Day 24.2

     Women's March 2018.

Since I couldn't march, I ran.

     Instead of taking to the streets and demonstrating, I was taking my kids to swimming lessons. Then I took them to get bagels. Then I put the littlest one down for a nap and washed the kitchen floor by hand. I helped the older two build tunnels out of chairs. I read the news and scanned the pictures that friends shared on Instagram, Facebook and twitter. Next, I took the kids outside and let them play in the mud. I made dinner (half of which was eaten, the other half thrown on the newly cleaned floor) and brownies from scratch. I ran a few loads of laundry, but haven't folded them yet. Finally I took the kids upstairs to bed and fought with them for an hour until they remained in their beds.

     It seems odd that one year ago I marched with my daughter, vowing to fight for her future. Twelve months have passed and so much has changed- I returned to full-time work out of the home, began working toward a second career, came out about my personal experience with sexual assault, engaged in so many wonderful, deep, and challenging conversations, and I feel so much more connected to the world around me. I also feel a greater sense of responsibility to be out there and active in the difficult work taking place. Yet, here I sit at home, drinking a beer to congratulate myself on not hitting my kids when they really pissed me off and pushed me to the limit tonight.

     The movement is here is to stay, and I know that there will be days when I can be a more active and present participant. In the meantime, today I talked to my boys about consent and making sure you always ask before you touch a friend and that if someone tells you to stop, honor their request. I also squeezed in a quick run while the boys had their swim lessons, because this movement for equality is going to take a lot of work and I need to build up my strength and endurance.

Day 23.2

     Happy 2018. May this year bring us stability, strength, control and balance...

     I for one, have already achieved Control Balance.

Notice the control and balance I maintain, while son #2 melts down behind me

     This is a Super Advanced Pilates exercise called Control Balance. It's horrendously difficult and one of my biggest achievements in 2017. In 2016, I couldn't imagine having the core strength to get into a "rollover position", let alone the flexibility, control, and balance to perform the full exercise. I shocked myself when I was able to do this on my first attempt.

     I laughed when I read the name of the exercise during my Mat 2 training, because the movements seemed unattainable and the name was ironic. There are two things escaping me right now- Control of my life/home and balance of work/family/friendships/all other things. In this exercise there are so many opportunities to lose it- the rollover, the leg positioning, the engagement of the core, the stability required by the back and shoulders-combined with the strength of the hip extensors and flexibility of the hip flexors. Plus, having to roll down to a supine position after switching the legs numerous times. Also- you have to breath!

     I was so determined to prove my instincts wrong and do this exercise well. I was pretty scared, partially convinced that I would hurt myself. I inhaled deeply, engaged my body to prepare and went for it.

I think this is how I'm going to approach 2018.

     2017 was a pretty mixed year. I marched for women's rights with my daughter. I called senators and members of congress. I shared extremely personal struggles in my writing. I took on a new personal challenge by studying to become a clinical Pilates instructor. I returned to work as a music teacher after two years of maternity/childcare leave. But there have been challenges. The end of the year saw a deepening of my depression and anxiety. The world has become a more frightening place in the last 12 months- or truthfully, maybe I was just awoken to the state of affairs as they have always been. I've been insecure as a mother and as a partner, feeling an increased sense of guilt as I've tried to adjust to working outside of the home. I'm overwhelmed with it all.

     Honestly, I don't know that I will ever find complete control and balance in my life. But I'm just going to inhale deeply, engage to prepare, and go for it.

Day 22.2

     Every once in a while, we need to give ourselves a shout out.

The relief of a clean bill of health

     Today, I did something for me. Now, I am not going to get into the details, but I had an issue that I could have easily put to the side and not taken care of because it was just easier to focus on the needs of others-especially during this time of year. Instead, I put away my pride and made my health first priority.
     This afternoon, I sat on the couch in our new family room and enjoyed the remaining sunlight before attempting to tackle the laundry (5 loads and no end in sight as of this posting). I could have gotten frustrated with myself, or annoyed at the circumstances surrounding the day, but I'm choosing to embrace the fact that for the first time in a long time, I put myself ahead of others' expectations of me. I can't remember the last time I felt like I had even the slightest bit of control- apparently taking care of myself can help with that!

