The Quest for Excellence...

My mother and father always demanded that I do my best. When I was younger I resented it. I didnt understand why other kids could slack off, and enjoy more of their free time when I always had to work so hard and was held to a higher standard. It frustrated me. They never backed down, so I was forced, coerced through a series of consequences that it would be better do work hard and have happy times at home. Life was simply not pleasant if my parents were not getting good reports from my teachers. I will never forget my freshman year of HS, before I transferred to St. Marks, I had a B+ in biology, not on a report card, not on a progress report...somewhere in the middle. A B+ because I had not turned in a homework assignment or two. The teacher, knowing my parents because they both worked in the system, informed them that I was missing assignments. This missing work was unacceptable to my parents, and as a result I was forced to give up my lead in the school play in order to focus on my schoolwork. Can you tell there is still a twinge of resentment there?

I do have a point. I resented how hard they pushed but somewhere along the way their demands for excellence became part of my make up, and I resolved to never expect less than the best from myself. This drives people in my life crazy at times. It means I work too many hours, and that I bring my work home during the times I am not just staying endlessly at work to get things done to my satisfaction. But I am intrinsically motivated. I look around, listen to television, the news, the younger generation and all I see are a bunch of people who expect to get something for everything they do. They are not satisfied with just the 'good feeling' that comes from doing something excellently..they want a reward. They want a banner, or a pat on the back...no..they dont WANT that..they EXPECT it.

We no longer seem to be a society who is on a quest for excellence. We are on a quest for what we can get...constantly asking "what have you done for me lately."

I hope this trend turns around...there arent enough rewards to go around, and the apathy that will follow is incomprehensible to me.

Missing.....

I spend a lot of my life missing people. I miss Meme, I miss my Mom, I miss my daughters, I miss my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my Dad , my brother, my niece and nephew, I miss my friends from high school, college....heck I miss my friends here because my life is so busy I dont have time for them. Now...for the next few days I am adding someone else to miss with Rich out of town until Sunday I will miss him as well.

You never realize how much someone means until there is a space in your life they filled. The little things - like...Rich gets up in the morning to make me coffee and breakfast before I go to work, or.... the days he works all night and gets home and makes coffee and when my alarm goes off and I get up to go into the bathroom, he has sat a cup of hot coffee on the counter so I can have a sip before I even get my eyes adjusted to light. His hug when I come in the door in the afternoon that says without a word that all is well with the world...I am home..and I am loved.
Monday we went to the movies....and my romantic and wonderful husband held my hand through the movie (he always does that) but he would bring my hand to his lips during the movie, and kiss the palm of my hand. Not a word, but a gesture of caring that made me feel like the most important person in the world to him. He does things like that all the time. Quiet acts of kindness and love ..they arent full of bravado, they arent for show..they are just simple loving gestures that mean the world to me. I will miss them with him gone.

I miss meme and mom. I miss that secure feeling...the guiding hand that I always knew was just a phone call away. I miss being able to have somebody to talk to about my girls, about my husband, about my work.....about my thoughts and feelings. Somebody objective who would love me no matter what I shared. I took for granted how much that meant to me. I didnt ever show either of them how much I cared while I could show them. I will always regret that. I have a hole in my life that they used to occupy and that noone else could possibly fill.

I miss my daughters. I miss the ease of just being able to hug them to let them know I loved them. I miss knowing everything about their day. I am so glad they are one another's best friend...but it leaves me out of the equation a bit, and sometimes I just want to cry from missing those precious girls. I sure do wish they would e-mail or call more. I do much better with e-mail!

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I am not sure my heart has room to get any fonder of the wonderful man I married 24 years ago. He has his faults, but we love each other, and that is all that matters.

I guess the point of this missive is to appreciate the moments you have with the people you love. Dont let irritation, or complacence cause you to miss the importance of those moments. You never know when you wont get any more of them. Love long, Love lots...and tell the people you love how much you appreciate them every day.

Theatre.....what it means to me....

