As I sit on my couch and wait for some photos to export and load (life of two careers), I feel myself thinking about how thirsty I am. I’m so thirsty, but I’m trapped under a laptop and two sleeping girls with their steamy blankets and heavy, drooling bodies. I’m stuck.
I wish I could reach over and grab it. But I can’t and I’m stuck. And I’m on day two of no coffee because JLO doesn’t drink caffeine and I started to re-think my intense, daily consumption of a full pot daily. A whole pot a day just seems like it’s probably too much. And it’s probably wildly dehydrating.
As soon as I realized I was thirsty, I was taken back to 5th period today when I was running around in circles complaining out loud that I was on “day two no coffee” basically chanting OMG over and over or at least acting in a way that translated over like that to my kids. And one kid pipes up and he’s like “just drink some of your water” in the most caring, loving, helping-me-balance-my-life kind of way. And I just stopped in my tracks and I was like “UGH you’re right. Thank you.” and he smiled at me. And it was beautiful.
I paused for a moment as I stood in one of three classrooms I use for my three classes and just took a breath and a few drinks of water. We’re in the middle of a huge (and probably really difficult) project that I created myself for my kids and I have a lot to prove. It’s hard. It’s a lot of work. It’s a lot of work in a culture where we don’t always require kids to do a lot of work. And I’m trying so hard to get them to want to do a good job just for the sake of doing a good job. Many of them have never done something like this and the fear of the unknown is creeping in on them. I hold their hands a lot, but I still make them do it all on their own. And if you know me, you know I’ve told them how important this is to me. Translating heart of a 30 year old-aspiring-life and world changer to freshmen and sophomores in high schools is literally so hard.
So we say “I love you” a lot. And I’m 100% sure that’s not for everyone. But it works for me. It works for us. Nothing says I”m pushing you because I love you than having high demands placed on you by your teacher who then tells you she loves you.
Fast forward to 7th period. I’ve got a sweetie in the back row, no makeup, baggy sweatshirt, ear buds in. She hasn’t said a word to me and she was on time to class. Something’s up.
I let her make her way towards me as she works through her giant project. She has a question, but I think she needs me. She pulls up a chair and I answer her questions and clarify for her what she needs to do. Other kids come up to me with their own questions (some very anxious because ya know, HARD PROJECT LOTS OF WORK), and she says to me “Don’t they just get you’re trying to teach us how to do something like this? Like work for it and make sense of things on our own?”
heart in a puddle
I said “I’m going to tell you something. You are really smart. I don’t mean like 4.0 smart, I mean like business smart like CEO of companies, aware of the world smart and you have such a big and deep heart.”
And after that she told me what was wrong that day. And we talked about friends and life and hard days.
This, my friends and readers, is my life. And I am going to start sharing more of it.
Writing brings me a sort of peace and collection of self that I have been yearning to share. I get so scared that what I have to share isn’t perfect. But almost always we can find love in every space, so I want to share with you some of mine.