     I think this is one of my most empowering moments of 2017.

Day 21.2

     Try as I might, depression shows it's ugly head. I blame the holidays... sick kids... never ending home construction...the fact that a 21 month old is sleeping in a crib, two feet from my head...work stress...lack of exercise...this stupid, stupid world we live in...

I wonder what I would do if I was faced with an active shooter situation.

   

     Why aren't more people in America OUTRAGED that I as a teacher have to think about this EVERY FUCKING DAY?!?!?!?!?!?!?! That I practice how I will get the door locked in the quickest way possible? That I set up my classroom so we can easily escape if needed-or easily hide? That I've mentally prepared myself to do anything necessary to protect the students that I've been entrusted with?

     I wonder how a gun lobbyist would feel after experiencing a lockdown with 25 panicked 7 year olds. What words would they use to soothe a frightened child? I've held hands with sobbing students during surprise precautionary drills. This is the screwed up norm that we face in America because for some reason our elected officials can't address this crisis.

     5 YEARS.

     Nothing I type out seems to articulate what I am trying to say. I just want to scream. I want to punch something. I am so angry.

     Nothing has changed.

     Yet everything has changed. 5 years ago, I had one child. Now that child has gone through his first grade year. THOSE KIDS NEVER DID.

WHY HAVEN'T WE ADDRESSED THIS?????????????????

     I am so mad. Every single day there is something else this fucked up world hands to us on a silver gold platter to lose our minds over. And every single day the Sandy Hook families live with loss.


I don't have anything productive to write tonight. I don't feel any better having written a slew of curse words and sentences in all caps. Nothing can make this feeling OK.

How do we find hope when this all seems so hopeless?

Day 20.2

     Like many others, I'm limping across the finish line of the disaster that is 2017. 

     WTF?!?! Where do I even start? The politics? The mass shootings? White supremacist marches? #metoo? Natural disasters and hurricanes? 

     I think for me, the most painful part of 2017 has to do with mental illness. 

Anyone else tired of this shit?

     Someone inexplicably murders innocent people in a mass shooting and the conversations that follow focus on mental health issues- not gun control. The president posts incoherent tweets and the world questions on his mental health. People speak out on the injustices in the world and they are labeled "crazy snowflakes".

     The news is dominated by stories of powerful men using their positions to sexually assault women. Or those who use their positions to deny basic rights to people of color, members of the LGBTQ community, and those of a lower socioeconomic status. Instability in the Middle East, tensions among nuclear powers...

If you didn't already have depression and anxiety, it wouldn't be surprising if you do now! 

     So much of the conversation surrounding mental health has been when it is used as a scapegoat for the travesties we see before us. The mental health of American citizens is something we discuss only after tragedy strikes. We never celebrate the accomplishments of someone who battles their demons everyday. We don't acknowledge the strength it takes to get out of bed each day when the world sees mental illness as a defect. Fuck. I really have no idea how I do it half the time.

     There are millions of us out here doing the hard work in therapy. Getting our prescriptions filled- and taking those meds. There are millions of supportive families who drive us to appointments when we can't do it ourselves and have the really tough conversations even when we don't want to. 

Those who fight this battle alongside us. 

     This year has been unbearable at times. I've had more anxiety attacks than I care to recount. I'm feeling broken. Some aspects of my life have been repaired. Others have a long way to go. I've hated myself with a passion and anger that scares me, yet I've also fallen in love the person I have become- mental illness included. 

     A huge source of strength for me has been finding my purpose again in music. 

Teaching, singing, listening. 

