i feel like i am going to pop.
i literally lumber down the hallway,
my swollen feet trying to support
this 30lb. baby-ball that my womb has become.
it was over 100 degrees today
and i was feeling a bit blue until
i created this post for color week.
today is shades-of-blue day.
check out other blues here, here, and here
my baby-kitten shortie at the annual pool party last week.
i went and swam and caught up with the happenin's and goin' ons.
ripe apricots from the farmers' market
a year has gone by since i last did color week.
andrea has started the challenge this time
and i am loving the distraction from my
ever-growing-belly.
see you tomorrow for tuesday blues...
"dear ms. k."
the email read,
"i miss you.
how is the baby doing?
i thought you said we were your children.
you said we were family.
love, na-na."
how do tell a third grader,
who has abandonment issues,
that i am not leaving her forever?
how do i tell a child who
i have dearly loved since i
first saw her beautiful, smarmy grin
five years ago,
that i will always be in her life?
last week was hard.
i wanted to drive to the school
and tell them one more time
how proud i am of them.
i wanted to go read their writing and
be amazed at their creativity.
i wanted to make sure i have hugged
each one of them enough to last until
i come back to visit.
and then,
start all over again.
sigh.
this is harder than i thought it would be.
the smell of the ocean
as the waves crash across the sand.
the freshness of the farmers' market
produce nurturing the body and soul.
fire-hydrants bringing communities
together as everyone cools off in the spray.
eating homemade ice cream and hanging out on
the front porch with the neighbors.
soft-shell crab sandwiches and lemonade.
summer is here ya'll!
woot! woot!
what is your favorite part of summer?
i went in yesterday to make
sure the new teacher
felt comfortable with
the routine of the shorties' day.
she had written a beautiful
morning messsage in
bright, welcoming colors.
she conducted the
morning circle with ease.
i quietly packed up
my pictures and
notes from five years
of shortie-love.
i put the piggy-bank
that the shorties started
to fill for our son's
college tuition in my bag,
gathered all of the cute
baby clothes and blankets
that the parents brought me,
and closed the door behind me.
my girls from last year caught me
at the front door as they were leaving the gym.
tears.
"don't leave us."
"don't go."
making me feel very loved yet
also like the biggest jerk ever
as we stood there with our
arms around each other.
i left this place of
learning and laughter,
celebration and collaboration,
that i have seen each morning for five years.
i left behind the last six weeks of school
and drove home to my new life.
as lou reed sings,
"this is the beginning of a
great adventure..."
this month's self portrait challenge
is to reveal your environment.
"this friday?"
said my most thoughtful shortie.
"yes," i replied through my tears
after i announced that i would
only be their teacher for
one more week.
"but we have seven weeks of school left",
she said, staring at me,
the biggest traitor that she has ever met.
"i worked so hard to get into third grade
and be in your class,"
her shoulders shaking,
"and now you are leaving me."
the kleenex box made its way
around the circle of small hands
as they consoled each other,
"well at least we have one more week together."
how do i make them believe that
i am leaving so that i can be ready
to take care of my new shortie
growing in my belly?
how can they understand that
i am proud of them?
"is it because of our behavior?"
they look at me with hurt faces.
i am letting them down.
"i love you.
you have made me proud.
you are my little chickens."
tears again.
all of us.
"will you be our teacher next year?"
"that is the plan," i lie.
i can't tell them the truth.
the truth that i have decided to stay
at home next year with my boy
and soak in the amazement of motherhood.
i don't even know if i have faced that truth myself.
it is surreal to think that i won't be walking through
those doors each morning to hugs and hand-made notes
telling me how much i am loved.
a part of my heart is being torn away.
and a whole new life is beginning.
lazily floating on the river all day,
snacking endlessly on
fresh local strawberries,
peanut-butter cookies,
and grapefruit spritzers
(substituting for beer this year).
this is how i start the
wait for summer,
camping with my peeps in
a huge open meadow on
the rappahanock river in
tappahanock, virginia.
good conversation.
good food.
amazing friends,
old and new.
to date, our son has cooked for
33 weeks in my belly.
