Tag: Tahoe

reading with mamawolfe: Wild by Cheryl Strayed

Posted on December 10, 2012 by

Like many avid readers, my bookshelf overflows with piles of ‘to-read’ or ‘in progress’ titles.  Being one who cannot part with a favorite, volumes of old friends mingle with the new, making for quite a commotion in space.  I peruse, sort, and even dust the titles carefully, always wishing for more time, for those moments when no one needs me and I can cuddle up with someone else’s thoughts for a little while.
It is rare that I finish reading multiple chapters of a book in one sitting, let alone the entire book in the course of a weekend.  Moms and teachers just don’t have that kind of time.
Recently I found a book that wouldn’t let me ignore it.  I’d heard about Wild, by Cheryl Strayed – everyone seemed to be talking about if after Oprah announced it as her first pick for her revised “Oprah Book Club 2.0” last year.  The problem for me, aside from a disconcerting lack of time for myself, was that I always bristle at the mainstream.  When something becomes a big seller, it makes me nervous.  Not because I think I’m somehow more “ivory tower” than anyone else is, but because I’m really, really choosy about how I spend my time.
So when I cracked the cover of Wild, I was ready to be unimpressed.  I was surprisingly disappointed – not in the writing, but that I could not put it down.
After the first few pages, I grabbed my writing notebook and began jotting down quotes.  Like this one on page 51: “Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I chose to tell myself a different story from the one women are told.”  Ok, Cheryl, you’re speaking to me now.  To the woman who kissed a Komodo dragon in Indonesia last summer.  To the one who is trying to write and hoping someone is listening.  To the mom of two teenagers.  I’m hooked.
Wild tells the autobiographical story of Cheryl’s early twenties, when her life had absolutely spiraled down into a place where many of us would simply give up.  From an unorthodox, meager childhood, to the early, tragic death of her mother, to a young marriage and eventually hitting rock-bottom abusing heroin, Cheryl’s story was not unbelievable.  I could feel the absolute plausibility of her words, seeing many women who could have easily fallen into the choices she made.
What I could not believe is her courage.  And independence.  And her somewhat reckless decision to hike the Pacific Crest trail, alone, without any experience.
But I admired her courage, her independence, and reckless decisions.  I felt connected to her.  I, myself, have hiked day trips on the Pacific Crest trail, but never would I have considered going all the way from the Mojave Desert to Oregon.  That takes some guts.  I understood how she made her decision, “how few choices (she) had, and how often (she) had to do the thing (she) least wanted to do.”  I’ve been there-as a mom, an educator, and a woman.  Sometimes, it seems like I’m there on a daily basis.
Cheryl’s journey reminded me of the power of the human spirit, the struggle so many of us go through to find ourselves, and the power of mind over body.  While some might mock her for her reckless unpreparedness, none could fault her for her determination.  When Cheryl could have simply escaped into the depths of an anonymous life, blaming everyone and everything for her problems, she instead set out.  “I asked for the shelter of my tent, for the smallest sense that something was shielding me from the entire rest of the world…”
Through her journey, she discovered the shelter of the world, the gifts that the universe has for those of us courageous enough to listen.  If you’re feeling overwhelmed, overworked, or out of time for yourself, please stop and crack open the cover of Wild.  You’ll be glad you did.

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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Ski mama

Posted on October 14, 2012 by

I’ve got about 35 days before my life changes dramatically. No, I’m not going to get a new job, a new house, or a new child. I’m not planning a great adventure, a big risk, or starting a new exercise program.

What I am is a ski mom, and despite only having a dusting of snow in the Sierras, my kids are aching to be back to the snow.

From November through April, I spend an extraordinary amount of time slugging around the mountains as my children test their fearlessness, hitting top speeds of 60+ mph. We drive in the dawn and dusk, spending all daytime hours on snow. Well, they are on snow. I’m mostly IN snow, lugging multiple pairs of skis, poles, gear, and bags and bags of food.

And this year, I just found out, I’ll be spending the first New Year’s Eve alone in almost 30 years – all because of skiing. Their skiing – I’m not included in this one. I’ll be home, alone, in the snow.

My family is crazy.

They come by it honestly. The ski fanaticism, that is.  Their paternal great-grandparents skied before there were proper ski lifts, ‘racing’ down on wooden skis and leather boots. I fondly remember weekends spent with my dad on the slopes, and my husband raced through college.  Putting our kids on skis at age three seemed a no-brainer.  It turned out to be the perfect sport for them when they were young, and a great family activity. Then enter racing, ski camps, dry-land practices and coaching jobs. My family is obsessed with skiing.

Many people think I’m the one that’s crazy – why don’t I just send them on their way, and enjoy quiet times at home, or holed up in a cabin with a blanket or a good book, or at the very least, in a ski lodge with a good bar. I guess my answer is the same one that you might hear from a soccer mom, a baseball mama, or any other parent who travels around in the shadow of their athletic children.

I secretly enjoy it.

I love knowing that my kids are busy all day, every day, every weekend. They go to bed early and wake up early, keeping them out of ‘trouble’. They eat well, exercise, and get plenty of fresh air. We play card games, watch movies, and cook together every night.  They have great ski friends, push themselves to do their best, and simply just have a lot of fun.

Isn’t that really what parenting is all about? These years are fleeting, and I feel the clock ticking down. Someday I just know I’ll wake up at 4 a.m. and wish I had one more drive up the hill, one more snowstorm to slosh through with them in the back seat, one more race finish to cheer them on.

So come next December 31, maybe I’ll find a great book, pop a bottle of bubbly, and toast how wonderful it is to be a mom. Honestly, I can’t think of anything better.

What crazy things do you do for your kids? What keeps you going in those moments of insanity?

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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