Dear Granger...

Hey Granger.

It’s your mom, Liz, but you can just call me “mom.” I will also respond to Mommy or really loud sudden screaming. We’re so glad you’re here. I’m a believer in honesty and full discloser. So, as you enter your new residence, I thought I’d give you a heads up on how to survive around here.

-You will probably always be called a “Christmas baby.” I’m sorry about this. We tried to plan it out better, but we’re just so fertile. Don’t worry about what that means. Even though you’re born around Christmas, you’re still your own person with your own birthday.

-You will appreciate good music. We probably won’t play many lullabies, and I’m sorry if your baby friends listen to music you don’t know. The plus side is you’ll have killer dance moves and grow up appreciating the finer tunes in life.

-We live on a busy corner. We like this, because we get to walk to the park and watch cars from the window on rainy and snowy mornings. However, we don’t play in the front yard. Please don’t sneak out the front door.

-We have hardwood floors. So, when you’re spinning, running, and dancing, be careful. The next thing you know, you’ll be on your butt. We suggest a barefoot way of life to help with this.

-We will never have a dog. Period. However, you can probably pull your dad’s leg into getting a cat. I know, it’s weird.

-We believe in community, and this is an intricate part of who we are. The door is always open for people. Our home is a safe place for people, and we won’t allow anyone in it that disrupts that safety and trust. We love people where they are and we take this seriously. Your friends will receive the same hospitality, and we hope to instill the richness of community in you as well.

-We are Jesus followers. We are constantly trying to figure out what that means. You will grow up knowing Jesus is love. We don't have all the answers and don't know if there were dinosaurs in Bethlehem. However, we will spend our lives seeking and searching for God's will for us. We will teach you and your brother to do the same.

-Your brother is a hambone. He is loud, silly, and likes attention from anyone. There will be times when he will injure you, both intentionally and unintentionally. He will also make you wear hats, eat things that shouldn’t be eaten, and get in trouble with him. I’m already sorry about this. He loves you very much, and he will be your best friend.

-I’m a teacher. I want you to learn, explore, and value your education. I will teach you letters in the bathtub and read Goodnight Moon as many times as it takes until you have each page memorized. I believe you are smart and can do anything you want. I will expect you to work hard at school, and I will be involved in your education at the highest level.

-Your dad is an artist. He builds, creates, and works hard for our family. He can do anything, except put his hands in creams and lotions. You will learn to adore him, like your brother and I already do. Sometimes he sleeps hard and doesn’t hear you crying, but don’t hold it against him. He will throw you, tickle you, balance you, and teach you how to do all the things that he can. You will go to preschool knowing these things and how they’re used: a drill, compressor, lens, cabinet, saw, and screwdriver. Embrace this knowledge. Not only will you have a “toolbox” of skills, but you’ll use these skills to woo your woman.

-We are a family who loves and accepts you as you are. You didn’t choose us, but we choose you every single day. There’s nothing you can do that will change this. There will be times when we mess up, aren’t there, or have to learn something the hard way. However, we are still a family and the grace of God will cover us in these times.

So, Granger, take your shoes off and stay awhile. This is your family and this is your home.

2007

I wrote this in 2007. I'm so glad I changed my mind.

Saturday, April 07, 2007
marriage. I think I've come to believe that it isn't worth the risk.

Dear Future Students

It's the beginning of the school year soon, and there are several mixed emotions. My team is changing quite a bit, and there was some real disappointment with that. Fear, anxiety, and selfishness began to settle in when I heard of the big changes. At the same time, there was hope that things could become something greater than they had been in the past.

My classroom was not a safe, happy, or enjoyable place for me last year. I worked hard to make it these things for my kids, but I left more days than not defeated, exhausted, and in tears. There were many contributing factors, and God brought me through the storm. But at the end of the storm, I was ready to throw in the towel. This is painful to say, because I believe I am a fabulous teacher that believes that children can succeed no matter the ability level, income, race, or language barrier. I believe I was made to do what I do every day. But Satan was at work last year.

As the summer ends, there's this growing knot in my stomach as I await this year. What kind of year will it be. The past few weeks have given me an unbelievable peace about what is to come.

I feel like God has carefully moved each piece into place, and I'm in awe of how his plan is always far greater than what I thought would be best. I came across this online, and I can't seem to move past the power of these words. This is my prayer for this year.

Lord,
Let me be just what they need.

If they need someone to trust, let me be trustworthy. If they need sympathy, let me sympathize. If they need love, and they do need love, let me love, in full measure.

Let me not anger easily, Lord, but let me be just. Permit my justice to be tempered in your mercy.

When I stand before them, Lord, let me look strong and good and honest and loving. And let me be as strong and good and honest and loving as I look to them.

Help me to counsel the anxious, crack the covering of the shy, temper the rambunctious with a gentle attitude.

Permit me to teach only the truth. Help me to inspire them so that learning will not cease at the classroom door.

Let the lessons they learn make their lives fruitful and happy. And, Lord, let me bring them to you. Teach them through me to love you.

Finally, permit me to learn the lessons they teach.

Amen.



Dear future nine and ten-year-olds that are assigned to Mrs. Knowles in room 206,

When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.
Ephesians 3:14-19

You are loved,
Mrs. Knowles

10 Things I've Learned Through Motherhood

Well my little baby turned 1 today. I wonder if there will every be a time when he's not my little baby. I've thought about writing a blog several times about Fin and his first year, but I always dismissed it.

