saving my life.

Some weeks there’s something big that’s saving my life. But some weeks it’s just the joy of the ordinary. Here’s a list of everyday things that are getting me through the last weeks of school.

Saving my life: words. Atticus has just learned to repeat, “I love you.” I was going to write a whole thing about this, but then my friend Daniel wrote about his little girl, who said, “I love you,” for the first time spontaneously this week. Go read what he wrote instead. I will tell you that it’s super sweet to hear him say it and that also last night when I told Atticus that I loved him, he responded, “I know,” so I am excited about how Han Solo apparently lives in our house.

Saving my life: food. Alisa and I went out to dinner on Tuesday night and I ordered a salad and got shrimp on it for four extra dollars. I was expecting to get four shrimp. It was more like twenty shrimp! And it was delicious.

Saving my life: friends. I got to have dinner with Alisa. She had shrimp, too, in case you were wondering.

Saving my life: words and food. So, you know Aqua Teen Hunger Force? I know, it’s not the greatest show ever or anything, but I love Dr. Weird and I have taught Atticus how to say, “CORN!” and, “MORE CORN!” just like that. Because I think it is hilarious. Here he is, Dr. Weird style.

Saving my life: more food. On Wednesday, Mike made me bacon-wrapped shrimp for dinner. Did it have something to do with Men’s Health magazine? You be the judge.

Saving my life: even more food: A few weeks ago, Alison Presley instagrammed a picture of vanilla soft-serve with olive oil and sea salt. Mike and I once tried olive oil gelato and it was delicious, so we were on board instantly. And, indeed, it is delicious and smooth and glorious. I will keep on singing its praises until you try it, too.

Saving my life: long weekend. The pool opens this weekend! And my family is throwing a shower for my brother’s fiancée! And we have Monday off from work! And there are eight days of school left! Summer is almost here, and I don’t know if you can tell, but I am so excited I can hardly stand it.

These are my common graces this week. Mostly food-related, as usual. What is saving your life this week?

Published:
5/25/2012 –
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By Kari
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4 Comments

tender.

In my mind, they hear my patient tone and see my love of reading. But reality is more complicated, and they don’t just see the things I like about myself, the things I want them to see. The girls ask why I am drinking Diet Coke and the boys ask why I am eating salad for lunch, and I offer vague and unconvincing answers about the rest of the baby weight and trying to stay healthy (as if diet soda is healthy).

I did not enjoy pregnancy, and I never got those euphoric breastfeeding feelings that people tell you about, and the pounds did not melt off like the lactivists promise. But I tried to think of my body respectfully: Look what it did. It grew this little person and nourished him for a year. The softness shows what it can do, what it has been through. It is a badge of honor. Working out jeopardized my milk production, and so I willingly chose milk production over weight loss. When my pants did not button, I remembered what Anne Lamott said about her thighs, how she called them the aunties and rubbed lotion on them. How every part of us deserves care. I got pedicures and bought new clothes.

It was easier to be tender with my body when I was still nursing. After we were done (13 months and 7 days, if you are counting, which I was), my hormones were crazy and I got all puffy and the pounds still did not melt off like it was suggested that they would once Atticus weaned. When I looked in the mirror, I could not summon any kindness for myself.

Atticus is the kind of kid who falls and bumps his head and keeps on going. For all of his toughness, he touches Big Bunny with the same reverence that I saw on others’ faces when Atticus himself was a baby. He rubs her fur the same way that people touched his head and marveled over his toes.

And sometimes he gently rubs my hair that same way. He pats my tummy and giggles at my belly button and hugs my thighs. He delights in me the same ways that we marveled at his tiny perfect body almost 17 months ago.

I did not expect to learn about being tender to my body from a rough-and-tumble toddler. But he is strong and sweet, and he reminds me of my own strength and helps me to be kinder with myself.

The truth is that I don’t get a free pass on this body image thing just because I’m raising a boy. The boys at school talk about weight and food and struggle with their appearances, too. I want to teach Atticus to have a healthy attitude about his body and to have respect for women’s bodies, and that means that I have to model both of those things myself.

Published:
5/24/2012 –
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By Kari
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through a glass, darkly.

