#ArmMeWith...and More Thoughts About the Past Week

Here we are, just over a week since the news broke with the school shooting in South Florida. 17 dead. 14 wounded. They could have been you or me or yours and mine. Since then, the news cycle has followed the predictable path that tends to follow these awful events: shock and horror, thoughts and prayers, blame on everything with the exception of the actual instrument that is capable of shooting over 100 rounds in a single minute and is designed to do nothing but kill.

I have wanted to write about this for the past week, but didn’t know what there was left to say that hadn’t been said by others already. So many eloquent voices (from people I know personally, to ones I’ve just stumbled upon) speaking calmly and reasonably about viable things that can and should happen to help prevent more carnage like that school experienced last week.

I thought at first that I wanted to focus my writing on this question: How is it possible that this is an issue that has more than one side? How is this a partisan issue? Because it shouldn’t be. Right? There should only be one side. The side that values human life.

But then today I realized exactly what I want, and need, to write about.

I heard the head of the NRA’s vitriolic speech, where he stated firmly that the only thing that will stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun. But what he forgot to add was, except for when the good guy can’t get to his gun, or misfires his gun and hits an innocent person, or his gun is stolen. No, the only thing that will stop a bad guy with a gun is for the bad guy not to have access to the gun in the first place. That’s just one of a slew of talking points that have been debunked solidly in many articles, including this one. Additionally, it was revealed that the armed deputy on campus at Marjory Douglas Stone High school failed to respond to the shooting happening inside. So the good guy with a gun failed to stop the bad guy with the gun in this instance.

Then, the presidential suggestion via Twitter that paying bonuses to teachers to carry guns at school might be the answer. I think, after this week, I can imagine better what it must be like to live in a dystopian novel, because the sort of talk that is coming from Washington just doesn’t have a place in the America I know. A place where the words of our Founding Fathers are misconstrued by some to justify their need to have all sorts of guns, whether that “right” infringes on others’ rights or not.

Put simply, adding guns to school campuses is just a horrible idea. Where would the funds come from to pay for such “bonuses?’ Government doesn’t fund basic supplies in a school, the state makes laws mandating class size, but doesn't offer funds to cover new teachers...yet, funds will magically appear to pay for all this stuff? If there’s surplus money floating around, then why not pay teachers a fair salary? The #armmewith hashtag has done a great job of stating what teachers really need in their classrooms and schools to help students. More resources to meet the needs of students with mental illness, more opportunities to allow teachers to develop deep, meaningful relationships with all children in their buildings, so the “lonewolf” doesn’t fly under the radar, unseen. Needed supplies so that teachers don’t have to stock their classrooms out of their own pockets or beg parents for them. Fund reasonable class sizes. Get up to date technology in classrooms. And so much more.

What arming teachers does do, though, is put money into the pockets of gun manufacturers, retailers and shooting ranges, which would be clamoring for lucrative school board contracts. But at what cost? I can assure you, the day they mandate arming teachers, or allow conceal carry on a school campus is the last day I work in a school and I know for a fact that I am not the only teacher who feels that way.

Arming teachers and many of these other "solutions" being tossed around are non-answers, designed to lull people into a false sense of security. "If you lock schools up really tight, then a gunman can't get in." But what about recess? Are we expected to keep children inside their fortress-like school in case a shooter decides to aim at the playground instead? Or for that matter, a person with a gun who wants to get into a locked building can use their gun to shoot their way in and go through the building just as quickly as they could have if they’d walked in. Band aid solutions and fear mongering may give people a sense of security or even hope, but they are mostly a false hope, as they don’t address the core issues.

I’ve read that there has been anywhere from 5 to 18 mass shootings on school campuses since the beginning of 2018. The number doesn’t really matter, does it? ANY mass shooting on a school ground...at a concert...in a church...in a synagogue...in a mosque...at a mall...in a movie theater...is ONE TOO MANY. Are we so broken that we really can’t come together in a moment of anguish and tragedy and have the courage to do the right thing?

And yet, through all of this, I feel a slight glimmer of hope. I’ve watched the surviving students from Parkland and listened to how articulately they discussed this incident and their strong desire to make history as the “last mass shooting.” How brave. How empowered. How courageous. How mature. These kids, as they organize marches and bond together as a future voting block, could be the answer. Shame on those who’ve chosen to disparage them for their passion. Shame on those who say they’re just kids and don’t have a voice. Shame on those who say things like, “the generation that eats Tide Pods wants to write policy.” How narrow minded to think that the mistakes of a tiny minority of kids represents these kids at this moment in time. I work with teens from 8th-12th grade every day and I promise you they are smart, articulate, passionate, caring. And they are the ones we are leaving this world to, they are the ones who can and will change things for the better. One thing I know about kids this age is if you give them an issue they feel passionate about, they will fight for it tooth and nail.

