For the Love of Color

A fresh coat of paint made it's way onto the dining room walls yesterday. What a color it is. In the green family, a very new family for me. You see, I have never been a green girl. My world of paint color has seemed to stick in the more vibrant worlds of yellows, reds and oranges. I will never forget the first time I painted my living room red at the old house on Oaklands. It was like taking a huge tube of lipstick and watching it seep across the white walls. What a blast. I knew in that instant that I was addicted to color and the more the better, like the Halloween orange in my livingroom here on High Street. I remember Emma and I looking at the samples and wanting to go for it, but being nervous it was too much. After the initial strokes, there was no turning back and I have loved it everyday since.

You know time is passing when you paint the first room in the house that you painted when you first moved in. The dining room was the first canvas I dared to touch because so many of the colors in the house were very muted, pastelly and while they are not something I would have picked, I loved them...and still do. And the reason I felt I could do this room because it was clearly the one room that the woman who lived here before us, was unable to get to. It was still clad in a heavy, dark, maroon wallpaper that was so out of step with the rest of the house that flowed from room to room so beautifully. Even half of the woodwork was only done, leaving the dark heavy mantel and china cabinet next to the white woodwork of the windows. In a sense I felt the need to do that room, to finish the work that Jackie was never able to.

You see, Jackie still lives here too. Jackie raised her five year old son in this house. Jackie died in this house. From cancer. She also made sure we lived here, but that is another story. This one is of color and the choice I made yesterday would be very high on her list of selections. In fact, I would even venture to say that she helped lead me to this color. Greens...tough for one who is not naturally drawn to them I again went through the process and put various samples up on the walls. What I thought I wanted did not seem to be out there. So I started a survey and asked everyone who went through to give their vote and EVERY person picked the same one. And so that was it! I went to the paint store, bought a gallon of Benjamin Moore's Croquet, knowing if it was horrible I could always paint over it.

Glorious I tell you. Simply glorious!! The room is transformed into an elegant space that I am so excited to decorate with all natural elements. I want to create several pieces myself to give it that David Bromsted feeling that stamps it as my own. (You must be a HGTV junkie to know what I am talking about here!! LOVE Color Splash!) And as I envision my pieces I only hope that my skills will be able to keep up with what I am seeing in my mind's eye. Either way the excitement at the thought of creating is enough to get me a bit giddy! I am an idea person. I love ideas and have gotten to the point where I realize the ideas are so much fun that if I don't get to follow through with them then that is okay...because that creative processing piece gives me pause and I just LOVE that part of it all. Follow through is where I am always lacking, but again...we are talking about color here!!

So, on top of all of this is the woodwork, which is where this whole project started. I have always wanted to paint over the woodwork, but have avoided it like the plague because it is SO much work! So my Mom volunteered to do that and well...this dining room project was born. And that is where this project still is. Much woodwork to be done, but that first impact of a whole new fresh coat of paint is just like nothing else! God I love change and this green thing might be something to stick with! In celebration of such a move I even bought myself a pair of green sloggers...gardening clogs! NEVER before would I have picked green. Colors are part of who we are and where we are at that given point in time. Gone is the bright happy yellow from those dining room walls and in with the serene, calming, oh so elegant touch of croquet. So I say hello green. And is there a theme? I am actually gardening and enjoying it for the first time, and doing the weekly Farmer's Market CSA with SO much green coming into the house once a week it is a scramble to figure out what to do with it all, but hey...green is in. It is fashionable...it is hip and apparently, so am I!! Go green!

Barely 8 o"clock

It is barely 8 o'clock
and I have been to the beach
walked the dog
talked from the heart
listened with the soul
had precious time
with a dear old sole

Moving with the
fog...adding to
the community art project
of beach "trash"
Ushering in the day
with the waves on my heels
toes in the sand
ahhhh......breathe

It is barely 8 o'clock
I have sent off the
almost 100 riders of
the Granite State Quest
off to conquer the 100
miles that lie ahead of them

I have listened to the doc
in tight bicycle shorts
from Mass General
say that when he was born
most children died of cancer
I heard him say that today...
75 - 80 % of them are cured.
Tears start to form
Amazement and gratitude
seep through my being
as Emma's face flashes in my
head...I see Patricia
and time stands still
for just a moment.
She has been there for it
all. So much more
than a nurse practitioner.

It is barely 8 o'clock
I arrive back home
to sleeping teenagers
those damned birds still
trilling and tra la laing
in the day
what orchestra thrives
in those trees out back.

Feeling full.
Feeling hope.
More than despair
Ride on GSQers
Right on Dear old friend.
Looking forward to yet
another walk and talk
a "twalk" on the beach
with you

It is barely 8 o'clock
and my intention is to make
this sacred morning time
a part of my every day
for in the getting up
in the getting out
I cannot lie in my
own head
in my own bed
and worry the day away

Early morning time
there is no other time
quite like it.
A gentleness lies in
each minute as the day
begins to crack open
the sun yawns over the horizon
It is barely 8 o'clock
I am off to yoga
hello day...

A Bit More of Me...

Today is the first day
in an infinitely
long line of days
I have woken up
and recognized a
bit
more of
me

Settling into a summer-kind-of
morning pace
coffee
computer
water the flowers
meditate
yoga and
now the day can begin

green paint
on the dining room walls
waiting to be chosen and
given life.

beds that need to be weeded
house that needs to be cleaned
not overwhelming
just a summer pace
knowing I will get to it when
I
get
to
it

or not.

the cacophony of
birds trifling in the day
makes me pause
slow down
wonder creeps back into my being
where have you been
dear sweet wonder?

less flat
less crying
keeping the demons at bay
for today

it is good
it is all good
glad to see you
again...me

it has been too long
I have missed you
even if you are just a
bit more of me.
I will take it.

Rest in Peace Mae and a CSA

I am joining a CSA called Stout Oak Farm and the farmer herself is Kate Donald, although she will always be Katie Sullivan to me. We first met many many years ago at Greenfield Farm in New London, NH where I taught horseback riding lessons and she was one of my students. She was a sassy little thing who would not take anything from anyone be it human or animal. I liked Katie right off, her spirit, her determination and fire and all at such a young age. I can still see her in her tan britches, tall black boots and her pony tail bobbing from left to right, stomping off with great conviction in an effort to get whatever it was she wanted or needed.