Theatre ....... just saying that word gives me a soaring boost of adrenaline. I love everything about it. I love watching it, I love thinking about it, I love planning for it, I love acting, designing, directing, producing.....I love the collaborative nature of the art that brings people together with a sharing of talents and gifts and makes the most of each - raising each participant up. I love theatre people - they are the most creative, feeling, wide open people on the planet. They are just not afraid to play around in the feelings and thoughts inside of themselves that other people repress and suppress. They also tend to be insecure people who crave validation and are not particicularly intrinsically motivated. That insecurity is what lets them move so freely into the role of another...there is security in that, the script is constant and the outcome certain. The emotional journey is identified so there is no personal risk.

I love teaching theatre. I love opening the eyes and minds of young people to a medium they havent really encountered. I love catching them before their creativity is closed off, and opening them up to always thinking and experiencing things freely.

Being Grateful

I have so much to be grateful for. A wonderful family. A job I love and that never stops being full of the good kind of challenges that inspire me to do better. A principal who supports and believes in what I do with children. Students who are willing to commit to excellence. A wonderful house. Dogs who make me smile every day. Relatively good health. Friends. Talents.

So often we take everything for granted. I just wanted to stop for a moment today to say how grateful I am for all of the blessings of my life. I need to remember every day to stop and take time to smell the flowers...appreciate everything beautiful....and breathe it in. That is what joy is about.

Mommy Dearest...

I had Bekah young. I was a married adult, but I was still young. Before she came I was a complete and total slob. I thought life was about fun, the next sensation, the next adventure, the next friend, cheeseburger, mall visit, restaurant. I was a person who was on the go all the time...unless I was in bed. Those were my two states of being - moving at a frantic pace, or not moving at all.

Then Bekah was conceived and our life changed. Rich joined the army so we would have medical insurance for her birth, and left when I was four months pregnant. I was left to be pregnant alone. I had family....Rich's parents living upstairs and My parents and aunts and cousins and Meme and my friends at college. I wasnt alone alone, but I did miss Rich being there to share with me the first time she really kicked, and the growing stomach and the eternal vomiting which I did for nine months. Then she was born....after 20 hours of hellacious labor...but that fades the moment that precious baby is placed in your arms. I looked at her and from that moment my life changed. I was responsible for her. All of the possibilities of her life depended on me doing the right thing....loving her enough, loving her dad enough...being strong and dependable and keeping things clean and my life structured and orderly. I read book after book on raising a child. Making lists and plans for how to raise her, not just through infancy but forever. A plan so that she would always feel I was consistent and constant and not a flibberty gibbet which is my natural life tendency. Suddenly the apartment was clean. Not just sometimes, all the time. I washed her clothes in nothing but ivory snow. She was clean and bathed always. She was held, and loved, and sung to... not just by me but by an army of people who loved her.

I will never forget the first time Rich saw his little Ms. Magoo...she had that friar tuck baldish thing going on for a very long time. I put her in his arms and they just looked at each other, neither of them moving. It was like their souls connected. For her whole growing up Bekah was such a Daddy's girl from that moment on. She smiled and laughed so often, and she was inquisitive and loved to explore the world. She was the most well behaved baby. I could take her anywhere. If it was naptime and we were at the mall, she would lie down in her stroller and take her nap. Noise didnt bother her, she just slept. She went to restaurants, art galleries, movies, everywhere and didnt ever cause a ruckus...she was peaceful. I loved dressing her up. She had the coolest clothes thanks to her grandmother and aunt janice who loved to visit Rochelles and buy the cutest things at the biggest bargains. She and I took infant swimming at the Y when she was just 3 months old..and she was a little fish. She loved her days with Aunt Lenore while I went to college and loved her weekends..every other weekend alternating with her grandparents so I could work. She smiled and laughed with my room mate Jane. (Jane was a godsend that year Rich was away and I was still in Massachusetts trying to finish college)
When Bekah had just turned a year old we moved to Georgia. Her life changed, and she changed in subtle ways. The first year of her life had been full of constant love and attention from so many people all the time. Suddenly it was just me and her Dad. The army doesnt have a forgiving schedule and Rich worked all the time. I was alone in the apartment with Bekah. We got a routine going. We would mousercize first thing in the morning, then have our breakfast, then sesame street and fraggles, then reading time, then free play time while i picked up, then Eureka's Castle which led us into lunch, then nap time while i cleaned the house from end to end, stripped beds, bleached, washed sheets, dusted, and vacuumed the carpet in three directions ....the whole house..every day. In the afternoon we would go to the pool, and read, and often in the late afternoon Rich's army buddies would come by...even thought Rich was at work...to see what I was making for dinner. We had dinner company almost every night on a grocery budget of only $100! After dinner there was always a bath, and a book and bedtime. A routine, the same thing day after day after day. I had read that routine was important, and I was determined to do the right thing with this awesome responsibility I had been given.

