If you're anything like me, you spent the majority of your Sunday evening watching the Grammy Awards-and tweeting about everything from the fashion to the music to the presenters to the lighting effects (and the water). Yet as the evening wore on I began to notice a trend among my twitter feed (aside from the quirky mix of Downton-ites ignoring the Grammys, the weather-watchers glued to the tornado outbreak, and my school counseling tweeps engaged in their regular Sunday night edchat). There was a chorus of "my opinion on music is superior to yours." This caused me to back slowly away from engaging in any real banter with many of those whom I love chatting with on a regular basis. I mean, come on, this is music. The great uniter. The one thing we should all agree on. Yet suddenly the battle lines were drawn.
I understand I have what I consider "quirky" taste in music. In one commute to work I can switch between a country music station, a grunge 90's station, some jazz on my iPhone, and a little blues. I love classical music in a nerdtastical way (as in, I have favorite composers and eras). I will tune in to Folk Night on the NPR station when I'm back home on the weekends. I love me a good banjo player. Don't get me started on the mandolin.
You may not find any rap, urban, hip-hop, classic rock, hard rock, much pop, or electronica music in my music library. But that certainly does not mean I don't appreciate the talents those musicians bring to the table. What amazed me was the derision many had for them last night. I saw derogatory comments for just about every musician that took the stage. From Sir Elton John to Zac Brown Band, the Black Keys and Prince. I mean seriously people. These are some of the best musical minds of our generation. They may not make the music you choose to purchase, but that does not mean you cannot bring yourself to appreciate what they bring to the table. I may not like what Richard Wagner or Phillip Glass composed, and do not choose to listen to any of it, but I realize they have unique talents and skills.
I think I will take Kelly Clarkson's approach. I may not know who Miguel is, but damn if I didn't find his performance amazing. I think the best thing the Grammy Awards can do for us is celebrate the musicians we love and open our eyes to ones we don't know about. I have a few albums I will be investing in soon. And yes, I'm totally, unashamedly, on the Justin Timberlake bandwagon.
notes from the middle
Monday, February 11, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
Reconnecting and Reunions
Today I am exhausted. Eyes must be propped open on toothpicks just to stay open. Limbs are filled with lead. I am moving with the slowness of one stuck in a vat of molasses.
We spent our weekend travelling. The primary objective was a Rosanne Cash concert to see in Colonial Willamsburg. It was a much needed escape for me and my husband. A long dinner out over wine and good food. A weekend spent in one of our honeymoon spots. Meeting up with my stepdaughter and her husband for lunch since we were close enough to see them. An evening filled with good music and laughter. Conversation that wasn't constantly interrupted by a kindergartner's stream-of-consciousness banter. While a substantial chunk of Saturday and Sunday were spent in airports and on airplanes getting to and from our destination, I can say without reservation it was just what we needed. Even the time travelling. We needed the reconnection. Life has a way of getting in the way of couples. No matter how much we try to be present in our relationships. The minutiae of day-to-day life gets in there and can make you feel, well, just, meh. A weekend like this was just what the doctor ordered. Of course now all I want to do is be at home, with the fireplace roaring, snuggled down on his shoulder watching Out of Africa on repeat. So then there's that...
One of the sweetest things this weekend though had nothing to do with us. It came at the tail end of our trip. We were rushing to make our connecting flight back to Ohio (which ended up delayed by several hours). Once at the gate, I sat down breathlessly next to a woman with the most adorable little baby girl ever in the history of the universe. Husband continued on to find a restroom. I gushed to her about how sweet her little sleeping girl was. She told me she had been travelling from Nigeria and asked about the delay. Then asked if I had a phone she could borrow to call her husband.
Come again? She's been travelling from Nigeria. Alone. With a nine-month old baby girl? Let's all pause for a moment in respect for this mother.
So the rest of her story was all the more sweet. Her husband had left in August to start his MBA program at The Ohio State University. Their daughter was only 3 months old then. They haven't seen each other since. She was on her way to Columbus to join him with their little girl in her arms. Non stop flying, connections, more flying. Hasn't ever been out of Nigeria in her life. I have to mention here she was wearing sandals. She spoke to her husband on my phone for a bit, telling him she loved him, she was sorry about the delay, they would be there soon, the baby was fine, etc, etc. It was adorable. I wanted to hug her, but didn't want to wake the baby. When husband arrived back from the restroom we all chatted on and off through the duration of the delay. Once we boarded our flight she disappeared from view until landing. I saw her at the gate where she asked how to get to baggage-and urgent look on her face. I felt tears stinging my eyes with joy for her. A little while later as we exited the airport to our shuttle I saw to my right a taller man holding up that little, beautiful baby girl in his arms, smiling ear-to-ear, as her mother beamed from a bench below. The family was reunited on a cold and snowy Ohio evening.