Yesterday, Atticus saw a teeny tiny plane on the spine of our phone book. He ripped it off the shelf, chanting “aih-pane, aih-pane, aih-pane.” To his grave disappointment, there were no airplanes in the book. He was inconsolable. I tried to find some airplanes in the yellow pages, but the small pictures there did not make up for the fact that every other page was devoid of planes. There is a plane on the spine! Isn’t that how this book stuff works?!

(Mike and I both think the “plane” on the spine is actually a telephone pole sticking up over someone’s head. It does look a bit like an airplane, especially to an airplane-obsessed toddler. But we did not try to explain this to said toddler. We simply put the phone book in the recycle bin. Why do we even have a phone book? I don’t know. Stupid phone book.)

The one thing that pleased me about the meltdown was that Atticus could see something that did look like a plane. I worry all the time about his eyes, whether he will be able to see. When he picks out tiny details, I feel a degree of comfort: He doesn’t have to wear glasses. Yet.

—

When I started blogging, I chose “Through a Glass, Darkly” as my title. I can’t say that I thought all that much about it. I like the language of the King James Version. I like the reminder that we don’t understand everything that’s going on, but that there is hope for the future. Also I thought it would make me sound kind of spiritually cool.

It turns out that seeing and being seen is an idea that pops up a lot in my conversations and in my thoughts. Not just because of my history of poor vision, though that is certainly a big part of my story. But also because, as I was growing up, there were many times I felt invisible to the leaders of my church. They didn’t know my name, didn’t care about the things that I was interested in unless they were related to the church. Perhaps this was because of the structure of the church, or perhaps it was because I was a girl. And perhaps part of it was learned behavior: it is easier to hold back and claim red-headed stepchild status than to admit that you are afraid of further rejection.

A few weeks ago, our church had Youth Sunday, and it was, as always, a pleasure to watch our youth group use their gifts and to speak in their own voices about their experiences with God and their faith journeys. This is one of the things I meant when I said a few weeks ago that my church was saving my life. The children and youth at church are known in a way that I never was, and I cherish watching them. There is a measure of redemption for me to be seen as a person and to be given the opportunity to see the individual giftedness of those around me, including my own son. I am starting to better learn what that looks like, and it is exciting to think about raising him in a community that values his gifts rather than a system where he is shoehorned into certain ways of thought.

—

Yesterday afternoon, I gave Atticus some water and pulled him up on the couch with me. I held him until he stopped crying, and then grabbed a bunch of books. And though I am, frankly, tired of airplanes, we looked at pictures of them until he was happy. We practiced his letters and we watched the “big trucks” drive by. And then we looked at more airplanes.

Who is he going to be? How can I show him that those interests are important to me, simply because they are his? It won’t always be clear, so I have to remember to look.

Published:
5/21/2012 –
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By Kari
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saving my life.

Last October, Mike and I took Atticus on an art crawl in a local neighborhood. He cared more about the neighborhood dogs than the pottery, but he smiled as I carried him in the Ergo, and someone gave me a small glass of wine, and we had beautiful fall weather, and he was wearing the cutest hat.

Also, we got a lot of comments like, “Exposing him to the arts at such a young age!” I love it when people approve of my parenting.

After the art, we went home and Atticus and I napped, and then he woke up and I nursed him and he napped some more while I lay next to him, watching him sleep. It was my favorite day of his first year, just a random Saturday in October. We were out and about. There was sleeping and snuggling and art appreciation.

I will confess that I had trouble finding much of anything that might be saving my life in the middle of a difficult week of state testing. These are sweet days overall for our family: we are getting more sleep now, and Atticus is busy and learning, and we have a good routine. That October Saturday made me hope that these days would be coming. I have thought about that pearl of a day this week, rolled it over in my mind as I watched students bubble their answer sheets, and I am grateful that we are stringing together more like it.

What is saving your life this week?

Published:
5/19/2012 –
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By Kari
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if your soul is to be saved.

Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where, if your soul is to be saved, you should go to next. -Frederick Buechner

On Sunday morning, as Atticus snacked on goldfish in the pew next to me, he leaned over and gave me a spontaneous hug. He’s been hugging people with his head for a while but recently learned to add the arms. Now he hugs his friends at school in the morning and at pick-up, and it’s basically the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. (The cutest thing you’ve ever heard is when he tries to say the word octopus, which sounds like op-ah-tee. Hee hee hee.)