Money was tight, so I started watching other children at the house. The routine helped, we just eased each new kid into the routine with us. At one point I was watching six children in a small apartment ranging from newborn to 2 years old. Still cleaning the apartment every day and cooking for Rich and his friends. Still trying to give Bekah all the love and attention she deserved. I was lonely, but I loved being a Mom more than anything. On Rich's days off we would go to the park and throw balls, and swing and picnic. We couldnt afford anything else, but we always went out on those days. I remember our outings to Chuck E Cheese where Rich and I and Bekah would split one salad bar and a basket of breadsticks and call that our splurge because it was all we could afford. What we were really affording on those excursions was the fun of watching Bekah play in the ball pit with the other kids, and watch the animatronic show. She loved it, and we loved watching her love it.

Then I discovered I was pregnant and things were tense for a bit. There was no way we were going to be able to afford two children in diapers, we were barely making it with one. I doubled my efforts to potty train Bekah and luckily she potty trained very easily and when Laura was born when Bekah was fifteen months old, Bekah was already potty trained. The pregnancy wasnt easy. There were complications. I was on bed rest and only allowed to get up to go to the bathroom. We set up the sleeper sofa and that was my home. I tried to stay to the routine as much as possible, but Bekah got more tv time than I would have liked because I couldnt get up to take her anywhere. The house was not clean, the company no longer came for dinner since I couldnt get up to cook, Rich still worked long hours - he was working two jobs - and I was so lonely and trapped in a sofa bed for over a month. Bekah was starting to be independent, but thankfully the terrible two's had not hit - yet.

Laura was born, two and a half months early. I woke up one morning and got up to go to the bathroom and there was a sea of blood. In the most horrible day ever...Rich got somebody to watch Bekah and raced me to Martin Army Hospital on Ft Benning where the idiots put me in a room for six hours and wouldnt do anything. I wasnt bleeding anymore. They had lost my ultrasound results ...I had been hospitalized for bleeding once already prior to being put on bed rest...and had weekly ultrasounds. Suddenly the records were gone and the Dr was trying to claim that I was full term based on my stomach measurements and that we needed to just let things progress naturally. Rich was beside himself and went home collecting up a portion of the 'evidence' of the blood flood of the morning. Finally after 6 hours of complete incompetence the Dr sent me by ambulance to the medical center where there was a neonatal icu. In that late hour decision they saved my life and Lauras. When I got to the medical center the doctor ordered an immediate ultrasound and they were alarmed. The placenta had separated from the uterus, the baby was breech and things were dire. They rushed me into emergency surgery. They put me under, no time for an epideural or a spinal or other fancy birth options..this was a life or death situation. They put me under...but not enough. I couldnt move, but I felt every single cut and was paralyzed so I couldnt let anybody know the pain I was in. Blessedly at some point in the surgery I 'went under' and from that point didnt know anything that went on until the recovery room when a nurse told me I had given birth to a son. As they rolled me out of the recovery room to the room I would be in for almost a week Rich told me that we had a daughter. I was really confused. I asked to see my baby and they explained that I couldnt, that she was in neonatal icu and that I couldnt go there because of my own medical condition. I got out of bed and started to take out the IV's etc...I told them I WAS going to see my baby. It didnt take long for them to acquiesce and get me a wheelchair and take me to the neonatal icu. She was so tiny. She was so fragile, still covered in blood because they didnt dare lower her temperature to clean her off...she had tubes going into her all over and monitors and she was in a full incubator without any way to touch her. They explained that she had been dead at birth, but that they had revived her. They also explained that the odds of her survival were only 50/50. I sat there, just letting her grasp my pinky finger for as many hours as they would let me stay. I talked to her, I sang to her. I couldnt hold her, or feed her, or change her...but I was determined to let her know that her Mommy loved her. Thrive she did, at a rate that surprised the neonatal staff. I was there for every feeding they allowed, determined that I wanted to be there as often as I could when she was taken from that incubator to be held. As much as possible it would be me holding her and caring for her, not some stranger. They do not like to let preemies go until they reach 5 lbs, but they let Laura come home when she hit 4 lbs. They said they werent worried about her care since I had been there doing all of her care anyway. She was so tiny when we brought her home. I had to make a surround for the carseat so she wouldnt fall over. (at that time, you couldnt buy such things, now everybody has them for newborns) She couldnt wear even preemie clothing - everything was too big. My mother asked her students for cabbage patch doll clothes, and she shipped them to me. They fix my little laura doll. She was very cute in her doll clothes. Her entire head fit in the palm of my hand and I have never felt so protective of anyone in my entire life as I felt of my precious little baby girl. My mother would tell you that I held on to that protective feeling far too long and babied Laura, I would tell you that whatever I did was just right because she turned out to be an amazing woman.