As I tell Will, "I love Fin so much that it makes my heart bones hurt."

You know that feeling when you are so overcome with emotion that it just hurts. That's how I feel about him all the time, and the idea of writing about how wonderful and crazy this journey has been has felt daunting. But I'll give it a whirl from a safe distance.

Here are 10 things I've learned this year from motherhood.

1. While Dr. Brown's bottles are best for preventing gas in your little one, they're a butt to clean.


2. Video monitors are great, but the static almost makes them not worth it. Old school walkie talkies may be the best route.


3. There's a reason why people talk high-pitched to babies. They prefer it. I can tell knee-slapping jokes all day, and nothing. I can dance and make funny faces, and nothing. But the second that I say in an annoying high-pitched tone "de de de," my child is rolling on the ground laughing. So then you decide it's worth it to look like an idiot for the trade of a little giggly squeal.



4. There's a secret mom's club. You don't have to apply or sign up, you just instantly join when that screaming thing comes out of you. It's a cool club. When your child is throwing a fit, because he's decided he doesn't want to ride in the cart, another mom club member looks over and gives a forgiving smile. Because she too, has been there. And as apart of the mom club, I can smile at little babies and talk mom stuff (formula, clothes, diapers, carseats, etc.) because that's what mom club members do. I can also beam and smile at another mom club member as she swoons over my own perfectly-beautiful son.


5. I'll never have my sexy body back. I can run, diet, exercise, and do Jillian Michaels every day. But I'll never be a size six again. My stomach will never be flat. My abs will never be defined. And I'll never slide into a slinky dress to show off my hour glass figure at a dinner party. But I can choose to accept my body and dress it appropriately. For goodness sakes, I carried a human for nine months. I'd say it was worth the pay off.


6. My house is no longer my own. I can't leave crap out, because my child will eat it. I can't put cute knick-knacks on the book shelf, because my child will break them. I can't leave the mac plugged in, because my child will knaw on the cords. I can't wait to take out the trash, because my child will knock it all over.


7. God has to be the center of our house. Church is no longer about me, if I like the worship, if there are people my age, or if they believe in this or that. It is now about what's best for my family. Where will we best serve? Are there friends Fin can make and grow with? Are they teaching the gospel of a loving God? Can we invest in community as a family? Never before have I been as challenged to find God as I am now.


8. You really learn who your friends are. Everyone comes to the hospital. Everyone gives you gifts. But not everyone loves him as hard as we do. There is nothing more meaningful than seeing your friends invest in your child by changing, feeding, playing, dancing, laughing, holding, and simply loving. Not because they are required. Not because they are asked to. But because they want to play in intricate part of his life. It really does take a village.


9. My husband is an incredible dad. Every bride says, "And he's so good with kids." But it's different when there's poop up the newborn's back, I forgot to pack a bottle, and you're so tired that you can't even think straight. But being a stellar dad is the sexiest thing about my husband. It truly makes me swoon.


10. There are different kinds of love. Fin Knowles has instilled in me a love that is so raw, strong, and irrevocable. I have been tired, exhausted, angry, frustrated, selfish, embarrassed, and still, there is never a time when my love for him is not overwhelming, for even myself. It's so encompassing, that my heart bones just hurt.

Lost

I'm lost. I've lost the map. I've lost myself. I'm trying to find my location. I'm trying to find where to go from here. I'm trying to find myself again.

The Hours of TCAP

Hours of preparation. Hours of work. Hours of collaboration. Hours of worry. Hours of stress. Hours of being told I wasn't doing the right thing. Hours of feeling like I failed before I even started. Hours of feeling like I was alone. Hours of wishing I could inspire instead of teach A, B, C, and D. Hours of analyzing data. Hours of asking myself,"How can I be better?" Hours of telling my kids they mean more to me than scores. Hours of lying in bed wondering if I'm a good teacher or simply ignorant to the fact that I should've picked something different. Hours of wondering if my administration believes in me. Hours of trying to leave work at school but feeling guilty for not bringing it home.

And I kept working. I kept doing my best. While I felt hopeless sometimes, I gave it all I had.

Hours of testing. Hours of checking roster after roster. Hours of sharpening #2 pencils. Hours of directions. Hours of bubbling in little circles. Hours of praying. Hours of hoping. Hours of believing. Hours of doubting. Hours of waiting. Hours of no scores.

And then the scores came back.

And all those hours turned into proficient and advanced.

And I knew my hours were spent in the right place.

Fin's seven month details

Well...my baby just turned seven months. For those of you who are tired of me talking about Fin, feel free to close the window out now. I'm not offended.

Things he likes at seven months.
-"dancing"
-his Bumbo seat
-wrestling with Dad
-balancing on Dad's hand
-Baby Einstein
-Sophie the giraffe
-sitting in between cushions of the couch and playing
-grabbing anything in his reach
-drinking water from a cup
-not wearing clothes
-laying on the changing table
-saying "booty" really fast.

Things he doesn't like at seven months
-ear infections
-long trips in the car
-going to bed when he's not tired
-putting on pants
-being cold after baths
-old women's faces