kindergarten wishes

A letter to my Grace on the night before kindergarten:

Tomorrow is an important day.  Tomorrow you begin down the path of a student, a role you will inhabit for many, many years to come.  Here are my prayers for you:

That you will always love meeting new people.
That you have many friends.
That you are a good friend to many.
That you will always love to learn.
That, to paraphrase the poet Carl Dennis, you suspect the world you know isn't the only world.
That you ask lots of questions, and know that when you feel you don't know quite enough, that's a pretty good sign that you are learning.
That you are cautious of people who seem to have all of the answers.  They don't.
That you are quiet sometimes, and just listen.
That you pay attention to what's happening around you.
That you write a lot.
That you keep telling stories.
That you always try to express yourself through art.
That you are willing to say yes to new experiences.
That you know how to say no.
That you are thankful.
That you have a little voice inside your head that sounds like Mommy sometimes.
That you know being tough means feeling fear but staying strong.
That you know having empathy means reaching out but not jumping in.
That you love God.
That He always protects you.
And that you will always, no matter what, forever and ever be as amazing as you are right now.

I love you more than most.  I am proud.  I am thankful.  I am so excited for your journey.

Girls on Deck

At lunch, Grace and Zara and I sat chatting.  I joked with Grace about whether she'd like a cup of coffee.  She said, "Oh, yes!"  We laughed.  I then said, "When you're older.  And when you're big, the three of us are going to sit out on the deck, drink wine, and you'll tell me about all of your problems."  Zara then chimed in, "And blow bubbles!"

It's a date, my girlies.  I am so looking forward to it ... and everything in between.

authors and pee-pee

Last night before bed Grace squeezed her eyes shut and said, "Mom, I have to tell you something."  I braced myself for something earth-shattering.  She said, "I've decided that I don't want to be a doctor anymore.  I want to be an author and illustrator instead."  I've been trying to subtly brain-wash her on the doctor thing, but apparently to no avail.  Obviously, she's keen to my tactics since she seemed to know I might take it badly.  Personally, I think Grace will be a brilliant author and illustrator!  (But, I'll continue to push med school as a plan B!).

Zara went pee-pee in the potty for the first time this morning.  She said, "Poop."  I asked, "Do you want to sit on the potty?"  She marched right over and sat down, and after a few minutes, she did it.  She received big cheers from her mommy ... and a Tootsie Pop.  Later, she said, "Want sucker."  I told her she needed to go on the potty first.  She tried, but no luck that time!

These girls make me so incredibly proud.  Tired, but proud.  So thankful...

learning grace

Today I found out that I may not have a job as of May 2014 as a result of budget cuts.  It made me realize how much I really like the work I do and I how much I enjoy working at this institution, with these colleagues and these students.  I feel a little sad about the prospect of losing my job ... but I also feel really thankful, at this point, for these past four years. 

More importantly, I'm so thankful for this feeling I have that--no matter what--it's going to be okay.  I have a good team in Jeff and the girls and a lot of faith that if this door closes, it's going to open to something just as rewarding.  I just don't know what that might be...

why i like Lent

...because it asks us as Catholics to do something in a real and physical way.  I mean, I suppose practicing any faith requires that you do stuff (for example: tithe, give thanks, love one another, etc.) but I am finding that the challenge of fasting, of sacrificing a vice and even the act of wearing ashes on my forehead on Ash Wednesday helps me to feel like I'm taking a more active role on my journey toward closeness with Jesus.  I kind of like the responsibility of having to do stuff for God.

I am thankful for the rituals that seem cRaZy!!! that have become deeply symbolic for me and help me to feel part of a community that is holy and sacred. 

the real scary stuff

I write this two days after having found out that a high school friend passed away suddenly from a "terrible virus," leaving behind a husband and two small, beautiful children.  To put it simply, the whole thing has me incredibly freaked out ... terrified, really.

Each night of late, before we settle in to read bedtime stories, Grace needs to make sure there are "no scary parts" in the books she has chosen.  If the book is a Tangled chapter book on loan from the library, she wants to be sure that Mother Gothel is not in the chapter we'll be reading.  Tonight, she considered whether the bee that flies into the rabbit's mouth in The Whispering Rabbit was scary enough to warrant a decision not to read it.

It occurred to me tonight how different the things that scare me are from the things that scare my kids. I am in awe of and incredibly thankful for the fact that Grace's biggest fears are of things that don't actually exist, like Disney villians or a grumpy neighbor in Ivy & Bean. 

I so wish I could protect them from ever having to fear anything greater.  Like real life.

Heart Without Walls

I awoke this morning to a status update from one of my Facebook friends asking for prayers for a little baby boy, Judah, who was just born with a heart defect and will be undergoing a long, difficult surgery today. Apparently, his heart has no walls.

