6,205 days

                                                                                        My love, this is 17. 

It has been a year of such growth for you. 

You started driving, and you’re quite good at it. The day you got your license, you had me drive home from the DMV because you wanted to text everyone you knew. As soon as we got home, you immediately took Dallas to dinner. It made my mama heart happy to see that he was the first person you shared your joy with. You have been driving my old car, which you named “Stephen” and bedazzled as soon as you could. 

You recently finished your first semester of Health Science vocational at Portage High School. You drive there every morning and then back to VHS for the afternoon. You get up on time and get yourself there with time to spare, and I admire that you took that on. The vocational material isn’t easy, but you’re working hard and doing the best you can. Dad and I can’t wait to see what you decide to end up doing in the healthcare field, if, indeed, you chose to go that route. I think you were made to help people because you give your care and kindness fully to anyone who needs it. 

Of course, you’re still participating in Speech, Debate, and Mock Trial. You're captain of the debate team and president of SDMT. I love that you have something you enjoy that you can also share with Dad. I know it isn’t easy to give up most of your Saturdays to various tournaments, but you do it with a smile…most of the time. You tried a new event by doing prose in speech this year, and you seem to be enjoying it a lot. I love that you’re willing to try new things in the SDMT world because one everyone your age is that brave. 

Along with vocational classes, regular school, and SDMT, you started your first job this year. As you know, Dad and I were reluctant to let you do it. I was afraid it would be too much, and you would get overwhelmed. When I really thought about it, I realized that we would never know if you could handle it unless we let you try. So far, you’re handling it like a champ. Between work, school, and SDMT, you’re sometimes gone for fourteen hours at a time. I miss your face on those days, but I know you’re out there doing good things. You have made fast friends at the pharmacy, and you help all of the customers who come in. You have also made it clear to some of the customers when they push it too far. 

Being a teenager in high school is hard, especially being a girl, I think. Friendships are tenuous at best, sometimes, and it can be hard to know who is really in your corner. I love that you work hard to maintain friendships as long as they’re feasible, but that you’re not afraid to say goodbye if you’re not being treated well. Yes, being the bigger person is SO hard, but it’s worth it in the long run, I promise. It’s better to be alone and enjoy your own company than to be with other people and feel like you’re alone. 

You make Dad and I so proud every single day, and I hope you’re proud of yourself, too. The first time I held you, I could have never dreamed that you would become this beautiful, smart, kind, funny, conscientious young lady. Thank you for continuing to trust me with your thoughts and concerns, and I guarantee that I will always be here for you. Stay true to yourself; I can feel in my bones that good things are coming your way. I love you the mostest. 

 

5,475 days of Dallas

 Dal,

In the blink of an eye, you are fifteen. When I look at you, my brain understands that you're growing up, but my heart still sees you as a little boy who loves Thomas the Train, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, firetrucks, and going to the park. 

First day of high school

I often wonder who you will be as you continue to get older. I already know that you are hilarious; your sense of humor constantly keeps me on my toes. (So does looking up at you because you tower above me.) Of course, you enjoy the stereotypical-boy humor like anything that involves bodily functions, but you also have a more sophisticated view on what is funny, too. You still like to take in a whole situation before you comment on it, and I love to watch you watch everyone else. There is usually a faint smile on your face, and I'm always curious to know what you're thinking. 

One of my favorite things about you is your loyalty. Once you have made a friend, you have that friend for life. You will stand up for the people you believe in, and you won't let them get down on themselves. I love when your friends come over, and I can hear you all laughing while you play air hockey or even tag in the pitch dark. The sounds have gone from little boy giggles to laughter that sounds like grown men have invaded my basement. When that happens, all of our snack food disappears so quickly it's almost like it was never there. It's worth it, though, to know that you all are having a good time. 

Another one of my favorite things is your kindness. Along with your loyalty to your friends, I think you're kind to them as well. It can't be easy to be a teenaged boy these days, but you make it look effortless by being genuinely nice and ignoring the how others may think you should act. You're also so kind to Lottie, Dad, and me. I know that teens are supposed to be annoyed with their parents the majority of the time, but if you feel that way about us, I would never know. You're always polite and self-effacing, and you would rather take the heat for something than see anyone else go down. Even if I make a throwaway comment about how I'm dim for forgetting something, you quickly rush to tell me that I'm not and that I have done nothing wrong. Simply put, you're a good person, and I'm so proud of you. 