Yes, it was a perfect weekend. With a perfect ending. We even got to reunite with our boy who wanted to stay longer with his friends. Which is completely understandable. The beginnings of independence are blossoming in him.
For now though, I will get back to work and hope that this next mug of coffee will wake me up. Or something like that...
We spent our weekend travelling. The primary objective was a Rosanne Cash concert to see in Colonial Willamsburg. It was a much needed escape for me and my husband. A long dinner out over wine and good food. A weekend spent in one of our honeymoon spots. Meeting up with my stepdaughter and her husband for lunch since we were close enough to see them. An evening filled with good music and laughter. Conversation that wasn't constantly interrupted by a kindergartner's stream-of-consciousness banter. While a substantial chunk of Saturday and Sunday were spent in airports and on airplanes getting to and from our destination, I can say without reservation it was just what we needed. Even the time travelling. We needed the reconnection. Life has a way of getting in the way of couples. No matter how much we try to be present in our relationships. The minutiae of day-to-day life gets in there and can make you feel, well, just, meh. A weekend like this was just what the doctor ordered. Of course now all I want to do is be at home, with the fireplace roaring, snuggled down on his shoulder watching Out of Africa on repeat. So then there's that...
One of the sweetest things this weekend though had nothing to do with us. It came at the tail end of our trip. We were rushing to make our connecting flight back to Ohio (which ended up delayed by several hours). Once at the gate, I sat down breathlessly next to a woman with the most adorable little baby girl ever in the history of the universe. Husband continued on to find a restroom. I gushed to her about how sweet her little sleeping girl was. She told me she had been travelling from Nigeria and asked about the delay. Then asked if I had a phone she could borrow to call her husband.
Come again? She's been travelling from Nigeria. Alone. With a nine-month old baby girl? Let's all pause for a moment in respect for this mother.
So the rest of her story was all the more sweet. Her husband had left in August to start his MBA program at The Ohio State University. Their daughter was only 3 months old then. They haven't seen each other since. She was on her way to Columbus to join him with their little girl in her arms. Non stop flying, connections, more flying. Hasn't ever been out of Nigeria in her life. I have to mention here she was wearing sandals. She spoke to her husband on my phone for a bit, telling him she loved him, she was sorry about the delay, they would be there soon, the baby was fine, etc, etc. It was adorable. I wanted to hug her, but didn't want to wake the baby. When husband arrived back from the restroom we all chatted on and off through the duration of the delay. Once we boarded our flight she disappeared from view until landing. I saw her at the gate where she asked how to get to baggage-and urgent look on her face. I felt tears stinging my eyes with joy for her. A little while later as we exited the airport to our shuttle I saw to my right a taller man holding up that little, beautiful baby girl in his arms, smiling ear-to-ear, as her mother beamed from a bench below. The family was reunited on a cold and snowy Ohio evening.
Yes, it was a perfect weekend. With a perfect ending. We even got to reunite with our boy who wanted to stay longer with his friends. Which is completely understandable. The beginnings of independence are blossoming in him.
For now though, I will get back to work and hope that this next mug of coffee will wake me up. Or something like that...
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Finding my Voice
I've spent a few years in a bit of a professional rut of sorts. One where I felt like my wheels are spinning. Like my job isn't that important. But seriously-ask that one student who went to a school counselor with that one giant thing they couldn't tell anyone else, how important the school counselor is.
Pretty damn important.
The truth is, I've lost sight of my professional identity. It has been whittled away by scheduling, paperwork, office moves, assignment changes, chasing after new positions that were not attained, others' attitudes, and by allowing those outside of myself to define my professional worth.
That ends now. I have been at this job for seven years. Nearly eight at this point. (I mean, it is the second semester, so that counts for something, right?) Not to mention the four years of teaching English. I have had enough of waiting for value to be placed on what I do.
Ask the students who have graduated while I've held their hands through mountains of correspondence classes, career tech applications, open enrollment paperwork, and found them homes because their parents kicked them out. They will tell you how vital my job is.
