The Moments

Early this morning I laid in our queen size bed with an 80 pound Doberman at my feet, a two year old cuddled sweetly on my lap, a five year old burrowed just right under my arm, coffee in my hand, and a husband curled up to my left under the blankets still catching some z’s. Through the door and out the boys’ bedroom window I saw the sun start to peak it’s head up over the line of trees past the fields and across the street. The sunlight was just enough for me to see the dew on the field out our bedroom window. At this moment everyone was content. There was no hitting, no fighting over space in the squished little bed, no one had asked for milk or water or 14 snacks.

Right in that moment I soaked it all in, knowing it wouldn’t last much longer. Little kids in their jammies with bare feet warm under the blanket. Two brothers getting along watching cartoons. An unreal amount of laundry piles on our floor. The boys’ room scattered with toys and books on what seems like every inch of the floor. The next room piled with boxes that need unpacked. A first floor with an entire other list of chores. A heart so full it felt like it could explode.

One particular morning this week started with tears for most of us (not dad, of course- sometimes I wish I had male emotions). Nothing in particular went wrong. The two year old didn’t want to wear his coat. The five year old was mad that the two year old wouldn’t give him room in the bed. I left the house flustered and in tears by the time I got to work. On my drive I over-thought all the decisions Sam and I made for ourselves and these little humans in the last few months. A new job for mom, selling our first house and moving into our forever home, and switching from a babysitter who has helped raise our boys for five years to daycare.

I was feeling sorry for myself. I wasn’t able to see that this one moment of overwhelming stress was just one part of some tough decisions that have led to putting my heart at peace in moments like this morning. I can’t tell you how many times I over-rationalize small moments and can’t see my way out to the rational side of things. My favorite part of teaching (probably not true- I could say that about a lot of things) is helping my students to work through the moments that take over their emotions and leave them numb. To help them see that these small moments we get trapped in are just a teeny tiny part of our bigger picture. We always figure it out, together, every.time.

Sam sent me this picture of the boys sitting in the field picking left over beans while I was out running errands this week. Today I am saving it as my phone screen saver to remind myself that all these small moments that fill my heart more than I can handle are worth so much more of my time than the moments that try to take me down. I hope you, too, can find a small moment of your day that makes your heart swell and remind you why your life is grand. ♥

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Cheers to the Dads & Grandpas

Sitting at my grandpa’s funeral, a devastated 17 year old, I remember listening to my dad give a speech about his life. A part of that speech was a story I’d forgotten about until today.

When my dad was young he enjoyed himself a good ol’ mayonnaise and cheese sandwich (gross, I agree). One evening he wanted his mayo and cheese snack. My grandma told him no, blaming a broken mayonnaise jar. In my dad’s kindergarten eyes this was no problem, my grandpa would fix it. This time the jar was, in-fact, unfixable. At my grandpa’s funeral my dad explained that was the last time his dad was unable to fix his problems.

As we were getting ready for bed tonight I heard something drop on the floor. I looked over and saw it was Brantley’s favorite seashell. This dang shell has been sitting on the counter for three months. I’ve tried to move it, hide it, put it away, and that thing keeps making its way back to the counter. I looked at the shell, I looked at Sam who gave me the not good look, and waited for Brantley to realize what happened.

Brantley slid off the chair and fell into my lap in tears. That story about my grandpa popped right into my mind as I was trying to console a four year old over a broken seashell given to him by his Memaw. I thought of my dad fixing our problems because he had a dad who fixed his. To me a broken seashell was no big deal. To little boys a broken shell and a mayonnaise jar meant so much more.

Just then I heard Sam assure Brantley we could fix the shell (and I was hoping super glue would magically appear). I found some glue, I put Brooks to bed, and came downstairs to a little white seashell resting on a paper towel waiting for glue to dry. That four year old? Content on the floor playing because dad fixed his problem..again.