     I want to spend these last few weeks of 2017 compiling some playlists of the songs that have gotten us through the year. The songs that calm us when we feel the weight of the battles we have yet to fight (literal and figurative), the songs that give us the power to resist, the songs that give us the energy to push through the hard days, the ones that inspire joy- heck, even the ones that turn us on and help bring us some much needed intimacy.

Share your songs and let's set ourselves up with a inspiring soundtrack for 2018. 

We've got a lot of work to do...

Day 19.2

     In the spirit of frank and honest discussions I've had with myself about my role in the world, I'm taking a look at myself as a teacher. I've come to the realization that I've been inadvertently sanitizing the music in my classroom. 

     Work Songs. They are listed in the textbooks as work songs. I've utilized them in class. I've taught and talked about them. But I've never outright said, "these were slave songs". I changed that this week. 

Looking for The Courage to Teach

     14 years of teaching and I thought I was being inclusive and culturally sensitive. I've done a disservice to my students by not calling them what they were, and for that I apologize. 

     Picking cotton was not work. It was slave labor. To call it work is horrendous. I didn't even realize I was doing this. I think I'm a pretty great teacher. I design thoughtful lessons that incorporate a multitude of instructional methods in order to reach every kid that comes through my program. I teach music of various cultures, I use authentic recordings as examples and I reach out to students to find the music that is relevant to them. But for years, I called slave songs "work songs". It may seem small, but I have to own up to the fact that I did not have the hard discussions that I should have.  

     I want students to leave my room with a love for music that will guide them through the trials that lay before them. They are growing up in a world where they will need something to hold on to. They absolutely need to know about the dark experiences of slavery and racism that led to some of our country's most beautiful music. And I'm going to listen to my students and to their experiences. 

     Today I played Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come" for a fourth Grade class. Change is coming here for me. I'm not sanitizing the music I share. We are going to have those tough conversations (age appropriate for sure) and they will leave my class knowing that I cared enough to tell them the truth. 

Day 17.2 & 18.2

     On Wednesday night, I dressed myself up and took myself out. I enjoyed fabulous music, amazing company, and social time with adults. I got to see the fruits of my labor (talented and successful former students) and connect with the parents who raised them. I sang along to music and had great conversations. A coworker who saw me that night told me I looked like a model and that she barely recognized me. Clearly she was exaggerating, but it was almost a punch in the gut during our follow up conversation today. What was it about going out by myself that led me to "glow", well aside from a few too many drinks?

Shadowy picture, but you get the idea

   The key part of this evening was that it was adult time where I was an individual. I spend so much time filing other roles, and I have neglected me. This wasn't a fancy night out, but I made getting ready a priority. I didn't focus on setting up dinner and nighttime activities for kids. I didn't do a quick cleaning of the house. I did my hair, put on makeup, and looked through my closet for a outfit that was flattering- not just the first thing I grabbed from the drawer. I listened to music on the drive out (that wasn't of the kid variety), as opposed to my usual NPR. I let my guard down. I'm so hyper-focused on the kids, the house, the job...

A few nights after this invigorating and liberating night out...

Back to reality. 

     A hysterically screaming toddler. Over an hour of crying. Food didn't work, bath didn't work. 

Extended breastfeeding is simultaneously my savior and the bane of my existence. 

     I know there are people who just say "stop it already!" It seems as if we've been weening for months now. Caroline is not over it though, so I keep trudging along. Obviously there is something about the fact that she's the last one. This phase is the end of my "baby years". Of course, it's a connection that I know will be transformed into something new and wonderful, once the nursing ends. But I also know that it's definitely holding me back from regaining more of myself. 

     How can I be a fierce, individualistic female when I'm still finding myself on the bathroom floor at 7 PM, un-showered, in the same clothes I slept in the prior night, covered in snot and tears, while breastfeeding a naked & tantruming toddler? Do I accept that this phase that will end shortly? Do I really believe that breastfeeding is the only thing that holds me back from asserting myself as an independent woman? 

Something for me to think about.