Ask the students who came to see me when they felt no one else on this planet even knew they existed. But I did. Ask them if school counselors matter.
Ask the students who slip notes under my door about their (ex boyfriends, stepfathers, moms, brothers) abusing them because they are not able to say it aloud. Yet they cannot take it anymore. See if a school counselor was important to them.
Talk to the teens who used to cut, but instead come and hang with me when the urge hits. Or the ones who have relapsed and confess this tearfully, only to hear me say "It's okay. We will start over. Today is new. You are not a bad person." Ask them if school counselors are important in their recovery.
Call the parents who keep me on the phone with questions about the teenagers who baffle them because just yesterday they were perfect elementary students who listened and today they are sullen and sulky with crazy dyed hair and kohl lined eyes. The parents who see me after graduation and thank me for being there when their students would only talk to me and no one else. Ask those parents if school counselors matter.
I am tired of being asked "just what do you do?" I am tired of being relegated to a minor role. I will no longer let this happen. Because I am important.
I am your child's biggest cheerleader.
I am your child's ray of light on their worst day at school.
I am the advocate for each student, no matter who they are.
Pretty damn important.
The truth is, I've lost sight of my professional identity. It has been whittled away by scheduling, paperwork, office moves, assignment changes, chasing after new positions that were not attained, others' attitudes, and by allowing those outside of myself to define my professional worth.
That ends now. I have been at this job for seven years. Nearly eight at this point. (I mean, it is the second semester, so that counts for something, right?) Not to mention the four years of teaching English. I have had enough of waiting for value to be placed on what I do.
Ask the students who have graduated while I've held their hands through mountains of correspondence classes, career tech applications, open enrollment paperwork, and found them homes because their parents kicked them out. They will tell you how vital my job is.
Ask the students who came to see me when they felt no one else on this planet even knew they existed. But I did. Ask them if school counselors matter.
Ask the students who slip notes under my door about their (ex boyfriends, stepfathers, moms, brothers) abusing them because they are not able to say it aloud. Yet they cannot take it anymore. See if a school counselor was important to them.
Talk to the teens who used to cut, but instead come and hang with me when the urge hits. Or the ones who have relapsed and confess this tearfully, only to hear me say "It's okay. We will start over. Today is new. You are not a bad person." Ask them if school counselors are important in their recovery.
Call the parents who keep me on the phone with questions about the teenagers who baffle them because just yesterday they were perfect elementary students who listened and today they are sullen and sulky with crazy dyed hair and kohl lined eyes. The parents who see me after graduation and thank me for being there when their students would only talk to me and no one else. Ask those parents if school counselors matter.
I am tired of being asked "just what do you do?" I am tired of being relegated to a minor role. I will no longer let this happen. Because I am important.
I am your child's biggest cheerleader.
I am your child's ray of light on their worst day at school.
I am the advocate for each student, no matter who they are.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
When You are Five
You sing out loud without worrying what other people will think.
You dance to your song, not considering if your moves are cool.
You give food an actual thumbs-down when you put it in your mouth and it tastes bad.
You tell someone if you like them (or not).
You love with your whole heart.
You want to learn all the things.
When you are five you filter nothing and take in everything.
Last night our son was at swimming lessons. He is re-taking the same level again. It is clear he has the same fear of water I had at his age. I am not too concerned about this, as once I got over the fear I became a fish and would swim any time I encountered so much as a puddle. The instructor took the students into the deep end and onto the short dive board. When it came to his turn he crouched down on the end and it was clear he didn't want to jump in. She seems to be no-nonsense, and I could tell she was commanding him to get in. Once he did, and bobbed to the surface (with the help of a noodle tied to his waist) he was over the moon. He climbed the ladder, skipped to the back of the line, was singing loudly, and danced while punching at the sky. Oblivious to the looks other kids were giving him. Not caring what anyone thought. He conquered a fear. He was celebrating. His next jump was a jump. An arms in the air, catapulting himself upwards off the board with all his might, splashing in fine five-year-old boy form, jump.
When I witnessed this, I thought we could all learn a little from five year-olds. They are uninhibited still. They revel in their emotions. Free of the temper tantrums of toddlerhood, yet allow themselves to fully immerse in joy and sorrow. Willing to sing out loud whatever is in their head. Willing to dance if so moved. Willing to celebrate accomplishments with abandon. When do we lose this? I think I am going to try to take some of it back. Dance some more. Sing even if I am off key. And I won't worry (or at least try not to) who thinks I've lost my mind. Because after all, why shouldn't I celebrate the best moments in life with gusto?
