Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.
“As the nest empties, parents can alleviate the sadness by rediscovering themselves and honoring the strides their children have made.” – Madisyn Taylor, Daily Om
I’ve been sitting on these thoughts for a year now. This post has been in draft mode since last July, as the idea of the nest emptying first began to overtake me. Well, not really. Every parent knows it’s coming, and as much as we think we dread it, or anticipate it, it happens.
That’s just the way life goes when you have children – hopefully.
As the nest empties, holding on too tightly doesn’t work. Actually, the kids themselves are the ones who pull back so forcefully and completely that I had no choice- to let go of the looser strings that were connecting me to their childhood, and trust that the tighter rope, the one of connection and love and trust, would be the one keeping us together. All the way to Boston and Utah, I’ve been trusting on the strength of that rope, woven over decades of trial and error, laughter and tears, hopes and disappointment. I’ve been counting on the ties that will tether us when there’s nothing left but an empty space.
When I first started this blog in 2011, I knew it would be called mamawolfe. I knew it would be part of my journey, a way to remind myself of what’s important – not just as a documentation of memories from parenthood, but also a start of regaining a part of myself I lost. Or maybe a part I never allowed myself to find. As the nest empties, I’m wondering if I’m really finding myself – or if a new me is just beginning to unfurl.
Parenting hasn’t been an easy journey for me. I doubt my decisions, I search for the handbookthat’s telling me which way to go. I wondered how ‘Jenny’ would survive all this change and uncertainty and lack of control. Parenting became the one thing I wanted to do right; I didn’t want to look back 18 years later and wish I had made different decisions. Oh yes, I now know that those wishes would always be there – that’s part of growing older and wiser and knowing better, and doing better. But the regret – I couldn’t live with that. Or the guilt of putting other things over this incredible challenge of giving my best to these two tiny, fascinating, challenging little humans. They became part of me because I wanted so desperately to let them know they were loved and safe and that there was a person in this world who put them first. So isn’t it natural that now that they’re gone, that I feel like I’m losing part of myself? That something is missing when I walk down the hall, unable to step into their empty bedrooms without feeling that something is gone?
A new hummingbird feeder hangs just outside Lily and Cameron’s bedroom windows, nestled among the anemones and dahlias, just in view of my morning reading space. I’m waiting, hoping, imaging new little hummingbirds discovering the sweet nectar inside. I’m hoping that the salvia and butterfly bushes in bloom will attract them to my space, delighting me with their gentle, yet fleeting, appearance.
After two months, it has finally happened. Not one, but two creatures discovered the feeder. They dart between the flowers and the feeder, taking what they need and then flying away. I watch them every morning, smiling as they take what they need and fly away. One day we came face to face, and I froze, eyes connected, barely breathing. The significance of their visit isn’t lost on me – I know it will be cooler soon, and they’ll find somewhere else to make their nest. The blooms will fade, leaving only the artificial red flowers to beckon them back. But it will be there if they need it; I won’t take it down. I want them to remember me, and this space, and know that they have a safe spot to land. I’ll be here, waiting, tending, growing.
Change is hard. I like safe, consistent spaces. Surprises make me squirm, and routines find their way into my life every year. For teacher moms, September is the new January.
Slight changes are manageable. Flexibility is a learned skill, I’m discovering. I’m meditating daily, forcing myself to be present right here, right now, with the breath and the ground and all the beauty that is in my safe space. I know in a few days school will start again, I’ll get caught up in teaching and planning and celebrating. His bedroom door will close while I’m away at school, he’ll take his bags and his backpack and his big, huge heart and head back east. He’ll be smiling, anticipating the familiarity of a second year in college and the freedom of looking forward to new experiences. He’ll leave his bed unmade, the laundry basket half-full and shoes on the floor. He doesn’t need everything to go with him just yet. Leaving a little bit behind is OK with me. I’ll still be here waiting, tending, growing.
He’ll take a huge part of my heart with him, too. There’s no doubt that the strings will loosen as the rope tightens, that the man he’s becoming will pull back a bit – or a lot. I’m ready, I guess. I’ll plant my self, grounded in the relationships we’ve created and those yet to come. And I’ll watch for the hummingbirds – maybe they’ll leave a feather behind before winter comes, too.
Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.
I spend a great deal of time online – professionally more than personally. As my children grow up and away from home, it’s not my place to post photos of what’s going on in their life. The empty nest does that. It’s ok – just because I’m spending less time on the ‘social’ part of social networking doesn’t mean I’m not finding value in my interactions. I’ve created a spectacular PLN of thinkers, educators, creators, and do-ers online, specifically based on Twitter interactions.
I stay away from toxic Twitter accounts. I ‘THINK before I POST’. I try to share my joy in thinking deeply, loving fiercely and teaching audaciously and enjoy the interactions I have. I’ve tried to convince my non-Twitter educator friends and acquaintances to jump in, but many are afraid to, or reluctant to, or just haven’t seen the value of virtual collaboration – YET.
