Motherbrain

There are several kinds of waiting. There is the anticipation of a new experience, the rush of joy at the possibilities open to you. Another kind of waiting is the white - knuckle,  nail biting fear that grips you when you think of all the things that could go disastrously wrong.  A third kind is an angry impatience, a toe -  tapping rush of fury as you start to catalog all the things done to you and done to the world by the one you're waiting for.  There are hints of all three kinds of waiting in the Advent Season.  We wait happily for the wonders of the season and the promises that  Incarnation brings. We also feel a little of the fear, wondering what the next year will hold, afraid of hidden terrors and the darkness of the unknown. There is sometimes also the anger of a promise seemingly forgotten, the fear transmuting into a quiet,  simmering rage.  How we wait is a choice we make every day of the season.  We decide whether to embrace...

No, third graders, not all pictures are selfies. Just as your question cannot be answered in the exact moment it begins to percolate in your brain, no matter how many times you call my name. The world is a strange and beautiful place. Sometimes more beautiful, sometimes more strange.  I worry about how my protective urges could affect the worldview of the small people in my care. Am I creating a  mob of angry minions who demand their every whim be fulfilled?  Or are my students learning to live wildly and freely in a world that won't give them more than a possible push in a direction that mi ght be right? There is a fine line between security and freedom, and I am seeing that line is drawn when the children are small.  They'll push that line either way sometimes, and complain about the direction they pushed it.  I'm learning there are so many more lessons than reading, writing and arithmetic that we teach, and most of them are never on the syllabus, even when ...