4 more weeks to go before
the official wait-for-arrival begins.
this summer will bring on a
celebration of life and family.
this month's self portrait challenge
is to show what is special to you in your environment.
to show how you are celebrating the new season in your part of the world.
join in on the fun and check out
other spc-ers in their surroundings here.
(photo credit for capturing my gorgeous belly
goes to kimmy over at shimmer glimpse)
jack plays baseball out here with his mom and dad.
one day, the triplets will play out here, too.
they'll shout up to our kitchen window to see if
our boy can come down and play but
he'll already be halfway there.
cousins will come over and they will
scream and shout as they
throw water balloons and
draw with sidewalk chalk.
alleys are the place to be in the city.
a place to hang and catch up with the
neighbors as your kid practices
on his new training wheels
racing the others to the
next lamp post.
we dream and hope and
nest and build and fall in love
over and over every day.
life is good.
crazy good.
the self portrait challenge this month
is to capture yourself somehow, somewhere on the street.
check out more street shots here at the
self portrait challenge site.
some of my shorties made me a picture for mother's day.
on this day, and every day,
i think we should take their advice and
"shake [what] your mama gave you..."
happy mothers' day to
all women everywhere.
we have all been a mother at some time
to someone somewhere.
happy mothers' day
to my two mothers,
ellen and aunt kathi.
millie, my cousins' daughter,
is home.
she is beautiful
and has stolen
all of our hearts.
she smells so good as she
snuggles into her blanket,
making faces as she dreams
about eating and sleeping
and whatever else babies
have in their baby-schema
of life.
just wanted to let folks know.
(actually she has been home for
over a week now...)
(click here to read about it.
make sure you scroll down to get all of the
welcome-home-goodness!)
note: millie is the daughter
of my cousin, talley, and her
husband, robby.
our son is still a-cookin' and has about three months to go...
my cousin had her baby on
monday the 16th just after noon.
7 lbs, 5 oz.,
millie is beautiful like her parents
with her chubby cheeks and cute little nose.
talley's sister, suzie, my other cousin,
is here from yosemite
to help mama while she heals from a cesarian.
papa is with millie at another hospital
as she heals from surgery that
mended a spinal lesion.
she came through like a champ.
prayers are greatly appreciated.
good vibes are wonderful, too.
keep this sweet family in your thoughts
as they see the tiniest angel of our clan through this hard time.
(click on suziehulahoop or robbyblog in my link list to read more)
cherry blossom hunting with my girls in d.c.,
rocking the smithsonian museum of natural history,
eating ten dollars worth of doritos,
and washing it down with
mango gelato.
going to a sikh wedding and then
seeing the same couple marry the
next night for a western wedding
along with friends, new and old.
baby showers and family.
girl-cousin's only weekend.
mother daughter weekend.
friends visiting from portland.
food. swimming. laughing.
more laughing.
belly laughing, i tell you...
it was a great spring break.
tomorrow.
starts a new session.
deep heart digging
and trust-building.
wish us luck.
i love being pregnant.
i adore my belly.
i giggle everytime i feel our boy
move and wiggle and dance.
this photo was taken by
my cousin's husband
last sunday.
(for bigger views click
here and here.)
talley and robby will meet
their sweet baby next monday!
go talley! go talley!
