10 Steps to a Better Week

1. Luxuriate in a weekend blizzard, the first real snowfall of the year, with family and friends tucked safely away for a beautiful, sparkling Saturday. 

2. Survive and dig out from the weekend Snowpocalypse 2016 only to start the week with two days off from school. (Not having to work really takes the sting out of working -- who knew?!) The two-hour delay on Wednesday took some burn out of returning, too. 😉

3. Relish in the simple pleasures, such as a favorite returning TV show after winter hiatus. Even better? Knowing the show missed you almost as much as you missed it, lol. (And in all honesty, Suits is the best for Tweeting and DMing fans...such fun!)

4. Start a new semester of the school year, along with a first-time effort at teaching a Creative Writing course. Discover two days in that the students are brilliant, honest, and fully prepared to express vulnerability through their work. There are some days when I just love my job (though I love "my kids" every day).

5. Discover that a resolution to eat well can actually be delicious and filling, despite initial reservations that grass clippings had found their way into my salad.

6. Engage in a pop culture Battle of the Wits via Twitter (Battle of the Twits? Hmm...) with the very lovely, very Irish Allen O'Donoghue as he calls you a "lazy fecker." Feel internationally resplendent in the sarcasm across the oceans. Consider having a stamp made, for classroom evaluation purposes, that simply says LAZY FECKER. I've never enjoyed being so intercontinentally bested through repartee. 

7. Enter to wake your toddler early in the morning only to discover she fell asleep with a book...Open to a particular page...With a dog that looks just like the family pet. Curl into a ball and cry (after taking a picture, of course).

8. Spend a chilly evening in front of a crackling fire with family. Yep. Sometimes, it's just that simple.

9. Realize that for all the stress and anxiety of day-to-day life, sometimes there's nothing better -- or more fulfilling -- than a day of no immediate obligations filled with laughter and love. 

10. Remember that, if this week (or day or hour) wasn't so great...you have the good fortune to keep trying. Sometimes all you need is time and opportunity: take them.

Wishing you the best of weeks, or the boldest re-do on the next go-round. ❤️

Heart & Soul

I got my hair done today, a cut and color building back to my natural shade with a few fun pit stops along the way. There's just a hint of blonde added to the gray, still letting the dark roots peek through, the slightest reminder of my "normal" color.

Getting my hair done, regularly and professionally, is one of the luxuries in which I indulge. One perk is my amazing stylist, a woman who is what I want to be  when I grow up (even though she's younger than I am). We chat, as stylist and client are wont to do, often focusing on the merits and challenges of partaking in a less-than ... traditional ... appearance. Other than funky hair colors, we both love our tattoos. My most prominent ink, of course, is the large skull piece on my foot.

Besides my hair and skin (kind of significant components in regards to appearance, lol), I love quirky clothing, too. One example? My Lichtenstein-esque cardigan from (the incredible!) ModCloth. 

So what do looks have to do with anything, particularly the "Heart & Soul" to which this post refers? Well ... everything, of course. I have been fortunate enough to live a life with the daily privilege of food, clothing, and a roof over my head. I am tremendously grateful that I've never had to struggle to attain the basic necessities, yet the necessities don't immediately signify living. To do, to be, to feel, to experience ... we need more. We need joy and art and stories...and maybe then, beyond a life, we can actually live.

The Little Things

Sometimes life tosses hard knocks your way...consistently...over an extended period of time. You can either let yourself drown in the difficulties (an understandable response to life kicking your ass), or you can find joy in the little things. 

For instance?

Take 1: I went to work the other day with nothing for lunch other than a container of yogurt and about three bites of Gracie's leftover Frozen-themed chicken noodle soup. Before first period, one of my students came to my room to celebrate: "Mrs. Deibler! I did it -- I got my permit!!!" (We'd talked about it the day before.) "I made food for my Spanish class, but I brought you some since I thought you'd like it! And by the way [she whispered]...I'm not giving any to any of my other teachers!" BOOM! A sweet student, a success story, and a perfectly-timed homemade lunch. It was DELICIOUS.

Take 2: We were bombarded with over two feet of snow this past weekend. Other than stocking up on rum and making sure my Netflix account was up-to-date, I wasn't really sure how I'd spend the time stuck in the house until...BOOM...my OwlCrate arrived with a brand spankin' new book to keep me company during the blizzard. The book is FANTASTIC.

Take 3: One of the concerns with having an active, precocious child is the constant worry: am I enough? So with two days in a row of unplanned snow days to occupy a busy toddler, I had to question if I could do right by her in a pinch. Well, she's into numbers and food, so BOOM! Baking cookies...what could be better? She'd attest: not much. By the way...they are INCREDIBLE (and more importantly...we had so damn much fun!).

Truth of the matter is, life can be so tough at times, so hard just to catch a break and breathe while going about the day, pretending all is well from minute-to-minute. But for whatever reason, we don't have to pretend all the time. Because sometimes, God or life or fate (who knows) hands us some lifelines...and man, how it makes me smile when they float beside me in my times of need. 