The first month she was home from the hospital was incredibly difficult for me. Laura had to eat every two hours, and they said she had to take at least an ounce. It took an hour to coerce her to take an ounce. So...all night long...I had to set an alarm every two hours and be awake for an hour to feed, then try to sleep an hour before repeating. This might be fine, but Bekah was 15 months old and I could not sleep during the day. Rich would have helped, but he was working two jobs to try to make ends meet and he was seldom home. All day long I had to spend those non feeding hours making sure Bekah didnt feel usurped by her new sister and that our routine would be very much like it had been instead of catching those naps I craved. It was a crazy hard time of my life...but I had two beautiful girls to show for it. I wouldnt trade it for anything.

We moved onto post quarters not too long after Laura was born. Having a second child bumped us closer to the top of the list. It was SO nice to have the house to ourself. Our house, no room mate to help with the expenses. A home for my family with three bedrooms two baths, kitchen, dining room, living room and a small backyard. There was a playground down the street that I could walk to...and my neighbor was incredibly wonderful and friendly and fell in love with Bekah right away. She had a swing in her front yard, and she and Bekah would sit and swing and talk and talk and talk. We didnt have a lot of money, but with what we did have I decorated our little house so that it would be a home Rich could be proud of. Finally we could have company again, and not just Rich's army buddies, we had a spare room so we could have our friends from home come visit and stay. Scott Libby came, and Jane Norton, and Donna Bouchard....we had a really good time. It was nice to have a home. One of Jeff's buddies was getting married so we hosted the reception in our quarters and I did all of the cooking for it. Jeff's new wife Amy and I became great friends. Bekah hit the terrible twos, and suddenly my incredibly peaceful little girl became a little beast. She had tantrums the likes of which I thought would cause her to injure herself. I was baffled, totally baffled. I did not understand why my sweet girl had gone Linda Blair on me. I went back to the baby books to read what to do for tantrums. I targeted on one solution.....hold her, hold her tight and tell her over and over that you love her while she thrashes and screams and wails. I did that. Omg she hated it. So....when she was about to tantrum she would look at me and pee...knowing that I wasnt going to hold her if she was pee soaked. It was a horrible time. She was also rather precocious. At two years old she would tell me "Mother, do not wear those shoes they dont match". They probably didnt. I sure wasnt spending what little money we had on clothes for me. Everything went to our girls. Between their grandparents, great aunts and us..they had everything any child could dream of. Rich was working animal control for the army at this time, so he brought home twin black cocker spaniels we named 'Danny' and 'Danielle' They were so cute and I had been wanting pets so badly.


to be continued.....