Fast forward about 20 years and I walk into the Blue Moon for lunch one day and this gorgeous woman, still with that long gorgeous ponytail, behind the counter asks, "Are you Tomasen?"

"Yes....," I reply searching the recesses of my grey matter to try to pinpoint just if and how I know this person.

"I am Katie Sullivan, you used to teach me horseback riding lessons and I owned Mae."

Ding, ding, ding the pinball in my brain rolled around each cortex making connections left and right leaving a shining array of colorful recognitions and memories behind. I smiled. Katie!! Yes, Katie.

You see, Mae (aka: Greenfield Farm's Maple Sugar) was my horse at Greenfield Farm. A feisty registered morgan that Kathy and Larry "gave me" to break and ride and train as my own as part of the deal for working and essentially living on the farm. I saw Mae come into the world in the most beautiful luminescent sac of magic, saw her stand up within minutes and saw the look of spirit in her eyes as she stared into mine and wobbled around the stall. Mae had a mind of her own from that very first day. I was the first one on Mae's back, the first to lunge her, the first to stroke her, the first to feed her from my hand, the first to show her (which she hated by the way) the first to do everything with her. There was a bond between us like no other I have ever experienced.

So, when it was time for me to go off to college, leaving her seemed impossible. Kathy and Larry called up some old friends at Merri-Lee farm in Lee and had Mae transferred there so that I could ride her. I would borrow someone's car or jump on my bike clad in riding boots and britches and ride over to be with my horse. But, Mae was not happy there and the times that I could actually get to the barn became less and less. The places to ride were difficult terrain and Mae, it seemed, missed her family and her home at Greenfield Farm. She was clearly pissed off that my visits were so far and few between. She became obstinate, trying to throw me at every turn. The fire in her eyes now had a red anger to them as well. After one semester, she went back home and they decided to breed her.

I will never forget the night I got the phone call in the middle of the night that Mae was in labor. My barn buddy Jen and I jumped in her yellow tinged Maverick and drove all the way up Route 4 from UNH to see Gus arrive just as we did. Magic again I tell you. Sheer magic. Life. Amazing.

Not long after, or maybe even before that, Katie bought Mae as her very own. I remember feeling jealous at first. Not sure that anyone but ME should own Mae, but I also remembered that spirit and realized they were perfect for each other. Katie, a good 6 or 7 years younger than me, had the time to be with Mae and work with her and be with her when I could not.

So how do I get from Mae to a CSA? Kate is now leasing her own farm and has been at the Farmer's Market for several years, but THIS is the year I have been waiting for as she has also created a CSA and I am in! I am excited to support Kate in her lifelong dream and to be a part of healthy living, supporting a local and blessed farmer and to eat locally. You know the drill...ALL great stuff!!

A rainy Thursday, a slow farmer's market, I stop by and find Katie under her tent surrounded by her beautiful bounty. She tells me this is the year she is selling shares in her crops. We chat, exchange information and then a wash of sadness crosses her face. "Mae died." she tells me as tears filled her eyes. We reminisce about the life of leisure Mae retired to up on the mountain right above my sisters house. "She lived a long life" and we figured she was probably about 36 years old. Could that even be? Or was it 32? Whatever it was, she lived a long life, a beautiful life and she was loved. Kate speaks about her last owner who loved Mae as we did. We exchange a look of sadness, a knowing that we were lucky to have shared an incredible experience with an incredible animal. Loss...yes and at the same time a bit of celebration for the long happy life and the new connection Kate and I will now have. From Greenfield Farm to Stout Oak Farm. Rest in Peace Mae. You were loved deeply by two very eager young girls in britches and forgotten you will never be.
draft
9:13:00 AM

Honoring Sadness

There is a sadness lurking around me
Seeking to creep in and overtake me
with his long heavy arms and dark eyes

It begins with a feeling of fatigue
one that makes you say "no" to
all that is happening around you.
No to yoga.
No to the daily dog walking
No to the beach
No to it all...
because you know that no matter
what is tried...it will linger.

A sadness so profound that I don't
know where to hide it, where to
put it, what to do with it and yet
I feel it in every limb of my body
every muscle that connects my bones
it is living and breathing off of me.

It is a sadness bathed in glory as
it signifies the changes in life
that must come.

Good changes, hard changes.
Changes.

I am so tired.
There is not enough sleep
to cure this exhaustion as
each day moves into the next.
Today, even the sunshine
wanes and loses the fight.

I try to discover a sense of beauty
peace and wellness....to eat right,
to exercise, to try to overcome what is
trying to overcome me, but today I am
losing. Today I give. I am too tired to fight.
I don't want to fight anymore.

And so I will be one with the sadness today
and allow it to live it's life through me
as it must do with the faith that this too
will pass and understanding it is all
part
of
the
process.

Honoring sadness
counter-intuitive
yet a necessary
process
of
accepting and living
with
loss...

This Son of Mine

This son of mine...

It is 4 am I cannot sleep
thinking of this son of mine.
"He is so friendly" the other Mom's
tell me of my son out and around town.
"He speaks to me and it is from the heart."
I smile inside and out
so proud of this son of mine.

He is incredibly talented,
this son of mine and when he
puts his mind to something
there is no stopping him.
Researching the latest technology
in equipment, starting up his own business
he is resourceful, invested, inventive, artistic...
he amazes me, this son of mine.

"He is lazy" they tell me
of this son of mine.
and I cringe thinking they
do not know him.
"Academics are not his interest" they say.
Judging him without taking
any shared responsibility.
What they don't see is the brilliance
in this son of mine.
In fact, I am not sure they see him
at all.

