Oh glorious summer like day...how I wish you could go on, and on, and on. This time of year is such a struggle for me. Change. I love it, and hate it, all at once. And much much change is on the horizon. There are endings and beginnings a plenty, and while my work life revolves around them, in that they happen every year, with a new class and all, year, after year, after year...and you would think I would get used to them, somehow it seems, I don't. Perhaps it is because the changes, the endings, and the beginnings are magnified these days by my own children.

Next month,Gwynn leaves me behind in the Elementary School, forever, and Devin heads to High School, a mere 4 years from College. They are becoming real PEOPLE before my eyes, and I am humbled to think I have raised two people I am proud of, and enjoy, as much as I do these two. But still, when I sit back and think on it, as I did a great deal this weekend, I can't believe how fleeting it all is. When you have a child, you can't believe, and in my case, resent, how your life has changed forever. Now I can't imagine life any different than it is right now. It is perfect, it is a dream. And I know when I was the age they are at, life seemed to crawl at a snail's pace. Each year went on, and on, and on. But now, I know, each year is but a blip on the radar...each year flashes by at the speed of light, of life, and I intend, somehow, to slow it all down, to take it all in, to savor every moment. To be thankful for the happy little family I have worked so hard to create. To love.

Wastin' Time...

Felt like I was going to get so much accomplished this weekend. In fact, Tim and I made an exhaustive list on Saturday morning, knowing it was a bit ambitious, but also saying aloud to eachother not to worry, we'd get to it over the course of the WHOLE weekend. Well, here we are on Sunday evening, and I can say that truly, I have done about one and a half things that were, essentially, "mine" on the list. I, instead, spent my time wasting time.

Not that this was a problem at all.
In fact, both yesterday, and today, I feel like I totally lost track of time. Every now and again, when that happens, if you ask me, it is such a sweet escape.

Yesterday, after being up the road at my friend Mary's house for a little get together, I came home totally happy, and refreshed, and puttered around a bit while Tim napped and the kids hung in their rooms. When I looked at the clock, truly SHOCKED that it was 6:15 pm, my dinner plan to make Saurbraten was completely shot. Still, soup and grilled cheese sufficed for all, and we settled in to watch a movie with minimal kitchen cleanup. Winner winner, no fuss dinner.

Today, I stopped at Sue's house on my way to get groceries, and Gwynn played with Jillian for a while. It was so nice to kick back for a few, and talk, like we can't in our "7 minutes" at work everyday. A dragon berry lemonade and myriad topics later, I, again, was truly shocked when I looked at the clock and it was 2:30. I had lost time completely, and it was wonderful.

Life at times is so scheduled. The last two weeks at home have been hectic, like so many are. Then at work, with NYS Testing, things have been truly hellish. 6 days, 90 minutes each, over the course of 10 school days, with 9 and 10 year old children, was just plain too much. This time wastin' weekend was just what I needed even if I didn't know I needed it. Yep, Mick, sometimes, you really do get what you need.

When did it get so hard?

What I really want to know is when did a night of doing nothing become a night of cooking and cleaning up an entire meal, mowing the lawn, putting away scads of laundry, paying a couple of bills and cleaning a bathroom? When did I start seeing this as "not too much?" What did I DO with my time back in my twenties, when it was just the two of us, living in a barely two bedroom apartment with no lawn to speak of that we didn't even have the responsibility for?

All I want to do is finish the book that I have been trying to finish for the last two plus weeks, but of course those two plus weeks included parent teacher conference week at work, then vacation which we spent exploring and learning some more, in our nation's capitol.

Now were back, to work, and the routine, but the routine is also off kilter due to hours and hours of state testing that is going on in my classroom this week. And when, while we speaking of change and increase of responsibility here, did that get so out of control? I can think back to the days of 3rd grade PET testing, a one day cloze test, which was fairly innocuous, and which, quite frankly, allowed me some time to get some work done in my classroom. Now, our testing is more and more and more...about 9 hours when all is said and done this week with ELA...and I get less and less done.

Why?

Well, because I am policing the room like never before, cracking the whip on some, soothing the furrowed brow of others. It is a lesson in human sanity and tenacity and nothing else. I have been so proud of my fourth graders, for rising to the occasion, and truly doing their best. I don't know that I would have had the stamina they have had. They need to have even more for Book 3 tomorrow, the third and final task, and if you ask me, the hardest. I don't know why we ask it of them. I don't know what asking of them really does to their young minds, but yet, I, no we, labor on...and on...and on...and for what?

When did it get so hard?

...so bizarre that I sit here in my son's sweatshirt.

I came home from work today to 58 degrees and sunny...fabulous for March in Upstate NY, but not as warm as the 75 I was in at work all day, a mere 8 miles away. Still the lake is in the 40's, so a mix with warm air created an eerie fog, and, naturally, damp cold air as well. There was still sun, and it was so nice to sit outside, but I needed a sweatshirt. His was on the chair. I threw it on.