(doin' the baby dance fer ya'!)
today, i soaked in the bliss
of taking a nap with my man and
two bad, but sweet-when-sleeping kitties,
and paul's hands on my belly waiting for
the next kick, hiccup, or stretch
that has been occuring inside.
i love having two weeks to reflect
on the progress that the shorties have made.
the last five days of our session were good.
but it was exhausting making that true.
encouragement and kind words
thoughtfully came from their mouths
and, i honestly think, from their hearts, too.
could they be getting it?
will they forget the peace they found
over the break?
i have a plan for our return.
our last expedition for the year will
be to focus on peace and how it is achieved.
reflect.
breathe.
open the heart.
breathe.
feel the love.
believe.
our boy-shortie is on the move.
he kicks and taps and dances
to let me know that he is there.
growing.
getting strong.
becoming the child that we have waited so long for.
i can't wait to hold him in my arms and
spend the day amazed at how much i love him.
but until then,
i will hold him here
in my belly
and spend the day
amazed at how much i love him
already.
check out other body parts here at the
self portrait challenge site.
this weeks self-portrait shows
how i have been feeling:
on display.
testing, and the preparation to get there,
stresses a teacher out.
our test scores are published
in the local paper and
available on the internet for all to see
and compared to other state schools.
these numbers threaten the future of our school;
threaten my career.
my school only has one third grade class.
my shorties' scores are not combined
with any other class.
we are solo.
we are on our own.
however, our scores don't show
how well my children can write haikus
and work out a math problem with a partner.
the test doesn't measure how late a child had
to stay up to take care of a very sick grandmother/guardian.
they don't care if a cousin or father or mother
was shot as they walked to their car the day before.
the numbers don't show the fatigue of a child
who has no bedtime, or no bed for that matter.
the shorties are timed, stressed out and under pressure.
i don't know about you,
but when i am under pressure and have a deadline
i talk to my friends and colleagues to help me.
i bounce ideas off of others so that i can
think clearly and rationally.
state testing need to be re-thought.
education, as an institution, needs to remember
that it is about the children,
period,
instead of always trying to make the grownups look good.
shame on the tall-ees.
for this weeks online-enhancement, i used the cool dumpr site.
check out more groovy mugs here at the
self portrait challenge site.
sunday.
time for deep breathing and silence.
coffee with chocolate soy milk
and extra snuggle time with my man
while kitties tumble around at our feet.
state-testing is over
and tomorrow starts a new week.
a week without crying in
my principal's office,
"i just can't do it."
i sobbed, "i need someone to take them for
an hour. i need to be away from them."
a week where i practice my ever-dwindling patience.
we'll take a spring walk and plant seeds.
we'll dye eggs in honor of easter and
the blooming of our environment.
we'll continue our quest for classroom peace.
not friendship. just peace.
friendship takes time.
but peace. citizenship. the art of being cordial.
that is my goal.
ok.
i am lying.
i want my shorties to love each other.
i want them to work together and share their thinking.
i want them to greet each other with hugs and kind words,
not sneakiness, undermining and full-on-hating.
i want them to feel it in their hearts, not just say what they think i want to hear.
i want them to be my old class.
there. i said it.
but if i say it out loud, i will cry again.
so i will stick with the simple goal of just peace.
even if it isn't in their hearts.
for now.
trust me. i will not settle.
it happens at night when
i am trying to fall asleep
and i can't stop
giggling.
i can feel bumping
and light tap-a-tap-tapping
on my hip bone.
i wake up in the morning
and am shocked at the
size and roundness of my belly
as i walk past the mirror.
22 weeks pregnant.
and i am loving every
moment of it.
for this weeks self-portrait challenge, i used a combination of
scribbler and captioner by flickr toyz.
check out more online enhanced self-portraits here at the
self portrait challenge site.
"aren't we a family?
and aren't families s'posed to
be nice to each other?"
said my most emotional shortie,
to his classmates,
after a really rough afternoon.
i keep telling them
that they are good at
talkin' the talk
but i want more walkin'.
"you are the masters of your destiny,"
i say to them slowly.
they can say the words:
"if we can take care of each other
then we can have a
peaceful classroom community."