Along with his post was a picture of the boy with his family. I looked at the mom, clearly broken but still smiling, and thought of our own bumpy beginning with Zara. To be clear, Zara had a fever, not a heart defect. Three days at Strong and she was good to go. But man, I think the pain any mom feels seeing her baby all wired and poked is both equal and boundless. When I looked at her during that period, she was so quiet and peaceful, so fragile and helpless, yet so resilient and strong. I knew that this was going to be a kid to be proud of. To see her climbing (and falling) running (and bumping), talking (and screeching), there isn't even a trace of that sick little baby. Instead, she always comes with pure joy in tow ... and a touch of wreckless abandon. And I was right. This is a kid to be proud of.

Giving thanks for my healthy kids and prayers for baby Judah and his family. Once that defect is repaired, his heart-without-walls is going to be a really beautiful thing.

friends & biscotti

Yesterday I came home to a Ziplock bag on the counter filled with homemade biscotti, several Tazo Chai teabags, and a note from my friend, Melissa. To make it even better, when I had my biscotti with my coffee this morning, I discovered the entire underside was chocolate. Today I am thankful for a good friend & good biscotti...it doesn't get much better.

oh canada!

As I write this, I am in Vancouver for a conference. I am at the Westin hotel looking at this from my wall of windows:

Yesterday I rode up Grouse Mountain in a Gondola and had dinner at the top looking out to mountains, ocean, and city skyline. It was breathtaking....one of those moments where you really learn your place in the world and realize just what a teeny tiny speck you are. As I looked at the pristine landscape, I just kept thinking over and over, 'Here is proof that God exists in the world.'

It's such a relief to feel small sometimes and to realize the inevitability of your own limitations. It's like, I don't have control over the world or even my world, I'm not that powerful; of course I'm going to be imperfect, insecure, and fail sometimes. It takes a weight off my shoulders to understand that with clarity. Being here for a research conference, you meet a lot of people with very inflated senses of themselves because their name is in print a lot of times. The beauty of my surroundings along with the companionship of colleagues and friends has really trivialized that for me. This beauty--that's what matters. Our great conversations, sharing of stories, laughter, Skyping with Jeff, Grace and Zara; setting goals, making plans, promising myself to be more fun, to be happier, to live more simply and to be more thankful--this is what matters.

I'm really thankful for this experience...a chance to get away and chill out, to connect with people, and learn a little more about what makes a good life.

right in my backyard

As I was driving today from the dry cleaners in Avon to meet my friend, Karla, for lunch in Geneseo, I came upon the 5 Arch Bridge on Route 39. I've driven past a few times before, but this time I saw the river sparkling in the sunlight and was compelled to check it out. I think this will be a great place to bring the kids this summer--especially Grace--for a picnic and some frolicking in the river. It's funny to me that I used to assume that there was nothing to do "out in the sticks" and that it would be boring to live "out in the middle of nowhere." But there's a lot of beauty out here. Some of it is right under my nose and easily overlooked as I hurry from here to there. I'm thankful that I slowed down today to take it in, and I can't wait to share it with my peeps.

I may not have been very good at fasting this Good Friday, but what I ate in chicken I made up for in thankfulness to God for this serene landscape and the beautiful area that I call home.

another story by grace

The other day Grace wanted to tell me a story. I was just telling my students about it, and I realize that it's a great one to capture here. It went something like this:

"Once upon a time there was a king. And the king said very naughty things to the boy. He said, 'stupid,' then he said, 'ugly,' and theeeen he said, 'dammit.'

At that point I said, "Grace! You shouldn't say those words. Let's think of some other words we can think of to say instead of 'dammit.' There's 'darn it,' there's--

Grace cut me off. "But Mommy," she said, "You told me I can say those words if I'm telling you what someone else said!"

She got me :)

I am so thankful that, in her innocence, she has such a profound ability to make me laugh.

happy 16th birthday to natalie

Sixteen years ago today, I became an aunt to the sweetest, smartest, cutest child--Natalie Evelina.

At that point in my life, I loved this little girl as much as I could love any child. It was Natalie who actually gave me my first taste of what it would be like to be a mom. When I was only sixteen years old myself, I would babysit her on Tuesday nights when Kim and Italo would play in their dart league. She was just a tiny little baby and I would just sit and hold her, not quite sure of what else you were supposed to do with a tiny little baby. And when she cried--boy did she cry--I had absolutely no idea what to do with her. One night I even had to call in backup (my dad!). I realize now that the poor child was probably just hungry--whoops! Live and learn :)

I am amazed at how fast time flies and at the fact that she's sixteen years old already, but I am even more amazed by the young woman that she has become. She is smart, sharp-witted, multi-talented, and oh so very beautiful. In so many ways, she is just a bigger and better version of little girl that she once was. Natalie, here's hoping that you never completely change but continue to become a better version of yourself in the years to come.