I really wish I knew what the answer was. I am much better at knowing what the answer isn’t. It’s a big, messy problem. And my deepest wish is that the “leaders” in charge will do the right thing, stop taking bribes from lobbyists and work to make changes in policy that would help us all move forward and work to prevent events and tragedies like what happened last week in Florida from happening ever again.

Shadow Dancing

Some random thoughts in the days after Monday’s solar eclipse.

It wasn’t long ago that I didn’t even know that an eclipse was coming this year. My son who goes to college in a town that was in the totality path told me. As it got closer, I found myself getting more excited. Even though we weren’t in the official totality path, I was excited that my school was recognizing this big event for what it was:  A Big Event! Our school ordered glasses for all students, staff and any visitors that might be in the building that day. We taught lessons about the eclipse in the days leading up to it.

I also ordered glasses for my family and was thrilled that my younger son drove down to my older son’s apartment at college and that they would experience the eclipse’s totality together.

The weekend before, I realized that many of the songs in my head somehow were falling into the theme of the eclipse and the #eclipsesongs hashtag was born.  Every few hours, I posted videos of songs whose titles somehow fit the theme. I even started getting reactions and a few joined in suggesting others. I put the list on a whiteboard in my classes and asked students to add songs to the list, which was fun to see. I think a new activity may have been born in my classroom: themed playlists from time to time to see what they might add to them.

The day of the eclipse, I played “Total Eclipse of the Heart” for all my classes. We watched Walter Cronkite’s CBS News report from 1979, turned on NASA’s live stream from Oregon and generally felt the excitement build until it was time to distribute glasses and go outside. Our school’s main hallway has a giant skylight.  During that last 20 minutes before we all went outside, you could see students and staff coming out of classrooms with their eclipse glasses to look up and see what was happening with the sun from inside.

On the field outside our school, the atmosphere was joyful. Some kids ran around playing tag...many others sat or stood in clusters wearing their glasses and looking up at the sky. Some tried doing the cereal box viewer thing or the paper viewer thing or the colander viewer thing. Many visitors came and it made me happy when my husband came too.

It didn’t get as dark as we’d hoped. I know for some, it was anti-climatic, but for me, I know that while it wasn’t 100%, so many cool things happened...we slowed down for an hour and observed. We listened and heard the crickets chirp during the day. It cooled off a little bit. We were able to pick out Jupiter shining in a not quite darkened sky. We saw amazingly beautiful sun crescent shadows on the ground as we went inside to get ready for dismissal.

When I went out for carpool, I took my glasses and kept putting them on to look and see the progress the moon was making as it headed off on the other side. And I realized at that moment that I was sad that it was ending. I couldn’t put my finger on why, though. Was it the same kind of sadness that comes after any event that you’ve been looking forward to is over?

And I finally decided that what had driven my excitement for this eclipse was the feeling that for a few moments this past weekend, we were all on the same team.  From coast to coast, we all looked forward to this solar eclipse. We weren’t talking about awful stuff going on in the world. It covered up the awful hurt I’d felt from the horrible things chanted in Charlottesville. For a few moments, we all slowed down and all eyes were (hopefully protected) looking skyward. And when it was over, there was that realization that there’s more of the same and more ugliness coming. And wouldn’t it be great if, for just a few minutes, we could grab these good feelings and find that place where we were all on the same team more often?

That’s what I want. For people to speak to each other, not at them. Listen to each other. And hear them. And see if we can find a place where we can look out for each other and remember that we are able to be on the same team and feel that feeling we felt as our protected eyes looked skyward as the moon’s shadow danced across the sun.

One more thought. Next time? In 2024? I’m driving to Totality!

Back to School

This past week, I took a class at UNC-Chapel Hill as part of the NC Scholastic Media Association's Teaching Fellows program. Each summer the NCSMA offers a graduate level class to media/journalism teachers and covers the cost of it. It was a great opportunity and this was my second time taking part in this program. The focus of the course was teaching design (graphic design) to high school students and was a semester's worth of content taught in a week.

