Mommies Are…

I test drove motherhood this week.

I was one of 18 chaperones on a three-day trip to Savannah with over 200 8th graders.

I love these trips, but they are such a shock to my system as I go from no kids to being completely responsible for a group of 16 and sharing responsibility for the others.

My days started with me trying to grab sips of coffee while I made the rounds, making sure students were awake and appropriately dressed, administering medication and giving sage advice to address the issues that arise overnight when you stick four teenage girls in a room together.

Breakfast, usually my peaceful time in front of the computer, was taken standing up in the lobby of the hotel so that I could direct the girls and strive to keep their voices at a semi-reasonable level. I think I managed two bites of hot oatmeal before it congealed.

Through the day, I lugged a large backpack filled with their medications and the day’s schedule. I was nurse, tour guide and counselor in one. I made sure that sunscreen and bug spray were applied. And then reapplied. I cautioned them about the effects of the overconsumption of sugar and the need to bring a jacket. I even found myself repeating the dreaded mom words, “Just try,” at the limited bathroom opportunities.

I swear the girls knew the moment I stepped into the shower at the end of the long days as the phone would start to ring as soon as I applied the shampoo to my hair – the hotel equivalent of calling “Mom” across the house.

By the time all of the girls were settled in their rooms, I would collapse, exhausted.

Yet unable to sleep.

The details of the days are tiring, but it is nothing compared to the weight of responsibility that motherhood, even of the three-day variety, holds. I saw potential dangers lurking around previously harmless corners. Every stranger was a threat, every body of water a potential drowning and every curb provided an opportunity to fall. At night, I found that I could not enter deep sleep, as I was constantly listening for the kids.

 

 

When I was a kid, the pastor at my church would call all of the children up to the steps in front of the pulpit for a brief children’s message embedded within the larger sermon. One year when I was about four, the pastor celebrated Mother’s Day by beginning with the prompt, “Mommies are” and then holding out the microphone for the kids to complete the sentence.

The first few shares were your standard:

“Mommies are nice.”

“Mommies are pretty.”

“Mommies are gentle.”

And then the microphone was put in front of me. My contribution on that Mother’s Day?

“Mommies are tired.”

 

Yes, they are. Motherhood is a job with the biggest responsibilities possible and no time off. Motherhood is a job that, just when you think you have it figured out, your kid enters a new phase; you’re in perpetual training. Motherhood is a job that requires that your own needs are neglected so that your offspring’s needs are met.

It is tiring.

But is also rewarding beyond belief, as reflected in the faces of the moms as they reunited with their kids at the end of the trip. I’m sure they enjoyed their three days of peace and quiet but they were thrilled to see their kids (even stinky, cranky, hopped-up-on-sugar kids:) )again.

As for me, I enjoyed the test drive but this particular model is not for me. I’ll stick with teaching!

Happy Mother’s Day to all you tired mommies. I am in awe of what you do every day.

Mommies Are Tired

I test drove motherhood this week.

I was one of 18 chaperones on a three-day trip to Savannah with over 200 8th graders.

I love these trips, but they are such a shock to my system as I go from no kids to being completely responsible for a group of 16 and sharing responsibility for the others.

My days started with me trying to grab sips of coffee while I made the rounds, making sure students were awake and appropriately dressed, administering medication and giving sage advice to address the issues that arise overnight when you stick four teenage girls in a room together.

Breakfast, usually my peaceful time in front of the computer, was taken standing up in the lobby of the hotel so that I could direct the girls and strive to keep their voices at a semi-reasonable level. I think I managed two bites of hot oatmeal before it congealed.

Through the day, I lugged a large backpack filled with their medications and the day’s schedule. I was nurse, tour guide and counselor in one. I made sure that sunscreen and bug spray were applied. And then reapplied. I cautioned them about the effects of the overconsumption of sugar and the need to bring a jacket. I even found myself repeating the dreaded mom words, “Just try,” at the limited bathroom opportunities.

I swear the girls knew the moment I stepped into the shower at the end of the long days as the phone would start to ring as soon as I applied the shampoo to my hair – the hotel equivalent of calling “Mom” across the house.

By the time all of the girls were settled in their rooms, I would collapse, exhausted.

Yet unable to sleep.