Happy birthday, Natty. Today--and all days--I am so thankful that you were born.

snuggle bugs

This morning when Zara woke up, I changed her diaper and then brought her back into our bedroom for some Mommy-Daddy snuggle time (because my eyes simply were not yet ready to be open!). A few minutes later, Grace strolled in--barefoot in zebra striped pajamas, her hair a wild, curly mess, a grin on her face when she saw the three of us in our bed. Usually these days when I try to get Grace to snuggle for a bit in the morning, she won't have it. She's always ready to be doing anything but resting. She always has a plan for her day...one that typically includes storytelling, coloring, drawing, and general mess-making, and one that is usually different from whatever it is that I have in mind. Anyway, I think it was seeing Zara with a prominent place in snuggle-town that let Grace be broken down and coerced into bed. At one point she and Zara had their foreheads pressed together, both laughing (I wasn't quick enough for the photo, unfortunately). Too cute.

So this is how Jeff and I spent the first 10 minutes of our day today: in bed with our girls, giggling & being silly, and talking about what the day would bring. What it brought for me was a chaotic, confusing, and highly politicized day at work where very little work actually got done. And in the midst of it, I remembered our earliest moments today and I remembered what's really important.

I am thankful today for the brief moments of connection & peace--our morning snuggle-time--that help keep life's most mundane and frustrating moments in perspective.

giving and getting thanks

It's so important to be thankful. I was reminded of this today when one of my students came to my office to get some feedback on a paper he is writing. As he was leaving, he let me know how thankful he is for having taken my class and how it has shaped his understandings about teaching. He also told me that he is acquainted with a couple of students I had several years ago in this same course and that I came highly recommended. There are a lot of times in my job where I feel inadequate. There are other times where I feel validated and excited about the work I am doing. Hearing a simple "thank you" from my students is just what I need to hear in order to flip that switch.

I am so thankful for students who invigorate my passion for teaching and for the subject that I teach, and who energize me with their thanks.

retroactive thanks

I haven't introduced the blogosphere to Zara yet, the newest addition to our family. Born on 9/27/11, Z is the happiest, chubbiest little baby I've ever seen. Grace, even in a foul mood, can make Z smile, and when she does, the foul mood breaks and Grace grins back and calls her "Smiley Cakes." Her laugh is hearty, as is her appetite. I get so much joy out of watching these two sisters together. I only pray that they always love each other so much, that they always make each other laugh, and that they always have each other's backs.

I am so over-the-moon thankful for our little Zara. I never thought our family was missing anything without her, but now that we have her, I can't imagine life any other way.

making a comeback

I need to get better about blogging more regularly, and I realize this in the moments with Grace and Zara that a snapshot never seems to do justice. In fact, some days, the only thing that would do justice to the simultaneous chaos & wonder would be if I could freeze time and somehow package our most precious moments to be re-opened at a later date when our blessings seem less prolific. But, until Apple comes up with an app for that, a blog will have to do. And I will have to re-dedicate myself to the cause.

I started out a little too ambitious and a little too literary. In the business of my life as a full-time mom and a full-time professor, the words come less easily and spare moments are spent attempting some feat of cleaning (or at least neatening) or, you know, showering. Most times, I feel like trying to cobble words together to form coherent sentences is a challenge, let alone words in sentences that I would feel confident enough about to make public on this blog.

One thing I've learned in the past 3 and a half years since I became a mom is that women today can have it all. I am proof of that. But that also means we have to do it all, and to do it all, we just have to make it simple. So today begins my renewed attempt at blogging, replete with a renewed focus on the things in my life that I am thankful for. I make no promises that my stories will evoke tears or that I will even come close to conveying the hilarity, insanity, wisdom, beauty, or frustration that I experience in my day-to-day life with my family, but I will do my best to detail something each day to give thanks for. And in this way, I hope to become a more thankful person...one that is more aware and conscious of the beauty that surrounds me. Wish me luck...

Grace's Story about her Picture

What Pepper, What Pepper
By Grace Concetta Hopkins
Once upon a time a hot air balloon floated by and what happened? An ice cream cone splashed on there! And then the ice cream cone went on a slide and got the ice skates all dirty. And then the ice skate said, “Did you get my bee dirty too?” And the ice cream said no. And the monster accidentally spilled all the food, even the bubble gum, in the car. And Fellow came to protect. And a boy flying with pixie dust and he was sad but now he’s happy because he got his ball back. And Ariel swam by close by to watch. Got everything dirty, the ice cream cone did. They threw their things in the garbage that were garbage and broken that the dad couldn’t fix. Then they got everything out of the trash can and their dad got the wrench and fixed it and after the car ride home the food was out the window and everything was dirty, even the Frisbees. And then they lived happily ever after. That’s it.

3-2-1 ... "See Ya!"