I went into the course with limited knowledge on the topic and little to no experience using the apps we were using in the class. There were six students in our class; our teacher was a renowned professor, quite accomplished in his field.  As the week wore on, I noticed many subtle and not so subtle ways that this class, even though it was just one week, mimicked "real life" classrooms, or at least the experience that students have in school.

What follows are some random thoughts and takeaways I had during this week:

Even though there were just six of us in the class, we sort of had the same "cast of characters" you'd find in classrooms anywhere. We had the high flyer who got it right away and took work to the next level. Some plugged away at their work, quietly minding their own business. Others would speak out as they worked through figuring out what needed to be done. Some would show their frustration out loud. Others would not.

Just like in real life, relationships drive the dynamics of the classroom. As we got to know each other better, we were more helpful and solicitous of each other, and the time our teacher took on the first day to get to know each of us and learn about "where we were coming from" helped set the tone for the course and week, as well. Developing these relationships throughout the week made us feel more comfortable with the critiquing process we worked through on the last two days of the class.

Learning can be hard! And messy.  And comes in starts and spurts. Parts of this class were difficult for me, and as I worked through the frustration of not "getting it" the first time (or even the second time), I felt humbled and developed a much greater understanding for what students might go through at school.  It was almost like my brain went through a virtual "rolodex" of thoughts during the harder parts: "Wow, this is cool." "Oh, I'm not good at this." "Why can't I get it?" "What's wrong with me?" "I'm disappointed that it wasn't easier; I thought it would be." "Ohhhh, now I get it....that makes more sense." "Wow, look what I created!" "I bet I can do this with more practice."

Designing projects. Well, it can be intimidating, exciting and difficult...all at the same time. When our teacher handed out project instructions, I'd notice some of my classmates coming up with ideas fairly quickly, but I would have a hard time even getting started and maybe feel a bit of anxiety as I thought, "I can't think of anything creative to do." I know students sometimes feel like this, too. When we were given our last project, I had a list of ideas, finally decided on a topic, went through steps of the design thinking process, and began developing a vision for it/sketching iterations. But after getting started and plugging away for a couple of hours, I realized that my plan wasn't fully developed and I felt stuck, so had to go back and regroup.

Not only do I see this sort of thing happen with my students, I'm pretty sure I caution against getting started before having a well developed plan, and yet, I was so excited to get to work, I did just that! I learned many things about going through the process of really developing a project from scratch and I think the way I teach this process to students is going to look much different when we go back to school next month.

I love getting into a working state of flow. This isn't a new for me, but I was really aware of it during this class, when we would have a good chunk of dedicated work time. I'd have an ear bud in, music playing and really focus on my work. I want my students to experience that more and know what it feels like to get to a place where you're so into what you're doing you almost lose awareness of what else is going on around you.

Grading vs Feedback. When I got my first grade, which was just okay, I was disappointed. I wondered it it was worth it. When I got my second grade, which was a bit better than the first and accompanied by a good amount of constructive feedback, I felt better.  Learning how to give quality feedback is so much more important that just a number grade. It's what will actually help students learn, improve and grow. Giving better feedback was one of my stated goals at the end of last school year for this coming school year and I was happy to experience quality feedback in action, particularly as we presented our final projects,  to get better ideas of what I want it to look like in my class.

I really learned a ton this week in this class. Content wise, well, when I look at my final project vs. the first day, it kind of stuns me. And I'm looking forward to working at getting much better at this and introducing these concepts to my students. But I learned much more than that. I was talking to my classmates about much of what I've written here and one said how valuable he thinks the experience of taking an actual class like this is, where you are given real assignments to complete and I completely agree. Experiencing the highs and lows of being a student, even if just for a week, can only make me be a better, more empathetic teacher and even though I'm kind of feeling a bit of the "mid July blues" because summer is practically over, I am also almost ready to start looking forward and getting excited for the possibilities that this coming school year holds.

Careless Whispers...

I like to talk. I may not always have much meaningful to say, but I do like to talk. In fact, as a kid, I may have been accused of talking too much more than once.  2nd in fact, my first career was in radio, where I got to talk about whatever was happening on the air as I did another thing I love to do: Listen to music. I worked at an oldies station (Oldies 98.3, All Oldies,  ALL Time, Savannah) and was, for a time, the "queen of oldies trivia."  I'd be with my husband, a song would come on the radio and I would wow him with my great knowledge of whatever artist was singing.  I know he loved that.  In more recent years, I became a teacher and of course I talk all the time at my job.

