Kids These Days

Sometimes I'm asked why I want to stay in education. Politically, the profession is maligned. In practice, accountability has resulted in an emphasis of evaluation (of all parties) that has brought fear instead of passion to the forefront. So why does one choose to stay? It's simple. It's the "kids these days".

Today would have been my nephew Ronan's fourth birthday. So bittersweet are anniversaries. You try to focus on the love, the lessons, the people that have been brought together through his life of miracles. But it still is an anniversary of loss. Today, as I choose to remember the blessings that I have because of Ronan's life, I remember a particular group of students. My second group of International Baccalaureate Diploma Students. On the 1st anniversary of Ronan's birth, I celebrated by planning a service day with my students. They learned how to quilt by making baby quilts for our Wrapped in Love project my sister and I created to honor Phoebe and Ronan. They did so with enthusiasm. They already knew Ronan and Phoebe's story, so there was a connection for them, too.

But, in addition to the service projects, those students were there for me. They knew it was a tough day. I received hugs. We shared angel food cupcakes in celebration. And it was the best way to spend such a difficult day. At the end of the day, one of my blessings is knowing that this generation will be the ones in charge during my golden years. They have a combination of ambition, intelligence, and the need to change things, from a foundation of empathy, that I know the world is not just going to be all right. It's going to be a better place. Because of #kidsthesedays.

So why do I stay in education? Because I can't imagine not having the pleasure of working with such amazing people. Thank you Rachel, Tori, Kara, Marissa, Matthew, Patrick,Steven, and Anna.

I Got You A Present....

So as I get off the trail after work this evening, I check my phone and see that there is a text from Bennett that reads "I got you a present". "Intrigued" was my reply. I know what he makes, so I'm pretty sure we're not flying back to France.

I had recommended a great little restaurant in downtown Port Huron, Kate's Downtown, and he and a friend went there for lunch today. In addition to their restaurant menu they had fresh baked goods for sale. Bennett and I enjoy fruity, nutty breads for french toast, so he bought a loaf of cranberry walnut bread as a present for me.

Truly a simple thing, a loaf of bread. But the thoughtfulness behind the gift has me so grateful that I have the privilege to be the mother of this amazing young man. And looking forward to breakfast tomorrow.

My wish is that today you are blessed with simple acts of kindness. And if you find yourself lacking, as my friend Lisa always says, you can be that kindness to someone else.

Remembrance-I didn't want to add a name

Remembrance. It's a very personal thing. The way we hold those that we have lost close to use. Many people find comfort in the images or objects that appear; hearts, rainbows, birds, the color of the sky, butterflies. The appearance of these images, while ordinary, take on symbolic meaning in the connection or association of remembrance. For me, finding peace in nature, I have a remembrance tree, a Mighty Oak, at a county park. It has been my ritual for the past two years, to stop at this tree as I hike the park. I place my hand on the trunk and look up through the branches to the heavens and I speak the names of the babies of those I love who were taken from us too son. Jenna, Phoebe, Oakes, Elizabeth, Noah and Ronan.  My gift of remembrance to their mommies, so very small, is to always remember them by speaking their names. That their names are part of this world and my experience. 

Today. Today was difficult. Today I changed my remembrance ritual. Not just by adding a name, but by adding a name that didn't belong to an infant. My nephew, Capt. Jonathan Wynkoop, was killed in an Army training accident last Tuesday. It was devastating. Tragic. In a way very different than the loss of an infant. Not more or less, because grief is not measured in that way. But profound.

Is it because my sister-in-law Barb, whom I adore, is now part of the group of mommies I love that have lost their child? Partly. I understand grief differently now, after the loss of my Phoebe and Ronan. I understand the helplessness of those that love those that have lost. There is nothing that can be done. No words. No actions. Nothing that can bring back her son or ease the pain of loss. It's also because someone else that I love is living my worst nightmare. One of the connections that Barb and I share is that we love children, wanted many. But were blessed with only one child. A son. They are our life. 

But also, also Jonathan was very important to me. My favorite Wynkoop nephew. I told him this often. Many people today are mourning the loss Jon. Of the very handsome, intelligent, leader of a man that Jonathan had become. His intelligence is evident not only in his academic achievement, of which there are many, but in his choices. Especially that of his wife Rachel. Together they created a family with three beautiful children. Who are now left with to grow without their father. For he was my connection; my connection to my husband's family. My entrance in the family was not necessarily easy. As the second wife, it's complicated. While the family was kind, and welcoming, that does not mean it wasn't complicated. Except for Jonathan. Jonathan was three years old the first time we met. I remember our first Thanksgiving together. 1990. I remember lots of cuddles, endless reading of stories, building with blocks, pretending to be dogs (Jonathan ALWAYS loved dogs). I remember him totally capturing my heart with his big blue eyes and his sweet smile. To him, here was nothing complicated about me being part of the family. I was just his Aunt Rachelle. 

