Where the heck have you been?

So I love blogging and I used to have lots to say and post much more.... why have I come to a screeching halt?

My last post at the end of February was about managing my seasonal depression.  It got MUCH worse before it got better, I missed two weeks of work in March, but I survived until Spring Break.  I could write a whole post about depression, and maybe I will, but suffice it to say that I was just barely getting out of bed and managing to not cry.

We had a terrific cruise to the western Caribbean the first week of April and I felt like I could breathe again.

Then it was spring sports season:  Thomas played lacrosse, Tinsaye and Solomon played soccer.  No travel teams, nothing elaborate, but every single night was getting someone somewhere on time, with the right gear.  This also involved coordinating everyone's homework and projects so everything got done with whatever help was needed.  Plus dinner (must be healthy, inexpensive, reheatable and portable to accommodate whoever had to be somewhere or was coming home late).  All this after working all day.  And feeling crummy.
 
But more than anything else, my job completely sucked.  I'm not comfortable publishing too many details, but in a nutshell:  too many students, a few really awful parents, and a changing culture that has taken authority away from teachers and schools and expects no personal responsibility from or consequences for students.  Additionally, it appears that I have a complete inability to lower my standards and work less hard.  Top it off with the fact that I make less money every year and have no way to change that.  It was really, really bad.

However, I made it to June.  Somehow, we ALL made it to June.

You know what I've discovered in all this?  When our family was changing, when things were dramatic, I had a powerful sense that I was doing the right thing, that God was the driving force behind the miraculous stuff going on, that I could do it all with His help.  Brian and I were working together toward goals, seeing results, making things happen.  It was exciting!  When I was blown up or having a bad day, I still felt that push from God that He had a plan and I just had to rely on Him and I felt like I could do it.  This past year, nothing was new, changing, or dramatic.  It was just life.  Go to work/school, sports, homework, blah, blah, blah.  Kids need new shoes, buy a birthday present, we're out of bananas, reschedule the piano lesson, do a load of laundry.  "Pick up your coat, put that permission slip on the desk, no more cookies, clean out the litter box, and if I find toothpaste all over the bathroom again there are going to be some SERIOUS consequences!"  Nothing out of the ordinary was going on, I was just on the treadmill doing it all over and over every day.

I know this is where most people live most of their lives.  For me, this is WAY harder than living with some drama unfolding.  The monotony, the sameness, the static feeling makes me wonder why I'm doing it.  I very easily turn to self-pity and question the value of my days.  It feels like a spend all day at school saying the same things over and over to students who don't listen and then I go home and say the same things over and over to my kids who also don't listen.  Even worse, Brian feels the same way.  When we are being dragged down by the relentless kids-house-work-weekend grind we blame each other for our frustrations.  "If only you were more (fill in the blank), things would be better around here."  It's ridiculous, but we do it.

I want to rely on God more to show me the value and the joy in the boring stuff.  I need to pray more often for patience in the small and annoying things.  He has been so present, so powerful in all the big stuff, why do I think He's not around for the muddy shoes on the floor and the stupid snack I forgot to bring to soccer practice and the fourth reminder to practice your instrument?

This blog is called "Stepping Out Of The Boat", and we did a good job of that.  We stepped out, it turned out great, the end.  Only it's not the end:  the big drama is behind us and now we have to keep walking FOREVER with our eyes on the One who called us out and who is with us just as much now as He was then.  For some reason, I guess I forgot that when Peter got out of the boat he had to KEEP his eyes on Jesus to keep his head above water.  

I'm renaming this blog Stepping Out Of The Boat... and Then Continuing To Try To Not Fall Down And Drown While Walking For The Rest Of Your Life.  And now I'm going to try to do it. 

Winter Blues

January, February, and March are really terrible for me.  I struggle with seasonal depression and every year it gets a little worse.  January is usually pretty manageable because I get a decent momentum coming in from Christmas and I can generally count on a snow day or two.  March is usually super busy at school and that means more stress, but at least it goes by quickly, plus there's always at least a couple really sunny and warm days.  When Easter is early that helps too.  But there is just no getting around the fact that February is hideous.  It is cold, dark, gray, and ugly outside and somehow that just creeps inside me.  I always get sick in February and I don't get better for weeks.  My defective immune system is even more compromised when I am depressed.

This year has been the worst yet.  I wake up and sometimes lay there and cry because I can't face the day.   But I always manage to drag myself out of bed and put on my game face and use up every ounce of energy I have at school.  Then I come home and have nothing left emotionally for my family.  I am so tired I want to go directly to bed, but I manage to make dinner, get everyone where they need to be, pay the bills and answer the emails, then to to bed and start over the next day.  On the weekends, all I want to do is sleep.  I am in survival mode, and I am functioning so that everyone thinks it's all okay, but I am not enjoying anything and kind of avoid being with people.  Mostly I'd just rather sleep til spring.  Plus, we've had no snow days!  That's enough to make any teacher depressed!