Hang on, sweethearts...we're all in this together and, at the end of the day...no one here gets out alive...but wow, the ride is worth it. ❤️

Snow Day

As a student, I didn't think there was anything more glorious than seeing one single word in the winter: CLOSED. But I was WRONG--it is far more satisfying to see CLOSED as a teacher than as a student. Need proof? Boom!!!!

And those are only two of the many social media posts that appeared within minutes of the CLOSED announcement. Yet I continually stand by my assertion that we all do this job because we love it...

...bonus snow day giddiness notwithstanding. So why do we get so wound up? Well, we can't help it. We don't have to plan or grade or do anything related to work (unless we choose to do so which, yeah, we pretty much all do). This is the stack of grading, researching, and planning I did on the day off, and I'd bet it's a small workload compared to many others.

But in between doing my work (in a hoodie from the comfort of my sofa--always a bonus!), I was able to stop being a "teacher", if only for short bursts at a time.

We made s'mores in the fireplace...

...went to the store to peruse the trendiest winter fashions...

...and made the most of, well, the snow.

I firmly believe that the best part of teaching is the people: my students and my coworkers. That's why the other parts of the job can be so infuriating: the paperwork, the politics, the ever-changing expectations and dictates about how to do the job. So why does a snow day (or even the potential for one) make us so excited?

Because it lets us (and our kiddos) take some unplanned time to relax, to recharge, to enjoy moments for ourselves, something we so rarely get on a typical work day. We can play in the moment and enjoy the experience without the added drama--something that brought so many of us to the classroom in the first place.

Stay warm, my loves.☺️

Faking It

Have you ever stopped to think about where you are? (And not in the, "Why did I walk into this room?" way, though I do that, too.) More like, when did someone decide I could be a grown-up?

I started teaching fresh out of college. That was one time when I was acutely aware while in the moment: who on God's green earth decided I, an air-headed barely-20-something could be responsible for more than 100 teenagers throughout the course of a day?! FOOLS! Ha! Whew, scary stuff, this career business!

I got married when I was 23 (which, in hindsight...wow, that's young!).

Then I was a ripe old 29 when I welcomed my baby girl into the world.

By my 30th birthday, I had a full-time (relatively) established teaching career, a marriage, and a child. And looking around when I turned 30, I realized that I was an adult. My next thought, one I've had pretty much every day since then, was: how the hell did this happen?!!? I have a house, a family (with pets, by God!), and I even have a desk...at work...with a computer... and paperclips... and a nameplate, all kinds of adult things. Who decided I'd earned this?!

You know what else is on my desk? Various inspirational/optimistic posters/memes that I believe-- wholeheartedly--for my amazing students, for my friends, for my stunning baby girl. 

But you know who I don't believe them for? I don't believe them for me. And I feel like the world's biggest hypocrite because...I'm scared. I'm so scared to do what terrifies me, what I'm afraid to fail at, but even more afraid what I might succeed at. And man...the possibility of success, of greatness...it's damned terrifying.

Everyone fails; it's just a part of the process. But to succeed? That is something unique, something special. And if I can convince even one student to try for the exceptional? Well, maybe, just maybe...I can try for myself. Because, you know...

Whew. Isn't that a scary -- and wonderfully intoxicating  -- feeling?! I think so...and I can't wait to find out.

Forever Friend

A night with friends, without children, requires dressing up, reservations, and extensive plans. A night with best friends? Well, that's something else entirely. Consider the wardrobe (photo taken before 6pm, thankyouverymuch!):

Then, you have the evening's activities. First, sustenance:

We did have sandwich wraps, cookies, and delivered pizza, as well...those photos aren't nearly so impressive, though. Then came the entertainment portion of the evening, meant to accommodate both the stationary and the active.

Don't judge -- Kinect (even bowling) is a workout!!!

This is all typical of my date nights with my dearest friend Katie (and our husbands, too). So what makes it anything more than another night in? Well, first is the notion that she's one of the only other people I know who would plan a shot around the loss of Alan Rickman with the creation of The Slytherin Mudblood (surprisingly smooth):

It might seem minor, but not everyone appreciates the depth and joy and importance of all art, including film. Katie appreciates that beauty more than anyone I know, and it is one of many reasons I feel so at ease even if we don't see each other very often. Another reason? 

She is quite possibly the only person I would allow to post this picture of me for all the world to see.

What makes this picture special is that it was taken when we were both laughing so hard over yet another innocently, naively ditzy comment I made during a Battleship showdown. (I'd gladly share, but you really did have to be there. Just take it off the board, right, Katie?!)

And as absurdly carefree and even irresponsible as the night may seem, it wasn't. The whole point of our get-together was to be with someone who loves you, understands you, and is there for you no matter what...something you can only ask of a best friend. We all went to bed by 11pm and woke before 8am; our "date" ended with a Sunday morning breakfast out. Dutch fries...nom-nom....