It is a system, broken, that seems
to take down everyone in it's wake.
One who is this son of mine.
and as a mother my heart breaks
knowing that there is little I can do
to save this son of mine, part of
a sinking ship, untouchable, very far
out to sea


"We are losing him." they tell her
of this son of hers.
"I know and that is why I am here..."
"Have you considered private schools?"
they ask her.
Their only solution for yet another
brilliant son of hers.
She has five children she has been
in for meetings all year long
She asks me...
What else can she do
with this son of hers?

And so I too will go in for yet
another meeting around the big table
where they
will share more choice cliches about
this son of mine
and I will again defend this son
of mine for who he is.
An amazing mind that finds work
takes on challenges
creates projects
and is engaged in thinking
everywhere in the world, except within
the four walls of school
Comic tragedy
this son of mine

These sons of ours
will be successful
because they have figured things
out that took me years.
They do not buy into working solely for a grade
Without purpose they are not
motivated to do any more than what
is necessary to
get
by.
And get by they will
these sons of ours...

But still it keeps me up
at night, imagining a system
that would embrace these boys
and work with them to use their
minds
and be done with simply
biding their time
biding his time
a year at a time
a year at a time
a year at a time
a year at a time
this son of mine.

My Latest Poem...

Silence, Stillness
The world’s eyes opening
Squinting
And stretching before my eyes

The sacred yawn of morning
Brings a solitude of newness
A feeling of hope, renewal, and life.

The woods, my magical forest
With twinkling eyes winking
Surrounding me as we
Usher in the day as one.

Just one of those days....

Today was just one of those days...it started out rather bumpy, but once I got past that I just let it flow. My only plans were a series of orthodontist and dentist appointments for the kids and myself. A got a run in with Emma and the dog, showered and then was off to the next appointment. All done and scratched off the list by 3. What to do with the rest of the day? Three o'clock in the summer is so different than three in the winter. Had it been December or the dead of January I would have literally been counting the dark minutes so that I could get myself into my pajamas for the night. But 3 in the dead of summer allows you another entire day of daylight and living. What to do?

Bike to the Farmer's market of course. I put my basket on my wicked witch of the west bike and Emma and I headed to town. It was a glorious day with a sky the color of the most delicious blue with clouds sweeping in and out of it's brilliance. I love sitting upright on my bike and looking around and just taking in everything all around me. I know I look ridiculous, but I am just so damned content, like feeling as though I am 10 again. We sailed into town and took a sharp right to go down the rest of the way on the riverside. We live in such a gorgeous town and as I pedaled along the boardwalk I lamented that I did not do this everyday. How is it that something so unique can be so forgotten? How is it that I allow life to pass me by in a series of to do's, child pick-ups, and the general laundry of everyday life? Well...no more.

My motto this summer is to be on "Island Time" even though we are not going to Martha's Vineyard this year for the first time in years. It is an experience in the ultimate "staycation". I decorated my kitchen like a beach house with beach prints, photos I have taken from past trips to the Vineyard, shells and rocks and seaweed. I am getting to the beach as much as possible and today, I incorporated the biking piece that is such a large part of our time on the Vineyard. And you know what? It was awesome!! I biked with island eyes and tried to really look at the town I live in that I barely even see everyday as I drive through it. Emma and I picked out all the best produce and stopped at our local Serendipity here in town, one of our all time favorites so that Emma could end her quest for the perfect wallet!! I wandered in behind her and saw my friend Mary who makes jewelry and works at the store. She had brought in a fresh shipment of her own stuff. I commented on the gorgeous necklace she was wearing and went on my way to help Emma.

And then I turned and saw it. A necklace like the one Mary was wearing, but in MY colors. I walked over, grabbed it up and put it on. It was made for me. I did not need the necklace, I mean do you ever NEED a necklace? In general I am not even a regular necklace-wearer, and this one was unlike ANYTHING I had ever worn before. It was big and chunky and made out of what appeared to be stones. The center stone was as blue as the sky I admired as I was biking in. I HAD to have this necklace. It even perfectly matched the earrings I happened to have put on that morning. There was no doubt that I would own this beauty, but the price, the price forced me to put it back and walk away only to return to it and put it back on, never to be removed as I walked out of the store with the bargain of the century. I bartered with myself and remembered that if I was on the Vineyard I would have allowed myself this luxury! And so I knew it would be mine!! I was on staycation afterall!! Little did I know I would fall under the "family and friends" plan of my dear friend Mary. That and the fact that is WAS 20% off Ladies night!! Bargain! And so I sit here and think about how elegant I felt biking home with this gorgeous piece of art hanging around my neck. Sheer indulgence!! I was glowing in the day, my necklace and laughing at my basket stock full of local eggs the color of a rainbow, fresh local produce complete with the luscious green Kale sticking out the top.

I wish my life felt this way everyday. It does not. Just knowing it could makes it all seem simply wonderful. So I came home and created the most beautiful meal with all of my fabulous produce and I sit here, the perfect end to the second half of a perfect summer day sipping pinot grigio and writing it all down. It doesn't get any better that this...does it?

And yet it ends...as the 14 year old boys enter my house brimming with testosterone and brace myself for the sleep over and try not to worry that Emma is out there with my car at the movies and dinner with a friend!! And although I find myself feeling content at the moment...I am also reminded of long summer nights and yearn for that freedom once again. In the meantime...the wine tastes just fine!! Anyone wanna join me?

Just thinking.....

Birthdays and Deathdays...

My weekend consisted of a friend's 50th surprise birthday party and my own birthday of turning 45. At these celebrations there was talk of deathdays. One of our most renowned educational professors at UNH died a month ago and the very young age of 58. One minute he was here and the next he was gone. To know Grant Cioffi was to love Grant. He was one of those very soft-spoken "gentlemen" who I was privileged to know as a student, as a teacher in his hometown of Barrington, as well as one of his son's, Rob's third grade teacher and later on as a colleague at UNH. Thinking back on my connection with Grant I realize he was one of the first people who I met that really challenged me to think professionally. I first met him again in the local elementary school where he had volunteered as a parent to be on a committee where we were looking at what was happening with our struggling readers. Having Grant join us in this notched it up several levels as we delved deeply into the minds and hearts of these readers who just had a hard time. I remember feeling energized by his challenging and thoughtful questions. I remember loving to think and work together to figure these kids out!!

