Footprints Dance Alliance – God Is My Co-Pilot

From the moment we found out we were having a baby, BJ and I said that we didn’t care what it was, we just wanted our kid(s) to find something that they were passionate about and do it to the best of their ability.  They don’t have to be the best player on the field or the best dancer on stage, they just have to try.  And care.  For Caroline, right now, that passion is dance.

Caroline has grown so much this past year with dance.  Not only has she proven that she might not be so bad, she LOVES to perform (practicing isn’t her strongest suit – we’re working on a better practice attitude).  She ROCKED her dance recital this year – dancing in four (4) dances! She knew all the moves (and lyrics to the songs), tapping her way through “NY, NY”, jamming out to “Party in the USA” finding her own moves in her Hip Hop routine and arabesquing to “Que Sera, Sera”.  The hardest part of the recital was getting her hair to stay back.  And in true Caroline fashion, she somehow managed to lose her hair piece and costume accessory half-way through ACT ONE.   As I was dropping her off, her little lip quivered, her little eyes welled up and she said, “Mommy, I just don’t think I can do this” to which I replied, “Of course you can.  Sing as loud as you can and dance your heart out”.  And she did.  She knew every single. step.  And she did them.  It was incredible to see her let loose on stage and just have fun.  Just be herself.  Just dance.

She reminds me every day that having fun and living life to the fullest is what it really is all about.  I’m so lucky to be her Mama.

For the past two years, Caroline’s dance teacher, Bonnie Dixon, has asked me to write a poem at the opening for the recital.  I’ve been honored.  This year’s recital was entitled “God Is My Co-Pilot” – and to me, that had many meanings.  First, I’m not in charge.  And second, He’s got her.  As soon as she told me what the theme of the recital was, I knew what I wanted to write.  It took a while for it to all come together.  But here it is – thank you, Footprints, for another incredible year of dance!

God Is My Co-Pilot

She slips on her shoes as I fasten her bun
I kiss her cheek and tell her, “Have Fun!”

She struts to the stage with a smile wide and bright

I’m amazed at her beauty as she shines in the light

I watch as she twirls and taps from the start
Concentrating hard to remember her part

Skipping and weaving, releve and flex
She flings her arms wide in a perfect arabesque

Over her feet does she stumble

To the floor does she tumble

In my seat do I fumble

“Dear Lord” I hear her mumble

“Lift me up as I dance for You in Your glory
Lift me up as I dance in praise of Your story

Hold me up as I turn, hold me tight as I leap
Give me the guidance I need to stand tall on my feet
I pray that You’ll be the music I hear
The song of my heart, calming my fears
You’ll take control of my life and show me the way
With Your powerful love and amazing grace”

And as she scooped herself up and found her place

There was a knowing look across her sweet face
In His hands, she is safe inside
God is her co-pilot and I’m along for the ride
The Lord of the Dance has everything under control
So all is well within Mama’s soul.

She’s in position, so beautiful, so bright
I hold my breath and watch her take flight.

For more information on Footprints Dance Alliance, visit their website *here*!

Winter Weather Advisory

Yes.  I’m irritated.  I have a  million things to do at school right now.  Grade papers.  Organize elections.  Plan lessons.  Teach the children.  Okay, maybe not a million.  But I have a pretty long list of things that take up time, energy, and space within my brain that need to be accomplished.  Sooner rather than later.  And it’s not so easy to just pick up where we left off.

Last week, three days.  I missed three days with my students because of ice.  And it was only really bad for like one and three quarters days at my house. So, I should’ve been able to be back at work teaching a day and a quarter.  I should have been there, preparing.  Prepping.  Expostulating. Two days.  I got two days back with my students.  Interrupted, of course, by a weekend.  That was the last thing I needed was a weekend.  To sit around and not do any of the things I should have done while I was home not doing the things I needed to be doing.

Winter. Weather. Sucks.

Not only do I now have to prepare lessons from home for my 135 students – lessons that may or may not have anything to do with what I am currently teaching because I have to stop and restart and stop and restart my teaching, planning, prepping, and regroup continuously – with two children vying for every waking second of my attention, I now I have to complete Pre-K homework online with my 5 year old which consists of going outside feeling, tasting, smelling, holding, and melting the. snow. And create a predictions chart.