I hugged him back, and he did it again and again, this boy of mine. His independent nature is tempered by a sweetness and a happiness that settles him. We hugged and then he kissed me, and I thought about how far we have come, the two of us. I breathed the scent of his hair and the smell of goldfish crackers, and tears filled my eyes.

I have cried a bit more than usual in the past week, dismayed to see my beloved NC the butt of national jokes. Not to mention my own sadness about the vote and its repercussions on my friends and students. It didn’t surprise me when tears stung my eyes as Atticus put his sweet head next to mine. It didn’t surprise me when I cried later in the service, as a friend was singing and the person two pews ahead of me couldn’t stop wiping his own eyes. Throughout many conversations in the past week, the tears have threatened to spill over.

I think Buechner is right about tears being a gift. The tears of the past week have shown me how parenting has softened my heart, and yesterday’s tears were part of Atticus’s Mother’s Day gift to me. Love is always the means by which we save our souls, love that spurs us to action. And Atticus has taught me what that looks like.

Published:
5/14/2012 –
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By Kari
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saving my life.

We call it communion.

Most Sundays, we stand in a circle and pass the bread and cup around. The body of Christ. The cup of forgiveness. It goes from hand to hand. It’s funny when she has trouble pulling off a piece of bread, or when he forgets what to say. The symbols are sacred to us, but it is also the meal of a family. We smile conspiratorially at one another, affectionately.

As the bread is passed around, I sometimes catch a glimpse of something deeper going on. A flicker in the lines around the mouth. A brief expression of the eyes. A deep inhalation. A signal that this is one of those thin places, where we are closer to God’s holiness. I have seen it before when I served communion, but when we pass it around in a circle, we experience that closeness together. People can see it on my face, too, if I let down my guard enough. When we pass it around in a circle, I am reminded that I am not supposed to do life on my own.

We call that communion, too.

My faith community has loved one another well this week, and I have been proud to be a part of them. This week, what is saving my life has been that communion of the saints.

What is saving your life this week?

Published:
5/11/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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for my wild thing.

For Atticus, because Maurice Sendak died.

Dear Atticus,

We adults remember details from childhood: the late afternoon sun slanting through the windows, summer twilight in the yard, measuring the snow with a yardstick. We forget, sometimes, how scary childhood can be. Even if you feel safe in the home your dad and I have created, you will, one day, learn about betrayal and bigotry. You will feel fear and isolation when you realize how the decisions other people make affect you.

It feels wild, this lack of control.

There are wild things in the world. Sometimes they are monsters that will not be tamed. Sometimes they are as beautiful and free as the wild geese. Sometimes they are both. The wildness can be frightening.

Adults will tell you not to be afraid, because we want to make things simple for you. Instead, I want to tell you to be brave. It’s okay to be afraid. But push back at the fear. Embrace a little wildness. Taste freedom. Recognize that some things are out of your control. Have faith. Know hope. Listen to the foolishness of love. Make mischief of one kind and another. (You are good at this already.)

I can’t tell you that you will be safe, won’t tell you that everything will be okay. I wish the wild things weren’t all around us. I wish we could simply go to where the wild things are and then return again, dinner still waiting. But I will tell you that the feeling you get when you face the wild things, walking (or even rumpusing) through them, is empowering. I want you to taste that wildness for yourself, to learn how strong you can be.

Be brave, my sweet boy. Your dad and I will keep your dinner warm for you.

Love,
Mama

wild thing.

Published:
5/8/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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good things in april.

The only problem I have with keeping good things is that good things can’t always reflect the larger heart-changes that are going on. This was one of those months where years of reading and reflection and conversations started to gel. Do you keep track of good things? And what are you reading? Post them in the comments.

April
1 – Easter egg hunt after church.
2 – Our eight-year-old neighbor is so sweet with Atticus.
3 – A couple of stressful days at work end with good news.
4 – Had an especially fun evening with Atticus on the deck.
5 – I got excellent news about a student I am rooting for.
6 – Impromptu outing with Alisa.
7 – Atticus’s first plane ride is a success; I get the best pedicure I have ever had.
8 – Brunch at the yacht club is delicious and I made good choices so I didn’t feel guilty.
9 – Shopping is a major success.
10 – Delicious seafood for dinner.
11 – Atticus slept from liftoff to touchdown on the flight home. Couldn’t have been better.
12 – Labyrinth walk.
13 – Atticus and I went and had lunch with my mom.
14 – Baby shower for my oldest friend.
15 – Bright Sunday at church, and my boys dressed in matching clothes. Adorable.
16 – Excellent email discussion with my friend Brandi.
17 – I never have good doctor’s appointments. Today’s actually went well.
18 – Fantastic discussion about the end of Speak that makes me feel amazing about my job.
19 – Sometimes I am in a meeting and I text the people across the room, just like the kids.
20 – Friday night pizza and Parks and Rec.
21 – BRING IT ON: THE MUSICAL was amazing. I loved every minute.
22 – Mike and I talked about some things from our history we’ve never discussed before.
23 – My mom took care of Atticus even though I was home sick. I took two naps.
24 – Atticus and I had a nice day, even though I was home sick. I sadly got no naps.
25 – Movie and pizza with my girls’ book club.
26 – Eighty-three poems!27 – Worked on some writing for a workshop I am attending. Mike is so supportive.
28 – Atticus’s BFF came over for lunch.
29 – Nice walk with Atticus and our eight-year-old neighbor.
30 – Really nice conversation with my brother.

—

Published:
5/2/2012 –
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By Kari
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why I’m voting against amendment one.

When we named our son Atticus, we said we did so because it’s important to stand up for what is right. So I am going to wade into the contentious waters of politics to talk about something that is happening in North Carolina that I believe is very wrong.

On May 8th, North Carolinians will be voting on amendment one. What will appear on our ballots is this: “Marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be valid or recognized in this state.”

It is clear to me that amendment one will harm more families than it “protects.” This amendment will cause some unmarried couples (gay and straight) and their children to lose their health care coverage. Family law professors from every law school in our state believe that the language of the amendment could cause custody issues and problems with domestic violence protections. The state attorney general agrees that this is a strong possibility. If this turns out not to be the case, it will only be established after lengthy and expensive battles in the courts. Even a framer of the amendment believes that, if it passes, it will be overturned in 20 years.

Those would be enough reasons to vote against this amendment, but they are not all of my reasons. I have lived, worked, and worshipped with gay and lesbian friends for all of my adult life, and I believe that they deserve the same rights that Mike and Atticus and I have. Far from threatening my marriage, these relationships have strengthened and supported us.

If you believe that gay marriage is wrong for our state, we can simply agree to disagree. But we are not just voting on an amendment about gay marriage. If it does not pass, gay marriage will not suddenly be legal. None of our laws will change. If it does pass, it will hurt a lot of unmarried people, gay and straight.

There are many different kinds of families in our state. I don’t understand why the kind that I am in should be the only “valid” one. And, truthfully, no amendment can invalidate a family, because families are bonded by more than just legal documents. But this amendment will take away many families’ rights and benefits, and that is wrong. Our state constitution should be amended to expand rights, not to take them away.

We are past the point where it’s okay for me to take my stand by quietly voting my convictions. I cannot tell my son that I stood by and said nothing as my friends’ rights were eroded. That’s not who I want to be as a parent and a person of faith.

I love North Carolina. I was born here and I am proud to raise my son here. I hope I can tell him that we successfully fought against amendment one because we in North Carolina care about the rights of women, of children, and of unmarried couples. We care about the rights of all families.

North Carolinians, please vote against amendment one on May 8th. Early voting continues through this week. If you haven’t yet registered, you can register and vote during early voting.

Vote against amendment one.

Published:
4/29/2012 –
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By Kari
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saving my life.

This week, I have been sick. Kleenex and cough drops and advil have been essential. My mom took care of Atticus even though I was home (I took two naps that day). But let me tell you about the poetry.

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I spent weeks deciding which poem I would carry on Poem in Your Pocket Day. In the end, I settled on the first few lines of “Desiderata” by Max Ehrmann. I picked it because it says placidly. As someone whose every emotion shows on her face, I like the word placid. I strive to be more outwardly calm.

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Eighty-three people brought poems to the library on Thursday. Eighty-three! I didn’t promote it as heavily this year, so I was hoping for fifty. I always love to see what the students find important enough to bring to me. Maya Angelou: “Into a daybreak that’s wonderfully clear, I rise.” Taylor Swift: “You and I’ll be safe and sound.” Langston Hughes: “Hold fast to dreams.” Justin Bieber: “Girl, you’re my one love, one heart.” Robert Frost: “Somewhere ages and ages since.” William Shakespeare: “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” There were equal amounts of Chris Brown and Rihanna. One song by Kenny Rogers. Several that they wrote themselves. A student brought “Jabberwocky” because he remembered I said it’s one of my favorites.

Sharing poetry makes it come alive in ways that reading it to yourself cannot. There were shy smiles and excited eyes, the beauty of language and connection. Sometimes when they handed it to me over the desk, they told me what they like about it. They are neither dull nor ignorant, and they reminded me on Thursday how important it is to listen to their stories. Poem in Your Pocket Day is one of my favorite days of the year, and it is what is saving my life. What is saving your life this week?

Published:
4/27/2012 –
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By Kari
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the joys of boys.

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Two Sundays ago, I picked Atticus up from the nursery and we went out the back door of the church, heading for the car. This was a bit of a miscalculation, because it meant that we had to go by the playground, but I decided not to fight it. He loves climbing up the slide, especially, so I let him do that. This was also a miscalculation, because when he climbs up our neighbors’ slide, I can be right there with him to keep him from hurling himself off the edge. The playground equipment at church is much bigger. There are more edges.

I realized my mistake immediately, but the best way to get him to run away is to desperately need for him to do something. This is where it helps to work in a middle school. I played it cool.

It didn’t work.

He did his happy dance at the top of the slide, then ran across the bridge in the middle of the equipment. I tried–a little too intensely–to get him to climb down on the other side of the bridge. Wouldn’t it be fun! To get down over here! Song and dance! Excitement!

I see what you are doing, mama, and I don’t think that would be very fun at all.

He ran back across the bridge, and as I darted over to the platform, he threw himself down the slide. Face first. My heart stopped for one teeny tiny moment and then he got to the bottom and yelled, “WHEEEEEE!”

No harm done. His shirt was very dirty, but when is it not? I laughed in relief, and he laughed at me.

We have ideals, you know. We have given Atticus dolls and books with lady firefighters and a pink pacifier clip. And he holds the dolls and reads the books and does not yet hate the color pink. But the truth is that his favorite toys are already 1. Balls. 2. Trucks. 3. Trains. He runs and throws and bangs and is into everything. Several times a week, one of us will say, “Where did he come from?” I don’t know exactly how Mike and I could have combined to make such a rough-and-tumble boy.

When he was just born, people asked which one of us he looked like, and his Nana would always say, “He looks like himself. He looks like Atticus.” I thought I would recognize more of us in him, in his looks and in his actions. But it is also good to see him simply being himself. We are trying to listen to that.

Published:
4/25/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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saving my life.

Last line.

I hate all this testing, a student says pointedly in my direction. As if I pursued my certification just to force him to bubble answers for hours at a time. When I offer that it’s not exactly the dream that we all had when we went into teaching, another student asks: What do teachers dream of?

We want to inspire our students, I tell him.

They roll their eyes and then ask me about money, about the bonuses we get when students meet certain goals. I laugh, because there’s no money for bonuses in these tight times, and, anyway, nobody goes into teaching for the money. This is enough of an answer for them, and they change the subject.

In the middle of a week of testing, I sit with four girls in the library after school. We eat chips and drink orange soda and they tell me about spring break and their parents and what they hope for high school. And then we talk about a book. I asked them to read to page 137 before Wednesday, but all of them finished it. Couldn’t put it down, they said. This book is amazing. I am not quite ready to talk about the whole thing, haven’t expected everyone to finish. I get them to talk instead. They tell me about trust and respect and finding your voice. They already know the importance of creativity and expression and they tell me how they love sewing and singing and drawing and writing. They have fierce opinions about double standards. They grow quiet when we talk about the dangers of being a woman in this world.

When Mike asks how the discussion went, I tell him: I am living the dream.

Last week, I needed a little break from my students, so it’s only fitting that this week I was reminded how much they are saving my life. What is saving your life this week?

Published:
4/20/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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how do I get out of this labyrinth?

I circled the church twice looking for parking, then got lost in its halls. When I finally made it to the entrance, I missed the beginning of the path, right in front of me. It was an inauspicious beginning. But Mike had said he thought I would chicken out, and I am just stubborn enough to prove him wrong. Which is surely why he said it.

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When I took the first steps along the labyrinth, I realized immediately that you can’t look too far ahead, can’t anticipate the turn of the path. Instead you follow where it leads, taking the next step and then another. It is impossible to walk the labyrinth and not think about how it mirrors our lives: unexpected turns, doubling back, the goal within sight and yet out of reach. Being present where you are, one step at a time. The long outside turn was my favorite, a break from the twisting closer to the center.

A few weeks ago at the beginning of my yoga class, we were instructed to think about someone we love. I happily thought of Mike and Atticus, eating dinner together at home. At the end of class, we were supposed to send that love to someone with whom we have a difficult relationship. I thought of a person and felt my heart turn dark, my chest tighten. I breathed in deep and prayed forgiveness. The yoga instructor said it might be the hardest thing he’d asked us to do. While I hate downward-facing dog, I think he was right.

As my steps in the labyrinth grew more sure, I thought about the journey and the work I need to do. I breathed out prayers for wisdom, for heart-softening, for peace. One step at a time, I breathed the names of people I am angry with, trying to release them from my expectations. In the week since then, I have been able to think of them without quite so much heart-tightening. It is a beginning.

Why do people walk the labyrinth? It was so peaceful there, so intentional. I can be distracted from prayer by the slightest thing, but, alone in the labyrinth, I was able to focus. I imagine that it’s not for everybody, but I think it is for me. I will be going back.

Have you ever walked a labyrinth?

Published:
4/18/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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believing. knowing. trusting.

I went to a baby shower on Saturday for a friend I have known since first grade. First grade, y’all! I have known her for 26 years! That is kind of a long time. This is an open letter to her about new motherhood.

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Dear New Mama,

You can look back over old posts and see what Atticus’s first year was like for me. People say you forget, or you look through eyes of nostalgia, but I haven’t forgotten how hard it was. I didn’t fall in love immediately. I didn’t treasure every minute. Even though I am proud of a lot of our decisions for Atticus, those things did not keep me from resenting how tired and spent I was. I did not do everything right. I wish I had been able to be happier and more attached.

Here is what helped:

Believing that Atticus, like all babies, is the least of these. Taking care of him is part of what it means to me to be a follower of Jesus. This bigger picture of who I wanted to be helped guide my decisions when I didn’t much want to take care of him. For me, belief often follows action. I acted like the parent I wanted to be. Bit by bit, my heart caught up.

Knowing that Atticus was born out of a deep love that Mike and I have for each other, love that, I believe, comes from the Source of all love. Even when all I felt for Atticus was resentment, I had eleven years of foundation with Mike that I knew I could rely on. Mike was a rock over the past two years. Watching him with Atticus is truly a delight.

Trusting my instincts. I am stealing this phrasing from my friend Brandi: Parenting books are all well and good, but there is no book on my baby. We broke all kinds of “rules” with Atticus. We coslept, and I nursed him at 4am for a year. We swaddled him for longer than the doctor recommended. I don’t regret any of that, because it was all what was right for our family.

It’s okay to be overwhelmed, to wish, sometimes, for your old life back. It’s okay to take time for yourself. It’s okay not to live up to your own expectations, whether it’s nursing or cloth diapers or making your own organic baby food. It’s okay to make your own path. It’s okay to call a friend and cry. It’s okay to get help if you need it. I did all of those things, and many more.

It is a privilege to help shape a soul. It’s also incredibly hard, but it gets easier and better all the time. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you otherwise.

Babies seem like they need a bunch of stuff, but they really just need you. And that is how I know that it’s all going to be okay, because you are a person of deep love and loyalty, of wisdom, and of kindness. Your baby is lucky to have you and your husband. I can’t wait to meet him or her for the first time.

Love,
Kari

P.S. Babies also need diapers, but you have that under control.

Published:
4/16/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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saving my life: fermata

My grandma, my mom, and three of my aunts all worked (or are currently working) as teachers. I hear that there are people who believe that teachers are lazy, but I did not grow up among them.

But I did work in a job where I got 10 days of vacation, so I understand the frustration that some people have at the amount of time off that we get. When I worked at that job and Mike was off in the summers, it was all I could do not to come home and punch him. (We made some changes in our lifestyle so that our marriage could survive.)

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What I did not understand at that point was that, because those breaks are scheduled in, teachers pay for them beforehand. You know how hard it is to work before a vacation? Multiply that by 650 middle school students, stir in some spring fever and the fact that we didn’t get any snow days, and turn off the air conditioning. Don’t forget to figure in the students who are apprehensive about being home for over a week because they don’t have a great situation and who may or may not have anything to eat when school is out. Carry the one: that math works out to short attention spans and short fuses all around. Every year, I aim to sprint into spring break. And every year I remember, too late, that it’s really more like collapsing. I love my students and I work with amazing teachers, but all of us need a break from each other.

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This year, Mike and I were especially lucky that we were able to visit my aunt and uncle in Florida for spring break. Atticus got his first plane ride, floated in the pool, and picked a lemon. We ate seafood and fresh tomatoes. We shopped for dresses for my brother’s wedding. I read Wild by Cheryl Strayed. We rested up and relished what I thought of as my fermata. It’s been a long time since my piano lessons, so perhaps that is not the appropriate term. I just love the word: this short break and then we will push on through to the end.

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It is hard, sometimes, to see the difference between my life and the lives of my students. We are lucky, and I am grateful. The vacation and the gratitude, together, are what is saving my life this week.

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What is saving your life?

Published:
4/13/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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practice resurrection.

A repost of my favorite Easter poem.

CIMG0033

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front by Wendell Berry

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Published:
4/8/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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saving my life

When you work with teenagers, you serve as a daily witness to a thousand triumphs and tribulations. The worst parts of my job are watching the things I remember hating about middle school reenacted before my eyes. The best parts involve seeing the students, really seeing them, and letting them know that they are seen. They eat lunch standing around my desk, they argue about book characters, they ask for help on application essays, they proudly hand over their report cards. They tell me great and terrible things that make my heart break with the joy and sorrow of it all.

They do not, of course, see me. This is the way of teenagers, and I like listening to their confidences. I am surprised when they think to ask me a question about myself. I like when they forget themselves and say more than they should, eyes sliding over to see if I noticed.

—

At work, the week before spring break did not feel like a Holy Week. The building simmered with fatigue and stress and lack of air conditioning. The earthly calendar was not reflecting the heavenly one.

The church calendar grounds me in a sense of collective memory and reflection. I feel that grounding here at the end of Holy Week. Our church’s Maundy Thursday service was focused on symbolic reminders of the last days of Jesus’ life. It ended with communion, an echo of the meal Jesus shared with his friends. Do this in remembrance of me.

—

This week what is saving my life is a story I can’t tell you. I look hard for the redemption, but I am not allowed to testify to the miracles that I see. There are privacy issues, and, anyway, they are not my stories to tell. My part is boring: editing essays, giving advice, listening. Praying and waiting. They are the ones who are taking steps into the future. I am just the old lady who cries at the wonder of it all, because sometimes it works out exactly like it should.

It feels like a sacred job, to remember another human being. Whether it is remembering someone who has died, holding someone in your heart, or being reminded of someone’s humanity. It is enough to say that the gift of my students, being allowed to carry their stories in my heart, is saving my life this week. Especially on this Good Friday, a day when we are reminded how holy it is to remember.

What is saving your life this week?

Published:
4/6/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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2 Comments

there is no end to the other world.

April is National Poetry Month.

“Last Supper”
by Charles Wright

I seem to have come to the end of something, but don’t know what,
Full moon blood orange just over the top of the redbud tree.
Maundy Thursday tomorrow,
then Good Friday, then Easter in full drag,
Dogwood blossoms like little crosses
All down the street,
lilies and jonquils bowing their mitred heads.

Perhaps it’s a sentimentality about such fey things,
But I don’t think so. One knows
There is no end to the other world,
no matter where it is.
In the event, a reliquary evening for sure,
The bones in their tiny boxes, rosettes under glass.

Or maybe it’s just the way the snow fell
a couple of days ago,
So white on the white snowdrops.
As our fathers were bold to tell us,
it’s either eat or be eaten.
Spring in its starched bib,
Winter’s cutlery in its hands. Cold grace. Slice and fork.

Maundy Thursday here is supposed to be cold and rainy. Perhaps that’s why this resonated with me.

Published:
4/4/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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good things in March: saying thank you and waving

April is National Poetry Month.

“Thanks” by W. S. Merwin

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water thanking it
smiling by the windows looking out
in our directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks we are saying thank you
in the faces of the officials and the rich
and of all who will never change
we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

Gratitude, specifically this list of good things, sometimes feels to me like the last lines of this poem: we are saying thank you and waving / dark though it is. Last year I stopped keeping my list because I didn’t have the energy to keep waving in the dark. But I am back on the wagon. Here are good things in March.

