I used to have a J-O-B. Five days a week, I got up at 5:30, took about an hour to get ready, got my son up and dressed, dropped him at daycare around 6:45 or 7, and then headed to work. I set up my classroom for the day's lessons, checked emails, checked in with teammates about the schedule for the day, checked my box in the front office, and then began my day as a teacher around 7:30. My fifty minute 'planning' or 'conference' period was usually consumed by scheduled or impromptu meetings to discuss student progress or concerns, or by training on the latest technology developments and best practices, or by reviewing data from student assessments. Very rarely was it spent planning or conferencing. My lunch was a brief 20 minutes between dropping kids off and picking them up from the cafeteria. The other 6.5 hours I spent developing relationships with kids, inspiring them to crave knowledge and take risks, observing them and making note of their progress, areas of weakness, and areas where they needed to be challenged. After ensuring all students were safely dismissed, I spent at least 1-2 hours each day reviewing student data and tweaking lesson plans, grading papers, conferencing with other teachers, returning parent phone calls and emails, doing research for tools to make my lessons more engaging...and on and on.
When I left at 4:30 or 5 most days, I picked up my child from daycare, where he had spent a solid ten hours in someone else's care. I then went home to resume my other job as mother until his bedtime at 8 p.m. Most days I tried to be patient enough and present enough, and most days I failed.
At 8 p.m. most nights, I resumed my role as homemaker and wife, making dinner so that my husband and I could sit down for a few uninterrupted moments together. After cleaning up dinner, I started, switched out, or folded laundry while watching a little TV before a never-early-enough bedtime. Oftentimes I also sat with my laptop, grading papers, entering grades, responding to parent emails, or creating lessons.
On my days off, I caught up on all the things I couldn't possibly keep track of during the week.
In the fall of 2015, when my first child was two and I was seven months pregnant with the second, I began to question how I could continue with this overwhelming existence once a second child entered the mix. I stayed awake at night doing lots and lots of math in my head. I figured up the cost of childcare for two children, which would be about a third of my salary. I realized that I could no longer justify working fifty-hour work weeks, spending ten hours away from my kids every weekday, just so I could pay someone else to be with them. I could no longer justify being incapable of being present for them during the off times.
In January 2016, I gave birth to my second child. During my twelve weeks of maternity leave I struggled with the decision I was contemplating. As exhausted as I was, and as much as I want to be a good mother and do right by my kids, I love teaching. I am truly, passionately, divinely called to teach. It is in my heart and my blood, and even on the hardest of days, I never questioned the purpose to which my life had been called.
But I had to make a choice between the J-O-B of teaching, and the J-O-B of being a momma, wife, and homemaker. In the end there really was no choice for me.
I quit. I quit trying to balance a ridiculously overwhelming set of expectations placed on my head as a teacher with the ridiculously overwhelming job of being a mom. And let's be honest. Most moms are the ones doing all the additional work outside of just being a parent and working full time. Laundry, cleaning, errands, meals, etc. etc. etc. And no offense to the husbands. I know you try and help. But it's just a natural truth that women are the caretakers and the control freaks, and most often these responsibilities fall to us. (Or we rip them out of the hands of whoever tries to load the dishwasher the wrong way.)
So I quit. I quit a J-O-B that I had loved and lived for fourteen years, because the teacher-mom dual existence was too much to ask of any one human being.
Kudos to those of you mommas who somehow hold your heads above water as you teach and inspire other people's kids, and then come home and find the strength to love and nurture your own. To those of you who balance a fifty-hour work week with game schedules, dance practices and recitals, family dinners for your people...and who somehow keep your people in clean underwear throughout the week. Kudos to you who could do what I could not. I hope the teaching profession finds a way someday to repay you for your many sacrifices.
Stay tuned for The J-O-B Part II: The Not-So-Stay-At-Home-Mom
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Thursday, August 4, 2016
#Perspective
As the school year draws near, I can picture all my teacher friends busily working away in classrooms with no a/c, purging things they didn't use last year even as they cart in the new supplies bought at the latest Teacher's Tools sale, hanging bulletin boards and rearranging desks. And y'all, I am jealous.