I flashed forward to years ahead where we will be consoling him over missed shots, broken hearts, and every other thing I am not ready for. I thought of my own parents and the times they held me telling me everything would be ok..even if they weren’t quite sure how that would happen. Because that’s what we do as parents– hope and pray we can find the answers.

Today I am thankful for the dads and grandpas who can fix the seashells and all the problems. The dads who find the glue and stick us back together when needed. The dads who lead by the best example. What a grand reminder on this Father’s Day about the little things really being the biggest. ❤️

You Teach What??

Here’s about how the conversation goes when I tell people I teach…

Stranger- “What grade?!”

Me- “7th grade.”

Stranger (with a super shocked, you’re crazy, look on their face)- “Wow! That must be tough.”

…some days I feel like we discuss appropriate behaviors more than we discuss novels or math problems, yes. Some days we make parent phone calls more than we want. Standing on the sidelines while our students struggle academically and experience tragedy is heartbreaking.

Then some days we are greeted with sweet treats like this.

One of my students stops to chat with me almost every day during my morning hall duty. We talk about baseball, his life, my boys, really anything he can squeeze in in about three minutes. I mentioned we had spent a Sunday looking at new houses. For a few weeks now he’s been telling me every time he sees a house for sale. Friday morning he told me about a great house with a big yard for the boys to play. Today he brought me this rolled up piece of paper that he’d definitely been holding the whole bus ride. Under that heart is the name, phone number, and address of a house for sale in his neighborhood.

“They have done a lot of changes to it so you will have to call that guy and he will let you see it. It has a big backyard for your kids to play, too.”

And right there, folks, is why I will tell all those strangers exactly why I show up every day. And exactly why we all show up every day. It’s the little moments like this one that keep us going. It’s not always an easy path but, honestly, what is?! ❤️🖤

I Didn’t Do All the Things & That’s Okay

Every time I have a break from school I create this grand plan in my head of everything we are going to do. We are going to have play dates, lunch dates, purge all the unnecessary things laying around the house, go on day trips, visit all the fun kid places. You know, do all the things in one small break that I don’t get to do everyday while being a working mom. Sam was going to be off with me for most of the break and together we could definitely conquer all of the things.

You know what we’ve done this break? Stayed in our PJs for entire days. Spent lots of time laughing and loving our parents, and grandparents, and cousins, and brothers, and friends (Seriously- you should watch my firecracker, red-headed niece open presents- the.best). Sam and I had a date day of breakfast and December golfing (who golfs in December?!). We made forts and danced to music. We’ve made beds on the floor and drank hot chocolate while watching movies. We’ve crawled around on the floor playing with nerf guns and new toys from Christmas. We played baseball and played catch (the boys tried to practice their throwing and catching skills with their raspberries one afternoon). Brooks insisted we read the same book over and over and over again. Not one dang thing from my list… unless you count eating lunch together at our kitchen counter as a lunch date.

About this time last week I was getting a little crazy. Stir crazy, regular crazy, whatever you want to call it. So much time spent in the house and there’s only so much chaos I thought I could handle. I wanted to get out, check things off my list. My boys had other plans. Plans of creating and embracing the chaos.

Here we are on the last day of my break. I sure did not do all the things on my list. We barely crossed off anything. The point of my list, though, was to enjoy every second of my time off with my boys. I’ve learned doing all the things, or rather, stressing about doing all the things isn’t what it’s all about. All these crazy fellas care about is spending time together and the best place to do that, for us right now, is right here in this house filled with chaos and love.

When I start to feel like I’m not doing enough I’m going to remember these two weeks. Two weeks where it didn’t matter that I didn’t do all the things. I’m going to remind myself to see the world through the eyes of a four year old and his little one year old brother. I’m going to remind myself to slow down; it doesn’t matter where or when or how it all happens, it just matters that we’re together. ❤️

What’s Your Favorite Part?