Not to mention scrounge something for dinner only to realize I didn’t feed the baby lunch and that is probably why she won’t stop crying and continues to find her way into the pantry pointing aimlessly and saying “schnack”.

I just stepped in yogurt.  And the baby colored on the sofa.  And there is chocolate milk in the five-year-old’s hair (how the hell did that happen?).  I need to scream.  Or cry.  Or drink.

This wasn’t what I had in mind six weeks ago when I was begging for a few extra days home.

But then again – nothing about life is really on our time, in our plan or by our design, is it?  When I beg for a snow day, it’s to snuggle and play and reconnect with my family.  It’s to drink extra coffee, catch up on TV, read an extra book.  This past week has been so stressful – power outages, boredom, whininess.  Obsession over getting everything done.  Not getting anything done.  Having zero motivation to do anything but sit.

Perhaps, unbeknownst to me, that was what I needed.  To sit.  To think.  Perhaps, the eighteen hours of no power or heat or a shower was my reset.  And these days where the roads aren’t bad here but they are somewhere else is God telling me slow down.  Take it easy.  Instead of a whisper, perhaps He’s yelling at the top of His lungs:  I am here.  I am holding on to you.  I am in control.

Perhaps the snow dusted trees bruised by the weight of the ice storm last week is merely God saying:  Remember me?

The Winter Weather is not convenient.  Or appreciated.  Or welcome.

But God’s love is.

And there is no greater illustration of God’s love for me than the gift of my children.  So, I’m going to go clean up after them – and I’m going to turn our living room into an incredible Wonderland of games and music and snacks where giggles and silliness and excitement will echo.  And I’m going to make hot chocolate and apple cider and whip up some cookies.

Because tomorrow, I may be back at school wishing I had taken in more of the moments I was given today.  So, excuse me – I have a tea party to plan … and attend.

For When You Are Sixteen …

To my beautiful daughters:  the world can be your stage – it can also be your biggest critic.  Trust Mommy when I say, some of these lessons I’ve learned the hard way.  I know that shielding you from pain is not in your best interest but life is precious and meant to be fun and explored and lived.  As you grow into beautiful, productive women who contribute to the world, I want you to remember a few things.  And I want you to know them when you are sixteen – so that maybe, my words will permeate your thoughts and heart and soul and as you grow and explore and learn, you will remember that Mama told you:

1. Boyfriends do not get husband privileges.
2. Just because he smells good doesn’t mean you can lose all your senses.
3. Be cautious.
4. Be gentle.
5. Be honest.
6. Be authentic.
7. Sometimes, just. be. still.
8. Pray.  Daily.  For everyone.
9. Be smart.  The world respects smart women.
10. Just because you are smart doesn’t mean that you have to lose your femininity.  The two are not mutually exclusive.
11. Throw caution to the wind.
12. Allow your heart to be broken.
13. Break someone else’s heart.  But not too many times.
14. Dance.
15. Be kind.
16. Be fair.
17. Lose your senses about a boy.
18. Love hard.
19. Love strong.
20. Love fierce.
21. Love yourself.
22. Read the classics.
23. Read a trashy romantic novel every once and while.
24. Daydream about those trashy romance novel scenes.
25. Realize that books and movies are made up.  Real life isn’t like that.
26. Understand that if you wait long enough for the right person, real life is way better than those romantic novels and movies.
27. Learn to cook.  More than just sandwiches and frozen waffles.
28. Learn to change a tire.
29. Pay for the date.
30. Date a man that won’t let you pay.
31. Call your Dad.  He loves you.
32. Trust your sister.  She’s one of the few you can trust.
33. Learn to write thank you notes.  And do it.
34. Call your grandparents.
35. Laugh.  Laugh a lot.
36. Find a friend who isn’t the coolest but who is super cool to you.
37. Do your own laundry.
38. Save your money.
39. Eat lunch (or dinner) in a restaraunt by yourself.  At least once a quarter.
40. Read everything.
41. Stay up on the news and politics.
42. Don’t let friends borrow money & expect to be repaid.
43. Learn to drive a stick shift.
44. Take an art class.
45. Get too much sun.
46. Drink too much beer (when you are of age).
47. Journal.  And journal.  And journal.
48. Take a picture of yourself on every birthday.
49. Don’t tell everyone your secrets.
50. Eat healthy and establish healthy habits.
51. Learn to love running.   When you are 35, it will be the only exercise that really works.
52. Eat the damn cupcake.
53. Celebrate everything life has to offer.
54. Be careful about over indulging.
55. Know about Pop Culture.
56. Don’t only know about Pop Culture.
57. Study history.
58. Create. Create. Create.
59. There is a difference between real friends and your girls.  Know that difference.
60. Your value is not determined by your looks.
61. Your value is not determined by your profession.
62. Your value is not determined by your net worth.
63. Your value is not determined by your possessions.
64. Your value is not determined by your friend group.
65. Your value is determined by your character.
66. Pay for someone else’s dinner.  Annoynmously.
67. Indulge.
68. Order appetizers.  When you have the money.
69. Be resourceful.
70. And cheap.
71. Drink coffee.
72. Have an opinion.
73. Be learned on the things you have an opinion about.
74. Don’t settle.  In anything.  For anyone.
75. Marry a man that cooks.
76. Don’t smoke.
77. At least once a month, spend the entire weekend in your pajamas watching crappy TV.
78. Hike.
79. Drive around with the windows (or top) down singing at the top of your lungs.
80. Have a song.  Or five.
81. Have a playlist of go to songs – they won’t fail you.
82. Get the waffle cone.
83. Vacation with your friends.
84. Travel.
85. Be a life-long learner and explore the world every chance you get.
86. Don’t be afraid to fail.  You will.  I promise.
87. Care too deeply about something.
88. Care too deeply about someone.
89. Find yourself.
90. Wash your hands.
91. Wash your sheets.
92. Clean up your messes.
93. Make big messes.
94. Read the poetry of Maya Angelou and Robert Frost and Walt Whitman.  For fun.
95. Write stories.
96. Never, ever doubt that –
97. You are kind.
98. You are smart.
99. You are important.

~all my love … Mom

 

speak.

I miss some of Caroline’s old words.  I don’t want Lulu to lose hers.

speak.

your Voice
so soft
tenderly telling the occasion of
Childhood

lellow hair
rogurt, skabetty
rudog the rednose reindeer

singing silly songs
and scheduling
picnics and play dates
tea parties and dress up dreams

your Voice
echoes in the rhythm
in the beats of

my heart

I don’t want to lose my little girl voice.
you say, sweetly

Innocence dripping from your lips
one day to be wiped away.

Redefine Your Legacy: An Open Letter to All The Teenage Girls My Daughters Come in Contact With

My little girls are watching you.  When you wear shorts so short that we can see your underwear.  Except you aren’t wearing any.  They notice.  When you eagerly flirt with the boys and desperately vie for their attention. They see that, too.  They listen as you dumb yourself down to impress those around you.  The cadence and pitch of your voice with its not so subtle likes and OMGs.  They see you leaving that other girl out and cracking a joke about her clothes or weight.  And they learn how girls are supposed to act.  To think.  To feel.

Not from me.  From you.

You think my little girls are so cute and you don’t mind hanging out with them, walking around the basketball game or having them on the sideline cheering with you at the football game but what kind of role model are you being when they are with you?  What kind of role model are you being with they are not with you?  Do you even realize?

They watch and listen to everything you do.

You teach them that their natural beauty isn’t good enough.  That their worth is measured by what they look like.  That they need make up and highlights and skimpy clothes and a specific lingo to be cool.  Right now, to them, pretty much everything is cool.  Especially you.  They long to have you around and play with you and to talk to you.  You are a big kid and one day, they will be like you, they want to be like you:  cheerleader, soccer player, drum major, class president, dancer.