Ten years of tweets…so I decided to bring a taste of Twitter to YOU! Consider this like a sampler platter, or an appetizer. You’ll see through my lens, and hopefully, we’ll have a dialogue here (or online) and collaborate to share our loves for teaching, learning, writing, and parenting.
So let’s have some fun and share some joy – below I’m adding some of my most favorite, recent tweets to think about – I’d love to hear your voice, too!
On loving fiercely:
On teaching audaciously:
On thinking deeply:
A ‘Taste of Twitter’ Wrap up
I hope you enjoyed this quick “taste of Twitter” – please join me on Twitter @mamawolfeto2, or my second favorite social platform, Instagram @mamawolfeto2. If you’re already on Twitter, leave your handle in the comments so we can grow together. Let’s share some joy about thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously!
Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.
I’ve had some good reads in March, April and May – books that have made me think, act, disappear and relax. I’ve had a few that kept me up too late at night, and some that I couldn’t wait to dive into when I got home from teaching in the afternoons.
I’m up from 13 books in my January/February post, to 28 by the beginning of June. You can check out that good reads list here. And I’ve got a HUGE pile to be read over my summer – here are a few of the good reads I loved in the last three months!
Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.
This year has been hard, and I’m end-of-the-year-teacher-tired. I’m absolutely on my last nerve – not with my students, though. Actually, they’re the brightest part of my day. I soak in their smiles, their hugs, their laughter and desire to please. It’s about teaching teens about mental health.
I teach middle school. 7th – 8th – 9th grade. And they’re struggling.
Now, they’re not without their moments – especially the 8th graders. They’re the big questioners, the ones who wonder ‘why’ and ‘how come we have to do this’ and ‘ does this really matter’.
My 9th graders are just ready to move on. The run in the classroom completely oblivious to much besides themselves, their friends, and the latest ‘T”.
But my 7th graders….aah, they’re just special. This is my first year back in 7th grade since 2001, and I’m loving it. Every moment they try something new, agree to take a risk, jump into a discussion about a book or a topic or debate about global warming or plastics in the ocean or gun control or why animals should be rescued just makes me smile.
But they’re a whole lot of energy. Like herding puppies, in a way.
The hard parts of teaching mental health
This year there have been too many ‘not-so-happy’ times, too. I’ve seen more kids breaking down over struggles – not just with academics, but with relationships. Parents. Expectations. Friends.
My AVID 9 students learned about Mental Health issues and how to overcome the stigma associated with asking for support with this Mental Health hyperdoc lesson. I wish I knew the original creator, so I could thank them for helping me help kids with mental health. Please make a copy and use it in your classroom, or with your own kids at home. It’s powerful.
I’ve had too many 12, 13, and 14 year-olds run through my door in tears about what happens ‘outside’. I’m finding myself giving lots of hugs, wiping gallons of tears and going through bottles of lavender oil (it reduces stress, you know!). Mostly, I’ve been reminding them that despite what’s happening, they are strong. Stronger than they know…stronger than whatever force is trying to tell them that they’re not.
It’s hard for kids to trust in that, you know? The world seems like a pretty frightening place right now. I’ve got kids who are worried about deportation. Divorce. Sex. Gender confusion. Homosexuality. Learning Disorders. Substance Abuse.
Oh yeah – and remember, they are 12-14 years old. And we have 1.5 counselors on our campus. And I’m tired. And I’m searching for messages to give them that will mean something, especially over the summer when they don’t have the stability of a safe place at school.
Amy says, “The only person you should compare yourself to is the person that you were yesterday.” I TRY to remind
my students of this, but it’s hard. They’re constantly checking grades and evaluating their success based on a percentage. And navigating teachers with assinine rules about ‘no test retakes’ and no ‘do-overs’ and all the things that work precisely against the type of growth mindset we know helps create strong mental health.
She reminds us that “unhealthy beliefs about the world come about because deep down, we want the world to be fair. We want to think that if we put in enough good deeds, enough good things will happen to us.” I have to remind kids that the world isn’t fair – that equality and equity aren’t the same things, and that in school, they often have little control of how their actions can make a difference because someone else is creating the rules. At 12, kids have a hard time believing this. Often, they aren’t cognitively developed enough to understand this, and even when we tell them to ‘work hard’ and ‘do your best’ it’s not always going to turn out the way they expect.
So what’s next?
Instead, I’m going to remind them of Amy’s definition of mental strength:
“Mental strength is a lot like physical strength. If you wanted to be physically strong, you’d need to go to the gym and lift weights. But if you really wanted to see results, you’d also have to give up eating junk food. Mental strength is the same. If you want to be mentally strong, you need good habits like practicing gratitude. But you also have to give up bad habits, like resenting somebody else’s success.No matter how often that happens, it will hold you back.” – AmyMorinLCSW.com
And I’m going to add her book 13 Things Mentally Strong People Don’t Do, to my classroom bookshelf.
Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.