Every night on vacation we asked Brantley his favorite part of the day. He’d usually tell us the pool (typically the last thing we did..toddler brain) and then he’d help us decide Brooks’ favorite part of the day. By the end of the week we all loved hearing Brantley and my two nieces’ favorites each night before bed.

So, naturally, on our way out of town, in the Dunkin’ Donuts drive through before getting on the highway for our 10 hour drive home, we asked Brantley his favorite part of vacation. Honestly, I can’t even remember what he said. I probably (hopefully) wrote it down with the other days’ faves in the notes section of my phone. This was followed by me asking Sam his favorite part. “Outside of it just being vacation and a great time, I’d say watching Brantley.” Then, it was my turn. I went to open my mouth and the tears came. I pulled my sunglasses onto my eyes (because if you ever need to cry and you don’t need it to be public knowledge, sunglasses will hide it all- you’re welcome for the tip) and took a breather. Sam, not phased by the silence, let it go for a few, then looked over to see a legitimate waterfall of tears coming from my eyes. We laughed, I grabbed myself a bag of Fritos at 7:30 a.m. (I recently figured out my body hates gluten, awesome!- road trip snacks are not nearly as fun anymore), and I tried to pull myself together. Sam asked again, and turns out the time it took me to eat the Fritos wasn’t quite long enough. Water works. Literally two hours later I was able to simply agree with Sam. Watching Brantley and my nieces play together and experience new things was simply the coolest thing.

Our house looks like a real life game of the I Spy books 90% of the time. There’s most likely some sort of music playing, the dog’s barking, and at least one kid is making some sort of odd noise. On any given day I’ve probably counted to three 15 different times. Brantley has peed outside twice because the plumbing inside the house isn’t that fun? The dog has cleaned up the left over food in the high chair and food covering the ground after every meal. I’ve talked myself out of that third cup of coffee and the living room looks like this. Chaos. Nearly alll the time.

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Can you find the baby spoon? How about the diaper cream? Ohhh..the fake snake? Seriously.

On those same days I have two boys wrestling to get the best spot on my lap. I have a three year old who hears my favorite song on the radio and yells, “Mom, it’s your song! Volume this up!” That same three year old will do any favor I ask him (including running down two flights of stairs to get toilet paper because we are always out in the bathroom I’m using…how?). He’d rather be outside playing in mud, catching bugs, or running through the sprinkler than in the house. I have a one year old who is trying to make words we can’t quite figure out but momma sure does come out perfectly. That small fella adores his older brother and belly laughs when brother comes near. I have a husband who sends me out to pick up lunch when he sees all my marbles are about down the drain with no hope of returning.

You see, my favorite part is all of this. The everyday. The good, the bad, the ugly, the exhausting. I mean, I don’t love the blowout diapers or the tantrums, but aren’t they part of the package? If I didn’t have those, my favorite parts wouldn’t be as great. That chaos is my favorite thing. The snugs and the I love yous and the laughs. The moments when you think it is impossible for your heart to hold any thing else inside. They’re pretty grand too. Our pediatrician reminded me these two little humans are our most important job. Everything else can wait. I remind myself of this almost daily when I play my cards juuust right to get both boys down for a nap at the same time then have that never ending mental struggle of do I clean the house or do I nap? Rarely does being productive win.

If you need help embracing the chaos, let me know. I’ll bring coffee, we can make toy angels in your living room, I’ll find you the number for pizza delivery for dinner and we’ll order enough for left-overs. This phase is hard but I hear it goes so, so fast. Live in the chaos because one day this will be your favorite part. ❤️

Love, A Teacher Thankful for Those Adults

Dear Adult,

It seems in the wake of tragedy in our society people start pointing fingers. Sometimes at other adults, sometimes at kids. Teenagers have their heads stuck in their phones. All hope in our next generation has been lost. Teenagers only care about themselves. I decided to become a teacher because I wanted to make a difference in the life of a child. I didn’t go into teaching so I could practice intruder drills with my students. I didn’t go into teaching so I could lay awake at night trying to answer all the what jf questions that come from those drills. I didn’t go into teaching so I could read an incredibly boring script before state testing every year. I didn’t go into teaching so I could fill out paperwork, and documentation reports, and incident reports, and data trials, and..my list could go on. I do these not so great things because of our ever changing society and the needs that arise to protect my students and make them better people. I went into teaching so I could advocate for someone whose voice wasn’t quite strong enough on it’s own.