Today is a good day.  I've upped my vitamin D and I'm forcing myself to exercise more.  I bought myself some new shoes this week which is really great because a) I actually wanted to go shopping and b) new shoes are a proven antidepressant (especially when you get them on clearance at DSW).  I spent and hour and half doing Tinsaye's hair this morning and I enjoyed my time alone with her and truly had fun.  When you are depressed, fun seems like something a million miles away.  I know I will feel down again, but today is good and I'm going to ride the wave.

I have so much to be grateful for that I feel bad about being depressed.  I don't talk about it with anyone except my sisters because there's nothing anyone can do and it somehow feels "weak".  Like if I could just pray harder or be more thankful I could just make it go away.  It's not completely debilitating because I manage to function, but the joy is missing.  Right now, I think it is just a chronic condition that I have to manage, like my arthritis.

The really good news is that in 35 days I will be laying on the deck of a Royal Caribbean cruise ship headed for Cozumel, Grand Cayman, and Jamaica, soaking up the sun and thinking about how I managed to make it through another winter. 

Why it's super cool to have ESL kids

I know that I'm supposed to be a loving mother and professional educator who respects the immense difficulty of children learning a new language.  But seriously, having English as a Second Language kids is really hilarious and very interesting to a word dork like myself. 

What is so funny is that they way they learned English is not the same way native speakers learned it.  They store words of similar sounds together in their brains, not necessarily having similar meanings.  For example, you probably have the words "lipstick" and "lip gloss" near each other in your brain.  Solomon has "lipstick" and "chopstick", "chapstick", and "ripstick" all stored in the same place (in case you don't have a boy in your house, a 'ripstick' is a cool new kind of skateboard with a pivoting center).  He often asks if he can eat his noodles with chapsticks or tells me that his lips are chapped and he needs lipstick or I kissed him and got chopstick all over his face.  He was mortified when we all laughed at him after we asked him what he wanted most for his birthday and he said, "A new lipstick!"  He is a really good sport about laughing at himself, and truly, his English is terrific.  He doesn't even qualify for English support anymore and hardly even has an accent.  But these odd little language quirks still happen and crack me up.

Tinsaye has had a harder time with English.  Her accent is still present and she still needs help in school.  Its unbelievable how much vocabulary we take for granted that kids know.  For example, she told me recently about a math test she took that one of the problems asked "Estimate the size of a blade of grass:  3 mm, 3cm, 3m or 3km".    She said, "I didn't know the word 'blade'.  I thought it meant like the big place of grass where you maybe play football or soccer...." I said, "You mean 'field'?"  She said, "Yes, 'field', but I didn't remember that word either, so I guessed 3km because that would be a really big grass place, but I was so scared that it was wrong so I asked my teacher what is 'blade' and he said it is the little stick of grass and then I was really happy I asked because I know it was NOT 3km for the small stick of grass it was 3cm and so I changed my answer and I got it right!"  She never used to want to ask for help, but fourth grade work is hard for her.  She has a lot of pride, but she has discovered that she'd rather feel dumb asking for help than feel dumb failing a quiz. 

Tinsaye's accent is still pretty heavy and somehow it gets more pronounced when she is angry.  We say she morphs from a nice American girl into The Angry Ethiopian.  She will come to me just howling with rage over something Thomas did to her (Thomas is always the instigator):  "Toe-mahs is making me so ingree!  He is always pooshing me and saying to me 'I get the rrrremote!" and I told him I vas vatching Vizzzzards of Vaverly Place and he said 'eees my turn, mom said' and I say 'noooo!' and he yinked the rrrrremote away and changed the channel to some stooopeeed  Deescohvery Channel show with bugs and when I got mad he is just LAUGHED at meeee!!"  It is very hard for me to not laugh too.  If I laugh, that is when The Angry Ethiopian morphs into The Sobbing Ethiopian.  That's not funny at all.   

MLK Day 2012

On Martin Luther King Day, 2010, we accepted the referral for Tinsaye and Solomon, forever changing all of our lives.  Here's the photo we had of them. 

All we knew was that they were brother and sister, mostly healthy, around 6 and 8 years old.  And that they needed a home.  Somehow, we said yes. 

On Martin Luther King Day, 2012, here is what they looked like:

 

 I often think "what if we had said 'no'?"  Where would they be today if our fear had been stronger than our faith?  If our worries had overcome our hope?  If the need for keeping things 'safe' and 'status quo' had been greater than our desire to do the right thing for people in need?   

More significantly, where would America be if Dr. King and all the civil rights activists had said 'no'?  If their fear and worry and safety had outweighed their faith and hope and action?  Personally, I know that we didn't act alone and I feel certain that they didn't either.  Their courageous choices changed the future. 

One of my favorite exhibits at The Henry Ford Museum is the Civil Rights exhibit.  When I see my four terrific kiddos hanging out of the window of the bus that Rosa Parks rode, I wish more than anything that I could go back in time to say thank you.  Her sacrifices made my family possible.