Expectations

We had the treat of attending an incredible night of music and speakers at the third annual Notes & Words event last night.  Each year this event brings together authors and musicians to benefit the amazing Children’s Hospital of Oakland, —this year’s show included CAKE, Michael Chabon, John Hodgman, Anne Lamott, Kelly Corrigan.  Kelly Corrigan is one of my favorites and if you haven’t seen this video yet, grab your Kleenex and hop to it.  So many wonderful pieces read and songs sung.  It was truly a perfect combination.

Michael Chabon introduced Anne Lamott and shared four quotes from the MANY one could have offered.  The one at the top, about expectations, hit me the hardest and got me thinking.  As Michael said, it’s one of those quotes that you have to let sit for a minute to really process and take in.

Expectations.  Yes…expectations and so so tricky.  Without expectations, I find that my students and my own children won’t perform up to the level I know they are capable of.  If we don’t push and encourage and prod and create visions, those we work with might settle for “less than” or mediocrity.  Sometimes “the middle place” is a good thing.  I pushed myself way too hard in high school, ending up with an ulcer, attempting to perfect my resume and transcript.  My parents, high school teachers themselves, often pushed me to lower my expectations.

Anne’s quote, though, “Expectations are resentments under construction”, rings true.  When we hold onto a hope for something, anything “out there” in the future, it can often lead us to despair, depression and yes, resentment when things don’t pan out as planned.  Entering into marriage eight years ago and into motherhood almost five years ago has given WAY too many opportunities to list of times when unmet expectations led to resentment.  It’s par for the course, I guess.

Expectations, like anything, have to be born in balance with reality.  This week, I decided to spring a little plan on my students.  We have the ***DREADED*** standardized STAR test coming up in a week.  I thought it would be fun for them to get a little encouragement as they enter into the process.  A reminder that their worth in wrapped up in so much more than a grade on the exam or their performance.  Yet balancing that truth with knowledge that they can do well.  They can push themselves.  And that they can push to do better than they dream possible.

So the STAR Buddy Project was born.  The kids set about writing their letters to their “yet unknown to them” buddies.  I enclosed a picture I took of them back in December, and we sent them off on Friday.  They sat and wrote and wrote and wrote on Friday.  Most wrote 1-2 pages.  This accomplishment felt miraculous.  I told them I was teary eyed over their focus and hard work.  One quipped, “MRS. GOUGH, are you going to CRY!?!?”   No doubt, yes, as any former student or summer staffer can attest to.  I’m a sappy crier.

Again, I attempted to set the expectations high for them.  And they truly rose to the occasion.  Now, the STAR buddies out there (many of which, are YOU guys!!) are receiving their letters and writing back.  I already have two in hand.  One of my friend’s freshman class of college and career readiness students is writing to my class.  Another friend who teaches kids locally has a surprise up her sleeve that’s coming as encouragement.  I can’t wait to start unleashing things, Oprah style.

I don’t want to set myself or my students up for resentment.  We are, on paper, an underperforming school.  We are in program improvement.  There is a lot of pressure to work hard and help the kids show what they can do.  We saw our kids’ multiplication automaticity scores go from 13% to 89% this year.  That took hard work.  Constant practice.  But they did it.

So I keep sitting on the fence on this issue.  Keeping the expectations realistic.  And not sinking into resentment.  These two of our own give a perfect training ground to test and try these theories of expectations.  The more and more I observe and watch them, though, I realize that my expectations are usually blown out of the water…..on both ends of the expectation scale.  They often severely disappoint and many times, surprise and amaze.

I often feel like we are called to be set designers.  To set the scene.  Create the backdrop.  Perfect the setting so that the actors in our midst can be free to shine and grow and take the stage.  And be waiting in the wings to offer grace when the performance doesn’t go as planned.

Second Chair

Yesterday I was able to take a moment and breathe during the service at church.   Dr. Valerie Sterk, Sunnyvale Presbyterian’s organist, is beyond phenomenal.  I’ve told Matt what I want for Christmas….Valerie playing me to sleep each night.  Live.  I’m sure he’s wrapping up that present as we speak.  Each month when we take communion, Valerie plays a stream of beauty on the piano.  Hymns, but with new arrangements.  One of my favorites, Be Thou My Vision (#303 in the old Presbyterian hymnal….yes, I’m a dork and still remember memorizing it!), was so distinctly played.  It unfolded over me like smooth, calming water.

