Reflections on Back to School

We just ended the third week of school, and for the first time since September 4th, we don't have to do anything today.  I'm hoping to go out to dinner (even though that will be the third time this week) and to do a little cleaning (maybe) and to just relax tonight.  I even have time to record a few thoughts about the last 18 days (the first thought being: IT'S ONLY BEEN 18 DAYS?? SERIOUSLY?? THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE.) 

• I haven't blogged about this, and probably never fully will, but there was a week this summer when I thought about going back to the classroom full time.  It was a tough decision, but a month later, I'm feeling good about the choice to keep working as an instructional coach half of the day.  I had to accept a big risk (coaching=temporary position for half of my job; teaching full time=full time permanent position, just weird union/contract stuff, really) but I think it was the right choice.  I will be coaching completely different people this year, and once I get over my aversion to change, I think it will be  great year.
• I have a really different class this year than I have had in the past. It's still large-ish (30 students) and the needs are still varied, but the needs this year are not so much academic needs as they are social and emotional needs.  With the exception of one epic failure of a day, it has been easy and enjoyable.  I like how quirky they are, and I think it's going to be a really fun group. 
• Josh is actually liking seventh grade.  He likes his classes (especially STEM, science and PE), ended up with his good buddy in every class, and has lunch with a group of his friends.  As previously mentioned, math homework is killing us, but overall, it's been an easy transition for him. 
• I won't be saying much about this either because Josh is definitely firmly at the age where I need to be cautious about what I share for him, but last spring, he made a competitive, older soccer team.  It was a surprise, and it meant that he moved to a team of older (and bigger--my word, were they ever grown up men) boys that he didn't know.  About two weeks ago, we made a family decision that it wasn't the right thing for him, and he very happily moved back to his old team.  He practically leaps into the car to get to games and practices and is starting to love soccer again.  And that's really all that needs to be said, right?
• Abby loves first grade. LOVES.  Her teacher told me she enjoys Abby's energy and helpfulness and that she participates and always sings along.  Sounds about right.  She is still sassy, and our clothing battle is never ending, but she is such a fun, happy girl.  The older she gets, the more often we are stopped by strangers who have to tell her how pretty she is.  And the older she gets, the more she loves every minute of it.  We can't stop this problem, but I do tell her every day that she is smart, strong, athletic, funny, and kind. 
• James is, as always, a funny and sweet boy.  He continues to be a contradiction at school, and I received an email last week explaining that he has been placed in both advanced math and Title One reading support.  He loves Title One, and he was relieved to get to go and he loves math too, so he was excited for a challenge.  However, for the first time ever, he is feeling less than confident about school in general.  It makes me really sad, and he is pretty sad about it too.  I love his teacher this year SO MUCH, and he continues to just work his little tail off at school, so I think he'll be fine.  It's hard, though, to see the self doubt creep in for him. 
• John is assistant coaching a local high school girls' soccer team this fall, so I honestly have no idea how he is doing.  Between his early bedtime so that he can get up early to drive to Portland and daily practices or games with the team, we don't see a lot of him at the moment, and on some days, it is literally just a few waking minutes.  He is enjoying it a lot, though, and it's only for a few months! 
• I was so worried about school starting again after a completely calm, relaxing summer full of sunshine and sleeping in, and I won't lie. It's been a little rough.  Three soccer schedules, dance class, homework, Back to School nights, and working full time are a little overwhelming.  I think we're getting into the swing of things now, and I am hoping for calmer weeks ahead.  I'm not proud of a few of the "family moments" we've had in the past 18 days, and I am resolving to keep calm and organized in the coming weeks to avoid any more. 

I guess I had a lot of things to reflect about!

Seventh Grade

(Disclaimer. MASSIVE disclaimer: Math homework is miserable.  Josh is unpleasant and difficult and argumentative, and I am not sure both of us are going to make it out of high school Algebra alive this year.  Also? Sometimes he teases his sister for no reason other than to irritate her and make her whine "Joooooosssshhh" in the most irritating voice. So, in case you read this post and think I'm a big fat liar? Just know that I am more of a big fat omitter of information.)

