Tag: love

Friday Photo: Words For My Daughter

Posted on November 30, 2012 by

“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.”
Arundhati Roy

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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Dear Family, Love J

Posted on November 23, 2012 by

Dear Family,
Last night, as we slumped around the table, bellies full and wine glasses empty, I took my turn and shared two words of gratitude.  Surprised, you asked if that was all.  The truth is, it wasn’t, but at the time, those were the only words I could say out loud.  Now, hours later in the light of day, I have the rest.
I am grateful for the dawn over the Sierras inching up, pale pink to my left, golden yellow to my right, unveiling my angels sleeping in the back seat.
I am grateful for the dark roast with cream warming next to me as I type, helping me greet every morning with a smile.
I am grateful for the new and the old, the memories that push me forward into the future and those that ground me in the past.
I am grateful for air conditioning, Bintang beer and chocolate-center Cotton Buns.  You saw me through some challenging times last summer.
I am grateful for friends I’ve made and lost, friends I’ve seen and those I have only thought of.  You may not know it, but I listen to you and learn more about myself from your presence.
I’m grateful for curiosity, challenge and conflict.  From them, I grow into a better human.
I’m grateful for brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, uncles and aunts, grandmothers and grandfathers.  Your eyes help create my vision, even when they don’t see in the same direction.
I’m grateful for simplicity, complication, and everything in between.  It always seems to come at just the wrong, yet just the right time.
I’m grateful for the 6,000,000-plus like-minded people who turned left, not right, and helped me see a future.
I’m grateful for the wind whistling through the trees.  Some say it’s the spirit talking.  I’m thankful I believe them.
I’m grateful for language.  The words I write, the sounds I hear, and the letters I read teach me in a way I learn best.
I’m grateful for faith, wavering in and out, back and forth, between the sky, the spirits, and the universe.  Sometimes, you’re all I’ve got.
I’m grateful for June 29, 1985.  Our worlds collided then, and life has been a doozy ever since.
Now, I’m back to where I began.  Two words.  Two spirits.  Two reasons to face each day, to walk the talk, to take a step forward when what I really want to do is stay right where I am.  Because when the pink glow is gone, replaced by a blaze of red, or orange, or a blanket of black, those two words are all that matter.
And that, dear family, is what I’m grateful for.
Love,
J

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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The Hardest Age

Posted on October 2, 2012 by

If you ask a parent of a newborn what’s the hardest age – babies or teens, I’d bet that they’d say babies.  I probably would have myself.  I couldn’t imagine anything more life changing than a colicky baby, screaming to be held, nursed, changed…you name it.
If you ask a parent of a toddler what’s the hardest age – toddlers or teens, they’d probably agree it was toddlers.  Who wouldn’t agree that parents chasing around tippy, bobble headed two- year-olds and temper-tantrum throwing three year olds would want to change places with parents of sixteen-year-olds any day.
But if you ask me, I’d say parenting at any age has its challenges and absolute head shaking, I can’t-believe-this-is-my-life moments.  I’m in one of those moments right now.
I am the parent of a sixteen-year-old licensed driver.
Somehow, I survived the torture of teaching her driving basics.  Upon close inspection, I’m sure you could see the fingernail imprints left in the passenger seat’s armrest.  Surely, I wore down the floor mats with my impulse-ridden imaginary braking.  I guess I did something right, because she passed her behind-the-wheel test on the first try.
Adding her to our auto insurance policy wasn’t even that bad-I suppose parents of teenage boys have it worse in that regard.  She took care of all of that herself, bought a new wallet to carefully display her new photo id, and even got a lanyard to responsibly clip her/our car keys onto.  She hardly begs to drive the three blocks to her high school, and still rides her bike to the gym.
What do I have to complain about?
Nighttime.  It terrifies me.  It’s my baby, driving in the dark, alone-or worse-with other teens.  It’s the parents who bow out of the pack and allow their teens to break the new law that forbids teens to drive their friends in the first year of their licensing.  It’s the “I’ll be home before 11:00 p.m.” speech.  Frankly, it’s every time I see her back out of the driveway and scrape the front end of our Prius against the sidewalk.  Sheer terror.
It’s not that I don’t trust her-she has never given me reason not to.  It’s not that I worry she’s going to get a ticket, drive drunk, or take off on a spontaneous road trip.
No, really what terrifies me about having a teenage driver is the same thing that made me lose sleep when she was a newborn, and collapse from exhaustion when she was three.  It’s that overwhelming, mind-numbing, head shaking, I-can’t-believe-this –is-my-life feeling.  It’s love.  All-consuming, overwhelming, turn-me-into-a-fierce-protector kind of love.  And watching her drive away breaks off a little bit of my heart every time.

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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Friday Photo: A Last Gasp of Summer

Posted on September 7, 2012 by

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.

http://www.dwellable.com/u/add_post/46

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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Friday Photo: Blooming

Posted on July 13, 2012 by

The day she was born a perfect peach lily bloomed in my garden.  I had been waiting for it, day after day checking the tight green buds for signs of an opening.  When it began to peek out, delicate petals with just a blush of color were unveiled, supported by a strong, slender stalk.  In the days that followed more and more buds awoke to the world.
For the next few years they grew together, each spring showing new promise.  Her limbs grew stronger, her courage to show her promise to the world bloomed with each passing season.  New talents and interests expanded her growth as a woman and urged her forward, sometimes clinging tightly to home, others pushing her forward into the unknown.

 

I searched for signs of that lily this year, hoping that baby blush would emerge once more. Five weeks of waiting, wishing, missing her, dreaming of what she would be like when she reappeared. Fleeting images of blue-eyed beauty flicker in my mind’s eye as I think of her as she used to be, preparing myself for what she has become. Tomorrow she will reappear, the tender blush will bloom again, a strong base supporting her into the next season of growth.

 

image courtesy of rosaflora.com

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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