California Love

Clint and I have been married almost sixteen years.  That blows my mind.  We have been together more of our lives than apart at this point.  Deductive reasoning tells me that we're old, but we don't feel old.  Well, we kind of felt old when we went on our blow-out fifteenth year anniversary trip and managed to go to bed every night by 10, but I digress.

We flew into San Francisco, and we spent a couple of days in the city.  El Nino set in right as we got there, so it poured the rain the first couple of days.  It didn't matter to us.  It was part of the memory.  

From there, we drove down to Monterey.  It is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen.  We stayed on Cannery Row, and we could hear the waves crash as we slept.  That sounds super romanticized, but it's actually true.  My only regret about Monterey was not getting to stay longer.





As we left Monterey, the weather finally broke, and the sun started to shine.  We drove through Big Sur on one of the bluest days I'd seen in a while.  Before we knew it, we came upon Bixby Bridge, and it took our breath.  Every car commercial I've ever seen couldn't have prepared us for this.  I kind of hate posting pictures of it because I don't think I can even do it justice.





We also stopped at Pebble Beach along this route, which I hear is a pretty famous golf course...haha... Beyond Monterey, we spent the night in Pismo Beach, which had the rolling green hills to the left balanced by the Pacific Ocean to the right.  We met a great couple who retired and opened a wine tasting shop in downtown Pismo.  As we tried different varieties they offered, it was time for the owners to go home.  She let me in on the fact that the Italian place next door was one of the best meals to be had in the town.  They were headed there for dinner, and we told them we were likely headed that way as well.  When they got there, she called back over to say that there was a wait, and that she had put our name on the list.  It was such a quaint little town that kept a little piece of my heart.

After Pismo Beach we spent the day in Santa Barbara.  The red tile roofs were the trademark of the town as well as the art galleries that held unique trinkets.  It was there that we picked up the timeless kid's book "Booger Picker" for Kai.  It was a hit.  We also found a sushi restaurant that reminded us of home.



And then we drove through LA.  And drove.  And drove.  And drove.  And by drove I mean sat in LA  traffic.

 

Dinner in Long Beach came right in time.  We spent the night in Laguna Beach in the most incredible oceanside room.  We met a solider who was there on leave.  He had the skinniest legs I've ever seen, and he was dressed like a Holister ad.  He was everything I thought Laguna Beach would be, but he was going home to Milwaukee...haha.



We ended our trip in San Diego.  Clint's need to take a tour in every city that we visit that offers tours led us to a Mexican restaurant where we watched the kickoff to March Madness.



The strangest/best/most disconcerting thing about the whole trip was not having Kai.  We ate sushi in the hotel room one night, and it was so easy.  We slept with the windows open.  We actually talked to each other.  It was nice to remember how life feels when you aren't working 9000 hours a week and trying to maintain your child's respectable presence in Kindergarten.

He was having it really tough while we were gone spending time at the Chattanooga Aquarium, Pigeon Forge, and the movies with his Nan and Pop.  He was so sad he could barely stand it.

  

This trip has been a long time coming.  It's been on our "Dream Trip" list for several years, and it was everything we wanted it to be.  We are so fortunate to have the support of my mom and dad who allow us to make our marriage a priority.  California was hit!

Here's to new beginnings

I want to be consistent at blogging.  I love to look back and read the posts from a couple of years ago, and I love the fact that Kai can do that someday as well.  But life just wins most of the time. Priorities are different, and exhaustion takes over.  I love my job, and I love my life, but, at the end of the day, there don't seem to be any words left.  I guess high school administration does that to you...haha.

Kai is in Kindergarten.  He loves it, and he has really come into his own.  He is so independent, and he is comfortable at school.  His teacher, Ms. Ellison, is fantastic, and he has grown so much in the last year.  He is really ready for summer, and I can't blame him.  Summer is my favorite time of year too!