"i know i had a bad day ms. k.,
but i promise i will never be
disrespectful to you or the class again."
now. if they can just start doing it.
my old shorties (now in 5th - 7th grades)
offer to come and talk to my current
third graders about how to be peaceful.
i am going to take them up on it.
because, for some reason
this class just isn't getting it.
i am exhausted after the first hour of the day.
i try to stay positive.
i light candles and play the sounds of the ocean.
i write my morning message,
filling my heart with hope that maybe,
just maybe,
today will be different.
and then, i pick them up downstairs.
i am greeted with:
"she said that i look ugly today!"
"yeah...well she told everyone my mother used to
beat me when i was in kindergarten."
"shane is crying because walter was teasing
him about having no lunch money and now
shane has to eat peanut butter and jelly."
"lynette kicked me. yes. she meant it!"
when i get to the room, i fill out
two referrals to the office,
one nurse slip,
and give shane money for lunch.
taking a deep breath,
my hope is gone.
this is every morning in my classroom.
and i just can't shake it.
what is wrong?
where is the comraderie?
have i lost my touch?
will they ever understand that
peacefulness will get them everywhere?
sigh.
tomorrow starts a new week.
hopehopehopehopehope.
we are the masters of our destiny.
(baby brown, one of my old shorties, visiting me after school)
mmm hmmm.
yup.
we're having a boy!
i squinted and looked at the screen
where the technician was pointing
and saw "it".
(i dare not say scrotum or else
my blog may be banned across the country)
so, through bites of my tri-hourly snacks,
my quest to find the coolest cowboy boots
in little cutie-pahtootie sizes begins.
i am submitting this self-portrait for this month's self-portrait challenge.
my cheeks are full of juicy plum as i try to get
my daily amount of good nutrition.
surf through more online enhanced self-portraits here at the
self portrait challenge site.
i swiped the following
story from jill.
(this is a variation on a story originally
told by poet, taylor mali)
this was motivating for me,
a teacher, in the middle
of winter, waiting
for spring as the shorties
hit the wall two weeks before
state testing.
WHAT DO TEACHERS MAKE?
The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life.
One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education.
He argued, "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided
his best option in life was to become a teacher?”
He reminded the other dinner guests
what they say about teachers:
"Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach."
To stress his point he said to another guest,
"You're a teacher. Be honest. What do you make?”
The teacher replied, "You want to know what I make?
She paused for a second, then began ...
"Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I make a C+ feel like the Congressional Medal of Honor.
I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time
when their parents can't make them sit for 5
without an iPod, Game Cube or movie rental.
You want to know what I make?"
She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table.
"I make kids wonder.
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions.
I teach them to write and then I make them write.
I make them read, read, read.
I make my students from other countries
learn everything they need to know in English while
preserving their unique cultural identity.
I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe.
Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts
they were given, work hard, and follow their hearts,
they can succeed in life."
The teacher paused one last time and then continued...
"Then, when people try to judge me by what I make,
I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because
they are ignorant. You want to know what I make?
I MAKE A DIFFERENCE.
What do you make?"
"everything is exactly as it should be
at this time of your pregnancy,"
my midwife stated yesterday
as she measured
my growing middle
and found my uterus
two fingers under
my bellybutton.
the heartbeat was music to my ears
as i held my breath so i could catch
each miraculous second of the sound.
this week, we are developing fingerprints
and handprints and tiny, sweet feetprints
as the amniotic fluid swirls around
each tiny part.
thrilled.
overwhelmed.
in love.
round.
check out more black and white self-portraits here at the
self portrait challenge site.
absolutely ridiculous (read this).
argh.
what other word,
besides "scrotum"
should we use for that
part of the body?
"down there"?
"between the legs"?