It brought me back to piano lessons.  I started early on and despite deep, internal fears, made it through recitals and practicing into my high school years.  It was a love/hate relationship, but I now know, twenty years later, the many benefits that that discipline had.  I have always dabbled in many different pursuits, not being one to go too deep.  Maybe an unconscious fear of failure?  Or maybe just my nature and personality to want to try out lots of possibilities?  Either way, my foundation in piano paved the way for guitar, handbells, clarinet, choir and singing and a love for music.

 Yes, the guitar pic with my dear friend, Becky, even made our senior pictures!  CHEEEEEEEEEEEZY.

Dance wove its wave into my weekly life too {notice I didn’t say “daily life”…I wasn’t THAT committed!}.  I did ballet for many years, as well as Scottish Highland dancing.

My stint in ’85 as a tree for the end-of-the-year production…

Before a competition for Scottish Dancing in 1983 with my friend, Laurie Gilfeather.

{yes, I know, cute perm, huh?}

For me, both of these arenas, music and dance, and later student government and leadership in high school, were a total mishmash of emotions.  Each featured opportunities for frustration.  For embarrassment.  For exhaustion.  For sore lips, fingers, legs and mind.  Opportunities for growth, perseverance and community abounded too.  And those are the moments I still take with me today.  We went on trips for band.  I have NO recollection of where we specifically played, what music was on our stands, but boy, do I remember the tuxedo outfits we had to wear and the antics of the overnight trips.

Tracey and David (who also happened to be my neighbors) on a trip to Abbotsford, Canada.  Grover, my dear sleeping companion until marriage, came along, obviously.  And many times, Grover was subjected to the crazy schemes of my friends.

It’s the moments of late nights, bonding conversations, shared embarrassment over costumes and uniforms, and helping each other with pitch, harmony and guitar chord fingerings that are stuck deep in my memory.

Often something else lay beneath the surface, though.  The memory of position.  The memories of second chair.  The memories of making mistakes at the recital.  Remembrances of being Vice President.  Showing leadership, and yet, always a rung down.  In band it was so obvious.  It was clear who was first.  Who was the best, most skilled, consistent and talented.  We SAT, day after day, in position.  A visual reminder.

There was never a moment to breathe and take in the gift of being first.  Another opportunity for shuffling, re-positioning, and movement was always around the next bend.  So, the anecdote to fear?  Practice.  Lessons.  Pushing.

I have talked here before about the amazing book, The Blessing of  a Skinned Knee by Wendy Mogel.  The premise being that failure, mistakes, basically, being second, isn’t a bad thing for children.  It builds up resilience, independence and drive.  The ability to get up, try again, knowing you CAN make it through something tough.  That being said, I still remember being second chair.  Feel red faced.  Knowing I always would come home with the 2nd or 3rd place ribbon at the  Scottish Games and dance competitions.  Instead of feeling proud of my hard work and placing at all, I often felt like I just never quite “made” it.

Now that I have children of my own, I start asking myself so many questions again.  What do I encourage and push my own children to pursue?  Saturday soccer leagues?  Music lessons?  An art class?  Do I create an insane, unmanageable schedule by putting too much on the list?  Or is the enrichment and growth offered worth it?  And how to discuss and work through comparison…..I am starting to hear echoes of that coming out of my eldest’s mouth.  I want him to discern and observe and discuss.  The California State Standards even REQUIRE kids to do so, “Students will analyze, assess, and derive meaning from works of art, including their own, according to the elements of art, the principles of design, and aesthetic qualities.”  Part of that comparison is meant to be.  It pushes us to do better.  Be better.  Perform better.  But, the balance.  Where is the balance?

I don’t harbor resentment towards friends who placed above me, who out-shown my shoddy skills.  That was just the reality.  Maybe they practiced more.  Maybe it was just a natural gift for them.  Maybe their rear ends didn’t stick out as much as mine {you think I jest, but seriously, I can still hear my mom, who was also my dance teacher, telling me to tuck in my bottom!}.  Who knows, but rationally, I know those experiences, exhilarating, hilarious, memorable and tough combined to make me who I am today.  The fear creeps in as I wonder how my own kids will reflect on this in twenty years.  How do we, as parents, simultaneously push and pull our kids back?  To encourage and motivate but also soothe their sadness and anger over performance?  How to protect their sensitive hearts and foster resilience?

It is a balance.  And I am reminded day in and day out that the only way to hopefully strike the right balance is to remember WHO I am depending on when I start to tip and get fearful and confused.  Who is in the boat with Matt and I, providing the stability and companionship?  Who is truly in control?  When we start to struggle with and grasp that piece, the reality that no amount of practice, list making, performing, jockeying, costuming, or trophies secure peace….well, then that’s when the stabilizer of the boat, the Calm Presence in the middle of the storms and questions, reminds us that we are enough.  Enough even when you only get to second chair, despite the practice and effort.  Enough and more.