So, imagine the past 2 weeks as I have been rendered virtually speechless by an extended case of laryngitis. I've lost my voice before and then it came back and we moved on.  This time, the first 2 days weren't so bad, "Listen to my voice," I joked the night my voice went south. Little did I know that I wouldn't be able to use more than a whisper by the end of that night and for the next 13 days after.  Or, 13 days and counting.  If you're wondering, I've gone to the doctor and taken a round of steroids and am following up to figure out next steps (or rather, my husband will call for me).  I have been told by three speech pathologist friends that I need to just rest my voice and doing the whisper thing is the worst thing I can do. So I've really been trying.

Being voiceless during a month of holiday cheer is kind of frustrating and somewhat depressing. Going to parties is really not much fun if you can't actually talk to people, at least if you're an extrovert.  I couldn't take any of my "Happy Birthday" phone calls. I wonder if people in stores think I'm rude or weird if I don't answer with more than a smile, a nod, or a whisper.  Yes, I have used a white board and a white board app on my iPad (it is the 21st century, after all).  And I am able to communicate or use the whisper voice I'm not supposed to use, plus there is texting and messaging. But I feel like this past week and a half has also given me a changed perspective about voice and I feel like I've learned a couple of things, too.

Some things I've learned since being placed into vocal house arrest:

1) Less is more. As I said before, I can be a talker, but writing on a white board, or with my finger on an iPad is annoying and requires economy of words because, frankly, it's a pain to write stuff down and then wait for others to read it. And a few times, by the time I've finished writing it down, the conversation has changed and there I've been, torn between still showing it or just letting it go because it wasn't relevant anymore.  But the economy of words thing? You can really say a lot in very few words. After a situation with a couple of students at school last week where my head was overflowing with a full on lecture, I wrote three words that described how I felt about the situation and showed them and looked them each in the eye as they read. I'm pretty sure they heard those three words much more clearly than they would have if I'd given the lecture I couldn't get out.

2) We can all be a little nicer to each other. As we've been working on finishing up our shopping and preparations for the holidays, I feel like I haven't felt as exasperated by people as I might more typically feel this time of year. You know, the slow walkers in the mall, the retail workers who aren't getting me what I want as quickly as I want it. There I was in a store, getting close to a complete stranger to whisper in his ear to ask for help. He was very nice about it and I was kind of apologetic, but I felt like we'd really bonded by the time we were done. Funny aside, he helped us two days in a row and told me he saw noticeable improvement from one day to the next.

3) Some things are better left unsaid. It really does take some effort to get words out right now, so I have let many things go that I might not ordinarily let go. Snarky comments in response to a little slight? By the time I would get it out or write it down, the spontaneity of the moment would be gone, so I've let it go, even if I've enjoyed the thought of it in my head. So I've learned that it is much easier to take the high road when you are using fewer words.

4) Listen more. I know that when I have conversations with people, I'm often thinking about what I'm going to say next and don't always listen...really listen to and actually hear what the other person is saying. This week, I've been made to listen more and know that I am much better for it and intend to work on that as a skill even after I get my voice back.

5) Even without a voice, most of us really do have a voice. It used to be that pretty much the only people who could be on the radio or TV were those who had jobs in radio or TV.  And pretty much the only people whose words were printed in the newspaper were those who wrote for the paper. In other words, the journalists, the disc jockeys, the personalities.  But nowadays, anyone with access to a device of some sort can create a podcast, a video, a blog, a post on social media. With my Facebook account, I have not really felt terribly silenced this past week. I have been reading, reacting, writing, and entertaining (I hope). What a great gift for us all to have this ability to join in these great nationwide/worldwide conversations. At the same time, since we are all essentially now members of the media, don't we have a HUGE obligation to make sure we are consuming and using this voice we've all been given with an extreme amount of care, responsibility and purpose? The amount of ugliness that gets spewed on the Internet in the name of "my opinion" can't really be what anyone meant when they discussed a free exchange of ideas, can it? And spreading rumor or innuendo as fact is irresponsible too.  Point is, more people than ever before have a voice; I hope we can find a way to channel these voices well, from politicians all the way down to the little guys.

I'm a healthy adult and my vocal chords have taken a little break. I know this isn't a permanent thing. But still I've had moments of sadness or even panic, wondering, "What if I never hear my voice again, or worse, sing a song again?" but it's not real, because I know it will come back. But there are lots of people who really don't have a voice or ability to communicate and I've been thinking more about them lately and realize we all have an obligation to not forget about those who don't have a voice and make sure everyone can be heard.