At my friends party she told me that someone spoke at his service and talked about how Grant took her face one day and told her to "listen with your face." And that is exactly what Grant did! He listened with his face, responding and listening intently to every word, storing it away for the next time you met. And when you did see him, be it weeks or years later he would always remember how many children you had and where you were working and what you last talked about. He had a gift for listening...really listening...

And yet...as we spoke of him in the past, I felt a great remorse at not having been able to attend his service that was "beautiful" as accounted for by anyone I asked!! Hitting 45 was not a big deal for me because it simply stated that I had made it another year!! As my birthday approached I did meditate one day and had a vision of my own birth. Through the canal and then thrust into my mother's arms. Once there I envisioned looking up at my mother's face and seeing sadness, pure and utter remote and distant sadness. I am convinced my mother suffered from postpartum depression, but what a strange image to pop into my head. It kept me thinking and wondering and then wondering some more.

Emma and I spent a week in Hilton Head and everywhere we went, every store we went into we kept hearing the lyrics, "Live like you're dying..." and we laughed and wondered...are we? And what does that really mean? Are we living like we are dying? Capturing every moment and cherishing it the way we need to? I can honestly say that no, I do not. I do not in the way that I wish I did!!

And so on my birthday I decided that the day was going to be about doing just that. Loving and living in a way that embraced life not for it's grandiose gifts and gestures...but more for just what it is!! I woke up when I felt like it, and had coffee and sat in the sun sipping it. Breakfast was made for me..yummy eggs and toast and then there were no plans! And I was fine with that!! The day was a gorgeous one. The kind of day that makes you want to run to the mountains to hike or to the beach to walk and soak up all the sun! We talked about all of these ideas, but instead I decided to walk the dog and go for a run with Emma and Ruby. It was simply delightful!! We met some friends and chatted and savoured the fresh air and sunshine. Then we came back and I took a long shower without rushing!! It was certainly something that felt just right!!

Eventually we did leave the house and drove into the sunshine with no particular destination in mind!! We ended up at the beach and had a fabulous linner st Ron's Landing in Hampton with an incredible view of the ocean. We are so lucky to have this in our backyard!! A bit of champagne and good food and company and well...another birthday passes with great moments where I really and truly was in the moment. And of course it was a day where nobody was allowed to utter the word "no" to me!! That is sheer heaven. And the effort my kids put forth to make this happen was humorous, especially Zachary as he would be about to say no and then realize he had no choice! Oh the restrain!!!

And as I go into my 45th year here on this earth I am reminded, yet again, of how truly blessed I am with wonderful people in my life! Be they old friends or new, my kids, my family, my colleagues that they are what matter most. (And if you are not of Facebook then this is a great way to be reminded of those incredible people in your life!!) And as I reflect on life, on birth and on death I realize once again and I learn once again that it is in these tiny moments, like when Emma wrapped up a toy Jeep for me to open as her gift for me. (Yes, I have been on the path to wanting a third car, a bum around jeep that Em could take to school and I could drive along the beach!!) Yes, these small moments that so often get overridden with the minutiae of life. What amazes me is that no matter how many times I learn this lesson I know that I will forget it as quickly and so that is why we are reminded in life and in death that we are here for the living, as part of the living and so you better just get out there and "live like you're dying!" Beach anyone?

Just thinking....

Moving Furniture....

I have been working on getting my surroundings into spring mode. There is nothing more enjoyable for me than to find a new arrangement of furniture in a room! I LOVE change and this is one of those quick fixes that I can do to make my life seem less the "same", less "routine". And so this spring I have decided to try an "interim" look that allows me to keep the nice rug in my kitchen longer than usual. As I switch out the dark furniture for the summer wicker from my bedroom I usually drag in the summer sisal from the dining room and make the exchange. This, my friends, is NO easy task!! Getting everything off of both rugs without running out of room is the greatest challenge and the truth is that this year the summer sisal is on it's last leg with doggie mud footprints forever brandishing it's corners. I take down the faux chocolate brown floor length curtains and expose myself to the world, letting in all of the light possible.

So, as I sit here on this rainy day in my "new" room relishing the change I am forced to wonder why I had never thought of this arrangement before!! And the thing is that once I change a room I want to be in that room more than any other!

You might think this is a hormonal thing, and while you can predict it according to the cycles of the moon...I am also convinced it is hereditary. Yes, you heard me correctly...hereditary!! I got it from my mother. I can remember times spent in my room on hot summer nights where we would move around the furniture and organize everything in my room. This one time I remember, I must have been about 10 and we moved my desk right in front of the open screen window. I LOVED this as the cool summer night wafted it's way into my stale room. I recall just sitting there and wishing that I had something worth writing about, because it was, the perfect writing spot!! I had nothing to write, but I did sit and doodle and pretend to write!! I remember a warmth that was peaceful as my Mom and I worked together within the space, a rare moment with a Mom that never once sat still throughout my entire childhood!

Whenever we rent a house with the larger family, the first thing we do is rearrange the furniture. My mother is the queen of this and has impeccable spacial prowess!! In fact, she can be downright tough if she walks in and observes my changes, puts on an awkward smile and says something like, "interesting...", meaning it is WRONG! I tell her to leave it alone and that it is my therapy and that she can do what she wants in her own house. But here is the thing. If she mentions one thing or another I start obsessing about it and continue to move things until I get it right. There is an art to this!! Everything has to be balanced in some way and well..in this room...conducive to conversation! I HATE it when she does that...but in the end I do end up liking my changes even more...

And the line does not stop there. Zachary was home from school sick last Friday and in an effort to keep him off of that damned Call of Duty video game we decided to rearrange his room. I, of course, was delighted!! We spent much of the day taking down the homemade loft that was built when we first moved in. He LOVES his new room and has barely left it all week. After a day of change his mood improved and all of those teenage woes disappeared...if even for a few hours. (He was home "sick" because of crap at school...another whole story!!)

