A Tale As Old As Time 2

A couple days ago, I wrote a piece called A Tale as Old as Time or Breakfast with My Boys or Life With Toddlers or I Could Have Predicted This. Today’s piece is a variation on that piece, and thus, A Tale as Old as Time 2. It is written in third person to protect the innocent (or…not so innocent, but…indignant. Chagrined).

A Tale As Old As Time 2 or Predictable Patterns in My Life or Why Do I Do This to Myself or You Would Think I’d Have Learned By Now

It began last night.  She finished her school work. She wrote and posted her writing and did her reading and commenting. It was getting a little late, but really she had earned that snack.  So she had it. 

On her way to begin her bedtime routine, the littlest boy cried out for her, so she went to comfort him. The boy now comforted and asleep, she resumed the nighttime routine already made later. Maybe just a few minutes of scrolling before the evening shower? Yes, just a few. Maybe more. Okay, more.

It was well past bedtime by then, but the house was quiet, and she, ever the night owl, had the usual evening burst of energy despite the underlying exhaustion.  Maybe she would fold a few items of laundry, or… okay, one basket.  When else would it get done?

And then, sleep.  Well, almost. Lying in bed, but first, just a few pages of the book.  She’d been looking forward to it all day. And surely, it would help her relax, right? Maybe even sleep better than if she didn’t? Yes, she’d really better read a few pages.  Well… it’s a good part, so maybe a chapter? But…what happens next? Okay, just a few more pages chapters.

Yikes, it was late.  How did it suddenly get so late?, she wondered. Lights off.  Oops! Don’t forget the alarm. She’d better set it a few minutes earlier than the previous morning, so she wouldn’t be late again.

A middle of the night wake-up. The bigger of the boys needed something; then she was back to sleep.  

Before she knew it – the morning alarm. Oof. That had come earlier than she would have liked. The snooze button, just once. It was okay, she accounted for it when she set the alarm last night. And then… well, just once more would be okay. She’d just get ready a little faster, it would be fine.

Except, now tired, and feeling a bit rushed, the usual morning anxiety was creeping in. Why did work have to start so early? How did a night owl choose a job designed for an early bird? Really, it was a biological conflict. 

And of course… the littlest boy, being of that Particular Age, did not simply just “get ready faster.” No, he didn’t see why his mommy was trying to rush him.  It just made him Mad. And the mommy was just going to have to carry him around to compensate. It wasn’t his fault. 

And now… well… how did this happen? Running late… again? But – she had set the alarm a few minutes earlier!

When she got up yesterday, exhausted before the day began, she had decided she would go to bed earlier to make up for it! And now… okay well now it’s happened again. Arghhh. 

She took a deep breath.

She’d just have to go to bed a little earlier tonight, and get up a little earlier tomorrow. 

Easy.

Right? 

It’s not like this would happen again.

…right?

This Slice is part of the March Slice of Life Writing Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers. It may or may not have been posted after 10pm on a school night.

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The Seeds That We Sow

This poem was inspired by today, the first day of spring, and reflections of motherhood’s journey.

The future seems far
And who knows what will be
We just wish and we hope and we pray
We plan and we take
And we work and we make
The best decisions we can for today

We all do our best
And we do what we know
And we hope that we don’t steer them wrong
We hope that our choices
Can foster their voices
To be sure, to stand up, to be strong

We lead them and love them
And teach them the lessons
We hope will guide them through life
We pray it’s enough
Oh, this job can be tough
It can weigh on your heart day and night

We give them our love
And we give them our time
And we hope that they grow wise and good
For the seeds that we sow
Are the things that will grow
In this garden of their childhood

From last year: a late summer photo of our wild and beautiful boy in our wild and beautiful garden.

This poem is my 20th of 31 Slices for the Slice of Life March Writing Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers.

A Tale as Old as Time

A Tale as Old as Time or Breakfast with My Boys or Life With Toddlers or I Could Have Predicted This

Yesterday, I was making myself breakfast a bit after my sons had eaten theirs.

I fried a couple of eggs, and knowing that every time I do so at least one little boy will want some too, I fried an extra one. 