Finally, I wrote this and made myself laugh, so I'm including it here, too...

With apologies to the original authors

I would while away the hours

And sing loud in the shower

If I only had a voice

I would not write on a white board

And count on my vocal chords

If I only had a voice

Seems to me, a mystery

Just where my voice could be

I could talk to others near or far

And then I’d wait and speak some more

I would stop using a whisper

And act cool like a hipster

If I only had a voice

I would not take it for granted

And enjoy the gift I’m handed

If I only had a voice

What Happens Now?

So it happened. What happens now?

In my head, I've written, rewritten and rewritten again about the swirl of thoughts I've had during the election season and in particular last night.  I've never been a prolific blogger (or in earlier days, journaler), but when I need to write, I write.  And I'm pretty sure I need to write right now.

My heart hurt last night as I sighed and rolled over for the last time for the 2 hours of sleep I got. I woke up, got dressed and took my dog for his walk and when I went outside, I realized that the world didn't stop.  It was getting light and we were doing what we do every weekday morning. And we will continue to do it.


Later, as I headed to work, I stopped for a drink at Starbucks as I would on any other Wednesday.  I smiled and said, "Good morning" to two different men I passed in the parking lot.  I realized again that the world didn't stop and I remembered that the thing that we need now is more kindness.  And I'm going to do my part to make sure it happens.

Oh, I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't profoundly saddened and disappointed by the results of yesterday's election.  I also know that if the results had gone the other way, his supporters would be feeling a similar sense of loss and maybe despair. I've decided to allow myself a bit of time to wallow, maybe eat a little junk food, and then move on.

I can't profess to understand why people were able to overlook the bigotry against so many "others" in this campaign.  We've seen the list so many times that there's no need to type them all, but for each of the people I know who qualifies as an "other," I'm sad and I'm sorry.  I'm confused by those who made the choice to overlook that and vote the way they did.  But I can not live my life hating or angry.  It's stressful,  unhealthy and destructive.  And I won't do it.


I came home this afternoon and read posts from people on both sides, ones of both anger and sadness. Ones claiming not to gloat, but that were absolutely gloating, talking about the "whining of the losers" and how this election was a stand against "political correctness gone too far." And again I was sad, but am determined not to be governed by anger. If they can't be gracious in winning, I'm sure they wouldn't be gracious ever.  That's on them.

As for me, here's where I'm landing. This may not be the outcome I wanted, but he will be the president and I am going to trust that the system will work and that things will be okay.  The Constitution was built the way it was for a reason.  An almost 50-50 split where the loser won the popular vote but not the Electoral College cannot be misinterpreted as any kind of a major mandate. And because of that, I am going to have confidence that the system will work.  That change in government comes slowly and that if the new administration starts heavily targeting the "others," that we will all come together and fight to ensure that they won't get away with it.  This is a time for us to come together, be kind and remember that all the "others" together make one great group of Americans.

Our country already was great, it already is great.  What our country really needs now is to become kind again. 


So...what happens now?

And Then There Were None (At Home, That Is)

Some rambling thoughts upon taking my son to college this weekend...

I’m not new to this game of taking a child to college. I’ve done it one time before, which makes me a veteran college mom. Two years ago, the first time I took one off to college for the first time, I felt like there was so much I needed to tell my older son...stuff that he needed to know right that second. For whatever reason, the most important thing the day before we left to take him was that I hadn’t taught him how to iron, so I made him learn how to iron.  As far as I know, he hasn’t ironed since.  

Two years later, we’re here. Though, this time, it seems I saved all the advice giving for the last day. A day where we were packing, joking, eating obscene amounts of unhealthy food together (looking at you Mini Vermonster), was also the day that I decided it was time to impart all my words of wisdom to him.  And impart, I did.  In conversation, in jokes, in a heartfelt email.  But really, there’s not much I felt the need to tell him (or his brother, for that matter), that hasn’t been said in the past.  Yes, there are laundry tips, housekeeping tips and organization tips, but the lessons they need and should be leaving with should really be the lessons they were getting from us all along, right?  Be kind.  Be true to yourself. Take care of yourself. Work hard. Do your best. Call home. Did I miss anything?  

And now, it’s happened.  This moment that has been looming over us for the better part of the past year, happened today.  I’ve looked at it with excitement, I’ve looked at it with gloom, I’ve looked at it with trepidation and I’ve looked at it with an insane amount of pride that my son knew exactly what he wanted and went for it with the same gusto he’s had for pretty much every other thing he’s wanted to accomplish so far in his 18 years. 