Only moments ago, simply sitting in the living room watching TV, did I take in how warm and cozy I was. And I realized, I am in my son's sweatshirt. The little boy I carried, is, these days, very nearly bigger than me. His sweatshirt, roomy. But warm. We're at that turning point, where I still protect him, I am his mom, I am his strength, but at times, now, I feel a reassuring pat from him as well. He has a way of knowing when I need time, to myself, or time with him. He sits close, snuggles and talks, or me gives space. I hope I give him the balance of space that he needs as well. I am still the mom, but we talk, at times, more like equals. He asks big questions, and instead of simplifying, I give him big answers.

Yep, that's our family, we talk, and talk, and talk. So much is happening, so much newness, so much change, everyday. He is getting older. It feels like time is just flying by. But it also feels like a whole new beginning.

On the heels of buying my son a pair of dress shoes in the same size my husband wears, I needed some retail therapy myself and bought these cute as heck black silk shantung espadrilles. It was a beautiful sunny day today, and realistically, I could even wear these to work this week, if my toenails were in any way ready to see the light of day. But I think they were my little pick me up for today, and I will save their debut for a day when it is more truly spring...not just a somewhat perplexing seasonal confusion like this week feels.

Driving home from our shopping trip, I had some great music playing, the sun was bright in the sky, and Devin was next to me, but quiet, as he was engrossed in The Hunger Games. ("Mom, Dad, this book is SO good!!!" No, really? Didn't we TELL you you should read it a month or more ago? Ahhh, the satisfaction of finding something on your own...) I was thinking fondly of my new shoes, and also got to thinking of my fourth grade teacher...always interesting to think back on your own teachers, in particular when you are one yourself.

Mrs. Snover was not a teacher I disliked, or liked, really. When I think of her she is just kind of neutral, but I have two very distinct memories nonetheless. One involved a note written to her, by my friend Sally and myself, explaining to her that we really were not happy with our placement in a cooperative group with a boy in our class named Harold. And no, I am not making these names up...weird ones even for the 70's, eh? Harold, infamously, peed his pants in front of the class while giving a book report, and in our letter, we wrote a sentence that we found quite eloquent. "Quite frankly, we both feel he has BO." I remember giving her the letter and standing there while she read it. I was quizzically reading her body language and had no idea why, at one point, a ways into the letter, she seemed to, almost, laugh. She finished reading letter, then gently informed Sally and myself that she would not be changing the groups, but that the groups would not be forever, and weren't we at least happy to be seated together. Life went on. We survived Harold. We did get moved, eventually. Still, that possible laugh on her part, it haunted me.

The other memory, she wore high heels to work every day, but changed into well worn blue canvas espadrilles that she kept beneath her desk every day in the afternoon.

I think I understand Mrs. Snover now.

No day but today.

Days don't get much better than high 60's in Upstate NY in the middle of March. It was fortunate that some friends of ours stopped by unexpectedly because it at least got me outside. Gwynn had her friends here to (not) sleep over and I was up, buzzing on little girl energy myself, until about 2 am, which, with the time change, was actually 3. They were up at 7, left around 11. I cleaned up, got some laundry started, and watched a DVD with Gwynn. She drifted off on the couch, and I was close behind, but then, thankfully, Val and Roger and their dog, stopped by. I got outside. I got a zap of sun energy. I spent the rest of the day pretty productively. I will surely be OUT on the couch in an hour or so, but still...no day but today.

The DVD Gwynn and I enjoyed today was Idina Menzel "Barefoot at the Symphony," full of music from Broadway...Wicked, Rent, Chess...standards and "others"...truly an eclectic mix. It was just released, and Tim pre-ordered it for me from Amazon for my birthday. It arrived yesterday. It was really the sweetest gift, as this was a recording, done in Toronto, but from the symphony tour we saw in Buffalo in September. A way to re-visit one of our "epic adventures" that are so much a part of "us."

Today, watching it, I was welling up just as much, if not more, than the night we were at Kleinhann's Music Hall. Her voice, her acting ability, her lyrical interpretation, the songs themselves. It all just moved me, as music always does. And let's face it, on the eve of my baby boy turning 14, and on the wave of very little sleep, well, let's just say, emotion was close to the surface. The kids always laugh, a little uncomfortably, at me when I cry. They are not nasty or chiding in any way, but, obviously, they are wondering what is wrong. To them crying is for the sad times, for the bad times. If they only knew, yet, I am glad that they don't. They have the most beautiful lives. I am so blessed...and let's not candy coat it. It has been hard work these last 14 years, but I think Tim and I have created just what we always wanted. A family.

No day but TODAY!

There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret-- or life is yours to miss.
No other road
No other way
No day but today

There's only yes
Only tonight
We must let go
To know what is right
No other course
No other way
No day but today

I can't control
My destiny
I trust my soul
My only hope
is just to be

There's only now
There's only here
Give in to love
Or live in fear
No other path
No other way
No day but today

Jonathan Harris : Today