Somehow, I find myself the parent of a seventh grader.  I was JUST IN SEVENTH GRADE, you guys. I am still friends with people I was friends with in seventh grade.  I remember my entire schedule from seventh grade.  I can still see "The Sumerian News" newspaper project in my mind's eye and still wish that I had done a neater job on it.  To have a seventh grader of my own seems pretty ridiculous!  But somehow, it happened.

I have to be honest.  I don't love seventh graders.  My illustrious career of teaching seventh grade lasted exactly one year before I high tailed it back to sixth grade.  Generally, they're not super pleasant, and I wasn't looking forward to parenting one.  At all. 

Here's the thing, though.  Josh is so fun as a seventh grader.  He talks to me and shares his thoughts about everything.  He has talked more to me in the past four months than the rest of his life combined, I think.  He rides in the front seat of the van with me, chatting and laughing.  He's almost my heighth (just a couple more inches to go!), got his braces off last month, has broad shoulders and defined muscles...he is just this big grown up guy!  And yet, he still wants to talk to me and hang out with me.  I'm just shocked by his maturity most of the time.  Today, he needed a book for his Language Arts class, and he asked me for a recommendation, took the recommendation, and then....wait for it....thanked me for it and said he loved the book.  Kind of amazing. 

Today after school, he had forgotten his key AGAIN, so he just stayed with me instead of walking home. (Notice I didn't include remembering his key in the list of his many fine qualities.) Diana was there too, and they got a snack to share and sat laughing and talking and eating.  These two tall, grown-up, friends-for-life, and all I could think was that I just like them so much.  I just really didn't see this one coming at all. 

James

After two long soccer games in the sun, he asked for only two things: Something cold to drink and to hurry home so he could work on his new Legos. 

Me: Anything for you, Soccer Star.
James: Soccer Star?
Me: Well, you scored three goals!
James: Yeah, but I'm not the star.  I could never score goals without the rest of my team, Mom.

Oh, right.  Absolutely.  I sometimes lose track of my non-stop mantra about "playing soccer for fun and exercise and to get better, it doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's not scoring the goals that matter, it's playing the hardest you can for your team" when they win.  He is such a serious boy, and the lines of black and white rarely fade into gray for him.  I told him that he and the rest of the team really played hard and that I was so,so proud of them.  And then I bought him a root beer. 

When we got home, he raced inside to his Lego set.  Abby headed to the neighbors, and John and Josh weren't home, so he was alone, happily building.  I was cleaning in the other room, but when I walked by, I saw him intently working, right in the middle of a golden sunbeam. I just stood and watched my sweet, sweet boy.  I snuck in to snap a picture (a picture that really didn't capture real life), and he looked up after a minute.

James: Mom, what are you doing?
Me: Oh, just taking a picture.
James: Why?
Me: You just looked so cute sitting here.
James: Huh. (shrug) Well, OK.

And he returned to his Legos.  I stood watching him for another minute, and he broke the silence.

James: Mom?
Me: What, honey?
James: I just really think it's amazing that someone at the Lego company can come up with all these ideas! I mean all these pieces fit together to make something.
Me: Yeah, I think they must be really creative.
James: I bet they make a lot of money!
Me: Probably.
James: You know what I really like?
Me: What's that?
James: Legos are like multi-step problems.  And when you solve the problem? You're just really proud of yourself.
Me: James, I really like you.
James: I know, Mom.  I like you too.

And he went back to his silent work.  I just adore my serious, earnest, goal-scoring, hard-playing, problem-solving boy. 

Golden hair, dirty knees, intense focus. Delicious.  

Seven

In a few hours, my baby girl will be seven.  On her seventh birthday, my baby girl who really, REALLY isn't a baby anymore will get up, get dressed, tie her own shoes, brush her own teeth, and do her own hair.  It is pretty much guaranteed that I will not love her hair or her outfit.  Before she leaves for school, she'll give me a giant bear hug and tell me she loves me, and when I lean down to kiss her head, I'll just barely have to bend at the waist.  She'll walk to the bus without a second glance home, her crooked pony tail swinging as confidence oozes from her every step, and head to school to sing and read and write and be happy. 

