I suppose this could be yet another perspective piece. Last Monday (MLK Day) we decided that we couldn't stand the dreary, damp fog of Mordor any longer and so we drove 20 minutes south and went hiking up Spencer's Butte. To those of you living where there are "real" mountains, our little Butte will probably seem quite silly. But the view goes on for miles in every direction and allows us to see the distant tops of several volcanic mountains covered year round by snow.
The physical activity was marvelous and, seen from above, the thick blanket of white fog spreading below us in every direction was actually quite pretty. It was also 20 degrees warmer up on top, where we seemed to have joined everybody (and their dog, quite literally) trying to get enough vitamin D to last through the winter.
Snacks on the Butte and then plenty of running around on the sunshiny side. A boys paradise: lots of places to climb.
Okay, he might be the cutest thing I've ever seen. I think REI is getting this picture.
And isn't it hilarious when they pretend to not want their picture taken but they are really smiling because they can't help it?
I love my little ones! I don't have as many pictures from this day of Jedi Knight. My little Trailblazer Boy Scout kept getting way ahead of us. I guess that is what turning 12 is all about! Padawan and the Youngling kept pretty close to momma, however and they needed much encouragement to finish. It is a pretty steep little hike and feet and thighs were giving out by the end. I love reminding them that they can do hard things!
One of my students was pulled from school today. In handcuffs. I didn't see him today because we have a block schedule and it wasn't my day to have him in class. He was pulled for threatening two teachers. Yes, threatening them in a way that leads to national headlines and no new gun laws. But not out loud--to a friend. A third party heard them and became concerned that it was serious so they told a teacher. I wasn't the teacher targeted. And maybe it was just all talk.
Maybe.
If you happen to run into a teen this week who feels a little unloved, try to reach out to them, please. I know this boy's story. And as much as I don't want our school to be another headline, I think that millions of kids like this boy need to be more in the forefront of our thoughts. Learning disabilities. Substance abuse from his caregivers. A restraining order against his mother while aging grandma struggles to feed him. Cutting. Such darkness that there may be no turning back for him. Maybe if these millions living lives of quiet desperation could get a little more positive attention in the form of funded schools, safe communities with green space for clear breathing, and loving families then we would have less of those other kinds of headlines. The ones that shatter lives and make us live in fear.
I hope I am a little more patient tomorrow. A little kinder. A little more forgiving while these kids figure out who they are going to be and reach out in their awkward ways to find guidance.
Sometimes mothering is just a pain in the proverbial butt, you know? Last week we decided to take the kids on a spontaneous trip to the coast on New Year's Day. (Reason 357 to love Oregon, by the by.) The weather here in town has been a bit Mordor-like and we decided to chase the sunshine. The kids were funny about going . . . imagine my children not doing spontaneous well! (There is heavy snark in the last remark.) Anyway, we basically rolled out of bed at ten and hit the road by noon. We hiked first.
And, you know, I just wanted one stinking picture of those little rascals where they were all looking at the camera. Because if the Internet has taught me one thing, it is that perfect family photos are a symbol of perfect families.
Instead I got this series:
I finally put my camera away in disgust and started storming back the way we came--the photos were from our turn-around-spot. I clomped down the trail for a while, tears smarting and feeling it enormously unfair that I'm surrounded by boys ALL THE TIME. But honestly, you've seen my baby boy and when he sidled up next to me with his very contrite face and slipped his hand into mine, I didn't stay mad very long.
Then, few minutes later, I got my perfect shot:
Perfect families are just a myth. Of course. But perfect moments happen all the time. As I looked up that trail toward those four men of varying sizes that I love with an intensity that scares me sometimes, I decided that perfect is for wimps. The challenge and joy of these four is the thing that matters the most.
I just wish, for the love, that they'd stand still for some decent pictures!!