I was enjoying my breakfast checking to see if anyone seemed interested in sharing, and seeing the answer was no, worked my way through my last egg

Two bites from them being gone, my littlest boy eyed my plate and said, “Mommy? You have eggs? I have some?”  And I gladly gave him my last bites. 

A few minutes later: “Mommy, I want more eggs! Make more eggs, please!”

And so the pan was reheated, another egg cracked, and one last egg plated. 

The egg was placed in front of the littlest boy. And the littlest boy? Took one, and only one, bite. 

Sigh. A tale as old as time.

This is Slice 19 of 31 for the Slice of Life March Writing Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers.

A Gift

Today was a gift

Of rest

And sunshine

And time

And my boys

And our friends

And I would gladly

And gratefully live 

A thousand more days

Just like this

Please

And thank you

This poem is Slice 18 of 31 for the March Slice of Life Writing Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers.

Not-Quite-Irish Blessings for Teachers

In honor of Saint Patrick’s Day, please enjoy this collection of not-quite-Irish blessings I wrote for all the teachers in my life!

1.

May your lessons go smooth

And your patience be strong

And when you’re observed

May nothing go wrong

2.

May the hands raise to greet you

May students walk calm behind your back

May recess sun shine warm upon your face

And ‘til the buses leave again

May good listening always reign across the land

3.

There once was a teachin’ profession

Which is sometimes considered a blessin’

For a teacher it’s true

There’s just so much to do

It’s much more than just teachin’ yer lessons

4. 

May you always be granted:

Children who listen, parents who understand

Principals who support, and lessons that land

Copiers that work, books that are loved

Directives that always make sense from above

Supplies when they’re needed, and storage when not

Time for the restroom, and coffee that’s hot

******

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone! Let me know which of my “blessings” rang truest for you!

And on this Friday, love and luck to you all.

Today’s slice is part of the Slice of Life Writing Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers.

What’s Your Rainbow?

This month, my schools are participating in March Book Madness. I’ve been reading one of the books to my music classes: Music is a Rainbow, by Bryan Collier.

In this book, a little boy receives this advice from his father:

“Son, life is full of holes. You may want to close them up to keep out the storm. But make sure to leave room for that rainbow to find you.”

It’s a beautiful book about the choices we make and the things that fill the holes in our lives in times of trouble. In the author’s note, Collier explains, “Time after time, the boy discovers that music is his light or rainbow in the midst of darkness.”

After reading, I asked my students to think about the following: What is your rainbow? 

And now I present to you:

The Rainbows of Children, Aged 5-11:

Music

Drawing

Dancing

Eating pizza

Art

My dog

Math

Playing

Singing

Soccer

Gymnastics

Reading

Boba Tea

Nature

Swimming

My guinea pigs

Going downtown

Anime

Gardening

Going outside

Cats

Video games

Actual rainbows

My best friends

My family

Ah, the wisdom of children.  I told them it’s okay to have more than one rainbow, but that I hoped they could think of at least one. 

What brings light to your life? What is your rainbow? I hope you have more than one, too.

Today’s piece is part of the Slice of Life March Writing Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers.

The Ides of March

“Beware the Ides of March!” from Julius Caesar, by William Shakespeare.

Why do I remember this one specific line from Shakespeare that I learned in 10th English class in the spring of 2002? Over 20 years ago? 

I am very much a person with what I would call an impressionistic memory.  While some people seem to have vivid, detailed memories, in general I do not. 

And yet, I can remember the light in the classroom, the laughing of me, Charlie, Dave, and other classmates. And most specifically: Mr. W, in a crisp white shirt and black tie, the twinkle he had in his eye, his passion and enthusiasm, also in on the joke, knowing he was making an impression. “Beware the Ides of March!,” he read dramatically.

To this day, I think of that line every March 15th.  I wonder if my classmates still remember and think about that lesson.  Do they also feel a bit superstitious on this day? Do they feel the urge to go around saying this line to others? Does the general public know the reference?

Most importantly: why do I remember this one line of Shakespeare so clearly? Why is it so clear in my own mind over twenty years later?

Quite simply: my teacher.  Mr. W.  His passion, his enthusiasm, his willingness to be genuine and dramatic and a little silly in front of a group of 16-year-olds (certainly not the easiest audience).  