The last year has been a good one for you. With Science Olympiad, you were able to attend the state competition as well as go to the national competition in Wichita. You went to Washington D.C. with your eighth-grade class, to Florida with your friend and his dad for spring break, to the Dunes Learning summer camp, to the Wisconsin Dells with another friend, and to Hilton Head Island with us. I'm happy that you appreciate travel and the people who take you places. I firmly believe that going to different places to learn about different things is good for the soul, and you seem to soak it all in. Remember when we tried to go crabbing on the boat? We caught nothing and got eaten alive by mosquitoes, but you still had a good time just by having the experience. Even when things haven't gone your way, and there have definitely been times like that, you are able to recognize that there is learning in defeat and value in trying again. 

What I feel luckiest about is that I genuinely enjoy spending time with you. You always have little tidbits of trivia to share with me or a funny story to tell. The reason I love to plan vacations is because it's time for the four of us to be together without other distractions. I mean, I do love to travel, but I also love to travel with you or do basically anything with you. (Except maybe shopping for clothes. I don't think that's fun for you.)

Thank you for putting things on high shelves for me, thank you for helping me to take care of the pool and the dogs, thank you for working hard and being thoughtful, thank you for cleaning up after dinner, and thank you for being you.

You are my number one best boy, and I love you,

Mom

5,840 days

 My Lottie,

When I think about you turning 16 today, I truly don’t know where the time has gone. It feels like yesterday that you were taking your first wobbly steps or telling people that Dallas’s name was Buster Brown or going to preschool to play with the baby dolls. Now you’re 16, and your whole life is stretched out before you just waiting for you to fly.

In some ways, you haven’t really changed too much since you were little. Your big, beautiful blue eyes see things with wonder. You have always been curious, but now you’re just curious about different things. Sometimes you come up with the goofiest questions, and other times you stun me with your insight. I really don’t ever know what you’ll come up with next, and it delights me to no end.

You are one of the most loyal people I have ever known. The phrase “ride or die” was probably coined to describe you. You love with your whole heart and soul; I know how difficult that can be because loving hard can also mean big disappointment sometimes. Anyone who is lucky enough to have you in their corner is getting a friend who will never let them down. High school is a tough time for friendships and finding yourself, but you have remained the calm in the eye of the storm.

Even though it is bittersweet to watch you grow up, I am having so much fun seeing who you are becoming. You constantly amaze me with your kindness not just to people you know but also complete strangers. Almost every time we go somewhere, you offer to help someone carry something or you compliment someone on their hair or outfit. You make people smile everywhere you go. The wondrous thing to me is that all of that comes naturally to you; you don’t think twice about engaging with people and making their days better.

I’m so proud of how hard you’re working at school, both in academics and your extracurricular activities. I love that you are able to share SDMT with Dad and that you genuinely enjoy it. It thrills me that you’re not afraid to share your opinion, even if it’s not a popular one. You’re learning important skills from both SDMT and choir that will transfer to whatever career you choose in the future. You’re absorbing lessons daily, and you’re maturing before my eyes.

Be that as it may, you’re still a goof. You make me laugh every day whether you mean to be funny or not. Even when you’re not trying to be funny, you have the rare ability to laugh at yourself. I feel like there is no in between for you: you either take things very seriously or not seriously at all. It’s always interesting to see which topics or happenings fit into which category. One thing is for sure: you keep us on our toes.

I couldn’t be any prouder of who you are and who you’re becoming. Stay true to yourself and don’t ever change for someone else. The right people will always love you for you: your beauty, kindness, joy, sensitivity, intelligence, humor, and light. You are one of my bestest things, and I love you the most.

All my love,

Mom

5,110 days

 My boy,

Today you are 14 years old, and I could swear that just last week, you were only 4.

Each year, you continue to grow into an incredible young man. This year, especially, you're taking the growing part quite seriously. You're at 6'0" now, and I don't doubt that it will be too long before you're even with Dad. You're my go-to for putting away things in the kitchen that go on high shelves or for changing lightbulbs so I don't have to drag out a ladder. You're quite fond of patting me on the head after these chores and affectionately calling me your "low" mother. Most of your summer was spent eating and sleeping, and every time I have to crane my neck up to talk to you, I'm reminded of the hard work it takes for the teenaged body to grow strong and the brain to grown smart. 

Speaking of , you're still as smart as you have ever been. You have an incredible recall for things you have read or seen, even if it was only briefly. I love when you dole out trivia and tidbits about things that you know will interest me. Having a conversation with you is always fascinating because I never quite know the direction it will take. Just remember that intelligence is more than good grades, and don't let that be the only thing that defines you. 

I'm proud of the way you continue to try new things. Sometimes they don't suit you, and you're embracing that it's okay if you decide that an activity isn't for you. Dad and I are impressed with how you are teaching yourself to play guitar. I love when I'm in my bedroom at night and I can hear you practicing in the basement. I know that you're searching for your "thing," but I want you to remember that you're still young, and you have time to find your passion whether it be your career or something you like to do in your free time. It will find you when the time is right; have faith. 