On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’ And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’ And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’

~Mark 4

Hopping

Things are hopping around here!  Drew’s hopping, yes.

But lots of other things are going a million miles a minute too.  Sometimes I feel rather insulated from the “real world” out there.  Don’t worry, I caught about 8 hours of Royal Wedding coverage thanks to our DVR.  Alex kept saying, “Is that princess STILL getting married?!?!?”  And randomly, I turned on the news to catch the Bin Laden drama.  But finding time and energy to do much more than be present with the daily needs of the boys and making sure we all have food, water and sleep, is beyond me.

Trying to “force” a little creativity here and there.  By force, it means requiring Alex to get started on things on his own and then seeing where he goes.  It’s always WAY more intricate than I’d ever come up with and in the end, I think it’s more satisfying for him.

Case in point, last night he got his bug net, bug cage, camera, a tube to use as a telescope and Drew’s bottle…he declared he was going hiking.

Later he added the glasses to make himself invisible and search for a hiding spot.  I told him hiding wasn’t necessary if he was invisible….but that was lost on him.  OH, well.

Or earlier, pretending he was a king with these scarves.  Seriously….these scarves have been EVERYTHING!!  Super great, versatile fun.

Trying to offer some organized fun to give him tools to create and craft new things…

And yes, I am that mom.  The one that bribes her kid.  Today is the Mother’s Tea at the preschool.  So many times I wonder how I got here.  Not here as in Sunnyvale.  But here as in….A MOM.  I remember labor and delivery well enough.  But I still look at their faces and think, “WHAT?!  Who left us in charge, thinking we could raise and handle them??”  (Luckily, I’m currently enrolled in a “Love & Logic” parenting class at church.  No need to fear.  There’s a lot of, “That’s so sad” comments flying around these parts lately.)

Anyhow, I bribed Alex to wear shorts today.  He only likes cozy pants, but it’s supposed to be in the 80′s today and geez, Louise….dress up a bit once in awhile. So he put this on:

And then he went and looked in the full length mirror in our bedroom and declared, “What in the whole wide world?!  I look really great!!“

I’m so grateful that our life circumstances allow me to be present for many more of these moments lately, and yet, the hopping back and forth in my mind continues.  The delicate balance of me time, vs. focused time for them.  Getting up at 5:30am to go and work out compared with sleeping an hour and a half longer.   The tension between laying down the boundaries with empathy and consistency (yes, I was listening in the class on Sunday!) vs. wanting to lose it and yell.  The crafting ideas I want to do for myself, and the to do list items that need to be attended to….

(I squeezed in one on Monday night!)

There are way too many things that no doubt go through ALL our heads, as parents, as citizens of the world during this tumultuous time, as friends to others, as believers, called to love others as we love ourselves.  Right now, though, I’m trying to practice what I preached to the summer staff and volunteer counselors at Westminster Woods.  The need to focus on your sphere of influence.  If they were at campfire, for example, and two junior high kids were sitting a little **too** close and were distracting others with their “purpling” (serious term, folks….when boys–blue–and girls–pink/red–get too close and comfy….it becomes PURPLE.  USE IT.  It’s such a freeing, fun term.  Ha ha.) then they should quietly, use their own body language and influence to get them back on track.

So now, as a mom, I’m coming to terms that my sphere needs to shrink a bit.  I’m just not going to be able to keep in touch with as many people, commit to as many opportunities, volunteer in the same way or even find a job with the same reckless abandon I might have 10 years ago.

My dear friend wrote this to me in an email this week, and it totally sums up my own thoughts as I hop from thing to thing….

“Still, I have moments of feeling…lost…not feeling myself…lost in babies and their feeding schedule, lost without my support network nearby from my former church community, lost in my lack of independence and vocation. When will I feel like a mom…and feel like it’s right…and really me?”

So true.  Exactly what goes through my head as I seek to redefine my new identity.  She just had her babies in February.  I’ve been a mom for almost 4 years, and I’m still asking those questions.  I guess it’s hard to know if we ever really feel like a mom, completing accepting our own starts, stops, pitfalls, successes.  Instead of planning my days down to the minute, living by the clock as I did while teaching, I’m now having a much simpler list.  Today’s included working out while reading Real Simple, getting breakfast made (& eaten), making sure Drew gets two naps, showering, going to the tea, having quiet, everyone in their own room, time (seriously, a LIFE SAVER) and hopefully enjoying some outdoor time with the boys this evening while Matt’s at youth group.  Yesterday I managed Trader Joes with both boys and a full shopping list.  I was ready for someone to hand me a trophy when we’d all gotten home safe and sound, successfully unloaded the bags and food and were settled for naps.

