I love to create. It is my outlet and the peace-maker of my heart. It brings my stress level down and my joy level up. How am I going to find time to create in the next and final months of graduate work? I am finding myself overwhelmed even with ideas of what I will create. I cannot create in the moment right now, as it seems to require too much decision making. Further, with my time so scheduled until mid-January, if I begin creative projects, they almost have to be do-able within one session, or it may not ever reach completion. My visual journal, when I start remembering to carry it with me, will be a great outlet for immediate, simple expression. Where to begin...
Okay, first I am going to fix up the photos I have taken recently...
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Working Mom
There are days that I am so inspired in my classroom, I am so glad I chose to be a career-mom. There are days in my graduate work, that I have such epiphanies and joy, that I am thankful that I am surrounded by such warm, caring, thoughtful educators. But mostly, I just want more time with my son. I only have a few months left of graduate work, but until then, I feel like I am not a part of my son's life, but merely the evil woman who wakes him up to drop him off at daycare every day. These days I feel unneeded...what a switch from my maternity leave. I am in the role of the working parent now, although my husband does work too, and I do NOT like it. Does my son still see me as a caregiver? Does my husband still see me as a mother and a wife? How I look forward to January 12th, when I will return home as to my family rather than to my office to work until after my son is in bed. How I long for the night when my son wakes up and calls my name again. How different things were not too long ago.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
In the Moment Part 2...School Children
I love my job. This week we have had so much fun together and explored roads I have not yet traveled in my teaching career. In a previous post, I shared about our adventures with the visual journal, and how exciting is has been to simply learn about and play with a variety of media. This week we have been continuing to explore self-expression through poetry and have spend time in the forest outside our classroom observing Autumn in it's glory. This quiet time outside is also part of us learning about mindfulness, becoming aware of ourselves and our surroundings, especially as a tool to bring calm to our hearts and minds. We have had incredible conversations, which as adults we don't make time for near enough.
As part of the incredible learning my students have been doing, yesterday we became excited about the possibilities of documenting Autumn not only through our writing and sharing, but also through a new artistic format: photography. While we are still working out the logistics (although I learned that every single one of my students has access to a camera at home, most of them their own), we do know that we would like to capture all aspects of this season to which our five senses are becoming more attuned, from the veins on a fallen leaf to the sounds of children playing in the crisp air. How lucky I am to be in a profession where I am able to encourage children to pursue their passions, and to be part of that process.
As part of the incredible learning my students have been doing, yesterday we became excited about the possibilities of documenting Autumn not only through our writing and sharing, but also through a new artistic format: photography. While we are still working out the logistics (although I learned that every single one of my students has access to a camera at home, most of them their own), we do know that we would like to capture all aspects of this season to which our five senses are becoming more attuned, from the veins on a fallen leaf to the sounds of children playing in the crisp air. How lucky I am to be in a profession where I am able to encourage children to pursue their passions, and to be part of that process.
In the Moment...
Last night my son fell asleep curled up in my lap, holding his blanket and snuggling his head into my chest. I felt like he was a baby again and realized how few of these moments I get these days. With my husband doing the bedtime routine in order that I can get some schoolwork and graduate work done and still be able to rise with my son each morning feeling somewhat rested, I am becoming more aware of how precious these moments are.
I chose to do my graduate work before Kai was conceived and I do not regret the choice. I have learned so many valuable lessons and my teaching confidence and skill have grown exponentially. Now I am ready to educationally 'fly on my own' again. I am ready to simplify. I am ready to return my focus more fully on my home and my family. I am ready to have more 'moments' with my son. I miss him.
I chose to do my graduate work before Kai was conceived and I do not regret the choice. I have learned so many valuable lessons and my teaching confidence and skill have grown exponentially. Now I am ready to educationally 'fly on my own' again. I am ready to simplify. I am ready to return my focus more fully on my home and my family. I am ready to have more 'moments' with my son. I miss him.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The Beginning of Year 36
It is strange to think that, if statistics are true, I have not yet lived even half my life. Canadian women live on average to be 82.9 years old. My Nanny turned 89 this year, so the family genes are in my favour as well. Yesterday was my 35th birthday. Is my life where I thought it would be? Who knows...the only 'plan' I ever had in terms of years was that I was going to be married and have a child by the age of 26. Oops, only 3 years and 5 years off respectively. Not bad.