Your sense of humor is one of my favorite things about you. It ranges from typical-middle-school-boy hilarity to very sharp and witty. Between you, Lottie, and Dad, I'm always laughing, even at times when I would rather not. Even though your humor is on point, it's never cruel, and I appreciate that. Life is hard enough without malice disguised as something that is supposed to be funny. 

I know it's not necessarily cool for a boy your age to be kind, but you are. You get frustrated like every other human on the planet, but to your very core, you are a gentle and sweet soul. I also know how difficult it can be to keep that part of yourself locked away for self-preservation, and that's why it means so much when you share that side of yourself with me. You make time for your friends when they need you even if you're not quite sure what to say. Even though we have come a long way as a society, vulnerability is still not a quality that is celebrated, especially for young men. I hope that you don't ever lose the kindness that is a huge part of who you are. And watching you love our crazy, demanding dogs reminds me that you are the animal whisperer of the family. Remember how the cats at the restaurant on Tybee Island were drawn to you? They can all sense that you have so much goodness inside you and not an ounce of harm. 

I'm incredibly proud to be your mom. My wish for you this year is to find your voice and your confidence: you have a lot to say and you deserve to be heard. Be bold and know what you have to share is important. Ask for help when you need it because that's a sign of strength, not weakness. No matter what, know you can always talk to me. 

You are my best boy, and you are so loved,

Mom 

Back to school

 

My kids go back to school tomorrow. I’m not thrilled about it, tbh. There is still so much summer to be had! It won’t really start cooling off here until September, if even then, and I wish the kiddos all still had some time before they had to report back to school. Getting out at the end of May isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know. And as shocking as it may be, I'm rather fond of spending time with them. 

That aside, we have been trying to fit in as much fun and activity we can before school starts. Part of that fun was buying school supplies the other day. Let me tell you, it was a cart full of paper, pencils, binders, notebooks, pens, and markers. It took a lot of time to gather everything, and it wasn’t cheap.

The day was less fun when I got home and happened upon some strong opinions on social media about the amount of supplies requested for classrooms. People were commenting about the fact that they never had to buy so much for schools, and they were sick of sending in classroom supplies that other kids might use. Gasp! The horror of sharing school supplies!

Listen, I get it, but there is a lot happening behind the scenes that no one really knows about. Teachers are already buying their own supplies for their classrooms whether you realize it or not. They are spending hours in their classrooms preparing for your babies to come back and learn. They are spending hours upon hours reevaluating curriculum and changing it to meet new state standards or to meet the demands of parents who cry to the school board about “inappropriate material” even though the same parents have to sign off on the classes their kids are taking. And, of course, teachers are doing this all without pay.

(I’m going to take a quick pause here to tell my dear readers not to even consider coming at me about teacher pay because I will happily grind you into the ground. Cheers.)

I’m not telling you that you can’t be angry about having to buy school supplies or the amount; what I’m saying is not to be angry with the teachers because that’s the wrong audience. The teachers aren’t the people who are begging for more standardized testing and less actual teaching time. They aren’t the ones who are asking to give up teachable moments in the classroom because there are certain topics that certain people don’t want discussed. They aren’t posing with a happy thumbs-up at the thought of another year without a pay raise or the fact that it’s a thousand times easier to go to school sick than it is to prepare for or even find a substitute. The most maddening things about education are usually decided by people who have either never stood in front of a group of kids or someone who has chosen to forget that part of his life. 

Teachers are asking for supplies because the budgets are dwindling. Unfortunately, there are parents who are scrambling to get those supplies this year now that the free lunch funding has gone kaput. That might not be a big deal to some, but we live in a place where we pay book rental fees in the hundreds of dollars a year for our kids to go to public school. Add in the continuation of the global supply chain issues and inflation, and there are going to be some hungry kids in classrooms. In addition to buying chalk and tissues and lots of other things for their classrooms, teachers are also buying snacks so that their students don’t have to try to learn with grumbling stomachs. Yes, I know there are programs that help, but they don’t serve everyone and they’re simply not enough.

So maybe the teachers are asking for more supplies than usual, but they're doing it for our kids, the future adults in our communities. Teachers are doing everything they can to make a successful year for your kids, and they don’t need constant pushback on what they choose to do. They're all trying to help or they wouldn't be teaching: trust me. No one goes into education for money or fame or even recognition, but it sure doesn't feel bad to be supported. 

This is all a long-winded way to remind everyone to be patient and kind. If you can’t do that, at least keep your negativity to yourself. And if you can’t even manage that, go back to school, get your teaching license, and show us what you’ve got.