As he grew, there were less cuddles. There was a time he no longer needed to hold my hand when we went to play at the playground near Grandma and Grandpa Wynkoop's. The teen years, where there is always more grunting than actual words. But he always indulged my need to love on him. To give him hugs that big boys and large men don't always feel comfortable with. You want to convey how much they mean in a squeeze of contact. The last time, It was hard to get my big squeeze in as my sweet nephew had become a great soldier of a man; t was difficult to get my arms around all that muscle. 

The last couple of years, between deployments and limited time off, I've spent more time with Rachel and the kids with Jonathan. I've been blessed to see the pictures of him holding his children. A tenderness and love in the hugs and look in his eye that belie the soldier he had become. This past Christmas, his oldest was the same age that Jonathan was when we met. With a mischievous smile, and a busy personality. There was so much of his dad. I loved that his daughter snuggled right up with me, falling asleep in my arms. That the baby loved his mama and grandma and wanted to watch all the craziness in their arms. While I wasn't able to give Jonathan my squeezes, spending time with his beautiful family, knowing that he was a part of their joy and confidence, not only made my day but will be my connection to him forever. 

I am going to miss my nephew. Although not nearly as much as his mother, father, wife and children. I will cherish the memories, and look forward to watching his children grow. And being their Aunt Rachelle. There is a great big empty place that my arms want to hug. I will miss my favorite Wynkoop nephew. And it has to nothing to do with the fact that he was my only one. 

Travelling Light

A recent trip to visit a high school BFF included great conversations and a minor stir. (Don't worry Pamela, the trail convos are ours. Yikes! If people only knew ;) ) No, no, it wasn't anything I said. It was this....

That's right. My travel bag. I'll set the scene for you. Six and a half hour train ride (we won't discuss the return trip that lasted 10 hours!), four days, activities to include hiking on snowy trails, sports brunch, trip the movies, a hot tub, yoga and whatever other fun we could cook up. Notice I even brought two books (three by the time I returned home) and a water bottle.

I could wax poetic about packing techniques (the Martha Stewart roll), tips such as wear the snow boots on the train, or even how the "natural" look for face and hair saves space.  I truly had everything that I needed. Cold gear for trails, a clean outfit every day, hot tub attire...even a straight iron. Everything I needed for my trip was in my "Mary Poppins" bag. There could also be a great therapist couch conversation about the roots of my packing light being an unstable childhood home situation that involved leaving quickly and often.  All are true, but not the reason I travel light. Because really, the small bag is a metaphor for simple abundance.

Simple abundance and a life of gratitude, I have come to learn, do not mean sacrifice or martyrdom. Gratitude for what I have has come as I become more certain of what I need. What I need to feel well physically, emotionally and spiritually. It means having enough, covering the possibilities, but in a way that decisively limits the excess. At times, for me this has meant adding to my possessions more than downsizing. But that isn't any better than someone who collects unnecessary things. Both are extremes that represent imbalance.

And while I have the literal "packing" under control, I still strive for balance in my every day life. Judging less, hiking more, listening and defining what I need and want in my relationships. Achieving balance is most often accomplished by letting go of the past, the future that I can't control, and learning to be present fully in the moment.

Gratitude today for:

• Sturdy travel bags
• New hiking boots
• Enduring friendships

Fear of Failure

A tradition of the Lenten season is to "give up" a behavior, food, drink, etc as a way to connect with the idea of sacrifice. Although Lent is a Christian tradition, the idea of denying the body to connect to spirit is found in many of the religious traditions, including Islam and Judaism. The idea of Lenten sacrifice was one of many wonderful conversations I had this past weekend while visiting my friend Pamela. We discussed the benefit of committing to practices that are worthwhile instead of sacrificing behavior in the short term. So when I saw the post "40 Things to Give Up for Lent and Beyond", I knew I had found my challenge. My intention is to blog each day about the "thing" to give up. The website makes very specific Lenten connections, while I will be taking a more personal (and perhaps even less spiritual approach). Feel free to share your Lenten sacrifice or focus, as well as comment each day.

1. Fear of Failure – You don’t succeed without experiencing failure. Just make sure you fail forward.

Day one. Starting big with these challenges! This is such an important practice in education. It reminds me of Carol Dweck's research on Growth Mindset. Experiencing failure as a learning opportunity and believing that effort does effect outcome is the greatest indicator of success. It's an important foundation to give to our children. Especially important is separating a particular failure from the view that oneself is a failure. This is difficult to do, especially if we are concerned with how others view our failures. 

When have you "failed forward"? Were you able to use the experience during the next failure?

Mornings

I've come to realize how I begin my day is my most powerful choice. I've always been a morning person. And I mean, a happy morning person. This is often a trait not appreciated! My college roommates forbid me to talk to them until AFTER I returned from my 8 a.m. class (That I self scheduled!). Once had a boss threaten to fire me if I started drinking coffee. Too much natural energy. Probably why I'm still a tea drinker today. But simply waking up isn't enough I've determined. What I decide to do with that time is crucial. Being a morning person used to feed into my how many things can I accomplish frenzy. It carried my energy forward in a frenetic state. As I continue to seek and learn on this path of gratitude and simple abundance I've learned to slow my roll. Good news. The house isn't any dirtier. The laundry eventually gets done. And the energy I have is more focused and peaceful.