You dance to your song, not considering if your moves are cool.
You give food an actual thumbs-down when you put it in your mouth and it tastes bad.
You tell someone if you like them (or not).
You love with your whole heart.
You want to learn all the things.
When you are five you filter nothing and take in everything.
Last night our son was at swimming lessons. He is re-taking the same level again. It is clear he has the same fear of water I had at his age. I am not too concerned about this, as once I got over the fear I became a fish and would swim any time I encountered so much as a puddle. The instructor took the students into the deep end and onto the short dive board. When it came to his turn he crouched down on the end and it was clear he didn't want to jump in. She seems to be no-nonsense, and I could tell she was commanding him to get in. Once he did, and bobbed to the surface (with the help of a noodle tied to his waist) he was over the moon. He climbed the ladder, skipped to the back of the line, was singing loudly, and danced while punching at the sky. Oblivious to the looks other kids were giving him. Not caring what anyone thought. He conquered a fear. He was celebrating. His next jump was a jump. An arms in the air, catapulting himself upwards off the board with all his might, splashing in fine five-year-old boy form, jump.
When I witnessed this, I thought we could all learn a little from five year-olds. They are uninhibited still. They revel in their emotions. Free of the temper tantrums of toddlerhood, yet allow themselves to fully immerse in joy and sorrow. Willing to sing out loud whatever is in their head. Willing to dance if so moved. Willing to celebrate accomplishments with abandon. When do we lose this? I think I am going to try to take some of it back. Dance some more. Sing even if I am off key. And I won't worry (or at least try not to) who thinks I've lost my mind. Because after all, why shouldn't I celebrate the best moments in life with gusto?
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Unearthing from Holidays
First order of business, I know...I had a giveaway. I am a bad blogger and failed to announce the winner! Congrats Lista! I will be in touch soon to get you your beautiful piece of glass that is currently in my office.
Second order of business, I have been um, well, um, BUSY. Who's idea was it to have Clarkmas, Christmas Eve, and Christmas stacked on top of each other? I mean, come on fates! We cooked and cleaned and mixed drinks like no ones business. Don't get me wrong, I love, love, love having family and friends over but I may have slightly lost my mind during the process. Not to mention we packed up Blanche and drove to the East Coast to visit the stepdaughter and her husband. It was a whirlwind! I am not certain what happened, but I know in the past few weeks we have seen the new Martin Luther King Jr memorial, opened gifts from Santa, had a Clark family viewing of the film Lawless, got a tour of stepson-in-law's naval ship, watched some bowl games, baked cookies, filled toys with batteries, and built some lego models.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Oh, sorry. That was just me recovering from one of the spontaneous naps that seem to overtake me at a moment's notice. I hope they pass soon.
Now that the busy season has passed at home, I am moving into the busy season at work. Scheduling, career tech center applications, parent student conferences, orientations, planning for next year and trying to coordinate a move into a newly remodeled building at the end of it all. I'm kind of geeked out about the last part. Ever since I was hired at my current district I've been a state of moving. Like the military family of school counselors. I kid you not, in the seven years there I have had six offices. Rumor has it that this new one may be permanent. I am plotting and planning for it. I want decorations that aren't taped to the walls. A Keurig with my favorite k-cups. A floor lamp that doesn't wobble like it is about to come apart just from turning it on and off. A place where students feel they can come and feel warm and welcomed. Where parents feel comfortable to talk. Homey and professional. I. Can't. Wait.
How are is every one else's New Years going? I hope well. I haven't disappeared, promise. Just buried. I will keep writing! See y'all soon!
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Seasonal Homesickness Disorder
Oh snow, I miss you. I miss your giant fluffy flakes that drift down. I miss your swirling white-outs when I'm sitting in my living room in front of a fire. I miss your cottony-soft drifts that pile up on the roadside and turn our generally flat landscape into tunnels and hills and valleys. I miss the sharp-edged trees getting flocked with coats of white.