After fourteen years of teaching, eleven of which were spent in the same classroom, I resigned to stay at home with my sweet babies for a short time. The decision was made based on a host of reasons: the growing demands placed on teachers, the length of my days bleeding into difficult evenings with a toddler who I had to leave in childcare for 10+ hours a day, the coming of a new baby, the anticipated cost of childcare for two children instead of just one, which stood in glaring contrast to the salary that never seemed quite enough for the time I was spending with other mommas' babies. Add to all that the time required to pump for a nursing baby, a husband who works twelve-hour days 5-6 days a week, and on and on, and this momma just wasn't able to uphold the supermom persona.
I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I made the right decision for myself and my family. I know that my children and husband will be blessed by my presence in our home, and I know that not for one second will I ever regret the time...the precious, precious time...with my babies.
However, for a teacher whose heart is all tied up in knots of passion for the education of children, there are moments of every day when I feel melancholy over the decision I've made. I truly and deeply love what I do with a passion that is only matched by my passion for my own children.
So, for all you teachers our there who are rolling your eyes as you sit through yet another staff development day when you have SO...MUCH...TO...DO...I gift you with this list of things I'm already missing about being a teacher. Nothing like a role change to put things in perspective.
1) I miss my teacher friends. I have complained more than once over the years about the henhouse that is a school. Teaching in a building full of women is hard. It is drama-filled, gossip-filled, and sometimes more than a tomgirl can take. But oh girls, what I would give right now for a whispered conversation in the hallway, a bitch session behind a closed door, a one hour lunch with like-minded peers...even just one moment with my cackling, ridiculous, amazing teacher friends. High schoolish gossip and drama aside, you will never find support, love, fellowship, and plain old female greatness the likes of which you find within the walls of a school. (And there's also a greatness to be found in the very few men who are brave enough to grace those same halls with their presence and tolerate the estrogen levels in the air.)
2) I miss putting together my classroom. Sweaty hours spent in a musty classroom...oh how I miss thee. One of my favorite things about teaching is getting to start over every year. Transitioning my classroom from a blank canvas to a purposeful learning environment is one of my greatest prides. And no teacher can deny the euphoria brought on by an hour or few in a teacher supply store. Stacking bins or Sharpies, anyone???
3) I miss professional development days. I know, I know, you're all rolling your eyes at me...and the presenter to whom you're supposed to be attending as you read my blog. I know. You know it already. You've heard it before. You have SO MANY OTHER THINGS that need your attention and time right now! But girls, there is an emptiness in me as I think of you walking into that common area (most likely the library) for the first day back, and you hug each other's necks, chat about your summer travels, and show pictures of your babies. Embrace that time, and remember that even though you know it already, you've heard it before, and you have so many other things to do, much of the purpose is in the fellowship.
4) I miss the kids. Of course, the greatness of being at home with my own sweet babes far outweighs time spent with anyone else's kids. However, I already have a rapport with my own kids, and they have to love me. But as a teacher, every year for fourteen years, one of my favorite things has been finding fun ways to build rapport with a brand new group of kids. Learning their names, their quirks, their individual learning needs, their families, their hobbies, trying to reach those kids who don't want to be reached...those are the things that have kept me passionately engaged in the same position for eleven years.
5) I miss meetings. I know, you're thinking What Ever TF, she is so full of shit. But seriously, I almost cried at my last meeting at the end of the school year. Because no matter how many times I've complained about a meeting consuming the time I could have spent planning or grading papers, it was time spent in the presence of other great teachers, upon whom I was blessed to sharpen myself. I will miss those precious moments of intellectual stimulation. And the snacks. I'll also miss the snacks.
6) I miss lesson plans. During my time at home, I'll be blessed to teach music part time, and I'm thankful that lessons are provided for me, because frankly, I'm just tired. However, there is almost nothing that makes me feel more accomplished as an educator than creating an amazing, engaging, differentiated lesson to accompany whatever skill needs to be taught. Seriously, if you can make 'main idea' fun, you're pretty awesome.
Now, in the spirit of fairness and keeping it real, these are some things I will NOT miss. I will NOT miss grading papers, administering standardized tests, analyzing standardized testing data, tutoring kids based on standardized testing data to improve areas of weakness rather than enriching areas of strength, 10+ hour days, feeling incapable of balance, watching kids get away with a bunch of ridiculousness without penalty, having limited ownership of my time.
I will NOT miss those things.
But being a public school classroom teacher...THAT I will miss.
