Coming and going, and coming back again

It's just an ordinary weekend, but those are my very favorite kind.

Leah and I went on a bit of a shopping spree (thank you, Old Navy!) for a few much needed Mommy, Daddy and Leah items.  I am lucky to have such a great little shopping buddy!  She does fabulously when we go to any store, so it's always fun to take her along.  It's nice not to be that mom, with that screaming child (we've seen more than one of those parents out and about this weekend.  I'm sure my day is coming...) 

Bonus?  It resulted in my new favorite outfit:

...which we got to debut at Music Together class to wide approval.

We also tried to go to a local Scarecrow Festival, but since the weather looks like this:

that's 39 degrees and raining, in case you were wondering.

...it was postponed.  We went home and took a nap instead.  (BLISS!) 

Is there such a thing as fall cleaning?  I don't know if it was all the new clothes, or I've suddenly just got the bug, but I am itching to get things in our house tiddied up and organized.  I started here:

So long, 12 month clothes!  It was fun while it lasted!

Probably because I had to make room for these:

Hello, 18 months!

And, because the weather is so delightful awful, I'm making broccoli cheese soup and bread for dinner - a meal whose sheer yum-osity is off the scale.  We have every intention of finishing out the night with brownies and Halloween.

That's my kind of fall day!

Hope in hiding

The feeling overwhelms met at moments, claiming my breath and nearly bringing me to tears.

But this time, it's not grief. 

It's that familiar feeling, that overpowering sense of gratitude I get sometimes when I'm feeling particularly happy or hopeful. 

I am notorious for crying not when I'm sad, but when I'm happy.  And I'm doing it again.  It's been a while.

There is an unfamiliar sense of peace coursing through me.  A knowledge that something is coming.  A certainty in my own motherhood; confident in this vision that lingers in my head of four.

Strength.  Perseverence.  Fortitude.  These things I have in reserve, although I'd very much like to keep them in storage for a while. 

Hope.

I've still got it.  It's just been hiding for a while. 

Grateful for

...anniversaries that bring cheesecake

...decorating for Halloween

...walks through our neighborhood in the evening

...little ladies who splash and kick like mad in the bath

...Halloween episodes of old TV shows

...DVR, so I can still watch episodes of How I Met Your Mother, even though I can't watch them right now 'cause they're all about pregnancy.  I'll get there!

...jacket weather in the morning

...Leah's increasing vocabulary

...the lessons God is teaching me about patience, faith, perseverance and prayer

...this little face, above all.  As always.

God gave me you

I don't know if I have ever shared our wedding pictures. 

No, not these ones. 

The real ones.

The ones that were just for us.  The ones that were about nothing more or less than two people who loved each other with every fiber of their beings. 

It wasn't exactly every girl's dream wedding... wearing jeans in a very drab county clerk's office with construction and port-o-potties outside the window, officiated by a random judge who started the ceremony before we were even ready.

But let me tell you: I've done the "dream wedding" thing, and I know which one I'd do over.  And it's not the fancy-pants wedding in Vail.

The most important thing was then, and still is today, the fact that I get to spend my life with my best friend.  The man who makes me laugh, who is there for me when I cry, and the one who makes all my dreams come true. 

It's no fairytale, this life we lead.  It's better because it's real, and because it's ours. 

I love you from now until forever.

Happy Aniversary.

All things come full circle

It has been funny to see how eerily similar the chain of events has been this year as it was three years ago.

Three years ago, I was pregnant at the end of August, lost the baby in mid-September, {we got married on October 3rd}, went to Vail in early October.

Well... all things have now come full circle {sans the getting married part.  Twice was enough for us!}.

Only this time, the original two are now blissfully three, which means that things are a bit different. 

Where we once stayed in luxurious accommodations...

October 3rd, 2008

...we were a bit more concerned with practicality this year.

October 1&2, 2011



Priorities are a little different once there are little ones involved!

But we still had an incredible view!

Where we once sought out romance and adventure...

A horseback tour followed by an absolutely incredible day at the spa.  Ahhhh, to be newlyweds!

...our concerns this time around were...

...a bit more domestic.

I will say that Vail in the fall is one of my absolute favorite places on the entire planet.  I have a very hard time imagining why anyone would want to be anywhere else!  We had a wonderful time, and I can't wait to go back next year!

And, in no particular order, a few of my other favorites from the weekend:

Even though we couldn't get a smile from this one, I am so in love with our little family portrait. 

I do believe this is now an established tradition in our household, and I hope it's one we can repeat through the years.  We're awfully blessed, there's no doubt about it.

The one with my occasional awesome

I have a tendency to spend a whole lot of my time thinking I suck.

It's not that I'm not confident in myself or that I have poor self-esteem; it's just that I always try to be realistic.  And very often, I see how very far I have to go.  So throughout my life, when it turns out I'm good at something, I'm genuinely surprised.  

Besides, even if I am good, there are lots of people who are better.  And there's always lots of room for improvement.   

Teaching falls into that category.  Teaching is one of those professions for which the measure of proficiency is difficult to gauge.  What really makes an effective teacher? 