"near his you-know-what"?
won't your child want to know
exactly where THERE and WHAT is?
is it so harmful for children
to know the proper names
for body parts?
i guess my nieces will
be in therapy for a long time
as they refer to their vaginas
as *gasp* vaginas!
eek!
what profanity!
how will they ever be normal?
if my new shortie-to-be is
a boy...will i have to think
of ways to avoid telling him
the different names for his
body parts?
nose...ears...arms...legs...um...well...er, i...uh...
i say, buy it!!!!
read it aloud!
request it in your local library
if it is not there.
schools closed.
my man had the day off.
the alarm was turned to silent
and we slept until 10.
the world outside glimmering
under it's crust of snow and ice.
i soak in these moments
of pre-baby-ness.
i let the quiet and the warmth
of wraparoundeachother sink in
as we breathe our deep sleep breathing.
after a morning of
heart-shaped banana pancakes
and warm maple syrup,
we watched
like water for chocolate
wrapped in a down comforter.
combination
snow day/valentines' day
is the best, ya'll.
pair by platform-strappy-high-heel pair
i packed them into their boxes
as i said goodbye until
next year.
we are nesting.
getting ready for
wall smashing
and drywall cutting.
occasionally, i stop to
rub my beautiful, round belly
as i pack away all of
the clothing that my
growing pregnant arse cannot fit into
until after our
sweet angel
is in our arms
and my jogging stroller
is assembled.
check out more black and white portraits here at the
self portrait challenge site.
"i am sure that i don't have to
warn you about this...but you know",
i said, cautiously,
after we talked about
the new chapter in her life,
"now that you get your period,
you could get pregnant if
you were intimate with a boy."
i know.
but i am not like that, ms. k."
"i believe you",
i say as i think about all the boys
she talks about with her friends
and the unsupervised afternoons
after school and no parent is
wondering where she is.
plus. if i WERE to get pregnant,
i know he better give me $600 for an abortion."
she says,
hands on her hips,
eyebrows raised in all seriousness.
silence.
not what i was expecting from
the mouth of a ten-year-old.
post read-aloud shortie conversation:
"if i were alive back then,
i would have punched anyone
if they told me i coudn't go
into a restaurant or bathroom."
"i would have gone in anyway."
"you might have been killed!
you would have been scared."
"it was dangerous to fight.
if you did, you would be hurt
real bad."
"people had to be brave.
that is why we have our school today
and we can go anywhere we want."
looking out at my shorties,
after reading a story about the
life of the late, greatest,
courageous martin luther king,
i was glad for their gumption and pluck.
glad knowing that if martin
could hear them
he would know that his fight
was worth every step.
worth every sleepless night.
worth every second spent
summoning courage to face
what was overwhelmingly
wrong.
martin would be as proud
as i am to hear
my shorties say,
"...we can go anywhere we want."
yes, my sweet babies.
you can.
to the moon and back home again.
happy birthday, dr. king.
thank you.
each january
i begin the new year
with promises of ramping up
my excersise routine.
i run harder, faster longer
breathing in the cool winter air.
but this january
cream cheese on crackers,
mango fruit bars
and bubbie's pickles from whole foods,
odwalla protein shakes,
and coldcoldcold grapes
are what i live on now.
yoga pants with the fold down waist
and my softest cotton shirts
are what i live in now.
i have not been running
but sleeping most of the days
of my three-week break
from the shorties.
sleeping and eating
and trying not to hurl.
however,
i have not been a total sloth.
for eleven weeks
i have been working hard.
i have developed
a larynx
a brain
toes
fingers
and one beating heart.
on the first of december
i watched the two lines appear
on the white stick
as i unbelievably cried
and held my belly.
one month plus one day
after my first appointment
with my acupuncturist,
we concieved.
we are due in late july.
hee...
this new year, i will be pampering myself.
i will be preparing and reflecting
on the arrival of my very own shortie.
see more new year's resolutions here at the
self portrait challenge site.
the red and green sugar
has been swept off the floor.
red hots that melted
in a puddle of sugar cookie frosting
have been scraped from the
desktops.