Have you ever seen the popular girl stop to help the quiet girl pick up her supplies scattered all over a busy hallway? I have.

Have you ever witnessed a student who has been disconnected from the classroom start yelling at a book during a class read aloud because he’s so invested in what’s coming off the page? And watch that same kid beg to spend the class period reading? I have.

Have you ever felt the silence in a classroom as a student tells the class, The most noble act a person can do is give their life for someone else? How about watch a teacher’s eyes fill with tears because she knows what that student was really saying in that moment was I’ll protect this classroom if it comes down to it..? I have.

Have you heard a packed auditorium of teenagers go wild when the students from the multiple disabilities classroom get on stage and perform their yearly dance routine in the talent show? I have.

Have you watched a kid’s face go from frustration to bewilderment when they hear I’m proud of you even though they made a few bad choices before a good one? Or the look on their face when a student hears I’m thankful for you or I appreciate you? I have.

Have you ever felt like a complete fool after you’ve spent a class period nagging a student to wake up, but come to find out that student has been helping out at home by making dinner and taking care of siblings so a parent could work? I have.

Again, the list could go on. We don’t always hear about the great things kids are doing every day. We hear, kids aren’t doing (insert whatever you want) or adults have failed our kids. Of course kids make poor decisions. I choose to help them in the dark times and celebrate the goodness.

I promise you the great things our younger generation are doing far outweighs the bad. Sometimes kids make bad choices and act like fools in public. Weren’t you once a teenager who needed a little help to get back on the right path? You may be where you are because of some pretty fabulous people in your life. Teachers, parents, bus drivers, friends, coaches, family, anyone. I know I am. Be that adult for a kid in your life. They may act like they don’t need you, but remember you tried to be tough at one time, too. ❤️

Love,

A teacher thankful for those adults in her life.

The Days Are Long, But The Years Are Short

Recently, I was reading through posts I made last year and the beginning of this year about updates on my mom’s battle with a cancerous brain tumor. I, of course, got a little choked up as I remembered that this time last year was not my favorite, or my mom’s for that matter.

Last year, we were arguing about having Thanksgiving dinner at her house because she had a stomach bug. After some tears and frustration, Thanksgiving was at her house but she spent several hours asleep while we were all there. Later we found out it was more than a stomach bug, it was complications from chemo and a surgery she had had that summer. Following all of that, she got pneumonia, and yet again, spent time in the hospital. In between all this somewhere was Christmas and she was sick again and missed our family Christmas with my aunts and uncles and cousins and babies. The new year started and things continued to be tough through more hospital visits and a move for my mom.

In all of those moments it felt like a lifetime. Like the bad news was never going to turn into good. Everything was piling up, and it felt so incredibly hard to stay positive. There were plenty of times we were mean and wouldn’t let her quit. I was pregnant (let’s blame it on those hormones 😉) and all I wanted her to do was hold her grandson when the time came. There were plenty of times my husband had to remind me I was pregnant and breathing for two.

Fast forward a year later and we have this.

Photos taken by K.Fischer Photography

Does it even need any words? Four grand babies , one Grammie-Cakes, and an unreal amount of love.