And even Emma will come to me asking to change her room around because she too loves how the change feels!! When I do this with my kids I get such a good clean feeling inside and out!! And every time you change it you breathe new life into the space whether it has been that way in the past or not. And after the long NH winters, change and renewal is something we all need and long for!! And as I sit here and ponder this hereditary homage of movement and change I also contemplate in my new spring kitchen whether or not to start the fire, for although the forsythia are out, the damp, cold, raw rain has returned, but inside my kitchen it IS spring and it will remain spring...at least until summer arrives!!

Just thinking....

Easter Sunday 2010

Each passing holiday and tradition brings with it a bittersweet sorrow as of late because as the mother of two teenagers the "good ole days" have gone by. Gone are the days of the Easter bunny coming and leaving trails and trails of jellybeans all over the floor and eggs hidden all over the house, some to be discovered a week later only by their persistent smell. Gone are the days of great surprises and that look of sheer childhood joy at the magic of seeing an Easter basket filled with goodies just for them as visions of this big bunny coming in and hopping all over your house. Emma told me a while back she was relieved the Easter bunny was never real because the thought of a life size bunny coming into her house was kinda creepy! And it is if you think about it!!

And although these days are replaced by different days, I find them to be harder days. It seems as though my life has become a series of decisions where no matter what I do there is ultimately someone who is unhappy! I have left the world of magic and possibilities and entered into one of constant negotiation and hormones and quite truthfully it has left me anything but playful! I LOVED all of the things you could do to get those reactions out of those little faces! I love the idea that life is full of wonder and surprise and play.

And as much as I try to maintain that level of playfulness the truth is that it does get the best of me and I find myself saying things that I don't mean to say and doing things that I don't want to do...all in the name of trying to figure out how to keep everyone safe and happy...okay...maybe not happy but at least not miserable!! And while I know that part of being a teenager is going through mood swings and misery the truth is that I just don't LIKE it!!

And so in an effort to keep things playful and full of possibilities I have created a treasure hunt this morning for the kids...who by the way, are STILL in bed!! Again...remember the days when they were jumping on your bed at 6 a.m. all hopped up on chocolate? (Allright...maybe I don't miss that as much!!) And although I have done this I can already "see" the potential for danger!! For at the end of the hunt will be something that will please one more than the other and although I know this I move forward hoping to see at least one smile on each face...if even only for a moment where I can be reminded of the children in them that once held wonder in their eyes...

And yet, tis the season of rebirth so perhaps embracing this next phase is what I need to do. Stop living in the past and embrace the present...yes this I can do...but of course I just needed to first grieve. It is all a part of the process.

Happy Easter Everyone!

Just Thinking....

Eating Alone...

I was flying home yesterday from doing a writing workshop in Rochester, New York and had a couple of hours to kill in Philly. Philly is NOT my favorite airport as you always have to shuttle bus from one terminal to the other on a bus with drivers who have virtually no sense of safety as they whip around the runways dodging those little carts and drivers towing luggage to large airplanes backing out ready for take off.

One of my bus rides was so harrowing I considered if there were alternatives to getting to the other terminal on my return home. The woman packed the bus with more people than is humanly imaginable. She kept yelling at me to move away from the door and the steel post that I was planning on hanging onto...what she did NOT seem to realize what that there was NOWHERE to go!! As people jammed in next to me I found a loophold that I could grab above me...waaay above me, but it was better than nothing. The thing is when you are holding a loophole you get swept side to jerking side as this woman whipped around a tarmac that had no boundaries. At one point was supposed to stop at the corner of the terminal where there was clearly a STOP sign posted. She proceeded to ignore it and careen around the corner with great speed almost picking off a man on a tractor. They both laughed as we narrowly escaped grazing each other. Ahhh...I thought. THIS is their entertainment. Playing chicken on a blind corner with a busload of stupid people versus the luggage guys. C'mon. Would I ever get off this bus alive?

And of course I did...but I was sweating and all stiff from desperately trying to stay on my two feet!! And so I was thinking more about this bus ride than what I would do with a two hour layover when I found myself in the correct terminal with nowhere to go. You see I was so early that my gate was filled with people for another flight to Vegas and it was packed! I knew I wanted something to eat. I quickly spotted an restaurant with sit down and wait service and decided this was better than the alternative..to get something take out and eat it off my lap, spilling it all over me as I had done on the way there!!

I sat down at a table in the very back of the restaurant so that I could look out and observe and not be observed. I sat down and thought about the fact that I was here, alone and ordering wine and pad Thai. It made me think of the many times I have been out to eat and noticed those "poor souls" who were eating alone and how I would feel sorry for them. Pi-shaw...what a major lesson in projection that is!! I was here sitting alone and reveling in it!! I was nobody to feel sorry for! I was out the world travelling...which I LOVE and had just had a great day of incredible conversation with a brilliant colleague. No, I was not the sorry lady at the back of the restaurant, but the confident woman who had finally grown up!! Imagine that...about to turn 45 and more than comfortable taking up a table just for myself!!

It made me wonder just how many of those people I had "felt" for were feeling just fine with their solitary eating and that I was the one who would have been uncomfortable. We choose so often to put ourselves into the position of others...at least I do as a self-admitted people watching addict...but with that we bring ourselves and imagine how "we" would be feeling. Perhaps all of my observations over the years are simply projections of me and who I am and where I am and what I am experiencing at the time. And can you think of anything more egocentric than that? And so I wondered how others would respond to the idea of eating alone and the responses posted on facebook were all over the book from scary to peaceful to "out of my comfort zone" and it makes me wonder...just how different we all are and as much as we all want to think we are alike and part of this human experience we call life...that we really could be not more different!!

And THAT is why I love to travel! It takes me out of my life and puts me out into the world to consider others and their lives. I am fascinated by people and how they work and operate. As for me...I will look carefully the next time I see someone sitting alone at a table and wonder...what are they really thinking or feeling....

Just thinking...

Thanksgiving...that was forever ago...

I can't believe that the last time I thought I had something interesting to say was Thanksgiving!! I am sure I have been involved in many interesting conversations in my head and yet none of them made their way onto this screen! Oh the shame. Oh the loss of those thoughts gone and abandoned forever!! What to do, what to do...

This whole world of blogging boggles me because it is as though you "think" you have an audience and yet you are still really only writing for yourself. If you actually want readers you have to solicit them and well...for me...that just feels plain weird sometimes!

And so I wonder...is there a way to make this blogging more meaningful to me so that it is something that I can and will actually keep up with? And an even better question is whether or not I even want to!!

My goal for this blog has been a holding place of the things I write about that I don't think I want to get rid of or there is just something I like about it!! That said, I have followed other people's blogs, but mostly as a way to stay in touch with them without really even being in touch. My sister and my niece come to mind. They are part of my morning ritual when I sit at the almighty glowing screen each morning with my cup of coffee. I check my e-mail, my nings, the day's weather, the local paper and The New York Times and then these two blogs. Just all a part of the plan. And yes, of course, as of late Facebook has also made its way into the mix!! The problem is that the more things I find on line the more coffee I find that I need!! Perhaps I it is time to streamline my morning ritual and find a way to get the information I want and need without taking a good two cups of coffee to do it. And yet, it is a very nice waking up thing for me!! What used to be the paper is now just a conglomeration of wonderful and not so wonderful things to read!! Of course then there is this new site I have found called Stumble Upon that one of of my students told me about. Can you say addictive time sucker? C'mon I know you can!!

But I limit my time on stumble!! The thing is that I always seem to find something there that I just have to send to someone else and for me that still takes time!! And so as I try to figure out my place in this techno saavy world I realize it is all around me all of the time and I am as hooked up as anyone else!! And in some ways I like that.

But of course then there are the times when my morning ritual leaves me flat and wanting more. This is especially true if my sister and my niece have not blogged, none of my students have ninged and well...there is virtually nothing interesting on Facebook. That is when I look for more, more, more and with that thought perhaps I will just post this and then I will be able to say that I had something to today and not last Thanksgiving!! Sheesh!!

Just Thinking....

Thanksgiving Poem...

A THANKSGIVING BLESSING

May we be aware not of the things we lack,
but of all that we have.

May we feel not the absence of those we love,

but the presence of those who love us.

May we see not just the harshness of our world,

but the gentleness of its mystery.

May we know not the cold of despair,
but the warmth of hope rising.

May we speak not of our hurts and losses,

but of our healings and blessings.

May we be with each other not in the shadows of the past,

but in the light of the present.

May we bring to our table not judgment, resentment, or anger,

but acceptance, compassion, and forgiveness.

May we remember to feed our spirit by living out of thankfulness.

Anonymous

Nightmares Becomes Reality

Have you ever had those dreams where you forget to show up for class for a big test because you overslept? Or shown up naked and not realized it until everyone was staring at you? That happened to Emma this morning. This year she has taken it upon herself to set her alarm and get up on her own. The past two years she has diligently left a post it on the outside of her door indicating the time she would like to be woken. New year, no post its.

And so this morning, a Saturday morning, I was sleeping in when it occurred to me that I had not heard the rumblings of anyone getting ready for school. I rolled over and realized it was close to 8, but that certainly Em was up and gone. My heart sank when I saw her door closed. I walked over, opened it hoping to see and empty bed, but instead I saw my sleeping beauty. I walked in waked her and her face went white when she realized that not only had she not gotten there early for extra time on her test, but that she was not there at all...and it was AFTER 8...the official start time of her test.

I told her to get ready and I went and made her a quick piece of toast and we got her there as quick as possible. I sent her with a note and not soon after she called me in tears. She was so freaked out about the entire thing. She told me through broken sobs that he was going to let her take it later today when she has a free period. I knew he would, but for a child who never does anything wrong, this was devastating to her. And yet, as I listened to her sob and tell me the story from the other end of the line I realized this was probably a painful, but good lesson for her. Nobody is perfect and that mistakes can be dealt with. She has never even been late to class, never mind being late for a test.

And as I write this I realize just how lucky I really am. At one a.m. this morning I was awakened by the sounds of a bunch of kids outside my window. I knew one of the voices and could not imagine what this 13 year old was doing out on High Street at one in the morning!! I panicked for a minute as I got out of bed and realized his mother was pulling up next to the group. I heard rumblings of the word police and then a male voice telling the kids to get home. My heart went out to that mother. She is in trouble with a capital T. And that is what comes of never setting boundaries for your kid. He runs the show and now the games have changed. I have to call her this morning. I know he is hanging with kids who are trying things, even though Zach assures me that they have "quit" smoking pot...everyone knows they have. I am mortified that they had something to actually "quit" as 8th graders, but I also know when I was growing up that there were kids trying it then. Times have not changed that much, but now I am the mother and it is different in SO many ways!! This is one of my worst nightmares...not knowing where my kid is at one in the morning.

Another mother in the neighborhood called me earlier in the evening to tell me that her son, who is a freshman, had invited a girl over who was "white trash" and that they were alone in their rec room and what should she do? I said she should be happy that her son was breaking out of his shell...but again...how do we let go and not want to make everything right and at the same time allow them to make mistakes that they can and will learn from?

Just thinking....gotta call my neighbor!

Life is Easy....

June 11, 2009 Poetry Project

“Life is hard.”
Is what I have always been taught
And with that lesson comes the awareness that
I must struggle.
That everyone struggles
In the light of the sun and the moon
There are moments of ease, but for the most part
It is about enduring the pain, the suffering and sacrifice.

“It is supposed to be easy” I am told today.
Life…easy? Must be an oxymoron she replies.
Just must be.
Life is not easy…it used to be easier, but with each passing
Moment she wonders…is she making it hard for herself?
Yes, she replies as her mother did and her mother did before that.
Is this what she wants for her daughter? Sacrifice? Suffering? Pain?
No…it is not. And so it is today she tells herself
Today that she shall begin the journey with a new thought
That it is easy. If we give in and accept life, she sees,
That life can be there to be easy, to be enjoyed and not simply endured.
Yes, she said, I like that.
Me too herself replied.

Practice,practice, practice....makes...

I find myself searching for times to take extra trips to the grocery store, to the park or just anywhere because Emma needs to get in 40 hours, yes, that is what I said, 40 hours of driving under her belt before she can even think about going for her license. Now let's think about that...really. That means that essentially she has to drive about 2000 miles...in the next 5 weeks. And that would be at a good clip of a good 65 mph. This new requirement, just doubled from the 20 hours that many of her friends had a hard time getting in. How would we find 40 extra hours in lives?

Emma has been driving since she turned 15 and a half in January, but with icy conditions, snowstorms and a very busy schedule, her daily drive to school and back was not exactly packing in the hours. 5 to 7 minutes to school and the same coming home. Can I count more time if we find a traffic jam and just sit in it? For each time she drives she has to enter not only the time, but also any "special" skills she worked on at the time. We are getting good at it, lane changes, night driving, parking, merging and well...the list goes on.

What this does force us to do is to be very aware of all of the things a driver does do. And although I am not opposed to this idea of practice, in fact I am very much in favor of it as I have seen Emma become so much more confident behind the wheel each time we get into the car. I can appreciate the state's devotion to practice as the one thing that will make her and any kid a better driver. Thank goodness because they are all going to be on the road with us!

And like anything, I see young drivers behind the wheel all of the time now. It is like when you are pregnant, every thing you see, hear and touch is baby, baby, baby. It even seems as though the commercials on TV change to be sure to include your current situation. But the reality is that that is where my brain is and so I am keenly aware as I sit on my front porch and see the Kenney's van go by, go to wave and then realize that behind the wheel I see long dark hair flowing in the wind as Eliza, one of Em's best friend go flying by. And it stops me for a moment. Soon there will be all of those kids that were just in kindergarten behind the wheel driving, driving driving.

The first day Emma started Driver's Ed, I dropped her off feeling anxious and very nervous. She was sure she would not know anyone and as the crowd assembled outside the driver's ed classroom I flashed back to this same group of kids standing on the playground at Main Street School waiting to be assigned to the right lines as they began their first days at kindergarten. Seeing time pass you by in the form of another human being is quite astounding.

When I look at Emma I see her there...but at other times I see her at 3. Pudgy little hands, a head of wild curly red hair and a mouth that never stopped talking. I can even feel her hand in mine as she would skip beside me on our way into the grocery store. Those same hands, now bigger than mine, are on the steering wheel. The wheel where she needs to spend 40 hours in the next 5 weeks!

And so I go off here...but my point was supposed to be that I am amazed that when it comes to something we do physically, the idea of practice, practice and more practice is the standard practice, but when it comes to intellectual development in our public schools it is all about...not time to practice, we have got to move on to the next thing.

What if that were the case with driver's ed? Sorry kids...no time for you to be behind the wheel because the amount of things we have to cover had doubled, tripled even and so we need to move quickly as you sit in your seats and I throw all of this information at you, but sorry, no time to practice.

What would we have on our hands but a pool of grossly inadequate, inexperienced drivers on our roads...but that doesn't happen because we all know and can see the difference in time spent. Will they still be inexperienced? Hell yea, but much less so than if they had to do this without the practice.

Emma has yet to get on the highway. I remember what that was like for me and I lived up in the sticks off of 89 where there were no other cars on the highway. Here, to get onto 101 or 95 is absolutely going to be a harrowing experience and one that we need to try to do soon, but not until she is ready.

I asked her yesterday on our trip to Staples if she wanted to try getting on 101 and going one exit on the highway to which she responded, sure...but how do I do that? As I started to tell her I could see her knuckles tighten on the steering wheel and her nerves increase. I stopped and asked, for fear of my own life and hers, if maybe she wanted to do it another time. She replied immediately, "yes". She was just not ready. And I can appreciate that and wait. Wait for her to find the confidence she needs to feel she can do it and not be a nervous wreck! And me too!
And I haven't even talked about what it is like to be in the passengers seat, but that is a whole other blog!!


And so I leave you with one thought...when is the last time your child was given the opportunity to read as homework. Just read, or write for practice? When was the last time that something was done in the name of practice and not just for a grade. Practice allows us the time we need to get ready for the "big show". It allows for mistakes, mishaps and risk-taking. If everything out kids do is a final end game, then where is the time for the practice? We have lost our way in education more than I can even think about. We have lost our way and sometimes I am not sure we are going to find our way back, but in the end we need to remember and not ever forget that the best measure of making progress is time spent doing something over and over, in different ways, over and over and over. And although I have no idea HOW we are going to find 40 hours of driving time, I do feel good to know that every young child will have that under their belt before driving off into the horizon! Taking into account, that is, that people are cheating on their recording of the hours. And I am sure THAT would never happen! ha ha ha

There was a good ending to this somewhere in my head, but as it turned out to ramble a bit I will just end it here...
Just thinking.....

I Believe...Writing at the Retreat...

Love, Laughter and Leukemia

I believe in the power of change. I believe in going with the flow and embracing flexibility, fear, not knowing and inspiration through the process of change. I believe we cannot wait to do what is best because all we may have is today. I believe in passion and inspiration and impulsivity. I believe in intuition and improvisation as we work each moment to make it matter. I believe we have one life and one life only. This is not a dress rehearsal and so we must strive for every moment to count. I believe in joy, laughter and fun. I believe we can have all of these things as we embrace the process of life that is forever changing whether we like it or not. I believe there is so much in life that we cannot control that we should strive to make the very best of the things that we can! I believe that life is hard, but stories and laughter and connections with others make it worthwhile. And even though I believe all of these things and more, I still have to make an effort to do all of these things myself whether it is in each day, each hour or each moment. I believe we are here not to forget, but to work to always remember how lucky we really are. And that, my dear friends, is not always easy.

