Tag: Parenting

Starting Now…

Posted on January 7, 2013 by Jennifer Wolfe

I’m starting now as if I haven’t already been up for hours…

as if I haven’t made the coffee and the bright red tea kettle hadn’t whistled for your pomegranate green tea…

as if I haven’t cooked the peppered bacon, veggie omelet with mushrooms, onion and crunchy green bell pepper, held together with gooey cheddar cheese…

as if I haven’t sliced the juicy melon or packed the food for your skiing lunch break…

as if I haven’t folded last night’s final load of laundry, and the washer wasn’t humming with today’s first…

as if I haven’t carefully packed your ski boot bag with dry gloves and hand warmers…

as if I haven’t re-positioned the blankets on our bed…

as if I haven’t received an unexpectedly long good morning hug and comforted you when your legs felt like jello and you’re not sure you can make it out the door in the dark, frosty air…

as if I haven’t already had three cups of that coffee with cream and cleared the dishes from the breakfast table…

I’m starting now as if today was all about me…

and grateful that it isn’t.

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.

More Posts - Website

Follow Me:

You Never Know What You Might Be Missing

Posted on January 3, 2013 by Jennifer Wolfe

I really didn’t want to walk out the door this morning. Not because I was snuggled in bed. Not because it was too early.

I was nervous about driving in the snow.

A few days ago I had a wheel spinning incident. It was nothing serious, but serious enough to make me second guess the ability of the mighty Prius to make it up the icy road in the dark. At 6:30 am.

One good thing about having kids, though, is that they don’t let you off the hook. We needed to get to ski training, and Cam didn’t want to be late.

How can you argue with a teenager who doesn’t want to be late to 7 am ski training? Even when he knows it’s -4 degrees outside?

He was right. That’s hard to say about your teen sometimes, but this time he was.

The Prius, in all its glory, delivered us up the hill on time. And this is what awaited me:

Notice how there are no other people out there? That’s because it was FREEZING! And dark! And early!

Just as I turned to go in, I saw this:

And this – one of those little dots at the bottom is my son, waiting for the chairlift:

And as I stood, mesmerized, the chill didn’t bother me anymore. I couldn’t believe the beauty:

Slowly, the sun brushed the slopes with light. We welcomed a new day together.

And once again, I was very glad I walked through the door this morning. You never know what you might be missing.

Like this:

He makes it all worthwhile.

Thanks, Cam.

Talmont on Dwellable

Jennifer Wolfe

More Posts - Website

Follow Me:

Always in Season

Posted on December 31, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

I always have a bit of a holiday let down. December is a big month for me: the start of ski season, my birthday, and of course, Christmas. Add in teaching junior high during this month full of expectation, and by the time Dec. 31 rolls around, I’m done.

In other words, I’m not a big New Year’s Eve fan.

I think the last time I actually went to a big New Year’s Eve party was in 1995 when I was pregnant with my first child.

I remember the millenium, taking down the Christmas decorations while the news blasted from my 9-inch black and white tv. I remember it well. Then, I had a three-year-old daughter AND a three-month old son. Fun times.

Needless to say, this New Year’s Eve I don’t anticipate much action, other than dinner with my now thirteen-year-old son, some quiet reflection time, maybe a cold beer, and, of course, some writing.

What I’ve also learned this year is that if I flip the holidays around, they don’t have to bring me down. In fact, I’ve learned that a few things about the holidays never go out of season, they instead are cultivated all year long:

Holiday Spirit

This year we simplified the holidays. We cut back to the most important and meaningful traditions, and enjoyed the spirit behind the season. My daughter noted that there wasn’t a day when we didn’t have holiday music playing in the background. We didn’t miss a chance to sing along with “Feliz Navidad” or Taylor Swift’s “Sounds of the Season”. I learned that holiday spirit alive doesn’t mean leaving up the Christmas tree until spring; rather, embracing the simple, the fun, and the merry all year long is the route to happiness.

Getting Back to Roots

As a parent, I feel obligated to put my children first. Always. The holiday season cements these feelings – isn’t Christmas ‘for the kids’ anyways? No, I don’t consider myself a martyr, but rather, I see parenting as a huge commitment. And in order to do it ‘right’, I need to take it seriously. However, in 2012, I realized that I can take myself seriously, too. I’ve wanted to write professionally since I can remember. I studied English during college, and once I graduated, my writing stayed hidden inside journals. This year I learned that getting back to my roots meant taking a chance and being vulnerable. Last year, writing brought passion back to my life, along with courage, happiness, sadness, and stories, too.