After fourteen years of teaching, eleven of which were spent in the same classroom, I resigned to stay at home with my sweet babies for a short time. The decision was made based on a host of reasons: the growing demands placed on teachers, the length of my days bleeding into difficult evenings with a toddler who I had to leave in childcare for 10+ hours a day, the coming of a new baby, the anticipated cost of childcare for two children instead of just one, which stood in glaring contrast to the salary that never seemed quite enough for the time I was spending with other mommas' babies. Add to all that the time required to pump for a nursing baby, a husband who works twelve-hour days 5-6 days a week, and on and on, and this momma just wasn't able to uphold the supermom persona.
I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I made the right decision for myself and my family. I know that my children and husband will be blessed by my presence in our home, and I know that not for one second will I ever regret the time...the precious, precious time...with my babies.
However, for a teacher whose heart is all tied up in knots of passion for the education of children, there are moments of every day when I feel melancholy over the decision I've made. I truly and deeply love what I do with a passion that is only matched by my passion for my own children.
So, for all you teachers our there who are rolling your eyes as you sit through yet another staff development day when you have SO...MUCH...TO...DO...I gift you with this list of things I'm already missing about being a teacher. Nothing like a role change to put things in perspective.
1) I miss my teacher friends. I have complained more than once over the years about the henhouse that is a school. Teaching in a building full of women is hard. It is drama-filled, gossip-filled, and sometimes more than a tomgirl can take. But oh girls, what I would give right now for a whispered conversation in the hallway, a bitch session behind a closed door, a one hour lunch with like-minded peers...even just one moment with my cackling, ridiculous, amazing teacher friends. High schoolish gossip and drama aside, you will never find support, love, fellowship, and plain old female greatness the likes of which you find within the walls of a school. (And there's also a greatness to be found in the very few men who are brave enough to grace those same halls with their presence and tolerate the estrogen levels in the air.)
2) I miss putting together my classroom. Sweaty hours spent in a musty classroom...oh how I miss thee. One of my favorite things about teaching is getting to start over every year. Transitioning my classroom from a blank canvas to a purposeful learning environment is one of my greatest prides. And no teacher can deny the euphoria brought on by an hour or few in a teacher supply store. Stacking bins or Sharpies, anyone???
3) I miss professional development days. I know, I know, you're all rolling your eyes at me...and the presenter to whom you're supposed to be attending as you read my blog. I know. You know it already. You've heard it before. You have SO MANY OTHER THINGS that need your attention and time right now! But girls, there is an emptiness in me as I think of you walking into that common area (most likely the library) for the first day back, and you hug each other's necks, chat about your summer travels, and show pictures of your babies. Embrace that time, and remember that even though you know it already, you've heard it before, and you have so many other things to do, much of the purpose is in the fellowship.
4) I miss the kids. Of course, the greatness of being at home with my own sweet babes far outweighs time spent with anyone else's kids. However, I already have a rapport with my own kids, and they have to love me. But as a teacher, every year for fourteen years, one of my favorite things has been finding fun ways to build rapport with a brand new group of kids. Learning their names, their quirks, their individual learning needs, their families, their hobbies, trying to reach those kids who don't want to be reached...those are the things that have kept me passionately engaged in the same position for eleven years.
5) I miss meetings. I know, you're thinking What Ever TF, she is so full of shit. But seriously, I almost cried at my last meeting at the end of the school year. Because no matter how many times I've complained about a meeting consuming the time I could have spent planning or grading papers, it was time spent in the presence of other great teachers, upon whom I was blessed to sharpen myself. I will miss those precious moments of intellectual stimulation. And the snacks. I'll also miss the snacks.
6) I miss lesson plans. During my time at home, I'll be blessed to teach music part time, and I'm thankful that lessons are provided for me, because frankly, I'm just tired. However, there is almost nothing that makes me feel more accomplished as an educator than creating an amazing, engaging, differentiated lesson to accompany whatever skill needs to be taught. Seriously, if you can make 'main idea' fun, you're pretty awesome.
Now, in the spirit of fairness and keeping it real, these are some things I will NOT miss. I will NOT miss grading papers, administering standardized tests, analyzing standardized testing data, tutoring kids based on standardized testing data to improve areas of weakness rather than enriching areas of strength, 10+ hour days, feeling incapable of balance, watching kids get away with a bunch of ridiculousness without penalty, having limited ownership of my time.