Birthdays in my family have always been cause for celebration, as have Christmases, Thanksgivings, and every other holiday that gives us an excuse to get together. I also happen to feel that everybody needs a day of recognition. It is not about the presents, cake or cards (though most of us do love those too), but rather that we take a moment's pause to think about what it is about a person that makes him or her special to us. As the old adage goes, "It's the thought that counts." Well, the thought that is shared, that is.
The reality is that most of us do not share 'warm fuzzies' (yes, I teach elementary school) on a regular basis. We expect others to know what we mean to them. Fair enough, actions are important. But can something be truly known unless it is somehow put into words and shared with others? I suppose if we had a strong history of passing down knowledge and information to others, words would not be of so much importance. However, as much as technology does to improve communication and knowledge sharing worldwide, it also distances us from each other. How often do I 'catch up' with my friends and family through email, or more recently, Facebook? It is convenient, yes, but our technology-assisted conversations are so much briefer and less rich. I know more about people's 'statistics', but less about who they are and what they believe.
I have recently read a chapter written by Margaret Wheatley called Turning to One Another: simple conversations to restore hope to the future. Wheatley starts off her chapter simple processes with the following assertion: “Many of us would like to simplify our lives, and life in general. Yet I notice how difficult it is to accept and believe in simple solutions and processes. Everything has become quite complicated.” (p. 20). To begin my 36th year, I would like to have more of these simple conversations. To become reacquainted with the people in my life, in person. To spend less time with 'busy work' and more time in the same space with my friends and family. Taking walks. Playing games. Eating together. Having tea. To begin my 36th year, I would love to get together with you. Are you free?
Birthdays in my family have always been cause for celebration, as have Christmases, Thanksgivings, and every other holiday that gives us an excuse to get together. I also happen to feel that everybody needs a day of recognition. It is not about the presents, cake or cards (though most of us do love those too), but rather that we take a moment's pause to think about what it is about a person that makes him or her special to us. As the old adage goes, "It's the thought that counts." Well, the thought that is shared, that is.
The reality is that most of us do not share 'warm fuzzies' (yes, I teach elementary school) on a regular basis. We expect others to know what we mean to them. Fair enough, actions are important. But can something be truly known unless it is somehow put into words and shared with others? I suppose if we had a strong history of passing down knowledge and information to others, words would not be of so much importance. However, as much as technology does to improve communication and knowledge sharing worldwide, it also distances us from each other. How often do I 'catch up' with my friends and family through email, or more recently, Facebook? It is convenient, yes, but our technology-assisted conversations are so much briefer and less rich. I know more about people's 'statistics', but less about who they are and what they believe.
I have recently read a chapter written by Margaret Wheatley called Turning to One Another: simple conversations to restore hope to the future. Wheatley starts off her chapter simple processes with the following assertion: “Many of us would like to simplify our lives, and life in general. Yet I notice how difficult it is to accept and believe in simple solutions and processes. Everything has become quite complicated.” (p. 20). To begin my 36th year, I would like to have more of these simple conversations. To become reacquainted with the people in my life, in person. To spend less time with 'busy work' and more time in the same space with my friends and family. Taking walks. Playing games. Eating together. Having tea. To begin my 36th year, I would love to get together with you. Are you free?
Monday, October 4, 2010
Ruminations on My Kitchen
Who thought I would ever be someone who loved being in the kitchen. Okay, I love being in my kitchen most when it has the following: a warm meal simmering, fresh baking on the counter-top, a dish rack full with clean dishes, an empty sink, stocked cupboards, a pantry full of baking supplies and this season's home canning. Yes, I know - I'm picky. But it is one step above the old me who liked a kitchen with someone else in it.
Giving birth to a child has changed me and my attitude towards my kitchen. Somehow providing for a family has made me begin to connect back to a lifestyle that I used to watch on Little House on the Prairie. Now I grew up with my mom cooking meals, but I was completely unattached to the process. Mostly I remember having meals on the run while we rushed off to basketball games. I am sure my mom put in good time shopping and preparing meals that we hardly even looked twice at before digesting, or in my dad's case, putting salt on. I don't remember being interested in how the food got to our plates.
Since Kai, I prepare balanced meals with fresh, local, organic food, as often as I am able. I look at labels to check sugar content. I try to introduce a variety of vegetables, which I never before thought about putting on my plate. I finally bought The Joy of Cooking, and have even begun to see from where the joy might come. I am proud when I have a meal ready for my family at the end of a working day. It doesn't happen every day, and we still eat university-student staple meals like pasta and sauce, but now it often includes a side of quickly steamed broccoli or homemade sauce.
I get satisfaction from preparing my own food, whether it be the homemade jam I learned how to make this summer, or a new recipe for muffins or pie I test out on Marc. I don't even necessarily eat much of what I bake, as the pleasure and peace is primarily in the making. Don't get me wrong, my diet consists of more baking than I perhaps should eat, but with my busy days and nights often spent working, any time I have to bake and prepare my own food is quiet time. Time I do not have to think, but simply 'do.'
My friend recently wrote an article in the e-magazine Rhythm of the Home about cooking with children, http://rhythmofthehome.com/autumn-2010/cooking-with-children/. Since the beginning, Kai too has been in the kitchen with me, but only recently have I realized how much fun it can be. Messy? Absolutely! Is he opinionated about which ingredients and cooking utensils he would like to use? You bet. Does he make something edible? Are you kidding? But just having him stand beside me on the stool, with his own baking supplies while I bake myself is truly my own version of The Joy of Cooking. Irma Rombauer, you've got nothing on me. (okay, you had actual skill, but what's that in the face of fun). :)
Giving birth to a child has changed me and my attitude towards my kitchen. Somehow providing for a family has made me begin to connect back to a lifestyle that I used to watch on Little House on the Prairie. Now I grew up with my mom cooking meals, but I was completely unattached to the process. Mostly I remember having meals on the run while we rushed off to basketball games. I am sure my mom put in good time shopping and preparing meals that we hardly even looked twice at before digesting, or in my dad's case, putting salt on. I don't remember being interested in how the food got to our plates.
Since Kai, I prepare balanced meals with fresh, local, organic food, as often as I am able. I look at labels to check sugar content. I try to introduce a variety of vegetables, which I never before thought about putting on my plate. I finally bought The Joy of Cooking, and have even begun to see from where the joy might come. I am proud when I have a meal ready for my family at the end of a working day. It doesn't happen every day, and we still eat university-student staple meals like pasta and sauce, but now it often includes a side of quickly steamed broccoli or homemade sauce.
I get satisfaction from preparing my own food, whether it be the homemade jam I learned how to make this summer, or a new recipe for muffins or pie I test out on Marc. I don't even necessarily eat much of what I bake, as the pleasure and peace is primarily in the making. Don't get me wrong, my diet consists of more baking than I perhaps should eat, but with my busy days and nights often spent working, any time I have to bake and prepare my own food is quiet time. Time I do not have to think, but simply 'do.'
My friend recently wrote an article in the e-magazine Rhythm of the Home about cooking with children, http://rhythmofthehome.com/autumn-2010/cooking-with-children/. Since the beginning, Kai too has been in the kitchen with me, but only recently have I realized how much fun it can be. Messy? Absolutely! Is he opinionated about which ingredients and cooking utensils he would like to use? You bet. Does he make something edible? Are you kidding? But just having him stand beside me on the stool, with his own baking supplies while I bake myself is truly my own version of The Joy of Cooking. Irma Rombauer, you've got nothing on me. (okay, you had actual skill, but what's that in the face of fun). :)
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