Three years ago, I was accepted into the Leadership Academy in Knox County.  I worked at Carter High as a Grad Coach for one year, and then I went to Hardin Valley Academy as an Assistant Principal.  I was so lucky to get to be there because I got to work with the principal who hired me to teach as well as some of teachers with whom I had worked with at West.  It was such a safe place to learn how to be an administrator, and I feel so fortunate to have had the chance to learn in that place with those people.  Besides that, I had an incredible cohort of friends with whom I worked in the Academy.  There were many long nights and lots of long Fridays, but that experience proved to be one of the most powerful learning experiences I have had since I have been in education.  

In 2014, I got the opportunity to help open Career Magnet Academy in Knox County with some incredible educators.  The school itself its worth it's own entire post, but I feel blessed every day that I have the chance to work in such a place.  

To be silent for many years makes it tough to catch up on a blogging site...haha.  Rather than try to figure out what all deserves a spot in this most recent inaugural post, perhaps it's just best to dive in and start all over.  Here's to new beginnings....again.  

It's too late to apologize.

My child is growing up in a gym.  Our lives are defined by various fields and gyms, and he is learning to survive.  The games never end by bedtime, sometimes there are kids, and those concession stands make a pretty mean popcorn.  Clint and I have talked about it quite a bit, and we have decided that there are certainly worse places to grow up-North Dakota, for instance.

The other day, as we were walking back to the gym from counting money, Kai pointed down the hall of Hardin Valley, and he said, "Mommy, I remember back there; it's where we cooked," and he was right.  We had a cookout back there at the beginning of school year for all of the staff.  It broke my heart in a thousand pieces because he probably won't have that memory next year.  The year-to-year change is a struggle for me, but it also makes me so sad for him.  I want him to have places that are constant in his childhood, and I always thought my school would be one of those places.  Because we are working on three schools in three years, that hasn't quite been the case.  So I've decided that Kai's place will be the gym.  Most gyms share common features.  They are places of jubilation and heart break, holding on and letting go.  I can live with that.  There is a lot to be learned within gym walls, and though it isn't the life I thought we would have, it's one with which I am coming to terms.  Who knows?  Maybe one day I will walk into a gym to watch him play; maybe it will be a place that guards his time and keeps him away from all of the things I never want him to do.  There are a thousand things that remain to be seen.  The one thing I know for sure, though?  Right now, if you're looking for us, you can find us in the gym.

So this is how a heart breaks?

Upstairs there is a little boy clutching a Santa Claus that a stranger gave him tonight at Dollywood.  He's fast asleep dreaming of Woody and Buzz and ice cream, I'm sure.  Every night he asks me to come up and "take a little nap with him" after his Daddy finishes the bedtime ritual of teeth, story, prayers, songs, and bed.  Sometimes I want to scream when he asks because it will have been a long day and my mommy role is all tapped out.  But most of the time I go.  It has become a bit of a routine where I go up there, slip my hand in his, and begin talking to God. 

As we drove home tonight, I began to feel a hint of panic mixed with a lot of sad.  I have written about this before, but I think it is even more pronounced lately.  Kai is growing up.  He's moving away already.  Just the other day he ditched his dad at the park when he thought he had a shot of playing with another kid.  But it's more than that.  More than ever recently, when I am up there at night, I spend my time begging God to allow things to stay the same for just a little while longer.  Not just with Kai but across the board.  It feels like life is so uncertain, and when it comes to Kai, I almost can't breathe to think of the effect bad things could have on him.  Beyond that, maybe it just feels like things are a little too good to be true.  I am in a near constant state of waiting for the other shoe to drop since Cade died, I guess.  Perhaps that is one of those lingering effects.  Either way, I am sure God is a little overwhelmed by a mom spending her nights from 9-9:30 arguing for the chance to do what it takes so things can just remain the way they are. 

On the way home from Dollywood, we stopped for ice cream at the McDonald's drive thru to fulfill a little boy's dream.  We ordered him the chocolate sundae.  As he was eating, he asked, "Mommy, why did you get Kai this?"  He then followed up with, "Mommy, thank you for this ice cream."  To say that my heart cracked a little probably doesn't do it justice.  Is it possible to miss the days when ice cream and a trip to Dollywood complete your baby's world before they are even gone?  If so, that's where I am tonight.  Square in the middle of that. 