In contemplating how to best begin my day, I've made some changes as part of my 2015 plan. One of the changes comes from an Oprah Super Soul Sunday interview of Shawn Achor, the happiness expert. In his discussion on happiness and gratitude he connected starting the day identifying what you are grateful for. I have approach the practice of gratitude as reflective at the end of my day. But I loved this shift in thought! It aligns with Growth Mindset, happiness and gratitude. With that in mind, this is what I am grateful for this morning:

1. Wool socks. Changed my life. If I were Oprah everyone would get a pair! I personally love SmartWool, but also have a pair of DarnTough.
   
2. Have I mentioned my son's singing? Seriously. Doesn't even know he's doing it. Just a part of who he is. When he eventually lives elsewhere, this is the thing I will miss most. So I cherish every early morning whistle or tune.
3. Flannel pajama bottoms. Really, is there anything more comfortable to lounge in during the winter?

What are you grateful for this morning? How will shifting your attention to gratitude in the morning change your day?

For more inspiration from Shawn Achor, enjoy his TedTalk on happiness in the work place:

Transitions

Almost 3 weeks into the new year, I'm finally ready to make a plan. Resolutions have never been a focus for me. In fact, the only true resolution I've made, and kept, is so silly it shouldn't count. If you really want to know, you can read w a y back to the beginning of the blog. But I do believe strongly in reflection as a spiritual and professional practice. And, in reflecting, use what I've learned to focus moving forward. While always staying present and in the moment. Ha! Balance continues to be a challenge for me.

Reflecting on 2014

The best word for 2014 was transitions. I had both the most challenging professional year and the most exciting opportunities to date. Making the decision to leave my position (and the students and professionals that I truly love) for a new opportunity was necessary, scary, exciting and a risk. I'm not much of a risk taker. At the same time my husband also made a professional change. For both, the moves will hopefully mean more financial stability and opportunity, but as we identify strongly with our work the decisions caused a sort of mourning for what we were and concern for who we are becoming.

The greatest transition was Bennett graduating from high school. Pathways assumed and worked toward turned curvy. He is a brave, kind young man. Willing to challenge himself in ways I would never have attempted. So I learn to support this young adult as he makes his own way down this tricky road called life. I suddenly have no practices, meets, banquets, driving obligations. There is rarely a reason I can't make a late meeting, go out of town, or make long term plans. I am both amazed every day by watching the baby that I nurtured develop into who he was meant to be and am struck to the heart how quickly the journey shifts.

Ahhh, but 2014 was also a year of rainbows. My beautiful mommies of loss from our SLCH connections, including my sister, all had healthy, beautiful babies. Motherhood after loss is a bittersweet experience, but I celebrate with each one, even as the process of grieving continues.

The 2015 Plan

So while I don't do resolutions, I do consider changes, adjustments and look at goals. Keeps me accountable!

1. Health
1. Consider intermittent fasting as a lifestyle. I'm a slow mover. Still in the investigation phase.
2. Need to add weight training and return to my yoga practice. Have my nature therapy walks routine (even joined a 2015 miles in 2015 group with friends to motivate me) but need to push myself to give my mind and body everything it needs.
2. Reading - 
1. this is a significant part of my career change. It's no longer my job to read enough books to get kids to read. So....instead I pester my friends. Many are willing to go along with my craziness and have joined me in the 2015 Reading Challenge. All are welcome as we encourage one another on the Pinterest Board or the Facebook group. 
2. Daily devotion with a group. This is a real challenge for me, in many ways. The devotion is a return to a scripture based daily reading. I am making the journey over the year with a wonderful group of ladies, many of whom I've never met. At this place in my journey, I'm feeling the need to begin a sort of spiritual reconciliation of what I was with what I am in order to become what I am meant to be. 
3. Professional
1. Continue to be a part of growing the community of educators that is #MichED
2. Complete my administrative certification
3. Begin Ed Specialist degree
4. I don't feel comfortable posting the goals that I've been assigned. Suffice it to say, I'm feeling plenty challenged in my new position! As I left my comfort zone, I'm excited to work with a new group of educators who are working hard every day to make it about kids.
4. Pleasure
1. Travel. Looking for companions! I want trails and new countries and places that  will stamp my passport.
2. Nurturing relationships. Now that obligations have slowed, how can I focus on family and friends in a way that the busy years of motherhood didn't allow.
5. Hiking
1. My feet WILL hit the Appalachian Trail this year. Not sure how many, if any, actual miles I will get in on my quest to complete the entire trail, in sections, but there will be a beginning.
2. The trail challenge I am committing to is the Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore Trail Trekker Challenge. Knocked one out on January 2!

Gratitude

1. For connections that continue and grow through social media.
2. For the cup of tea that is made for me every morning.
3. The song that still plays in the soul of my son, even when it manifests through singing in a dark, quiet house at 4:30 a.m.