And we parted ways until our next get-together, which might be next month or next year. But no matter how much time until our next time, I know Katie and I will pick up right where we always leave things: as best friends.

Story Time

We found out the other day that Gracie's wayward kitty friend Figaro met his demise, on our street no less. 

Never one to favor cats, I was startled by the depth of sadness I felt, both over Figaro's death AND especially how we would address this with our beautiful, vibrant 3-year old who very nearly trembles with life and energy. Which is why, when she asked about Figaro the next night, I paused to ponder the best way to respond. Brian had no such qualms: "He died. He's gone."

While my response was essentially a more traumatized version of this,

Grace responded much more calmly.

She quickly grasped that she won't see the kitty again, that he's gone. And she's seemingly moved on quite well, despite (or maybe because of) Brian's blunt declaration. I took this interaction and tried to parlay it into something useful -- I decided to bring this conversation into the classroom.

See, my students and I have been talking about allegory in The Old Man and the Sea and why people don't always say exactly what they mean. So I told a total of about 80 students about my toddler, her long-gone feline friend, and my husband's verbal diarrhea to illustrate the contradictory point: here's what it sounds like to say exactly what you mean. And do you know how those adolescents responded? Listening to my story in absolute silence, they responded with laughter, with sympathy, and with a maturity beyond their years. (They might also have requested that I bring Brian in for show-and-tell. 😉) 

All of this convinced me of one thing: we LIVE for stories. Stories of life, stories of death, and everything in between. Because when we start share our stories, we start sharing ourselves. And there is nothing more important than sharing who we are.

Star Light, Star Bright

I've always felt news reports deeply, whether they're bound to pop culture, politics, or anything in between. The death of Ray Bradbury, George W. Bush's declaration of war in Iraq, Kate Middleton's pregnancies, so many others...I respond on a human, visceral level, something bound to my very being. I just take a gut-punch (positive AND negative) response to news of the miraculous, everyday experiences of the world. 

So it was no surprise then, that news of David Bowie's death sent me on an interlude of sadness. It did, however, make me happy beyond belief that I was able to incorporate him into my daily lessons, in an authentic and natural way.

A lesson on allegory, on literary interpretation: there's really no better way to express the meaning of academic understanding. So it was strange for me to consider that my responses were beyond the academic. For instance, I was awake at 3AM looking for Grace's beloved friend, StarPup.

I've no reason for the name she gave this simple plastic toy: StarPup. There's nothing on him to suggest the name, nor is there any outside influence on her (David Bowie has never been a standby in our house), but Grace chose this morning, at approximately the announced time of David Bowie's death, to ask me to help her find her StarPup. Coincidence?! Yeah...probably. 

But the optimist, the dreamer, the storyteller in me can't help but wonder...maybe? Maybe Grace felt a ripple effect in the universe. Maybe something greater than us allowed us to be heroes, just for one day (and God, isn't that the perpetual role of a parent?!). Maybe my greatest hope is true: stories, art, music...they all transcend our understanding. And man, what a relief that is, to know that something more than us carries on. 

Yes. Stories, thoughts, ideas...they're so worthwhile. 

Fly high, StarMan. Thank you for your beauty.

Sick & Tired of Being, Well...You Know

For this past five-day work week, I took two sick days, spent one day at a district conference, and spent two days in the classroom just treading water. My days in the classroom were met with multiple variations of, "You sound/look awful." Well, thank you, I hadn't been aware. 😉 

And after the days of rest and thorough OTC medication, d'you know how I felt? Guilty. I felt guilty. Who am I to take sick days or go to conferences or have a full-period writing assignment when I could be doing so much more? 

I have a history of getting bronchitis and/or pneumonia each winter, along with last year's spectacular hospital visit with asthmatic bronchitis, coinciding with a rapid heartbeat resulting in a delayed ER discharge...all charming ailments, of course. These are a few of the treatments I use.

Authentic, verified health issues...and I feel guilty. Why? My guess is basic. As a female, as a mom, as a teacher, I'm expected to take care of people, as long as those people don't include me. I'm not alone in this feeling, yet I've no solutions for it. Don't get me wrong; I didn't spend my days in abject misery. I slept (A LOT), I read & watched TV shows (hello, Making a Murderer!), and I lounged around with my favorite beautiful blondes. 

And then, after a night of hacking & wheezing & slurping down my inhaler, do you know what I was doing before 7:30 this morning? Cleaning the house and heading into work to make sure I was prepared for Monday after an unexpectedly absent week....all while taking puffs on my inhaler and keeping track of the time to get cough syrup in an appropriate time frame. In the inimitable words of Ms. Betty White:

Yes, yes they do. I make no excuses or apologies right now. If there is a woman in your life -- or if you are that woman -- allow her the rest and solitude she needs. Why? Because if I'm even half the woman she is, we're putting every moment into making life easier, more fun, better for everyone around us. And sometimes all we need is a bit of time to focus on us...without the guilt.