When I think about my Abby, I marvel at her happiness, her independence, her intelligence, and her confidence.  She is everything a seven year old should be all wrapped up in one fantastically tall,sparkly package.  I am so proud to mother her, to love her, to know her.  Happy, happy birthday to my special girl! 

Not Our Best Night

(Note: The feeling that I needed to "catch up" with blogging was stopping me from actually blogging, but I really do like to write here. So, although my draft box is absolutely full up with teh beginnings of "catch up" posts, I'll be starting from today.)

Yesterday, James's soccer team participated in this season's "seeding jamboree." Basically, it meant that they would play three games, spaced closely together, to help the league make a fair schedule for the season.  In between game 2 and 3, the boys had a longer break. (Not long enough to go get dinner, even though it was most decidedly dinner time, but a good 45 minutes to spare.)  The boys all went to an empty field to play, unsupervised.  We were close by, but not sitting and watching them play.  Big mistake. 

I was sitting, updating Facebook (what? It's really important to keep my high school friends up to date with my nine-year-old's soccer games!) when one of James' friends came up saying, "A soccer goal fell on James's head!"  I stood up to go see what was going on, and as soon as I spotted him, I broke out into a full run (pretty much an unprecedented event for me).  His face and hands and shirt were covered in blood, and he was just screaming.  Josh was leading him over, looking pretty pale himself, and confirming that the soccer goal had indeed tipped over and fallen on him. 

I am actually good in a crisis. I can stay pretty calm and collected, but inside, I was pretty much freaking out.  We could see that blood was coming from his nose, but weren't sure if it was coming from anywhere else, and there was just so much of it!  It was really scary, and we knew that he had gotten a nasty knock on the head.  A doctor materialized from thin air (he was actually watching his daughter's game, but it really seemed like he came from nowhere) and examined him, we got the bleeding stopped, and we finally got him calmed down.  The doctor gave us instructions and told us we could monitor him instead of heading to the ER. 

James, of course, wanted to stay and watch his team, so people brought us water and snacks and warm blankets, and I insisted he sit on my lap to watch the game.  He was pretty lethargic and shaky at first, but by the time we left, he had perked up quite a bit.  He had a Sonic milkshake for dinner, slept in my room (because I may not be able to stop something bad from happening, but I am absolutely not letting them leave my side when they are sick or hurt), and woke up this morning very sore, and with a headache, but basically alright.

There was a second story line going on while we dealt with James.  Josh, who had been there when thegoal came down and had been the one to get him to an adult for help, was very shaken.  He seemed fine, but kept wanting to relive it moment by moment.  If I hadn't been so wrapped up in James, I would have seen where this was going! Josh tends towards anxiety (understatement) and has a very physical reaction to it.  We've worked on this for years since anxiety makes him sick, which makes him more anxious, which makes him more sick.  Pretty soon, he had a headache. We tried to remind him that he was upset and that everything was OK, but the headache got worse and worse and worse until it was a migraine.  We managed to just barely get home before he was puking, and he headed to bed in a dark room with a cold cloth.  I don't know a lot about migraines, but we know that adrenaline is a trigger for Josh's headaches.  (He probably won't be a sky diver!) It's been a while since he has had one, so we were terribly unprepared. 

All in all, it wasn't our best night.  Even Abby didn't speak all the way home! I think that Josh and I both have a little post traumatic stress disorder because he needed to talk about it again all morning and kept checking on James, and I'm considering leaving James's mattress in my room forever. 

A funny side note: James asked to take a warm bath this morning (which tells you how sore he is since he avoids any type of cleansing like the plague).  Josh didn't realize that he was even in the bath tub and went up to get ready for HIS three game series in the seeding jamboree.  He walked by the bathroom to see James floating FACE DOWN in the bathtub*.  He ran right in and pulled him out of the water, much to the irritation of James, who was enjoying being surrounded by the warm water on his sore head.  Josh was able to laugh about it once he realized what happened, but believe me, the migraine medication is packed right next his soccer cleats just in case.

*I do realize that it's SUPER weird that James likes to lie in the bath tub face down.  He has always liked it, and I could never take my eyes off him as a baby because he was always trying to dive in.  He's a weird kid.  What can I say?