I will NOT miss those things.
But being a public school classroom teacher...THAT I will miss.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
MIL
Despite all the horror stories I've heard about the dreaded mother-in-law, I ended up with the best one out there. Conversations I have about her with coworkers or friends usually involve the other party saying, "You're so lucky," and me responding, "I know." But on the rare occasions when I hear someone else say they have the best one, I correct them, because they're wrong.
In the eight years I've known my MIL, she has become my friend, confidante, and constant source of support. There are many reasons for which I love my MIL, AKA Glenda, AKA Gigi, AKA Mom, but here are just a few.
- She gave birth to my hubby and best friend, and the one without whom I would not have made my two beautiful babies.
- She raised said hubby, despite many attempts on his part to derail her efforts, to be a loving man with a big heart.
- She passed down her sense of humor, which remains one of the things I love most about my man.
- Her laugh is contagious, though sometimes embarrassingly loud. (Just kidding, Mom. I said that because you always apologize for being too loud.)
- She loves my children like they were her very own, except she has much more patience than their own mother can muster most days.
- She listens to me, probably more than she had ever hoped to listen to anyone in her life.
- She makes great cake.
- She loves animals like no one I've ever known.
- She loves holistic things as much as I do, and it's paradoxical because she also loves fast food as much as I do.
- She thinks I'm funny. A must if you have to spend as much time with me as she does.
- She is giving of time, spirit, energy, forgiveness, grace, love and compassion.
I consider myself double-blessed because I got a wonderful mom to start with, but I inherited a second one when I married Brad.
Thanks, Mom. We love you.
Momma
In the years before I began school, Momma endured what must have been no less than torture as she cared for two children by herself most days of the week while my father was working as a pilot. With a husband who works in the restaurant industry, I often have a toddler and an infant under my solo care for long days and even longer evenings. I now understand that parenting on your own (especially during the witching hours) is not for the faint of heart, and I apologize for the many ways in which we must have made her want to lose her mind.
During my elementary school years, Momma drove me to school every day and was there to pick me up when the final bell rang. She woke before me each morning, made me breakfast, packed me a lunch, and helped me gather my belongings, taking care not to let me forget anything. She never once dropped me off late. She was my Girl Scout troop leader, and she took me to piano lessons and made me practice in the evenings. When I'd fumble and get frustrated, she'd call to me from the kitchen to slow down, listening carefully even as she cooked our dinner. She modeled a love of reading that eventually led me to my chosen career path. She made a well-balanced dinner for us every night. At the time I wished we could eat more fast food, but now I respect and admire her for the true mountain that dinnertime was to climb every...single...night.
Through middle and high school she comforted me through hundreds of migraine headaches. For eight hour stretches, she'd gently rub my forehead and hold my hair back while I was violently ill, and she'd rub my back while I cried. When I woke after finally sleeping, she'd be ready with chicken noodle soup and Sprite, or whatever else sounded good.
During my high school years, Momma drove me to all of my track and cross country meets and cheered me on at the finish line. She'd take me to Arby's on the way home because Jamocha shakes were my favorite thing. Then she navigated her way through my bad choices in boys and friends, dealt with me sneaking around, shutting her out, and generally being awful and worrisome to her. I try not to have regrets, but the way I acted during this phase of my life is one thing I'd take back in a heartbeat. Momma is an angel for putting up with high school Amy. I'm pretty sure my sister was awful too, so she's an angel for putting up with high school Kimberly too.
After high school, she supported me through college and endured many a frantic phone call about things her melodramatic daughter wasn't yet equipped to handle. ("Momma they HAVE to let me out of this dorm room! My roommate is a STRIPPER!") After college, she continued to support me when I made one bad decision after another, and even in my married-with-children years, she sends me flowers every year on the first day of school, and she packs me a doggie bag after every family dinner.
All my life, my momma has fed me, clothed me, and nourished me both physically and emotionally. She has picked me up when I've been down, taken care of me when I've been sick or hurt, and supported me even when she might not have agreed with my choices. Until I had my own children, I didn't really understand what a mother's love truly meant. Now that I have my own children, I know that I'll never truly comprehend the ways in which she has loved me, and I'll never fully appreciate the sacrifices she's made in the name of that love.
Love you, Momma. Thank you.
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