Time doesn’t stop

I realized that I haven’t written in a year.  I’ve neglected something I truly love for more important things, busyness.  I can’t let that happen again.  I have too much to say, too much in my brain, too much I need to share.  Time hasn’t stood still, even if sometimes I wish it would.  Things change, some for the good, even if we don’t see it at the time.  Some of those changes are unexpected and brilliant.  Here’s where we are now.

I am teaching full-time again, something I swore I would never do in a million years.  Some days I love it.  Other days, my heart breaks and I’m not sure I’ll find the strength to continue with it.  Too much brokenness, apathy, ugliness, and entitlement.  Then, I get the blunt honesty from a child I lose sleep over.  His grades are questionable, his attendance spotty, but his honesty is refreshing.  He tells me the truth, even if that truth gets him into trouble.  I want to hug this kid around the throat and refuse to give up on him.  Some days I can’t get any curriculum taught because we have to start with simple life skills.  It’s scary.

The boy is living his dream.  He gets to talk sports every day with people who understand his passion and dreams.  He sits and talks with future lottery picks for the NBA draft during his job of reffing basketball. He has found a stunning young woman who appreciates his “confidence” and his humor.  She compels him to work harder than he wants to occasionally, and he provides her with an added boost of confidence.  He’s nearly done with his classroom work and will be graduating before I am probably ready.  We discuss where he’ll be, what he’ll do, how he plans to make it all work.  My boy surprises me every day.

The girl, my prickly diva, has really bloomed this year.  She’s made a ton of tough decisions and more than a few made for her.  I’ve watched her go from a broken and fragile girl who was destroyed, or nearly so, to a girl who knows what she wants.  She’s stepped, or rather flown, out of her comfort zone in the past several months, and she’s succeeded more than we thought she would.  She’s becoming a leader in ways I didn’t see coming.  She’s still got the oddest group of friends, but those have changed.  She laughs more now than she did.  She’s visited a college, wants a pig, and is starting to think about all the things she plans to do.  I’m so proud of who she is becoming, even if she doesn’t want me to say that.

My role as mother is constantly changing.  I’m not always sure I’m very good at it.  I do know that my kids seem to like me most of the time.  They aren’t in trouble or at least I don’t think so.  They are making good decisions, and I am pleased.  My girl and I have a relationship that borders on very weird, but I’ll take it.  As much as I love my mama, we didn’t have this until I was much older.  I know I embarrass them and make them uncomfortable, but I’m ok with that.  I can do that.  I’m the mama.


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