We haven't had any snow here at all since last March. Early last March. And truly, it hasn't really snowed here in over a year. I mean a real Ohio snow. The kind that we cook batches of chili, eat peanut butter sandwiches, and drink lots of hot coffee for. The kind where schools close for a day while the streets get plowed out. The kind that makes us grateful for summer's heat and sunshine. Last winter was gloriously beautiful. It was warm enough that I ran outdoors much of the time. Without bundling up. It was sunny more often than not. There were days I walked out of my office and it smelled like spring-in January and February. When we bought my brand-new convertible it was March 17 and I was able to drive her home with the top down. This is so not typical. I was appreciative of the break in the weather. But I long for a good snowstorm. I know there are those who don't love snow. Those who loathe winter. But I love each season and the extremes. I wouldn't be a good Midwesterner if I didn't. Something feels like it is missing around here right now. Until we get the warnings to slow down on the roads, the schools start closing, and the winds start howling, I won't feel as though it truly is winter. And spring won't be as lovely. Nor will summer.
Can someone bring back my proper seasons? I miss them so.
We haven't had any snow here at all since last March. Early last March. And truly, it hasn't really snowed here in over a year. I mean a real Ohio snow. The kind that we cook batches of chili, eat peanut butter sandwiches, and drink lots of hot coffee for. The kind where schools close for a day while the streets get plowed out. The kind that makes us grateful for summer's heat and sunshine. Last winter was gloriously beautiful. It was warm enough that I ran outdoors much of the time. Without bundling up. It was sunny more often than not. There were days I walked out of my office and it smelled like spring-in January and February. When we bought my brand-new convertible it was March 17 and I was able to drive her home with the top down. This is so not typical. I was appreciative of the break in the weather. But I long for a good snowstorm. I know there are those who don't love snow. Those who loathe winter. But I love each season and the extremes. I wouldn't be a good Midwesterner if I didn't. Something feels like it is missing around here right now. Until we get the warnings to slow down on the roads, the schools start closing, and the winds start howling, I won't feel as though it truly is winter. And spring won't be as lovely. Nor will summer.
Can someone bring back my proper seasons? I miss them so.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Mag Glass Giveaway
I have never had a giveaway here before. For a variety of reasons...I've only wanted to feature products from artists/crafters/bakers that I know and adore. I've been too lazy to go and seek the right fit for this space to do a giveaway. And I haven't ever stumbled into the item that is the right fit. Well, now I have. A very good friend of mine, along with her husband, has started up a business selling their glass art. Mag Glass features various pieces of hot glass and fused glass art. I am fortunate enough to own a few myself that have shown up as holiday gifts. A beautiful paperweight that resides in our living room-not on my desk. It is just too pretty for my office! I also have a necklace of white, black and orange (our school colors) that I wear on Fridays to work. Perfect for a girl who doesn't always view staff spirit wear as team sweatshirts.
So the details. There are two pieces you may choose from...
Pretty, right? If you are the lucky winner you have your choice of the snowflake or the paperweight. I'm partial to the snowflake, but that may be because it is almost Christmas and we haven't seen snow round these parts in over 200 days.
Here is how to enter...you must comment on this post with your name, a valid email address, and the piece you would choose.
Bonus entries:
1. Following Mag Glass on Facebook and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.
2. Following Midwestern Modern Momma's Facebook page and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.
3. Following this blog through Google Friend Connect and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.
4. Following @jmwclark on twitter and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.
The giveaway is open until Friday December 21 at 11:59 p.m. EST. The giveaway is only open to U.S. residents. Be sure a valid email address is included with your comment(s). Winner will be chosen randomly and announced on this post. We will email the winner and if the winner doesn’t respond in 48 hours, a new winner will be chosen. Good luck!
Disclosure: This giveaway is being provided by Mag Glass, but my opinions are my own.
So the details. There are two pieces you may choose from...
Pretty, right? If you are the lucky winner you have your choice of the snowflake or the paperweight. I'm partial to the snowflake, but that may be because it is almost Christmas and we haven't seen snow round these parts in over 200 days.
Here is how to enter...you must comment on this post with your name, a valid email address, and the piece you would choose.
Bonus entries:
1. Following Mag Glass on Facebook and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.
2. Following Midwestern Modern Momma's Facebook page and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.
3. Following this blog through Google Friend Connect and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.
4. Following @jmwclark on twitter and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.
The giveaway is open until Friday December 21 at 11:59 p.m. EST. The giveaway is only open to U.S. residents. Be sure a valid email address is included with your comment(s). Winner will be chosen randomly and announced on this post. We will email the winner and if the winner doesn’t respond in 48 hours, a new winner will be chosen. Good luck!
Disclosure: This giveaway is being provided by Mag Glass, but my opinions are my own.
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