24 years and counting

This weekend is Rich and my anniversary. 24 years as husband and wife. Two dozen years....more than half my life.

We have faught, laughed, cried, done foolish things, hurtful things, loving things....we have had adventures and quiet nights in front of the fire....we have walked hand in hand on the beach...and swam hand in hand in the bluest waters of the caribbean. We have forgiven one another. We have disliked one another. We have resented one another. but more.....We committed to one another and neither of us was willing to give up on that committment we made to each other for better or worse. As a result something deep and abiding has grown. Our relationship is a rock, it is strong, it has weathered and can weather any storm, and no matter what comes our way...that rock is strong because it is us together.

24 years. I remember the words of 'our song' ...the one we danced to at our wedding...

~you know our love was meant to be the kind of love to last forever
and i want you here with me...from tonight until the end of time
you should know..everywhere i go...you are always in my mind, in my heart, in my soul baby..
you are the meaning in my life, you're the inspiration
you bring feeling to my life, you're the inspiration
want to have you near me
want to have you hear me saying
no one needs you more than i need you.

So true still today - Every word of it.

I love you Rich...yesterday, today, and always.....

Feeling Like a Hamster on a wheel

The start of school is always insane with business. This year is even worse.

I am teaching five different classes, each with a completely different curriculum. There are no textbooks from which to form the curriculum so I am writing it as I go. Talk about time consuming! I love writing curricula...I love the creative process of figuring out how to engage the minds of students and instead of forcing them to learn, them loving the learning. I love the trial and error of figuring out what works and what doesnt and tweaking and adjusting. I love doing this...but there just arent enough hours in the day!

My legs hurt...my feet hurt...my brain is weary and I am trying to readjust to the constant noise noise noise noise.

I think that the quiet is my favorite part of summer.

And of course, it isnt just school...auditions at the community theatre...which I love. Getting ready for auditions at school. Trying to make sure Rich feels important and loved. Trying to find time to make time for my friends.

I feel like a hamster on a wheel...I love running the wheel or I would get off...but while I am running...I just keep looking ahead and seeing no end in sight...just more running and running and running and running.....

First Day of School

The First Day of School was always as exciting as Christmas Morning to me. I have always loved school. I love new folders and new school supplies. I always loved the new clothes - that perfect brand new first day outfit.

I still love those things. I may well have become a teacher just so i could re-live the excitement of having a 'first day of school' every year for ...well...too many more years to count!

I also love teaching. I just really love it. I love getting to know new students. I love the energy of a classroom. I love that minute when you KNOW you have their interest and they are involved in learning. I love the reparte between the kids and between them and me. I love everything about teaching except that It starts too early in the morning.

Today my daughter came to school with me. I loved that too, because I love her. I dont get to spend enough time with her and really enjoyed catching up with her during my planning time and sharing my first day happiness with her. She was helpful, she copied papers for me!

I miss my family being together. I miss them getting along. I miss that cohesive unit we used to be. I was ok with empty nesting when everyone was happy with one another...but when I dont feel like, even apart, we are a circle of love and support I just get sad. Particularly now ....losing Mom and losing Meme I realize even more poignantly how important it is to hold on to and cherish and value every moment with the people I love. I feel sad that my family isnt that way right now. I dont understand any idea or ideal that can come before the love of family. I just dont.

anyway...cant talk about this anymore...making me too sad and ruining my First Day Buzz

Work, Blog or Sleep?

Back to work after summer is always exhausting. Even before the students arrive, just getting up in the morning again is exhausting. I had been doing such a fine job of blogging, but my couch and sleep have called ...loudly...and i have answered the call with clicker in hand and pillow beneath my head for several nights now.

So......The past couple of days have been frustrating. I was so excited about having several classrooms...until I had to set up several classrooms! Oh my Jeez! I had trouble keeping up with one, nevermind 3!!! I am going to love my new little computer lab space. It is already starting to feel homey. I already love my big cavernous dungeon rehearsal room, and well...honestly I havent done a thing to the broadcast room yet!