Rather than following Drew’s lead, trying to hop from thing to thing, commitment to commitment and find myself trying to scrape myself off the pavement, I’m just going to be happy and satisfied with slowing things down.  Even when I question my identity as a mom and vocationally, I DO know that these are the moments I don’t want to miss.

Gotta love Natalie and how well this song has continued, over the years, to remind me to savor…(go ahead and play it and enjoy some 1999 video “goodness”!).

These are the days
These are days you’ll remember.
Never before and never since,
I promise, will the whole world be warm as this.
And as you feel it, you’ll know it’s true that you are blessed and lucky.
It’s true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days you’ll remember.
When May is rushing over you with desire to be part of the miracles you see in every hour. You’ll know it’s true that you are blessed and lucky.
It’s true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days.
These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break.
These days you might feel a shaft of light make its way across your face.
And when you do you’ll know how it was meant to be.
See the signs and know their meaning.
It’s true, you’ll know how it was meant to be.
Hear the signs and know they’re speaking to you, to you.

Effervescence

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I love this man.  I think my husband would agree….Mr. Josh Ritter is just beyond fabulous.

I took a risk and bought two tickets for this concert back in November, hoping we could find childcare and that the stars would align for us to go.  And unbeknown to us, our friends Matt & Amanda Silas had gotten tickets too.  Can we say, “YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  Good friends.  A night out without the chitlins.  A leisurely dinner.  Great music.

Even though February 25th dawned with a major head cold taking the upper hand, I was determined to enjoy the night, no matter what….you can almost SEE my bloated sinuses in this pic!

We enjoyed a wonderful dinner together at B Star Bar in the city….how could we go wrong with:

• Spicy Tuna Ceviche (pepper crusted tuna tataki with jalapeño, avocado and wakame)
• Portabello Veggie Fresh Spring Rolls (tofu, basil, mint, cucumber, carrot, sprouts, peanut sauce)
• Taco Duo with fresh mango, onions, radish, avacado, ginger, pork belly
• Salt and Pepper Fries with curry aioli
• Matt had Ochazuke (Japanese style comfort food. grilled salmon, pan fried rice, green tea broth, poached egg)
• Amanda and I split the Miso Cod on Garlic Noodles (arugula, cucumbers, shiitake and oyster mushrooms and asparagus, chili oil) and Coconut Rice
• And Matt S had the Lamb Curry (organic lamb braised until tender with coconut rice and a pickled mango slaw)
• Plus Blood Orange mimosas and another fun tropical drink to share
• We split dessert four ways….YUM!!!!  (Warm Chocolate Cake with Ginger Ice Creamhomemade Guitard chocolate cake with ginger ice cream, topped with strawberries)

 

Clearly……we starved.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO good.

I just chalk it up to a night with good friends, rare non-kid time and free babysitting (thanks to my parents!!!).  Here’s some pics of the crazies….

 

Just blame it on Dietrich Bonhoeffer….

“[In] the whole of world history there is always only one really significant hour — the present…”

 

Let me get back to Mr. Ritter, though.  Josh Ritter to be exact.  There’s a few folks whose music taste I stalk, trying to keep myself somewhat relevant.  And Robby Crowe is definitely one of those friends.  Last May, we were staying with the Crowes in Charlotte prior to our week at Montreat Center for a conference.  NPR was previewing Josh Ritter’s new album ahead of its actual release.  It only took moments of hearing him that day to know I’d love his music and be buying an album!

But what we experienced on Friday at the concert was so much more than a concert….and to me, and my elementary musical awareness, it seemed like Josh was the responsible party.  Basically, here’s the algorithm:

Josh Ritter = Effervescence

Just look at that picture at the beginning of this post.  He was so genuine.  He was joy-ful and joy-filled.  He was clearly having a BLAST.  It wasn’t a question.  He loves his life-work.  Take a little look at this to see for yourself.

And it was palatable how much his mood and spirit lifted the vibe at the Fillmore.  His decision to ooze this joy made all the difference.  And I said “his decision” on purpose, because even though it seemed to naturally be part of him, I have to believe that there’s got to be days when joy and effervescence isn’t his natural bend.  But as Bonhoeffer stated, it’s all about the present.  The here and now.

So, thank you, Josh for a great night.  For giving of yourself, for perfecting your craft, and inviting us in to partner in the creative process.  It was a night to remember!

{We even got to slow dance like junior highers, arms locked, swaying back and forth….that was  a hilarious moment!!!!  Josh wanted to create one of the biggest, most awkward, slow dance group moments.}