Yes, I have always loved literature and English class, and if I were not a music teacher there’s a good chance I would have been an English teacher.  But I think this moment, and this line of literature, is clear in my mind not because of the literature itself but because of the delivery of a passionate teacher.

It makes me stop to think: Will my students be quoting me some day? Telling a story? “Remember in music class when…” “Remember how Mrs. Mazer used to say…” What will they say about me? What will they remember about me? What will they remember about the time they spent in my classroom?

I hope they remember finding joy in music.  I hope they remember a special song, or activity, or performance. I hope they look back and remember feeling safe and accepted and seen and included and encouraged.  I hope they remember feeling confident, and like they could take risks.  I hope they remember a spark of passion for music and the arts and compassion for other people.  I hope they remember just how much fun it was to make music with friends. I can even dream big and hope they learned a few life lessons and about the importance of how you treat other people.

I think back to my own incredible teachers, especially my music teachers, along the way, and I know the impact they had on me and my life.  And while I may not be able to predict what my impact will be on my students, I know for certain what I wish for it to be.

How do you want your students to look back at their time with you? What lessons of yours do you think will stick with them? What words? What feelings? What impressions?

P.S. Thank you, Mr. W, for your enthusiasm and passion.  Thank you Mrs. W, Mr. R, Mrs. D, Ms. T./Mrs.O, Mrs. K, Mr. C, Mr. S, Dr. L, Dr. H, and Dr. C, and many others. My time in your classrooms was a gift.

P.P. S. And friends – please, Beware the Ides of March.

Today’s Slice is part of the Slice of Life March Writing Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers.

#Balance

Balance

Recently, I went on a walk in one of my favorite parks. Then, immediately following my walk, I went to a  nearby cafe where I indulged in a latte and a sweet treat. Laughing at myself for my exercise followed by dessert, I texted my mom a photo of my treat and #balance.

Today I found myself in my classroom reflecting upon all the ways that balance is part of my life as an elementary music teacher. Here’s what I came up with.

Balance is teaching one lesson feeling like an all-star who has everything figured out, and teaching another feeling like you have no clue what you’re doing.  Naturally these lessons will occur within the same day.

Balance is having some students who live and breathe for music, and others who couldn’t care less about it.

Balance is meeting the needs of students who take private music lessons and students who struggle with basic literacy (let alone music literacy). These kids are in the same class together.

Balance is sometimes staying at school until it’s dark out and other times leaving at 3:15. 

Balance is teaching 11- year-olds and 5-year-olds on the same day, often back-to-back.

Balance is some days feeling like you’re on fire and other days feeling like you’re crawling.

Balance is some days thinking “I can’t believe they pay me to do this!” and other days thinking “thank goodness they pay me to do this.”

Balance is having a job that can be a huge joy and can be a huge challenge.

Balance is only teaching your students once a week, but also teaching them for six consecutive years.

Balance is hearing sound all day long and then driving home with the radio off.

Balance is being a teacher first and a musician second, but loving both sides of it.

Balance is trusting other people to care for your “babies” while you’re working, while having other parents’ “babies” in your care, and understanding the enormous responsibility of it.

Balance is giving your energy to people all day long, and trying to save enough energy for the people at home, too. 

And that includes yourself. So if your #balance includes exercise followed by a treat, I say go for it. Because without a doubt, you have earned it!

Today’s writing is Slice #14 from the Slice of Life Writing Challenge sponsored by Two Writing Teachers.

Don’t Wish it Away

Don’t Wish it Away

Recently, two amazing women in my life offered the same poignant advice within about a week of each other.  When two people whom you very much admire tell you the same thing in back-to-back succession, you listen.

One of these women has raised three of her own children, and has cared for dozens of others over the past couple of decades. On the day in question, I was picking up my son from her at the end of the day on a Thursday or Friday.  We were discussing a schedule change for the following Monday.  I made a remark to the effect of, “I meant to talk to you about it earlier this week, and the next thing I knew, it was Friday already, thank goodness.” She smiled and said in reply: “You know, by the time you get to be my age, you start wishing the weeks would slow down instead of speeding up.”

Whoa, that one hit me.  I filed it away to think on later.