So.....I finish getting dressed this morning for the big county wide school roll out extravaganza...and I hear my phone make the wonderful 'you have a text msg' sound. I dash to the phone, wondering which of the students is going to miss our performance at said extravaganza only to see a text from my principal informing me that I am going to have to speak at the extravaganza, in front of all of the faculty, staff , administrators, central office, school board from my entire school system. I text her back "what??????" I bet she waited until this morning to tell me because she didnt want me to have time to figure out how to get out of it. I hate public speaking. It makes me rather nauseated to be honest. I went to complain to my darlin husband, and he was busy with mafia wars and just told me to get over it, that I was the district teacher of the year and I could say a few words. Some loving sympathetic spouse..sheeesh. So I managed to say a few words...very few..the last words I spoke were "and now lets see the kids perform, they are much more fun to watch than me looking uncomfortable at this podium" ...and I scooted to the back fast and let the kids perform. They speak for me so much better than I do anyway! I dont like attention that way, I really dont. I get nervous and uncomfortable. I was secretly celebrating today being the last time I am going to have to be introduced as 'Teacher of the Year, top ten..etc" It has been so validating, but so ...humbling. I feel like the other teachers must be so tired of hearing my name! The kids performed great...lots of compliments about their performance.

Back to my new classroom and the frustration of cooling my jets and waiting on somebody else's timetable for completion. I dont do well with being on hold, not at all. Finally my computers were set up though...now I just have to wait for my projector and speakers, etc to be put in!

I am looking forward to tomorrow. The first day of school is always exciting. Such amazing energy to it both from me and the students. Forging ahead to new group dynamics and projects and every day waking up with one desire - to inspire kids to love themselves and to love learning.

Time for bed...or i wont be so excited..I will be tired. Oh! Happy happy my bekah is coming to visit me tomorrow at school. I miss my girls so much, I am so glad she is coming to see me.

Home and Priorities....

I love my house. To me it is comfort and warmth and peace and...well...it is home. I havent spent much time here this summer. Dont get me wrong, I am not complaining. I have done so many fun things this summer, seen things I always wanted to see, done things I always wanted to do...relaxed at the beach which always revitalizes me. I have, however, missed my house. I have missed my oversized chair in the corner of the living room that fits me and both dogs comfortably. I have missed my own kitchen to cook in, and the spices and other kinds of things I have at my fingertips to cook with at home. I have missed my princess bed, there is nothing on earth as comfortable as that bed. I have missed the relaxed easiness of just being home.

I love a clean, neat house...and it was so nice to walk in last night and be able to crawl into bed without worrying about picking up. One of the benefits of empty nesting is that Rich and I are able to keep the house the way we want it all the time. We washed our clothes before leaving the beach...so even the laundry is done. Just a few things to put away.... and summer is officially over.

As I look ahead to the upcoming year I am trying to focus on my priorities. I think Rich has felt like he comes behind work on my priority ladder. I am determined for him not to continue feeling this way. I do love my job though, and am exciting about upcoming productions at school and at the Community Theatre. I guess the key is finding balance...where I am speaking Rich's love language in the time we have together so he never forgets that always in my heart and mind he comes first on my priority list - no matter how busy life gets!

Speaking of busy...I need to finish up lesson plans for my new curriculum!

Connectivity

We live in such a tech heavy world.....connectivity becomes an issue on so many levels. I found myself frustrated beyond what was reasonable this morning because I couldnt log in to the internet while away from home. I wanted to blog. I wanted to check my facebook. I wanted to check my e-mail. I wanted the infinite resources of the internet to help me with lesson plans while I was stuck indoors on a rainy day at the beach.

Sometimes I think this connectivity is such an issue. Take my daughter Bekah...she is all connected, her phone connects her 24/7, yet...is she connected with people? She doesnt answer my phone calls, or her sisters lots of times, or her Dads. Do we use this connectivity to connect to people...or is it just for the sake of having connections we dont have to get personal with except on our own terms.

I just have to shake my head at my frustration, then had to think...I was sitting in the room with the love of my life and frustrated because i couldnt blog???? How ridiculous is that. How ridiculous are we all with our connectivity addictions!