People, I wasn’t sure we’d make it here. Those trenches were rough to climb out of. Standing at the bottom and looking up felt like too much work in itself. You know how we got here? You guys. Our people. Our village. (And a whole lotta faith 😊)

My husband who let me cry, my sister-in-law who took care of two little babes on her own when my brother was gone so much, my mother-in-law who watched Brantley at the drop of a hat, my dad who is just a down right saint, my cousin who made sure we had dinner on the table too many times to count, my friends who let me be angry and let me just not talk when needed, co-workers who didn’t leave my side, a babysitter who kept Brantley longer than normal hours, and a mom who decided to fight when things got tough.

My mom just came back from a trip to Florida where she travelled by herself. She continues to make improvements and get her life back after the chemo nearly tore it apart. If you would have told me last year this is where we would be today I️ wouldn’t have believed you. Never in my life did I think I would be thankful for those trying months, but I am. They gave me this. A family that can be in one picture. A picture sure is worth a thousand words.

Photos taken by K.Fischer Photography

Whatever you may be going through right now I hope soon you can look back and realize why you kept pushing. When it feels like this world is way too much, take a breather and lean on your people. Lean on all of them. The weight is easier when it’s spread out. We can speak from experience, and I promise the fight is worth it. ❤️

Go Home & Love Your Family

When I pick the boys up from the babysitter’s house Brantley and I typically talk the whole way home. Most conversations start with me asking if he had a fun day and end with him telling me if he had time out or not. I lied, recently our conversations have ended in a melt down because I turned left to get home instead of turning right (his favorite). He hasn’t quite mastered the thought process that if we continue to turn right we will drive in circles all night.  Many days we end up driving around the block a couple times practicing directions, just to stop the crying.

The other day, I picked up the boys, got them both buckled in, pulled out of the sitter’s driveway, and before I could ask Brantley if he had fun that day, he immediately asked, “Mommy, did you have fun at work today?” Excuse me, what? Did my three year old just ask me about my day? I didn’t even know what to say (some of you know that doesn’t happen often). Obviously I needed to answer his question but oh my gosh this little human was thinking about something other than himself and his cookies and his dinosaurs. He was asking about me.

I’m sure I’m not alone when I say that every time something crazy happens in our world I get this sudden urge to put on a Superman cape and go save all the people and all the things. I mean, maybe not everyone wants to wear a cape, or is that extreme, but you get the point. The thought that soon follows the Superman thought is: how in the world can little ol’ me change the world? Then, it hit me. That random Wednesday, doing everyday, normal things, I figured it out.

This Mother Teresa quote popped in my head. “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family”

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P.s.- Anything from this site is sure to be a hit as a Christmas gift. 😉 http://www.smallwoodhome.com

Honestly though, I have never really understood the quote until that random Wednesday in the car. Isn’t it obvious, isn’t it an unwritten rule to go home and love your family? Unfortunately, I know this isn’t the case for every family.

I’m not telling you about my three year old thinking about someone other than himself to tell you I have this motherhood thing all figured out. If we ever talk, you know that’s far from the truth. I’m telling you this because if I’ve figured out how to change the world – and all it takes is a simple conversation – I think you can change the world with me. Talking to Brantley about his day has somehow taught him the skills to ask questions to learn about someone else. Talk to your people. Ask someone how their day is and really listen for the answer. Your conversation could be what saves them.

Be an example. Be the good. Love your people. ❤️

How’s Life With Two Kids?

In the past month we have been asked numerous times, "What's life like with two kids?" Well, for starters…When we were leaving the hospital Brantley didn't want me to ride in the car. He and Sam started a wolf pack before Brooks was born. I was never invited to be in the wolf pack but it was pretty evident brother Brooks would definitely be in when he arrived. You guys, this wolf pack is a serious thing. They practice their howling every night before bed & Brantley even wakes up some mornings howling, they have secrets, and there are no girls allowed. When we were leaving the hospital after Brooks was born Brantley realized his wolf pack was now complete and thus didn't want mom in the car. He cried the whole way home and tried to convince me to get out. Super. Welcome to life with two kids.

So here it is folks…

Two kids is feeding one in one arm and wiping the other's #2 with the other.