That very next Monday at work, our department head was leading our meeting.  Many of us were making comments about how we hoped the coming week would go quickly as we were eagerly counting down to the start of spring break. Our leader, this impressive, confident, assured woman, cautioned us.  “I know we’re all looking forward to the break. But – it’s a week away.  Don’t wish it away.”

Boom.  Struck again.  These two wise women were both telling me something important. 

And so on this gray Monday, the start of a busy week, very much back to reality after a wonderful spring break (wow, that went quick, remember when I couldn’t wait for it to arrive?), with spring weather just around the corner, and looking down the tunnel of the last third of the school year, I am finally taking that time to stop and reflect.  

*******

It can be really hard not to wish time away.  Don’t we all do it at times? How can we not wish for Friday, or summer, or a special holiday, or a vacation, or a day off? How many times have tired parents longed for naptime, or bedtime? Or have we wished it was finally 3pm? How can we not wish away that tough meeting, or class, or challenging week, or semester, or…year? 

But of course, I don’t really want to wish years of my life away. Or even months or weeks. (I’d be lying if I said I’ve never wished a day or afternoon away). 

So, how can I enjoy the Mondays, and the gray winters, and certain stressful stretches of school days, or the days that I am so exhausted I am just yearning for bedtime?

I won’t profess to have The Answer, and for sure it is easy to sit and write about something which is much harder to put into action.  But here are a few ways I just might be able to accomplish the task at hand.

For one thing, I can strive to infuse my days with small pleasures.  I think it’s one of the reasons I love a good podcast or audiobook; it’s something that I can enjoy in small increments throughout my day.  It’s why I love my morning coffee, or a good TV show at night when I should really just go to bed, or that after-work feeling of changing into my comfy clothes. These little things just make my life a little happier.

I can also infuse my daily life with connections with other people.  It’s why it’s so wonderful to have amazing work friends, and people I text throughout the day, and best friends that I exchange Marco Polo video messages with, and why my dad and I might be among the last few people to still exchange daily Wordle scores. 

I can try to make it outside everyday, or exercise everyday, or take time to connect with my family everyday. 

I can make sure I stop and notice these moments. I can do my best to be really, and truly here in those moments.

Am I going to change the very human habit of wishing away time just because I thought and wrote about it? No, of course not. But can I try to be more mindful about it? And try to make most days count? (Most – because, you know, there will still sometimes be those days that you just need to go to bed and start over the next day). Yes, I can.  

So, to H. and to M., those two amazing, wise women: thank you.  Thank you for the wisdom and the reminder I needed. That I’m sure we all need sometimes.

Our lives are happening now, even on overcast Mondays the day after Daylight Savings Time with three very full months of school left.

Don’t wish it away.

This is Slice 13 for the Slice of Life March Daily Writing Challenge sponsored by Two Writing Teachers.

A Simple Sunday Slice

Today I…

… slept in, maybe, but it’s hard to know because it was Daylight Savings last night and also two little boys snuck into bed this morning and did more giggling than sleeping.

…marveled at how quickly my husband can unpack a suitcase because there’s a very good chance mine will remain packed until next weekend.

…spent a lot of time playing with my little boys because I could and because I wanted to and because after three days apart they wanted all the mommy snuggles.

…drank plenty of coffee in my newest mug from my sister-in-law because, well, coffee is part of my everyday life and also because now that I think about it I don’t think I slept in that much after all. 

…did load after load of laundry because somehow four people can produce a surprising amount of dirty clothes in just four nights away.

…read my newest library book because it’s one I’ve been looking forward to and I just finished my previous book and I’m trying to hold on to that spring break feeling just a little bit longer.

…went into one of my schools to set up for tomorrow and brought my littlest boy with me because we all need to get out of the house on a dreary day and he was thrilled to see where Mommy goes to “do music with the kids.”

…put my feet up and watched tv with my husband after the kids were in bed because it’s our Sunday night routine and one of the best ways to fight off the Sunday Scaries.

…wrote this simple slice and reflected on how my simple Sunday was actually pretty full because it simply was.

Today’s Slice is from Day 12 of the Slice of Life March Writing Challenge sponsored by Two Writing Teachers, and uses the “today I…” prompt/format.