The details of the days are tiring, but it is nothing compared to the weight of responsibility that motherhood, even of the three-day variety, holds. I saw potential dangers lurking around previously harmless corners. Every stranger was a threat, every body of water a potential drowning and every curb provided an opportunity to fall. At night, I found that I could not enter deep sleep, as I was constantly listening for the kids.

 

 

When I was a kid, the pastor at my church would call all of the children up to the steps in front of the pulpit for a brief children’s message embedded within the larger sermon. One year when I was about four, the pastor celebrated Mother’s Day by beginning with the prompt, “Mommies are” and then holding out the microphone for the kids to complete the sentence.

The first few shares were your standard:

“Mommies are nice.”

“Mommies are pretty.”

“Mommies are gentle.”

And then the microphone was put in front of me. My contribution on that Mother’s Day?

“Mommies are tired.”

 

Yes, they are. Motherhood is a job with the biggest responsibilities possible and no time off. Motherhood is a job that, just when you think you have it figured out, your kid enters a new phase; you’re in perpetual training. Motherhood is a job that requires that your own needs are neglected so that your offspring’s needs are met.

It is tiring.

But is also rewarding beyond belief, as reflected in the faces of the moms as they reunited with their kids at the end of the trip. I’m sure they enjoyed their three days of peace and quiet but they were thrilled to see their kids (even stinky, cranky, hopped-up-on-sugar kids:) )again.

As for me, I enjoyed the test drive but this particular model is not for me. I’ll stick with teaching!

Happy Mother’s Day to all you tired mommies. I am in awe of what you do every day.

 

 

 

 

Sleeping With the Anemone

 

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I love teaching on a big-picture basis. I like nothing more than seeing the lightbulbs as students master a new concept. I love the challenge of devising new ways to present complicated information. I thrive on the messages from former students that they now understand and enjoy math. I enjoy “adopting” 120 new personalities every year and watching them grow and change throughout the year. Once they have been in my classroom, they will always be one of “my kids,” even after they have kids of their own (yes, I have been teaching that long!).

I love teaching on a big-picture basis, but I can have a tendency to get bogged down in the details of low pay, never-ending meetings and ever-changing legislation. This is never more true than in the spring, as we gear up for the standardized testing season. My eyes and brain blur as I analyze data and compile reports. My energy wans just as the students become ever more excited for spring break and the elusive call of summer vacation. By March, students and teachers can grow cranky with each other, much like a family at the end of a long road trip. Are we there yet?

Sometimes I can forget the big picture.

And, sometimes, a magical moment brings it all into focus again. This weekend was filled with those moments.

I chaperoned an overnight field trip with 200 7th graders to the Georgia Aquarium, billed as the world’s largest.

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The luggage of 200 teenagers!

We arrived at the aquarium Friday afternoon, just as the last of the general public was making their way to the exits. The aquarium atrium, which I had never seen without shoulder to shoulder crowds, stood empty and quiet.

Kinda feel like Night at the Museum! Luckily, all the life was safely behind glass:)
Kinda feel like Night at the Museum! Luckily, all the life was safely behind glass:)

As we were led by our guides on a behind the scenes tour, I watched the students’ faces. Seeing their excitement and curiosity was infectious.

The "wave maker" from the top of one of the tanks
The “wave maker” from the top of one of the tanks
The world's largest tank from above. You can see one of the whale sharks at the front of the picture.
The world’s largest tank from above. You can see one of the whale sharks at the front of the picture.
I love jellyfish, but only from a safe distance!
I love jellyfish, but only from a safe distance!

By 11:00 (waaay past my bedtime1), the girls and female chaperones made our way to the large tank viewing area to bed down for the night.

This was the view from my sleeping bag.
This was the view from my sleeping bag.

I found myself sleeping much like I imagine new parents do – listening for trouble and staying constantly on alert. Every time I do an overnight trip with students, I have much more respect for the huge responsibility carried by parents.

This trip, with its learning and exploration unencumbered by paperwork and testing, reminded me of the big picture. I teach because I love the enthusiasm and inquisitiveness that fuels learning. I teach because I want every child to reach their potential. I teach because I don’t want a lack of knowledge to ever hold someone back from their dreams. I teach to share my passions with the hope that my students will pass it on.

And sleeping with the fishes is pretty cool too:)

I'm used to sleeping with a pit bull, so a whale shark isn't too strange!
I’m used to sleeping with a pit bull, so a whale shark isn’t too strange!