March

1 – Some new things at work went really well, which was encouraging.
2 – Dinner with friends at a Thai/Vietnamese restaurant.
3 – My basketball team won.
4 – Neighborhood walk with a neighborhood friend.
5 – My friend Susan was awake at 3am to keep me company via texting. And coffee date and dinner with Mike.
6 – My mom kept Atticus one more night so I could get some rest.
7 – Lunch with a librarian friend after Elementary Battle of the Books.
8 – Ice cream at Yum Yum’s.
9 – Atticus leaned his head in so I could kiss him during the correct line of Snuggle Puppy. So fun to watch him learn.
10 – ACC Tournament!
11 – Gorgeous weather meant we could play outside. I missed the end of the tournament but that worked out for the best.
12 – Got our Vote Against Amendment One sign up.
13 – Small group for yoga which makes me more comfortable.
14 – Training at school was really good.
15 – Basketball all. day. long.
16 – Jeans day! And mom brought Atticus to visit me at school.
17 – Toddler play date with friends.
18 – Look, I am sorry, but I love basketball. It is my good thing again.
19 – I was kind of nervous about this, but got really thoughtful and interesting comments and emails.
20 – Yoga.
21 – First meeting of my girls’ book club was small but enthusiastic.
22 – A friend stopped by and helped me chase Atticus around the yard.
23 – Pizza and basketball.
24 – Clothes shopping was a success.
25 – Long walk with Atticus in the afternoon.
26 – Teacher workday. I ate lunch in my car and listened to podcasts and it was really nice.
27 – Dinner with Alisa and another friend at Bianca’s!
28 – Hung out with ladies for my friend’s birthday.
29 – Twin day at school for spirit week. The student reactions to me and my “twin” were priceless.
30 – Some students told me The Hunger Games movie was not as good as the book. Guess I’m doing my job.
31 – Bunny Day at the Natural Science Center! Atticus and his friends had the best time and I had an excuse to go. And then dinner with Alisa at the Goat Lady Dairy.

What are your good things?

Published:
4/3/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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1 Comment

saving my life

For the next few months, my mom is watching Atticus three days a week. I could explain the reasons to you, but what is really important is that Atticus is getting extra Grammy Time. He still goes to his school two days a week, and other than Monday’s meltdown (which was not repeated on Thursday), this seems to be the best of both worlds: he gets individual time with Grammy and play time with his friends at school. These days, both of those things are probably outside. All our time is spent outside. That is the only thing he wants these days, grabbing my finger and pulling me to the door, blue eyes searching mine, Why are we not outside?

Is this a phase? I am kind of indoorsy and I need to know what I am up against here.

When my mom watches Atticus at our house, she does laundry for us. She unloads the dishwasher and loads it again. One time she brought milk with her because we sometimes find it hard to be responsible adults and had forgotten to buy milk the night before. In short, she manages to do everything that I never seem to get done when I am at home. I think she has magical powers.

I have been thinking a lot lately about why, when Mike and I left the type of church we’d grown up in, we didn’t leave the church entirely. I wish I could say that it’s because of a deep and abiding faith, but my faith, it wavers. Mike is more solid, but I think what holds me in the tough times is the community. I have been hurt by the church and its people, but, oh, they have loved me. In so many ways that I haven’t deserved.

I learned about that love when my dad died and there were cards and phone calls and casseroles. But I learned about it in a different way when Atticus was born. There were casseroles again, and Facebook messages instead of phone calls. I was overwhelmed and tired and in a fair amount of pain, but I knew, even then, that Atticus was already intensely loved by the people around us. What I could not see until recently was how deeply they shared in our joy at his arrival.

If God’s people have been his hands and feet for me since Atticus was born, no one has been that grace for me more than my mom. No one has shared more deeply in the joy, and I couldn’t even begin to list all the ways she has helped us out. She has given determinedly of herself to make these transitions easier for us, and we don’t take her presence for granted.

This week (and pretty much every week), my mom is saving my life. Having her spend time with Atticus right now is such a gift. And I’m not just saying that because I hate unloading the dishwasher.

What is saving your life this week?

Published:
3/30/2012 –
Author:
By Kari
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11 Comments