As much as I’d love to take credit for who they will be I am aware that so much more  than my love is shaping who they are.  They are watching and listening to everything.  And fortunately or unfortunately for them – only time will tell – having a Mom that teaches high school means that they will be forever surrounded by older kids figuring themselves out, exacerbating my girls’ own personal discovery.  But they aren’t around you just  at Mommy’s school.  They see you at the movie theatre or in the mall.  At the grocery store or Target or at the yogurt place or pumping gas.  You are everywhere they go.

They can’t quit you.

And once, not long ago, you were their age, too.  Soaking in all the sights and sounds and smells of what it truly means to be a big girl.  You longed for the big girls to take your hand and whisk you off, away from Mommy, into the abyss of the big girl world even if it was for just a moment.  So you could get a glimmer of what life may be like.  It’s how you got to this place.  By watching and waiting.  By immolating and identifying.

I probably understand you much better than I understand my five year old.  And part of my anxiety comes from knowing the path of the next ten years. My daughters will change, swiftly and not so gently from little girl to teenager with very little time tween.  And to be perfectly honest, you make this process so difficult.

Because somewhere between self exploration and discovery you skipped over lack of self worth and it radiates in your clothes, words and attitude.  Somehow, you got the message that sassy words were better than a respectful intonation, that looking trashy was more popular than being modest, that putting others down was how you build yourself up, that respect had to be given to you before it could be earned from you.  You’ve somehow gotten the message that in order to succeed, we have to separate into the have and the have nots.  The us over the them.  You’ve come to the conclusion that being yourself is less desirable to the world than being anyone else.

I can only figure that is why you do and say and wear the things that you do.

Somehow, in the midst of this social media madness and new age feminism, the idea of being yourself and doing you has been misconstrued.

Strong, independent, and daring young women are redefining these terms to mean wild, explicit, and, well, rude.  There are very few young ladies I would choose to have my girls around as role models to look up to.

It’s not because of the booty shorts (although, those really have gotten out of control).  It’s the attitude.  The eye rolling.  The can’t be bothered.  It’s more than just traditional teenage angst.  It’s the everything else in this world is more important than what is really important.   It’s the Kardashian Conundrum.  You know – the idea that everyone can be famous for nothing.    It’s the likes and the tweets and the insta world that you exist in.  I don’t want my little girls to feel like this.  To act like this.  To look like this.

No. It’s not your job to raise my girls, that’s mine.  But it is your job to be responsible.  To listen to yourself.  To your friends.  What are you saying to each other.  What are you promoting.  It’s your responsibility to do kindness.  To set high goals.  To have high standards.  To think about what you are putting out in the world for it represents you.  When you, as a generation, lower your standards and expectations it changes the future.  That’s your legacy.

Do you want your legacy for women to be measured by the inseam of your booty shorts?

When they are with you, I want my little girls to feel protected and safe – to know that they are worthy because of their intelligence and their individuality.  I want you to wrap your arms around them and embrace them for who they are – for they love you for the same.  Protect them from being over-sexualized by not over-sexualizing yourself.  Be the women that they see – be the beauty that your mother sees.  Don’t flaunt your features.  Find your fierceness.  Redefine beauty and re-image innocence.  Rage against the media manufactured definition of what it means to be powerful.

When you abdicate your power to someone else – anyone: boy, media standards, friend – you tell my daughters it’s okay to be anything other than who they are.  And to buy into the trends, the taunts, the trauma.

It’s not okay.  For them.  Or for you.

Be young and carefree, yes.  Be wild and experience the world and soak all the marrow out of life.  Yes.  But don’t confuse living with a twitter hashtag (#YOLO).  To be young and free does not give you free reign to neglect your own sense of self or to abandon all sense of pride.

Soak all the marrow out of life refers to living intently and freely.

And realizing that one day you will be gone and someone will take your place.

Write stories of loving so much that living wasn’t possible without the other person.  Create music that feeds their souls in a way that they can’t help to dance.  Be the change that you desperately need – don’t give in to the standards that have been set.  Set your own standards.  Redefine this world.

Because the world, right now, hate girls.

Combat that by loving yourself.  And each other.

Because when you do this – you will help teach my girls that their power is best fueled with love.

How’s that for a legacy?