Snow days, trust and progress

As a teacher, I used to hate snow days.

Like, legitimately hate them. Like be so angry about them, I'd storm about all day. Seething. I would even hate that people liked them!

I had plenty of reasons to justify my anger.

"The kids needs the consistency", "I'm loosing my summer", "I had an important meeting today!"

All valid, all true, and all feeding into that sense of injustice.

But the truth under all that anger was my lack of control. I felt best in life when I have a tight grip on what's happening around me. When I'm at the wheel and we're on cruise control. Order, control, routine. That's how I like it.

Today, we had a snow day. Unexpected, as our 1" of predicted snow turned into 5"+.

 I was awake, my morning routine had begun, lunches were made, clothes were set out. I was prepped for the meetings I had today. But instead, its a snow day.

And I realized- I wasn't angry.

I sighed (heavily, I'll admit) and went back to bed. There was no anger, no sense of injustice, no fuming or seething.

Just acceptance.

It may be because our last day is still June 15th, early summer by all accounts.

But I'd like to think it's because of the progress I've made in accepting life and reality as it comes. In being less rigid and more flexible. I'd like to think I've learn to trust, to be and to know it will all be OK.

My need to control in life has lead me down some dark paths; eating disorders, obsessive routines, stress, anxiety, anger, endless striving for perfection and people pleasing.

I used to think that my perfectionism and need to control would lead to me being a better mother, a better wife, a better SLP. If I had everything 'just so' then things would certainly turn out in my favor. Everyone would be happy under my control.

But now I see it only lead me to feel angry and upset, to snap and break when things didn't go my way. I'd even bet my husband would say I'm more pleasant to be around now that I'm a less Type- A. But don't fact check that because #creativelicense.

I can say for certain that my house (and head) is a happier place to live.

 Learning to let go a little has been an incredible relief and allowed me to feel more joy than I ever thought possible when I was white knuckling my way through my days.

Is a snow day a big problem? Nope, not at all. But if we learn to be flexible in the little things, it helps when the big things come along.

Sometimes, it takes a snow day, an unscheduled, unplanned break from life, to see how far you've come.

So today, I'll pat myself on the back for releasing some of that Type A/perfection/control, let my kids watch too much TV, and know that the lunches and the clothes are all ready to go for tomorrow.

Cheers to the journey, to loosening that grip, and to learning to adjust those sails...

“You’re stealing my learning”

Tonight in our after dinner-before before bed-school night shenanigans, my 5 year old was building an alphabet puzzle. She was struggling with the middle of the alphabet so I proceeded to do what I do- I “cued” or prompted her. I began singing the alphabet song with her. And this was her response

I posted it on Instagram because it struck me so. But quickly realized this quote from my 5 year old was taking me to a deeper place requiring more reflection and so I must blog.

So what if I haven't written a blog post in 6 months?!


"You're stealing my learning".

Perhaps it's because it was said in response to such a natural habit of mine. A learned skill even, the cueing, the prompting. It's what I do ALL day with my kiddos at work. Perhaps it was the tone in which the message was delivered. Like she was really PISSED that I wasn't letting her figure this out on her own. Perhaps it's an abundance of worry about new reading "programs" and abysmal MCAS scores.

I'm not quite sure why but this quote struck a nerve. So much so that I had to write about it. Because if I write about it then I can think about it and I can learn from it. It's just how my processing works...

"You're stealing my learning".

My goodness, how many times in a day do I "steal" a child's learning. How many times a day do I accommodate and modify to a point that I am actually depriving that child of the opportunity to grapple, to grow, to learn. How many times do I personally invite a child to follow directions when, in fact, they might learn to do it more independently and faster if I let them fail once in a while.

Working in Special Education is like walking a fine line. Meeting the child where they are while trying desperately to get them to where they "need to be" is a never ending battle.

But what I realized tonight, thanks to my daughter, is that every struggle is an opportunity to learn. Or at least, an invitation to try.

How many times have I fed a child a word they were decoding because we just had to get to answering the questions?  How many times have I taken the pencil and wrote a child's answer because the rest of the class was already finished and my 30 minutes were almost up?

This isn't to say I need to let go and watch my darlings drown in the turbulent waters of grade level curriculum expectations. This isn't to say I don't continue to provide them the accommodations they need to succeed.

But maybe, just maybe, I let their learning be their own instead of a reflection of my support. Maybe I let them grapple, let them miss the direction and watch how they struggle through that and figure out a way to do it differently next time. Maybe I let them....learn.

It's possible I'm being dramatic about the words of a frustrated 5 year old. The thing is, I know myself well enough to know that when you hear what sounds like such a profound message- then, girlfriend, that means you need to listen...