Two kids is getting up way earlier than you want just so you can get a quiet shower that lasts more than 2 minutes and crossing your fingers no one wakes up while you're in there.

Two kids is one parent calming one kid while the other is negotiating dessert with the second.

Two kids is working on those arm muscles carrying a toddler and a baby seat.

Two kids is a celebratory dance when both kids are asleep at the same time.

Two kids is sleeping in separate houses (per doctor's orders) when one kid has a fever and the other is only five weeks old.

Two kids is calling in that village- grandparents, best friends, neighbors, cousins- when you just can't do it alone.

Two kids is literally never being on time no matter how hard you try.

Two kids is not being invited into the wolf pack even though you definitely know the howl.

Two kids is being down by 1 in the NBA finals with 3 seconds left, ball's in your possession, and suddenly the referee throws in a second ball to your teammate. You don't have a dang clue what to do in those three seconds but you somehow figure it out and bring home that championship.

Two kids is exhausting. [Some days] Two kids is no walk in the park. Two kids is high-fiving your husband in the kitchen over small victories. Two kids is some pretty intense team work. Two kids is a full lap for morning cartoons. Two kids is endless hugs and kisses and laughs. Two kids is a heart that didn't know this much love could exist.

Two kids is better than I could have ever imagined it could be. Two kids is where I belong. ❤️

Dear Baby H #2

It’s almost time for our family to grow by another little boy. Outside of these last few weeks, time has -of course- flown by as this babe has grown inside me. When I was pregnant with Brantley I had so many emotions- excitement for new adventures and fear we would do it all wrong seem to be what stands out in my memory. This pregnancy is no different. So, here are a few things I hope for Baby #2:

Dear Baby H #2,

There are so many things in this big world I want you to know but for now I’ll start with a just a few. 

The second you are born I hope you know how much you are loved. Your dad, brother, and I have been waiting (me not so patiently) to meet you. Your brother has been trying to feed you ice cream, makes sure you get a drink when he thinks you’re thirsty and is planning out the toys for you two to play with. I’ve made your dad crazy with my never ending to-do lists and new ideas to make sure everything is perfect for your arrival.

I hope you and your brother have days filled with so many adventures it will be hard to remember them all when you’re older. I hope you boys spend your days digging in the dirt and tracking mud in the house (you may need to remind me I said this when I get upset that the house is a full of dirt). I hope your imagination takes you places you’ll never be able to fully explain to your dad and I, but I sure hope you try. I hope your brother teaches you the ropes of your world and you love being Brantley’s Little Brother as much as I have loved being Cook’s Little Sister.

I hope you know being the youngest is pretty fabulous. I’m told things with the second child are a little different than the first. Different is good. Your dad and I are proof being the youngest isn’t so bad. 😊Maybe you won’t have as many Baby’s First Christmas ornaments, definitely not as many new, stain-free clothes, or as many of your own toys but you will be showered with just as much love. I’ve also been told seeing my kids together will fill me with more joy than I ever thought possible.

When you’re a teenager I hope you remember your parents aren’t all that bad. I hope your dad and I have given you many years of excitement, love, and trust that those years will be painless. I know, I know..but a mom can hope, right?! 🙂 When it’s time for you to leave our house, I hope you start your adventures with so much confidence because we have done everything we know to prepare you for what life brings. 

I hope you know that even though your life will be filled with so much joy, there are going to be some struggles. Things that make you think you can’t go on. But, listen up, kid! You’re going to be tough and you will make it. You’ll take it day by day, you’ll find the good, you’ll lean on your people, and you’ll come out on top. Promise. 

I hope you know just how much I love being your mom. After almost four years of being married to your dad, some days I still find it crazy when my students call me Mrs. Haddix – As much as I love that name, I love being mom even more. 

On top of all of this- I hope you always know just how special you are. You have quite the village of people surrounding you to help you through life. I love you more than you’ll ever know, buddy. ❤️

Mom