"maria and jose'"
asked for shelter as we
went from one classroom to another,
passing out treats and singing
"o pueblecito de belen"
in little excited voices,
knowing that our posada would end
in the demolition of our carefully packed pinata.
our interview questions for the january webcam meeting
of the second-grade esl students in texas
wait in a pile on my desk for our return:
"do you really put your shoes outside for the three wise men to fill?"
"aren't you afraid someone will steal your shoes?"
"do you celebrate las posadas?"
"where do you sleep?"
"do you celebrate our lady of guadalupe like we read in the books?"
grades have been recorded and
our stained-glass windows have been taken down.
i will spend the next three weeks of this session break
building on the hope that we will learn to take care of each other.
someday.
i will reflect and research and pull on every creative resource i can
to make next session better than any winter session ever.
i will remember how far we have already come
as i see each shortie's face in my dreams.
i am posting this from an email sent out from my school.
some of you are on that email list and may have already heard this news.
i have not written in the last week as my heart has been full of sadness for my friend.
Dear Friends,
As you may have heard, our kindergarten teacher, Marsha Cozart, lost her three year old son when he was hit by a car in his stroller last Friday afternoon. Her mother, who was with him, was injured. We have all felt overwhelmed by this incredible tragedy and have been looking to help in any way possible. Due to funeral expenses (there was no life insurance policy) and medical expenses (her mother didn't have health insurance), we have established a memorial fund to help the Cozart family meet these financial needs in the midst of their grief. If you wish to make a contribution you can send checks payable to:
New Song Community Learning Center
1530 Presstman St.
Baltimore, MD 21217
Please write Elijah Cozart Memorial Fund in the memo line. Donations will not be tax deductible because they are going to an individual.
i am thankful for
the love of my life.
my husband rocks.
just when i don't
think i could possibly
love someone more,
i find that i can.
i am grateful for
my family.
i find strength in them.
i am appreciative of their wisdom and love.
i am thankful for
the shorties all.
the tough ones and the
ones that throw their arms
around me each day.
i am humbled and rewarded
by the lessons
they teach me.
i have a (leaky) roof over my head
and food in my belly.
i am warmed by clean flannel sheets,
a purring cat by my toes,
and the spooning of my man each night.
i am breathing deeply
and aware. so very aware.
happy thanksgiving to everyone everywhere.
peace. 
on this election day
(and deadline for
this week's self portrait challenge)
i am proud of the women
who fought so hard
to earn all women everywhere
the right to vote.
the following is an excerpt that was sent
in an email from one of the strongest women i know:
"The women were innocent and defenseless. And by the end of the night, they were barely alive. Forty prison guards wielding clubs and their warden's blessing went on a rampage against the 33 women wrongly convicted of "obstructing sidewalk traffic."
They beat Lucy Burn, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head and left her hanging for the night, bleeding and gasping for air. They hurled Dora Lewis into a dark cell, smashed her head against an iron bed and knocked her out cold. Her cellmate, Alice Cosu, thought Lewis was dead and suffered a heart attack. Additional affidavits describe the guards grabbing, dragging, beating, choking, slamming, pinching, twisting and kicking the women.
Thus unfolded the Night of Terror on Nov. 15, 1917, when the warden at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia ordered his guards to teach a lesson to the suffragists imprisoned there because they dared to picket Woodrow Wilson's White House for the right to vote.
For weeks, the women's only water came from an open pail. Their food--all of it colorless slop--was infested with worms. When one of the leaders, Alice Paul, embarked on a hunger strike, they tied her to a chair, forced a tube down her throat and poured liquid into her until she vomited. She was tortured like this for weeks until word was smuggled out to the press.
So, refresh my memory. Some women won't vote this year because--why, exactly? We have carpool duties? We have to get to work? Our vote doesn't matter? It's raining?"
i voted today.
and as i walked to the polls,
i smiled, knowingly, at each
woman that i passed.
and each woman smiled back.
check out other shots o' glamour here.
pumpkin ale.
chocolate.
glitter.
arched-backed kitties.
it's the most wonderful time of the year.
