I recently watched the biopic Jackie about the life of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. What I hadn't realized before watching the film was that she had actually been the mother of five children, not two. She miscarried her first child, had a stillborn daughter her next pregnancy, went on to have Caroline and John, Jr., and then gave birth to a boy that only lived for two days. What's even more remarkable was that she lost her husband only three months after her son's death.
Some may wonder why she put herself through conceiving again and again after experiencing such loss. I believe this is the power and strength of the love that comes with being a mother. We lay our hearts out there (sometimes again and again) for our babies, despite knowing the pain that could come.
I feel so lucky to have grown up rich,
to have grown up privileged--
never having had to do without.
Our family was so rich in love & laughter that, despite what I can now look back and see as a modest upbringing & tight income, it never occurred to me we were lacking anything.
I was so privileged to be raised in a home where we were the priorities--
I never once scanned the classroom or audience wondering if mom or dad would be there,
I never once went without the school clothes or the dance lessons, although I can now look back and see that my parents went without quite a bit for themselves.
I'm turning 40 tomorrow.
Just typing that sentence is crazy. Turning 40 amidst all the Coronavirus-ness is even crazier. There's a lot about this turning 40 thing I never pictured.
First, I never pictured feeling so--well--not 40. I suppose everyone feels that way. I certainly don't feel the way I pictured I would when I was younger. I guess what I mean is that I don't feel the way 40 seemed to me back then: old! I don't feel over the hill--I feel like I'm just setting out to climb the hill, just getting started on the REAL journey. There's this feeling like I'm coming into my own, dropping what other think or feel I should be doing, and just living a more free life on my own terms. It feels a little like the dress rehearsal is over and the actual show is beginning.
I also never envisioned celebrating 40 six feet apart from those I love in cloth masks but hey, given what's going on I'm just happy to celebrate another birthday feeling well and happy that those I love are here to say hello, even if from a distance. And, I have to admit, for an introvert with a bit of social anxiety I'm actually finding not having a big blowout kinda cozy. My own parties always end up feeling like a sweaty, nervous, happy whirlwind that I don't end up remembering well later because of the mixture of beverages and being in my own head the whole time. Last night my husband bought all my favorite snacks and we camped in the backyard with strung lights and wine and s'mores. As we laid down for bed my boy whispered "this was the best day of my life". I don't know if he would've said that after the big shindig we originally had planned at the nice hotel on the water with 20+ people. The best day of his life is the best day of mine, so I think it might've worked out better this way.
My husband and I are opposites in many ways.
He lives for being on the water and I’m much happier on land.
On Friday nights he wants to curl up to a cozy war documentary when I just want a silly slapstick comedy.
He’s deliberate and precise in nearly everything he does, while I’m known to cross the street without looking (haven’t been hit yet 🤷♀️).
And he doesn’t drink coffee, which just makes me question everything.
It's day 4,532 of isolation due to Coronavirus and, no, I do not have too much time on my hands, thank you.
I feel like I've been locked up tight
For a century of sleepless nights
Waiting for someone to release me
They’re throwin’ their fits
And in my face all day
And right ‘bout now I wanna give ‘em away
Baby, baby, baby (Baby baby baby)
I'm not a very reactive person, at least not quickly. I tend to hang back, collect information, and take time to process before responding--especially in times of stress. So, here I am now, nearly three weeks into this new way of life--this new way of teaching--just now responding.
And my opinion probably won't be the popular one. But it's my truest one.
If we’re not returning May 1, the powers that be just need to declare the school year done. Over. No more virtual learning. Not because I'm a lazy employee. Not because I don't care about the education of our kids. But rather because I care--about our kids, our families, our teachers, and the integrity of what we're calling education
When did it become "mean" or "bad" to enforce rules, limits, boundaries, or consequences of any kind? When did setting restrictions become synonymous with lacking empathy?
I suppose some would say I'm pretty liberal when it comes to discipline with kids in the sense that I see misbehavior not as something to squash, but as a call for help--a plea for the adults in their life to dig deeper and give them the tools they need. They don't know what they don't know, so a child's behavior is the language they speak when they can't articulate their needs. I suppose this is true with adults, too. However, pain or ignorance is not a free pass--personal responsibility plays a role
I'm Krissy & I'm so thankful you're here. Being a woman, a wife, a mother--it's all rewarding but also tough. I hope this is a place you can go that feels like caffeine for the soul. Check out the categories below and, if you like what you read, subscribe to make sure you always have good Sunday morning reading to go with your coffee :)