I have read dozens of articles, blog posts, memes and pieces of advice about leaving our kids at college.  I know no less than 120 other moms in the same place we are this weekend...I’ve scrolled through their drop off pictures (and posted our own) on my Facebook feed and realize now that, while my house has a sense of emptiness that it’s never had before, this is the moment we’ve been building toward since, well, since having kids.  They aren’t meant to stay with us forever….I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t even like each other very much if we kept that same mother/child relationship well into their adulthood, because they’re suppose to go off, with baby steps, spread their wings and develop their own lives with the hope that the lessons we’ve passed on stick.  The good ones, at least.  In good ways.

Even President James Garfield had these same sorts of rambling thoughts in 1879 when he wrote of taking his own children off to school, “It will require no little self-sacrifice on my part to see and aid them in the work of separating these precious home ties. I begin to see how it is that parents come to regard children as their own decorations, given for their own selfish comfort. The severe lesson must be learned that they are given to go alone--to leave the parent nest and fly to trees of their own seeking."

I remember both of my kids’ first days of kindergarten as if they were just yesterday.  I cried big as the bus pulled away with my oldest, his brother in my arms crying along with me that he wanted to go too.  I was teary when I dropped off my youngest a few years later, but he was ready. He was ready then and he’s ready now.  I’ve worked at his school either as a volunteer or as a teacher since he was in preschool.  This year will be the first time in his school life that we aren’t just down the hall from each other.  That’s kind of weird, isn’t it?  But he's ready. His look of confidence upon arriving on campus yesterday was reassuring and I know he's going to be fine.

So, yes...tonight, I am a little bit sad.  And yes, I miss him already. And ice cream did help while we were driving home (as it usually does).  But I am not permanently sad.  This is a temporary loss.  A loss of a past, perhaps a loss of the childhood that was.  Knowing that others are dealing with real loss right now probably helps put this transition of sending our youngest off to college into a different kind of perspective.  And what I’m starting to realize is that sending a young  adult to college is really not the end of being a parent, it’s the beginning of being a different kind of parent.  

And tonight, we are no longer "empty nesters in training," we are full on "empty nesters."

Don't Blink

Tomorrow, I run head first into parenting milestone overload, when my older son turns 21 and my younger son graduates from high school. All on the same day.  This comes not all that long after a significant milestone birthday for myself and not that far before a significant wedding anniversary for my husband and me.  This year of milestones has naturally made me more than a little reflective in the past few days, weeks and months. Reflecting on the the things I did right and the mistakes that I’ve made: the ones that could have been avoided and the ones that probably would have happened anyway; the mistakes I regret and the ones I’ve learned the most from.

Being a parent is not an easy job. It’s fraught with your own worries and baggage, along with feeling your kids’ emotions, too:  You celebrate their joys, you cry for their pain and discomfort and you go into full on mama bear protective mode when you need to.  And it’s one job that you really can only learn by doing.  I know this because I have read tons of books, articles and websites about how to be a parent.  It all helped me, for sure, but it was only the real experiences that got us to where we are today.

So where are we today? Well, we’re on the brink of new territory for all of us.  For one, it’s going off to college for the first time and learning how to navigate a new game of school, a new campus, new people, new expectations.  For one, it’s going back to college for his junior year, where work on his major begins in earnest and real adult life is peeking around the corner.  For me (and my husband), it’s getting ready to enter our own new territory.  A territory that has no children in the house (on a regular basis, anyway) and figuring out what that “empty nest” looks like. For all of us, it’s celebrating and enjoying our moments together and developing relationships as parents with adult children, not children children.

When I look back at the last 18 and 21 years, my mind lingers longingly on the little boys that they were: messy, loud, curious, fun, laughing, excited.  Today, they are self composed, confident young men. I am extremely proud of both of my sons.  They are kind and resilient.  They behave with integrity.  They think deeply.  They’re funny. They are loyal,  good people.  The kind of guys I’d want to be friends with if I wasn’t already their mom.  But as we get ready for tomorrow, this day of milestones, I find myself marveling over how we got here.  How did we go from carseats to cars, from Gymboree classes to the last day of high school?  Passage of time is a funny thing. It feels really slow while you’re going through it, but when you get to the other side, it feels like it went by in the blink of an eye.

Happy Birthday, DJ

Congratulations, Ted