The banner

 Oh say can you see 

By the blast of the gun

What so proudly we hail'd 

As the Second Amendment

Whose closed eyes and red blood 

Through the discord and strife

O'er the schoolyards we watched 

As our children were cut down

And the rifle's red glare 

With shots bursting through air

Gave proof through each day

That our flag was failing

O say does that red splattered banner yet wave

O'er the land of the dead and all of their graves

You want to be a teacher?

 I could tell you how I always knew I wanted to be a teacher. My dad was a teacher, and I helped him grade papers when I was probably too young to be helping. As I marked multiple-choice questions, I tut-tutted the students who obviously hadn't studied for the test. My favorite author as a child, Laura Ingalls Wilder, was a teacher, and I had great visions of being just like her. By the time I was in second grade, I had taught three friends of mine who were immigrants from Czechoslovakia and Vietnam how to speak English. I don't remember ever being without a book in my hand, even at the end of the bench when I was part of the B basketball team in 7th grade. Let's be honest; I knew I wasn't going to play, so I thought I would read. Win-win if you ask me. Being a teacher has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. 

I could tell you how hard it was when I stopped teaching in the classroom. Trevor and I moved to Lexington after we got married, and I gave up a French program at BFMS that I had fought hard to save. Not only had I saved it, but the numbers were steadily growing. I had every intention of teaching in Lexington after taking some time to get to know my new home, and then two kids in two years happened and I was happy to be at home with them. Even though I was still teaching my children, I missed being in the hallways of a bustling school. 

I could tell you how excited I was to start a new chapter in education when I became a field supervisor for student teachers for Purdue University. Not only would I be in classrooms again, but I would be teaching teachers how to teach. I did that for five years until the pandemic made e-learning necessary, and I couldn't really visit schools anymore. I recently started working for Valparaiso University as a field supervisor, and walking into a school again made me feel like I was home. Sitting in classrooms for the first time and watching "my" student teachers work with middle and high school kids made my heart soar because I knew that there were good people who were still choosing to teach. 

I could tell you that I understand that parents want to know what is happening with their children's education, and well they should want to know. However, if parents think that HB1134 is the way to go, they're simply wrong. What this bill is going to do is cause teachers to quit in droves, and then the parents will complain when they're left up a creek. I can't think of another profession that would put up with being told to publicize a work plan months in advance. Let me tell you this: I'm a trained teacher, and I'm not arrogant enough to think that I know better than someone who has written curriculum for a modern literature class or someone who has a Master's degree in US History. I know a fair amount about education, but I sure don't know everything. I trust the people who know more than I do about their areas of expertise whether it be teachers, doctors, plumbers, lawyers, or mechanics. Anyone who doesn't know about state standards and curriculum doesn't need to be choosing what should or shouldn't be taught in a classroom. 

I could tell you that I have unwavering faith in our public schools and our teachers to do what is best for our students. If that means that they have to swerve away from a lesson plan to embrace a teachable moment, so be it. I have faith in my own children to take what they read, hear, and study and decide for themselves what is right. Trevor and I have worked hard to instill morals and values in both kids, and I trust them to stay true to who they are. Why bother doing all of the work just to shield your children from a world outside of your own home? I expect my kids to go out and make their own decisions and even their own mistakes. 

I could tell you that parents who oppose history curriculum or literature curriculum often have some issues of their own to work through that have nothing to do with what is actually being taught. One person or small group working to have a book removed from the curriculum that is allegedly offensive goes against everything we claim to have fought for as a country.  I remember my sixth grade teacher taking To Kill A Mockingbird from my hands and calling my mother to see if she knew I was reading it. (Apparently he had some strong feelings about me reading it at that age.) My mom just laughed and told him that she had given the book to me herself. If I had questions, I just asked her. She, you know, like, parented me. If more parents would sit down and have conversations with their children about certain topics or books, they might be less offended by something happening in a fictional world.

I could remind you that there are so many ways to be involved in your children's education. Look through their backpacks and ask them about their assignments. Become an observer on Canvas. Talk to their teachers. Watch their grades on Skyward. Volunteer in the classroom. Donate your time or money or baking abilities to the staff on special days. Vote for people who support public education. 

I will tell you that getting rid of HB1134 and any other bills that pop up like it is of the utmost importance to public education. The problem is that if you know, you know, and if you don't know, you're not likely to listen to me anyway. To the naysayers who think they deserve to see lesson plans months in advance, I issue you an invitation or a challenge: if you think you know so much about what should be happening in our schools, go teach. If you don't have a license, hit me up and I'll talk you through different transition to teaching programs. Not willing to do that? Take a good, hard look at yourself and leave education and policy to the experts.