last week when he sat at the table the entire meal, and we weren’t even serving a favorite of his. I came up and stood behind him, my hands on his shoulders, and said,”Wow, you are so calm this morning. Did you do something different when you woke up today?”
“Yes, I did jumping jacks.”
Later that week I had a meeting with LJ’s mom and told her about the incident.
“Naw,” she said. “I’ve been giving him Benadryl for his allergies. I was worried about giving it to him because it winds his brother up.”
(well Mrs. LJ, I hate to admit this, but breakfast with your pirate on Benadryl, was kind of nice….)