Friday Photo: A Last Gasp of Summer

Posted on September 7, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

A quick bike ride down the lake led us to one of our favorite gazing spots. We parked and climbed out onto the rocks. The sun, rising quickly, warmed our faces and beckoned us with possibilities. The wind whistled through the pines, and the waves lapped gently against the granite. The hum of a boat radio drifted in the air, breaking the silence. We sat, transfixed with the the horizon. Crystal clear, icy cold water rippled and went still. My breathing slowed and my heart expanded. Gratitude for all we have had together, and all that is before us, led us back to our bikes, eager to go home.

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Jennifer Wolfe

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.

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When I Stop Talking

Posted on September 5, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

I’ve always been a pretty quiet person. I love the silence of the morning, the quiet only punctuated by the cawing of crows heading east towards the fields, the spurt of the coffee maker, and the rhythmic splat of the sprinkler as it sprinkles my garden before the sun comes up.

I love the quiet of reading books snuggled under a soft down comforter, the scratch of my pen on journal paper, and the hiss of the candle welcoming me into the daylight.

I never much enjoy talking on the phone, talking in groups or talking at parties. I think it’s odd that I chose a job where talking consumes so much of my day. I’ve been told that my teacher-talk is like a kindergarten teacher, explicitly outlining each step of a lesson and highlighting expectations. I explain that teaching middle school is just like teaching kindergarten. When I stop talking, they notice.

I enjoy talking with my children the most. The times when we’re driving in the car and they see something that reminds them of a story from school, or when I need to explain something very serious, or when we just giggle together are my absolute favorite. The way they talk as teens is so different from when they were little – in many ways, it seems like the stakes are much higher now. They need me to listen more now than ever. There is a shift going on – a time to carefully choose my words, softly encouraging them to listen.

When my children talk to me, they share little bits of their soul. Sometimes those bits are broken-off shards, sharp, piercing and painful. Other times they are soft, pillowy bits of fluff that slip from their mouth and bounce around the room.

Sometimes when they talk it is hard to hear them – especially when their words tumble out at warp speed, piling on top of each other like wooden blocks poised to crash to the ground. We stop, pause, and take our turns at being heard.

Their words matter to me. When I listen to their young voices I hear my hope for their future. I hear their curiosity about the world, and their questioning human morality. When I listen to their words I see their children speaking, years from now, asking for their wisdom. I hear their minds whirr as they process what they see and who they have heard. I hear myself in their words.

I know the quiet is coming soon. They will be gone, moving into their lives and exploring the world more quickly than I would like. They will use their voices to share, teach, and understand. They will deepen and stretch and take in so much more than I can imagine, more than I could ever tell them. I will hunger for those car rides and late night conversations when I had their attention, when I could teach them what I thought they should know. And when those days come, I will drop everything for their phone call, eager to hear their voice, desperate to listen for my words coming through their soul.

Jennifer Wolfe

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reading with mamawolfe: Her Fearful Symmetry

Posted on August 29, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be dead? Where your body goes? What can you see? Feel? Hear? Who can sense you after you’re gone?

I think the author of Her Fearful Symmetry must have been pondering these questions long before writing this novel.

Audrey Niffenegger tried hard to give her readers a glimpse into the afterlife. I loved the idea, but I didn’t love the book.

I wanted to. I really wanted to fall into the characters, get swept away into the charming settings, and be captured by the complexities of the plot. I can’t say it never happened, it just didn’t happen enough to help this book live up to the reputation built after Niffenegger’s first book, The Time Traveler’s Wife.

Her Fearful Symmetry begins interestingly enough with a death. Great way to capture attention, but the problem became that I didn’t really care that the character, Elspeth, had died. She didn’t intrigue me, and I couldn’t figure out how her supposedly grieving partner could shift so abruptly upon meeting the twins, Julia and Valentina. Actually, I didn’t fall for those characters too much either. The only one I remotely connected in was Martin, whose OCD behaviors were oddly realistic and charmingly endearing.

Setting the story in London should have come with ultimate possibilities to develop a sense of place, but instead the locations simply served as that – flat locations for her characters to move in and out of. Even the Gothic graveyard and Highgate Cemetery suffered from Niffenegger’s lack of detail, and instead of adding to the tone of the story they were cast aside. It surprised me to learn that she acted as a tour guide there while writing the book.

After the initial death, the plot developed slowly. While I will admit the middle of the story had me much more eager to keep reading, it quickly fell into the ‘what are you thinking’ category when dialogue surrounding an important character’s decision abruptly ended with a terrifyingly ignorant and unrealistic decision. And it went downhill from there. I kept reading, but felt like I was riding in a car that the driver kept speeding up and then slamming on the brakes. The ending was a disappointment – not because I need to have everything neat and tidy, but because the ending didn’t make me think. I didn’t even want to figure out the possibilities, I just wanted it to end.

Niffenegger’s theme of ‘be careful what you wish for’ makes me wish I had listened to my gut and ended the summer with a more engaging book. Although she is a skilled writer, Her Fearful Symmetry lacked the appeal I was hoping for.

Jennifer Wolfe

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Taking Time To Relax Along The Road Trip of Life

Posted on August 28, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

“Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop”

– Ovid, Roman Poet (43 BC – 17 AD)

What Ovid said thousands of years ago really rings true to me today. I have to think about, plan, and prepare for relaxation. It doesn’t just happen for me. It takes work, but it’s worth it.

When we stop to relax, we realign ourselves. Suddenly we aren’t the passengers in our life anymore – we are in control of the car. We get to decide where we want to go in life, and we create new openings for things to happen.

Think of your life right now as a road trip. Are you jumping on the highway, car loaded down with everything you think you might possibly need? Do you have reservations for each leg of the journey, each night and every waking moment?

And then you get a flat tire. Or an engine that just quits. Maybe even a fender bender.

And then what? Road trip disrupted. Detour.
It’s the start of the school year. For most parents, that is something to look forward to – life gets a bit easier when the kids are out of the house, we’re not twisting our brains to come up with an exciting adventure for the day, and the nagging of teenagers who would rather sleep in than do their chores is a thing of the past.

For teacher parents, though, it’s a double edged sword. We don’t get to enjoy quiet moments anymore – when the kids are home, we’re rushing back from our classrooms, trying to get a fabulous meal prepared while simultaneously driving kids to sports, walking the dog (who is the most excited family member to see you), switching laundry, unloading the dishwasher and answering emails. Exhausting.

The way to survive, I’ve learned, is to plan some fun. Sometimes it’s something easy – taking an evening walk with a good friend or sharing a cup of coffee downtown. Laughter and snacks with a good glass of Sonoma biodynamic wine gives me something to look forward to after a long day of teaching middle school; if I’m lucky, I’ll squeeze a weekend trip to Sonoma, Sutter Creek, or Santa Cruz, even. I’ve been thrown by that ‘lack of AAA Roadside Life Service’ way too many times. I’m a natural born planner, I live by a schedule, and spend most of my day following a lesson plan – I can even tell you what the plans are for the entire week ahead. But that’s only at school.

I’m back on the treadmill. It’s not a bad workout – I kind of like it, actually. As long as I can train myself to stop once in awhile, jump off, get into the driver’s seat, and take off. Take a rest. No plans, just looking for a friend, some fun, and a great glass of wine.