I am extremely fortunate to work with some truly amazing teachers, and most of the time I feel like I am definitely the weakest link in their very strong chain.  I wouldn't tell you I'm a bad teacher... but I have a hard time saying I'm a good one, either.  Compared to the teachers I had growing up, who so inspired and amazed me?

Yeah... I can't hold a candle.  

Which leads me to my story.

Today, our staff sat down to look at data from our state's assessment.  The data was broken down by the percent of students who showed growth from one year to the next.  We looked at the school's average (about 30%), and were informed that we would be looking at a document that broke this data down by all the teachers in the district - by name - and by class period. 

In other words, I teach 4 language arts classes, so each class was included individually in the data compared against all the other individual classes by every other language arts teacher in the district. 

The lowest growth was at the top, the highest on the bottom.  As the document was opening, I had to shut my eyes.  I knew I was going to be on the low end, so I just said a quick little prayer that I wasn't the lowest.  I'm still a relatively new teacher, I reasoned, and I already know I have a lot of growing to do.  All I could do was hope I wasn't too far off the average. 

I opened my eyes and somehow I wasn't the first name on the list.  I sighed, relieved, and knew that whatever came next would be okay.

But my name wasn't second.  Or third. 

They continued scrolling down.  And kept scrolling so long I had honestly concluded that my data must have been left out.  I literally had my hand halfway raised to alert someone to this mistake.

And then... there was my name.  At the very bottom of the list. 

Three out of my four classes showed the highest percentage of growth in the entire school, and the fourth was very close behind.  Where the school average was about 30%, my classes' scores were in the high 60th percentile.

Better than that?  My scores were some of the highest growth in the entire school district!!!!

Better than that?  This was consistent for both reading, and writing!!!

I was stunned.  So stunned I literally cried.  Not in a big, overly-dramatic way, but because I'm just so grateful that this is my talent.  That I not only get to do what I love to do, but by some miracle, I'm good at it too.  That I get to work with such incredible people, who make me better and push me to the next level.  That is a rare and wonderful gift.

It was overwhelming to see the proof - in numbers, glaring me right in the face - that I don't suck.  That maybe, in fact, on a few rare occasions, I'm just a little bit awesome. 

In no way does it mean I get to hang up my hat and call it a day.  All that growing I think I have to do?  Yeah... I still have to do it.

But in a profession where compliments are tough to come by, and the yardstick for measuring "good" teaching is all but invisible, it's also worth celebrating when there is something to celebrate.  And this, my friends?  This is definitely worth celebrating!

(And let's not go into the irony of the fact that there's an ooopsy on this poster!)

Some days are like that, even in Australia

It wasn't terrible.  It wasn't horrible.  It wasn't no good, or very bad.  It wasn't even kind of bad.  It didn't make me want to move to Australia.

It was a lovely day.  It was a fantastic weekend.  We started Music Together after a break for the summer, we ran errands, we mowed grass, we went to a fall festival that included a pony ride and petting zoo.  We had lots of Leah and Mommy time, because Daddy was working.  It was delightful.  Picturesque.  There was peach cobbler for desert.

Daddy did get to join in the fun for this part...

Most of the time, I think, "I'm fine.  There are tons of reasons to be grateful," even though things didn't end the way I wanted them to.  Most of the time, I genuinely believe that, and all I feel is ready for the next step, whenever that should arrive. 

But I almost lost it at our class.  All the babies, all the new mommies.  The lullaby that sang, "sleep, sleepy head, I will keep you safe and warm" and it reminded me that the little one I was trying to keep safe wasn't. 

There was a brief moment - a tenth of a second - where one of the other mommies asked me whether we were going to have another, and I almost told her we were pregnant.  It flashed through my mind for one joyful instant before reality sucker punched me in the gut. 

I have had to block more than one expectant mommy from my facebook page.  It's not that I mind the pregnancy stories.  In fact, there are several I am so beyond excited to hear, because I know bits and pieces of what it has cost them to make it to their pregnancies.  So of course, never, ever would I begrudge them that happiness. 

Besides, their comments are different.  They're just telling stories about being pregnant, and it's abundandly clear the gratitude they feel to get to experience even the worst, most challenging parts.  I get that. 

But the others.  The others are whining.  And I can't take it.  Not when a miracle is happening to you.  How do you find it in you to complain?  

Okay, so some parts of pregnancy suck.  Some are totally weird, and you feel like an alien has taken over your body.  I remember.  But all I really remember feeling is completely, beyond words inspired and awed that I should be that lucky.  It was a transformative experience in all ways possible, second only to the actual experience of motherhood.  It is one I can't imagine longing for and not being able to experience.  Just the thought breaks my heart. 

And yes, I recognize that I, too, am now whining.  One of the many things I feel is guilt over how much this has hurt me, and how much I wish I was just a little stronger; just a little more trusting and faithful.  I don't for one second take for granted how lucky I am, and how I have so very much more than I deserve already.

It's not the whole of my day, or even the majority of it, that I spend feeling this way.  I write because it's cheaper than therapy, and frankly, it's more effective.  I find safety and grace and catharsis in letting these brief moments of weakness pour out of me so they don't eat at me from the inside. 

So that's that.  One week down.