This summer we took a short trip to Sesame Place in Pennsylvania. We happened upon a ride called "Blast Off" that raises you into the air only to drop you over and over again. I was thankful that my pregnancy prohibited me from riding. I don't like heights and I especially don't like falling from them. Jeff decided he and Grace would ride and, I admit, I thought it was a terrible idea. In my mind, there was no way my little girl would not be in hysterics the first time the ride dropped her and she got the feeling of falling. Much to my surprise, I was wrong. She exited the ride laughing hysterically and asked to ride it again the next day. It was a moment where I had to hit refresh on what I thought I knew about my kid. It was the first time that I really felt her gaining independence from me and I found that both relieving and really disturbing!


We had another "Blast off" moment today, this one a bit more momentous. As I type this, Grace is at pre-school...her first day. We've spent months preparing, reassuring Grace that it would be fun, that she'd make new friends, learn a lot, have great snacks and that, after 2 and a half hours, Mommy would be back to pick her up. Our morning played out as planned -- wake up, get dressed, do hair, have breakfast, brush teeth, take some pictures and out the door. The part that had my stomach doing flips was the goodbye once we got to school. Unbeknownst to Grace, I cried quietly in the front seat the whole way there. I composed myself before we went in, said hello to her teachers, hung up her backpack...and Grace was off playing in the "kitchen" (not suprising to anyone who knows Grace!). As parents started to trickle out, I knew it was time to make my move. My stomach was in a knot and I was holding back tears, but I somehow eeked out, "Grace, Mommy's going to go now." I braced myself for the response. Would she cry? Would she cling to me and beg me not to go? Would she make it impossible for me to leave? Or would she do exactly what she did: not even look up from shopping cart she was now pushing around and say, so simply, "See ya." I simultaneously let out a breath of relief ... and yet I felt as though I was punched in the stomach.

When I was eighteen years old and left my parents' house for my first day of college, my mom stood in front of the door in the kitchen and refused to let me out despite my pleas to her not to make me late for my first class, World Civilizations. As she held her arms pasted across the door shouting, "You can't leave! I won't let you go!" I was annoyed and amused, but I definitely felt ready to physically remove my mother from my path so that I could get on with my education ... and my life. My mom, she wasn't ready. I didn't get that at the time, but I sure do get it now.

I always understood my relationship to Grace in this way: I am her mother. This means that my primary jobs are to protect her, provide for her, and teach her things she needs to know so that she can become an independent, responsible, and caring individual. I guess I didn't realize that there would be so much for me to learn about her, about my own mother, and about myself. As she has helped me to define my role as "Mommy," I realize I've come to rely on her to need me so that I can fulfill that role. In the moment today where she said "see ya," she didn't need me, and in that moment, I felt a little lost. So today I also hit refresh on what it means to be a mom and, as difficult as it is, I see that being a mom sometimes means letting go.

grace makes snow on march 23rd so worth it!

Grace: Mom, come here I have to tell you something! Winter came back!

Me: Where did Spring go?

Grace: Winter fell on top of it.

Poetic, don't you think!?

Scrolling

Entering the 2nd trimester with "Thing 2" (a moniker used with the utmost affection), I don't sleep much these days. I wake up at 3:00 am and toss and turn until morning, trying unsucceedingly to light upon a thought that will give me some peace and lull me back to sleep. This morning, a memory occurred to me...sort of out of the blue. Don't brace yourself--it's not earth-shattering.

I was maybe 7 years old. It was a time in my life where I spent a lot of time with Nonnie. At any opportunity I had, I'd spend both weekend nights at her hourse. Anyway, it was a snapshot memory. I was watering her grass in the back yard. The sun was just going down, but it was still warm (Nonnie never watered her grass during the day; the water would just "burn off" in the sun). I meticulously covered ever square inch with the fine spray from the hose, glad to be doing it "all by myself." Angelo and Lillian were out in their yard, picking grapes or some such thing. Nonnie and the neighbors chat over the space that was their shared driveway.

I told you--nothing dramatic. But I had this thought that it was a lifetime ago. Another world that I was in at 7 years old, so remote and so different from the one I live in now. Where Alice, the upstairs tenant of Angelo and Lillian, could be single at 32 years old, have hair trailing down her back to her butt, walk to her job at the Super Duper every day...and be seen simply as a "nice lady" with no baggage, no story. Just a “nice lady.”

The thing that got me as I lay in bed this morning is that it wasn’t another world or a lifetime ago. It was a day. One day that was connected to today by all the other days in between. I hate to get too esoteric here, but it gave me a new way of thinking about my life, if even for a moment. It made me wonder when it happens that we stop seeing our days connected to all the other days? When do stories become separated by gulfs, with all that’s in between falling into hopeless irrelevancy? And what does that necessitate that we overlook?

Thoughts at 3:00 am rarely make a lot of sense…though they seem so wise at the time! I’m going to chew on this for a while…