January 20, 1997, Emma was diagnosed with leukemia at the tender age of 3 and a half. This was the day I was redefined in ways I would never be able to comprehend. That day I left my class of 5th graders and never returned to the classroom as a full-time teacher. That day I was no longer a “normal” mom attending story hour. Playgrounds and swings were replaced with hospital hallways and medical procedures. Play dates and monkey bars were replaced with visiting hours and IV poles. That day leukemia moved into our lives and refused to leave. It set its big ass right down on the couch, cracked open a beer and settled in for the long haul. You could feel his presence when you walked in the door. He was there and whatever I tried to do I could not get him to leave fast enough. It was out of my control. There were days I never showered, days I thought I could not bear the suffering of my curly red-haired, pudgy handed baby and the absence of my 8 month old Zachary. But I did. I just did.

And after four and half years of living in fear, the unthinkable happened Yes the unthinkable does happen. Emma was 6 months to being declared “cured” when she relapsed. Yes six lousy months away from freedom and we found ourselves again put in the shackles of a diseased life. It was unbearable. Any ground we had made was gone, forgotten, as new protocols, names of chemotherapies, and the new idea of radiation to her head and spine were thrown at me I could not dodge them as I lodged myself into a corner in of a dark room at Mass General hospital and I just cried, rocking myself back and forth, back and forth knowing that I could not, would not be able to do this again. This and more. I could not do it. I knew it. But I did. I had no choice.

And for every platitude that was thrown at me in the name of comfort I can only reply. God DOES give people more than they can handle…trust me…this was too much. I am NOT a better person for having experienced this. I liked myself just fine thank you before this all happened. I am just a different person. We all have shit. It just comes in different forms. What we don’t have is control. It is not in our power. And as much as we want and yearn to think we have control the truth is that we just don’t. What we do have is the power to embrace each moment for what it is. In the same way we must treasure each individual not for who they are and not who we want them to be. We must have our eyes open at all times so that we don’t miss the beauty that resides within the shit.

I can still see my beautiful bald baby sitting in the oversized hospital bed wearing her blue and white silk panda bear pajamas smiling over at me and telling me our new favorite show was on. I would laugh and settle in next to her as we watched those chosen ones run through the aisles of a mock grocery store and try to find items faster than their opponents. The show was as ridiculous as our lives had become, but being with her in that moment was a reality I was comfortable with. I had to accept that I myself could not control the cancer, but I could try to have some control of making it a better journey, to roll with her emotions, to laugh together, cry together, play cards for hours on end, do crafts, read and anything else you can imagine doing. And eventually…very eventually we settled onto the couch and pushed leukemia over and made room for ourselves on that couch too. It was not easy. But we did it.

And so this story that has been written. This story that defined me for so long, for so many years, it not my story any longer… It is a part of my history. It has been written. It is done. And so we move forward to the next story that is unwritten and the one after that knowing that we are all going to die. It is just a fact and looking death square in the blue eyes of my Emma I know this to be true. So we might as well laugh, create new stories, cry, go with the flow, take risks, be free, love, live and try to accept what life has to offer…if even for just a moment.

Heinemann Retreat Rocked!!

I love good conversation. There is just no way around it. I love the feeling of being in a think tank where everyone in the room is attempting to think outside of the box. Their thinking pushes my thinking to places it would not normally go. It is like being on the tennis court with someone who is better than me. It ups my game. It allows me to smash that ball with great ease and accuracy...hitting the sweet spot that keeps me wanting to play more and more. And I don't even play that much, but I do know that feeling of getting the ball to do something extraordinary.

So, when I spent the past two days with people from all over the country who do what I do, I found myself invigorated, inspired and moved beyond words. In a job where I am always the one in the place of leading, always the one in charge of inspiration and encouragement, it was SO refreshing to be with others who work to do the same thing. The difference was that instead of feeling drained like I often do after my group meetings as of late, I was completely energized. I fed off their thinking, their energy and willingness to take risks. Yes, it is the risk taking that was contagious in this group. I believe this is why they all are where they are. It is that willingness to just jump and try things without knowing just what might happen one way or another. It is a quality I admire. It is the way I strive to live my life.

We are all as different as they come, but what we had in common was a sense of spirit that we want and need to do what is right for kids. We have a bigger picture in mind of what it could and would be like in education if we all had the common goal of working towards upping the games of each of our children and not just upping the test scores. We get it and will spend, I suspect, the rest of our lives working with others to help them see, to inspire them to take risks, to work for the betterment of our educational system until we just can't do it anymore.

I feel so lucky to have stumbled upon this group, but then again, I am certain it is not luck. We are all just where we were meant to be. We share a common theme, a common vision that does not even need to be defined because we just know. We know that although our work often feels as though it falls flat, that what we are doing is SO important that we cannot and will not ever stop.

And so I can end this academic year with a great shot in the arm, thankful for the leadership of Vicki and Ellin and the rest of the Heinemann gang who not only "see" the future for what it can be, but also have the great intuition to know the power of a group of people who want to work together. This is what change, real change is all about and I am honored to be a part of the process.

Drive and Live!!

Phew! I just finished reading my last post and can you say glooooooomy? Any of you who are New Englanders tried and true understand that late winter, early spring state of mind. It is as though we are suspended between seasons and just when you get a small taste of sunshine and springtime the cold temperatures return and sweep through your body like the dampness of death, chilling your bones to the core. There is no getting warm from this kind of damp cold. There just isn't. Your body has made the transition to warm and that is all it longs for. Anything else just will NOT do! There is not going back!
And so I have not written because of that state of mind where I have not felt terribly inspired and when I have I have tried to pour it into some of my other writing projects.
But then you have days like yesterday. The sun was shining, everything was lush and green from all the rain, every bud was bursting to make it's way into the world and I woke with a sense of energy I have not felt in quite sometime. I knew I had to do something, but all of the things I "should" do just were not cutting it! I did not want to work! NO kind of work, be it home or school at all! I wanted to have FUN!
And so I suggested to my sister via facebook im'ing that she come down. Within moments she was off the computer and on the road in her jeep to come and take me rooftop down to the beach! Fun! Yes, sheer fun was what I was in search of after finishing one of my classes on Thursday, Friday HAD to be about fun! And it was. We walked and talked and drove and ate out under the sunshine on the water! It was THE perfect day! And I am so thankful that spontaneous is her second middle name...after the middle name of fun of course!!!!
Ahhh....