I guess change is good for any of us...

It's bad when it's been so long between blog posts that I don't totally recognize the settings anymore...  We are barreling toward summer in the Stowers' house, and the last few months have been a lot of fun...

About a month ago, we (and by we I mean everyone that lives around me except actually me) planted a garden.  What started as a little vegetable project became a 30 x 60 plot.

We celebrated Easter.

And we lived it up at prom 2012...

Also last month I decided on a big change.  I accepted a position as a graduation coach at Carter High, my alma mater.  Changing jobs has been a consideration in my mind for more than a little while, and the timing just seems right for a lot of reasons.  However, it wasn't an easy decision to make.  When I say that West High School and those kids have a part of my heart, I can't be more serious.  Yesterday as a I sat at Senior Luncheon for the last time (at least for a little while...), we watched the video that some of my kids made, and it took everything I had to prevent the trickle of tears from turning into a full out sob.  In a lot of ways I grew up there.  I started when I was 21.  Leaving that place behind is leaving more than just a classroom; it's leaving a lot of memories.  It's leaving memories of the highest highs and the lowest lows.  It's leaving people that I consider family; the same people who helped bear the load when I should have been a new mom but was dealing with something very different instead.  West High School is who I am, and what a terrifying proposition, at this stage in the game, to become someone else.  But, Clint and I worked through it, and we decided to go for it.  That's the thing about a change like this:  it's a family affair.  He is just as invested as I am.  In August I will go back to school.  I will be terribly nervous that first day because it isn't somewhere that I have been in quite a while.  I will be tackling a new set of responsibilities, and I will be sick about missing the nuances of West that I enjoy so much.  In the long run, though, I am praying that this will be really good.  I am praying that I can reach a different set of kids and that I prove to be just as effective there as I feel I am in the classroom.  Regardless of all my hopes, on the drive in that morning I am sure I will have to play a little TuPac to fortify my spirit.  I am trying to find out, I guess, if change really is good for any of us.  

On a lighter note...

Because of yesterday's super depressing post, I figure I have to follow up with a happiness and light update.  To get things rolling...

Brent and Laura came in at Thanksgiving, and we all took the boys to the aquarium.  They had a blast.

Clint's aunt made Kai this hat on the off chance we would have a cold day this winter.  Guess we will just have to put it in the curio cabinet as an ode to what might have been.

We got a new camera at Christmas, so my goal is to become a photographer extraordinaire.  This was my first shot.  Not too bad if I do say so myself.  If the subjects stay veeeerrrrryyyyy still, I think I can be amazing.

There isn't a particular story with this shot.  I just think it's cool.  (Well, besides that strange lady in the background...)  That's not true.  There is a story.  This is the first day we took Kai to the park that he actually climbed the ladders and went down the slides totally on his own.  It was a huge accomplishment for his playground-cautious nature.  He hasn't had that first big playground fall yet, but my heart did stop a few times.  I am fond of all his limbs and teeth, so I am hoping they aren't casualties.  

It's amazing all the things I DON'T take pictures of.  Clint and I went to Orlando without Kai after Christmas.  Not a single picture.  We also went to the FSU vs Notre Dame game.  Not a single picture.  Christmas.  Not. A. Single. Picture. Maybe the new camera will remedy that.  

Some days...

Some days it's really hard to be a teacher.  Not in the grading papers, attending meetings, making copies kind of way, but in the heartbreaking grief kind of way.  The way that leaves your soul bare and your reserves exhausted.  We lost a student last week-not one that currently attends West, but one that we let go just  a mere seven months ago.  He took his own life.  He took his own life.  There is no real reason to repeat that except as an attempt to wade through the actuality.  So, yeah, we lost a student.  The kids came in the doors, and there we were to greet them and do our best at walking them through the first day of the rest of their now very different lives.  It's a pretty tall order.  It's not having the words; it's not being able to fix the broken; it's feeling such sorrow yourself that you don't even have what it takes to fake a conversation.  Some days it's really hard to be a teacher.