Generosity

This year I adored watching my children plan and purchase their gifts for others. With the innocence of children, they worked hard to find just the right gift for just the right person. Listening to them exclaim that they ‘cannot wait for me to open it’ made my heart beam. And despite all the tragedy of Sandy Hook, we learned that we can pay it forward. As my son and I participated in #26Acts, he declared it ‘awesome-just like a treasure hunt’ except in reverse. We didn’t finish all 26 by Christmas, but that’s more than ok; as we give freely in 2013, we hope others will be inspired to freely give.

Good Friends

I actually didn’t attend one holiday party this year. I prefer to keep it quiet, keep it simple, and keep it at home. So much of our lives is spent out in public that for me, the holiday season is a perfect time to spend with family. That’s not to say that good friends aren’t part of our equation, but simply, in a different, more personal way. I still send Christmas cards, and rejoice with each envelope that comes through our mailbox. In 2012 my list of friends grew in ways I could never have predicted; I met teachers from all over the country, new friends in Indonesia, and grew to know writers online from around the world. Good friends aren’t just honored during the holidays, they are nurtured all year long.

So I wish you all a happy and healthy 2013, the comfort of family and friends, and the courage to do what you never thought you could.

I’ll drink to that!

Jennifer Wolfe

More Posts - Website

Follow Me:

Parenting Athletes: How I Do It

Posted on March 2, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe

Parenting athletes requires particular obligations-some sport specific, some general to having athletic kids living in the house. Until they move out, we are responsible for keeping track of practices, purchasing equipment and locating lost parts of uniforms.

We calendar games, attend training clinics and volunteer to work in snack shacks or host end of the season banquets. We learn how to run a scoreboard, rake a field and wax skis.

Parents write the checks for tuitions and races, replace cleats on what seems like a monthly basis, and stock the pantry with excessive amounts of food to feed their famished bellies. We know the value of having duffel bags for each sport, and invest in sturdy folding chairs, seat cushions and endless tubes of SPF 45 sunscreen.

Parenting athletes means we wash mouth guards and uniforms, and know the value of Oxi Clean to make grass stains disappear. We wait in cars and on benches for practices to end, and we trudge through heat, wind, rain, and snow to show our supportive faces.

People always ask me how I do it. Why do I drive 125 hours each way, every weekend, to transport my children to a ski hill in the wee hours of the morning. My answer? I just do. Everyone has a busy life. Everyone has places to go, people to see, things to do, jobs to work. And I don’t sleep much.

When your kids have a passion for something, parents make it work. It’s what we do. Our payment is the smile on their faces as they finish a race course, the laugh that erupts as they play with friends in the snow, and the comfort of knowing exactly where they are every weekend night-asleep early in their beds to prepare for the next morning’s 7:00 a.m. training runs.

That’s how I do it. And the why? The photo my daughter texted I received from my daughter last weekend at 7:15 a.m. from the top of Squaw Valley says it all.

She knows a good thing when she sees it. Me, too.

Jennifer Wolfe

More Posts - Website

Follow Me:

I Remember Sleep

Posted on September 28, 2011 by Jennifer Wolfe

I remember when I used to sleep. It was really a wonderful time. I would actually sleep until my body woke me up, not the alarm. Not a child screaming from a nightmare, nor sleepwalking down the hall. Not the ding of an incoming text nor the toot of car horns outside my window. I could sleep through our barking dog, blaring sirens, and our screeching burglar alarm.

I remember slipping softly into crisp high thread count sheets on my soft, pillow top mattress. I remember the feeling of the cool breeze floating down on my face from the window open just above me. Sleep came easily, quickly, silently, lasting 10, 11, sometimes 12 hours. Bliss.

I remember sleep. She would come almost anywhere-on a boat, in a plane, on the floor of the train station, on a bench, or in a car. She didn’t need just the right place, nor any special stuff. Upright, laid out, or curled up she descended.

I remember waking up peacefully to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the chirping of sparrows in my garden. I remember the swoosh of the sprinklers soaking my lawn. Not an alarm, not the thud of footsteps down the hall, nor the thwack of the newspaper hitting my front door.

I remember sleep. I used to think maybe I slept too much, that I was ‘wasting the day’. What I know now was that I was storing up, notching the hours for the deprivation yet to come. Not dozens, not tens, but hours that can be counted on one hand each night.

I remember sleep. Maybe someday she will return.

Jennifer Wolfe

More Posts - Website

Follow Me: