Why All the Fuss About Making a Murderer?

January 16, 2016January 18, 2016 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 4 Comments

Why the fuss

In the past few weeks, it is fair to say that Making a Murderer has become a national obsession. News programs have been talking about it. Celebrities have been tweeting about it. Netflix has been loving the success of it. And middle-aged moms like me have been folding laundry veeeerrrry sloooowwwwwly in order to squeeze a few more minutes out of our busy schedules to watch in horrified disbelief. It really is good television, if good television means that you will send your kids to the basement to play video games a little longer just so that you can see what happens next. Not that this happened at my house, but I’m just saying that I could understand if it did happen, somewhere.

I admit that I posted a couple of comments about the show on my own Facebook page, fueling interest among my friends, because Making a Murderer is the kind of documentary that you JUST WANT TO TALK ABOUT. And since my husband could not keep up with my break-neck pace in watching it last week, I wanted to find out which of my closest friends on social media were on top of it. (I might note that Netflix and I hadn’t really bonded prior to this viewing experience, but it is a good place to find other interesting documentaries like Blackfish and Fed Up. Fortunately, most documentaries don’t require the ten-hour commitment that Making a Murderer does.)

So what is this Making a Murderer about, anyway? In short, a man was once convicted of a crime that he did not commit, serving 18 years in prison before DNA evidence proved his innocence. Not long after his release, he was arrested for the murder of a photographer who had last been seen on his property. The documentary follows his defense team through their preparation for trial and their presentation of evidence. It also reveals details about the investigation into his teenaged nephew’s alleged involvement in the murder of this woman. The documentary raises questions about whether the county, feeling embarrassed by their mishandling of the first case in which this defendant was wrongfully imprisoned, might have bent the rules, so to speak, in order to guarantee a victory for the prosecution in his murder trial and thereby vindicate themselves for their previous mistakes.

Since the docuseries has become so popular, rebuttals to the story shared by the filmmakers are also popping up and spreading like wildfire. I have listened to part of Rebutting a Murderer by Dan O’Donnell (available on iHeartRadio), and I have also read this rebuttal on The Huffington Post. The rebuttals share the other side of the story, details from the prosecution’s perspective, some of which were excluded from Making a Murderer, and many of which point to the defendant’s guilt. They paint a picture of the accused as a volatile and dangerous man who clearly deserves to be in prison.

And maybe he does.

But in the fuss over whether or not the documentary is biased (and it is), I think we are missing the point. The bigger conversation here. The reason why a mom like me could not turn off the television while I was cooking pasta fagioli because I had to see how the story would unfold.

It’s not that I see the man at the center of this controversy as a model of good citizenship. It’s not even that I’m convinced of his innocence. It’s that he used the same criminal justice system that I may have to use someday, and, WOW, a lot of things went very wrong there.

Sure, there are people with a chip on their shoulder who ignored the bias and watched Making a Murderer for confirmation that the justice system is a mess. Yes, there are others who viewed it who think they are legal experts because they have a season of Law and Order saved on the DVR. But most viewers are smarter than that. They noticed that the prosecution, for the most part, wasn’t talking directly to the filmmakers like the defense was. They knew that they were hearing more in defense of the defendant than in support of the prosecution. They know good, honest, selfless people who work as police officers, attorneys, and judges, and they support those people when others don’t. And they still aren’t sure exactly what really happened in this case.

But that doesn’t make the documentary any less fascinating.

The primary argument of the rebuttals seems to be that the defendant is much more dangerous than the man that the docuseries presents him to be, and that may be true. However, the filmmakers DO share some details about the defendant that reveal questionable ethics. A police report shows that he once threw a cat in a fire, for goodness sake. He wrote angry, threatening letters to his wife from prison. And those things are IN the documentary. In fact, they led me to having a conversation with my own children (who did not watch the documentary, so please don’t panic) about how difficult it is to prove your innocence when you have developed a reputation in the community for creating trouble. (It seemed like a teachable moment.) The reality is that knowing what I know from the documentary alone, I wouldn’t trust this guy. But the bigger question raised by the documentary is not about him. The bigger question is, who CAN you trust?

Because I want to believe that police and investigators always follow every reasonable lead in an investigation.

Because I want to believe that anyone with a conflict of interests is smart enough to remove themselves from any involvement that might jeopardize the truth from being heard and believed in a case.

Because I want to believe that a public defender would do his best for every defendant and work for the good of his own client.

Because I want to believe that there are protocols for working with juveniles with intellectual challenges so that they are treated fairly during an investigation.

Because I want to believe that the goal of the justice system is to find the truth rather than to close a case without certainty.

And, honestly, I still believe that most of these ideas are true – most of the time. I still believe in and support all of the honest police officers, and hard-working attorneys, and selfless judges who face very difficult decisions every day. But this guy did go to prison for 18 years for a crime that he didn’t commit, so sometimes there are flaws in our system. Why is it wrong to ask questions about how we, as a society, can fix that?

The documentary also raises interesting points about what is and what isn’t admissible during a trial, what prosecutors can say publicly before a trial, how financial resources may impact the quality of legal representation, and how personalities can be more influential than facts when a jury deliberates. These are issues that most of us don’t think about much.

Unless we are on trial.

The real reason that we are squirming uncomfortably in the safety and comfort of our living rooms while watching Making a Murderer is only loosely tied to whether or not we believe this particular defendant is being honest. The reason our stomachs are in knots is because we aren’t 100% sure that we could prove OURSELVES innocent if we were falsely accused of a crime.

And if that isn’t scary and worthy of a discussion, I’m not sure what is.

A New Year’s Gift for You!

December 31, 2015December 31, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 4 Comments

hand 2016

There is nothing magical about a new year’s resolution, but I do love the freedom and promise of a fresh start. Don’t you? The transition from one year to another is a perfect time to think about the year that passed and to plan for the year ahead, if for no other reason than because you probably have a little bit of time off when you could squeeze some reflection into your busy schedule.

New year’s resolutions get a bad rap. I feel a little sorry for them, actually. They don’t fail because they are a bad idea; they fail because we call them “resolutions” when they are usually just fleeting thoughts rather than sincere commitments. We break up with our resolutions when we were never seriously dating them to begin with.

It’s not you, Resolutions. It’s us. We were just pretending.

Setting personal or family goals is a great way to model for your kids or grandkids how goal setting is really supposed to work. Put something in writing. Break big goals into smaller pieces. Post reminders where they are visible, and put checkpoints on the calendar. Encourage one another. Teach your kids the reward of accomplishing a goal, and teach them how to pick up the pieces (rather than quitting) when the train runs off the track. Because it will.

That is not called failure. That is called “real life.”

Sometimes we forget that reflecting and planning and goal setting are LEARNED SKILLS. I have taught countless high school students who have huge dreams but no goals; they are confident that they will play for the NBA or become President of the United States or earn a Ph.D., but they have no concept of the thousands of small steps that they could begin taking right now that might ultimately lead to those accomplishments. Trust me; you want your kids to have these life skills, and you want them to learn them early, you know, before they are making critical decisions about finances, marriage, parenting, careers, and dangerous temptations. You and I both know that life will test our children’s resilience over and over and over again. I want my own sons and all of my students to grow into people who are able to reflect, plan, and adapt. Isn’t that what you want for your own family, too?

As a teacher and mom, I love it when I find a fun tool to use so that I don’t have to create something myself, so here is my new year’s gift to you! Try out this printable pdf for yourself! It can be a fun starting point for both kids and adults to discuss the coming year. Talk about it over a family dinner this week, and don’t forget to contemplate the smaller steps that you and your kids can take TODAY to start reaching your goals in 2016!

Bring it on 2016

BRING IT ON 2016 PDF

HAPPY NEW YEAR! Thank you for sharing and reading!

What are your goals for 2016? Leave a comment and join the conversation!

A Broken Arm Christmas 2015

December 23, 2015January 1, 2016 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 4 Comments

This December has been nothing if not unusual at our house. First, there has not been snow on the ground here. Not. A. Flake. There are not even flurries in the air as I write this. We could be running our last-minute Christmas errands in swimsuits because it is a balmy 64 degrees in Ohio at this moment. We haven’t seen our breath since last winter, so I’m not even sure if we’re breathing. It’s scary. (But just to be clear, I’m not complaining. I’m okay with this part. This was our puppy in the snow in the middle of November last year!)

But that’s not the only difference this year. Instead of baking sugar cookies and mixing up Chex Muddy Buddies (my holiday addiction . . . it’s like Christmas crack for us law-abiding citizens), I am binge watching Christmas Through the Decades on the History Channel while delegating holiday duties to my poor kids and husband to avoid testing the limits of my broken arm. (And I swear that I totally could have written the episode about the 80’s!)

Yes, it’s my right arm. And, yes, that’s my dominant one. Merry Christmas to all of us at the Ware house.

You may be wondering how this could have happened when it has not been snowing and there is no ice on the ground. The answer is that I am clumsy, and, apparently, even clumsier on roller skates. In my defense, however, I fell only one time. There were kids flopping around all over the place on that skating rink floor, but their bones are more like saltwater taffy while mine are more like peanut brittle.

And this proves that aging is not as much a state of mind as I had hoped. It’s for real. I’m getting old. Bah humbug.

Anyway, after a long, stressful week, we took our kids to their school skating party to blow off some steam and share some quality family time. Did I mention the week had been long and stressful? That was a contributing factor, for sure. I desperately needed some joy, so with just a teeny bit of mom peer pressure, I rented those brown and orange skates and thought, why not? I mean, it only cost $6 (initially). And I really did feel like I was ten-years-old again for an hour or so. (Don’t believe my friends who will tell you that I even skate-danced a little to “Who Let the Dogs Out.” I will not confirm whether or not that is actually true.) All joking aside, it really was fun.

But maybe it should have concerned me when they made me sign a waiver before they would take my $6. That’s for real, friends. The grown-ups have to sign a waiver at the skating rink. If that shouldn’t send any right-minded adult back to the observation area, I’m not sure what should. Oh, hindsight. How you torture me. I might have been better off signing up for the skating lessons advertised at the bottom of my receipt . . . And, no, I don’t anticipate being back soon, but thanks for the invitation.

Because it started all fun like this with my kids and my friends. . .

And it ended all sad like this at the Urgent Care with my very patient husband. . .

A broken wrist. Fa la la la la, la la la la.

We have tried to remain festive with cast #1 being red and green . . .

And cast #2 being green and red . . .

Look at my poor dog in that picture. She’s silently asking, “When will this end? Will you ever take me for a walk again, Mom?”

So Christmas at our house has been different, and I have had to be okay with that. Our Christmas celebration before the huge family gatherings was no gourmet meal . . .

Our gifts look like they were wrapped by a nine-year-old because, well, many of them were . . .

(He did a really good job, I must say.)

And we are planning to leave Santa a few stale brownie bites that a sweet friend left after a party at my house last week. No fresh sugar cookies here, Santa. Sorry! Better luck at your next stop!

But, on the bright side, we have been forced to prioritize, and the basic things that we look forward to every year have all been covered. The stockings were still hung by the chimney with care . . .

My loving husband pretended to be happy while pulling all of the trees and boxes and more trees and more boxes from the crawl space since I couldn’t do it . . .

My favorite things are all in place – because I just LOVE this holiday and everything it represents to my family and my faith!

And we have spent time and will spend more time with all of the people who mean the most to us during this special season. Some of the hustle and bustle has been removed, leaving time for conversations and board games and Christmas movies and quiet time together.

This Christmas season has not gone exactly as I imagined it would, but I am learning a few things in spite of my frustration. I am learning to love online shopping and appreciate gift bags. I am learning to accept help from friends without feeling guilty about needing it. I am learning to show more gratitude for my husband’s sacrifices and to let my kids do more for themselves. And I am learning that sometimes being forced to slow down is a blessing in and of itself.

Maybe you should consider the benefits, too, without waiting for a broken arm to adjust your perspective. 🙂

From our home to yours, we wish you peace, joy, and a very merry Christmas season! Thanks for reading my blog! And if your kid gets a skateboard for Christmas, please, I beg you, don’t even try . . .

Small Town, Big Shopping: A Road Trip to Marietta

July 16, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 14 Comments

If you live in the Midwest, you may have heard of Marietta, Ohio. More than likely, if the name sounds familiar, you have stopped in this quaint town in search of a restroom and some caffeine while traveling I-77 South toward your vacation destination. You probably didn’t venture far enough from the interstate to appreciate Marietta’s unique location at the confluence of the Ohio and Muskingum Rivers. You most likely did not research the town’s historical significance or tour the beautiful campus of Marietta College or admire the ornate Victorian homes on Fifth Street as you raced to your condo with an ocean view. There’s a good chance that you didn’t pause long enough to ride on the Valley Gem sternwheeler or check out the plans for this year’s Sternwheel Festival or hike in Wayne National Forest. And these are all things that you should plan to do sometime, especially if you live within close proximity. After all, Marietta is just a few hours from Columbus, Cleveland, and Pittsburgh, an easy road trip for girlfriends in need of a relaxing retreat or a couple seeking a quiet escape.

There are many different activities related to history and the outdoors that you could enjoy if you spent a few days in Marietta, and maybe someday I will write more about those, but today I want to talk about shopping. Just shopping. Because I love shopping and because shopping at unique shops, antique stores, and small boutiques is especially fun. Stopping for good food between shops adds to the pleasure, too. The only thing that would make small-town shopping more of a treat would be having a little more money to spend doing it.

A few weeks ago, I stole several hours from a visit to my hometown to do some small-town shopping, and the day was a delight. It felt indulgent. I took my time. I searched for treasures. I looked at everything without checking my phone every few minutes. I ate delicious food without counting calories. And I talked to people, mainly the shopkeepers at both the new stores and the old Marietta landmarks. Their eyes lit up when they discussed their wares and the virtues of the river city, but their furrowed brows revealed the stress of competition with online marketing and big department stores. The day reminded me, however, that there really is no comparison. The small-town shopping experience feels special, and ordering from the Internet, well, it just doesn’t.

Not convinced? Let me show you what I found. Let me plan a day of your getaway for you. And when you visit Marietta, tell everyone that you read a blog about shopping there. Better yet, just invite me to be your guide.

First, let’s get a warning out of the way. Marietta is a relatively safe small town. Maybe this is why they give parking violations so much attention. If you find yourself parking in a two-hour parking stall, and there is a good chance that you will, then you will need to watch the time or you will be leaving town with some fantastic purchases and a not-so-fantastic parking ticket. Every couple of hours, you can simply move your car to the empty parking space that is right beside the one that you occupied before. It’s a little bit crazy. I imagine that there are some antics that one could get away with in Marietta. Parking in the wrong place at the wrong time is not one of them. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Once you have found a place to park, hopefully for the entire day, start your shopping adventure on Front Street near the Lafayette Hotel at Jeremiah’s Coffee House. Most of the downtown shops open at 10 a.m., so if you are an early riser, this is a perfect place to prepare for the day. Jeremiah’s Coffee House is a new addition to the Marietta scene, and I love its atmosphere. Be sure to try a cinnamon roll there; it is an expensive cinnamon roll, but you are on a road trip, for goodness’ sake, and it is fresh from The Sweet Stop, a local bakery that is very popular with folks around town. I also recommend a chai tea latte, but if you are a coffee drinker, this is a coffee house, so have at it. The décor is an eclectic mix of modern and vintage, the story behind the shop will melt your heart, and it is an all-around great place to begin your day.

After breakfast, you are ready to begin SHOPPING. Most of my favorite stores sit on Front Street, so just start walking! Be sure to browse ALL of the stores because this post highlights only my favorites, and there are others that may not be as familiar to me that you may love along the way.

One secret treasure in Marietta is a Front Street consignment boutique called Change of A’Dress. This is no yard sale, my friends. When I stopped by a few weeks ago, I tried on several pieces of clothing on consignment, all of which looked brand new and one of which included the original tags. I bought a beautiful gray sweater and some shiny red loafers that also appear to be new. Cha ching! What do you think?

Honestly, I could have purchased more, but this was my first stop, and I needed to pace myself. Take your time in this store and try some things on. It’s worth it, and it’s fun.

Another must-see shop is Twisted Sisters Boutique. This store has become a Marietta landmark and is known for its unique gifts and quirky style. I. Love. It. They never fail to have something interesting, and they carry an array of locally made items, as well. I could not pass up this necklace by Sissy Chick- locally made, adorable, versatile – and it matches my new sweater. It was destiny, right?

But that’s not all . . . I also picked up this painted wooden sign – just because. It sums up the way that I feel about my husband and two boys, and that says A LOT, because ice cream is good.

If you visit Twisted Sisters Boutique and you love jewelry, ask them about their new Lizzy James bracelets. They are gorgeous and affordable and will be the next big trend. I have officially added one to my wish list! Maybe next time!

Another shop that you can’t miss in this block of Front Street is Focus Boutique. This shop recently relocated and added much more stock to the (awesome bright turquoise) floor right after my shopping trip. Check out this creative display of script letters. I want three of them – my first initial, my husband’s first initial, and our last initial to decorate a wall upstairs. Again, I added this to the wish list, but these are so fun that they might have trouble keeping them in stock for me. Just think of (or check Pinterest for) all of the ways that you could decorate with these . . . It makes my heart beat faster just thinking of the possibilities!

This store is bright and fun and refreshing, so be sure to check it out. Focus also has some adorable clothes and accessories for young children, among other gift items.

At this point, if you have been taking your time in such a way that you have had to move your car to a new parking spot, you may be getting hungry. If so, I suggest enjoying lunch at Marietta Brewing Company before crossing the street for more shopping. I’m not sure why, but this restaurant just “feels” like Marietta to me. Maybe it’s because of the location near the river, or maybe it’s the mural painted on a brick wall inside that makes me nostalgic. Burgers. Fries. Beer. Enjoy!

If you are craving pizza for lunch, instead, check out The Pizza Place on Second Street. (Marietta kids don’t know how good they have it. Back in the day, we had to drive across the river to another state for a slice of this!) Also on Second Street, Tampico offers Mexican cuisine and is a quick stop if you are in a hurry. In addition, you might consider The Levee House, which provides a lovely view of the river along with your meal if you are shopping on a sunny day. There are still other options, so do your homework to find the best fit for you.

Assuming that you ate at Marietta Brewing Company, it’s time to cross the street to visit a couple of my absolute favorite shops. On the corner of Front and Butler Streets, you will find The Cook’s Shop. I don’t cook much, but this store makes me want to. You will most definitely find a gadget here that is new to you, as well as a gift in any price range for the gourmet chef in your life. You could easily browse here for a long time. Don’t forget to watch the time; you probably need to move your car again soon.

Next door to The Cook’s Shop is Simple Pleasures. This may sound creepy, but I just want to live here. Seriously. I am ready to move in whenever the owners agree (NEVER). Like The Cook’s Shop, this place is absolutely packed with merchandise, and here it is displayed in the most inviting way. Books. Journals. Home décor. Furniture. Gifts. Soaps. Lotions. Jewelry. There is really nothing in this store that I don’t love, and I’m not even exaggerating. I’ll take one of everything, thank you.

Here is one of my favorite small purchases from Simple Pleasures, a metal “W” that sits in my kitchen where I can admire it every day. I appreciate the small touches that add character to a home – and the owners of Simple Pleasures do, too. Love this store.

Again, be sure to explore every store along your path in Marietta, but definitely do not miss Brick Street Cottage. The owner “upcycles” old furniture, and her work and her vision for what “junk” can become are impressive. If you aren’t in the market for furniture, don’t worry. She also sells paint, some unique home décor items, and even some jewelry. I like decorating with letters (as discussed above), and I noticed that she does, too, so I like her style. Here is an unexpected Brick Street Cottage jewelry purchase that I absolutely love.

This ring is affordable (under $10) and makes a great gift (maybe for yourself). It stretches to fit any size, and you can purchase charms (also under $10) that snap on and off so that you can change the look of your jewelry. The snap-on charms vary; some look like gems, some have vintage charm, some are shaped like owls. The charms can also be used on necklaces (just as cute) that you can find at the store. Best of all, the owner packages it all up for you in a cute bag, so there is no need for gift wrap. Voila! (If you are a close friend of mine, please pretend that you never saw this, or at least try to forget about it by Christmas . . . Thanks!)

You will also want to venture into Schafer Leather Store because it is truly a Marietta landmark. The store originated in 1867 and is one of those rare small businesses that has survived the test of time by honoring its roots while also adapting to new consumer demands with each new decade. I consider myself more of a city dweller these days, but when I am in Schafer’s, I just want to be a cowgirl. I’m not even kidding. You can saddle up and get yourself some new boots, a purse, earrings, a knife, or some urban cowboy fashions here. If you don’t visit Shafer Leather Store, then did you really visit Marietta?

This might be a good time to walk toward the levee and admire the river for a few minutes. Take a break, relax, and then backtrack on Front Street toward Putnam. After crossing Butler Street, you will find several more shops to enjoy. Be sure to grab a snack at Putnam Street Chocolates to renew your energy. I personally prefer anything there made from chocolate, which basically covers everything in the store. Really, you can’t go wrong.

While shopping in this block, don’t miss Dad’s Primitive Workbench. This store is bigger than it looks and holds more merchandise than you would imagine from standing outside. Their claim to fame is repurposing old objects – old buckets for planters, old barrels for tables, old books for decoration. I found a barrel there that would be the perfect addition between two rocking chairs on my front porch. Add a red geranium in a galvanized bucket on top, and the display could be in Better Homes and Gardens. They also sell candles and soaps with the natural, rugged design that fits their brand. My friend bought a soap there as a Christmas gift for me, and the refreshing floral fragrance reminded me of my grandmother every time I washed my hands. Ahhhh . . . Wonderful stuff.

I suggest that you continue your shopping trip by walking around the block on Putnam Street to Second Street to Butler and back to Front. On Putnam Street, you can add an Alex and Ani bracelet to your collection at Baker and Baker Jewelers. On Second Street, visit Marietta Adventure Company. They can help you plan an outdoor adventure in Marietta for the next day or the next time that you visit!

When you have exhausted Front Street and Second Street, you can use the footbridge to cross the river to continue your small-town shopping and to experience the river from a different vantage point. This is a very Marietta thing to do. You will find the bridge at the corner of Front and Butler Streets, and it will lead you right to the heart of historic Harmar village. There are some eclectic shops here, as well, such as Found Antiques, and The Busy Bee is the kind of hole-in-the-wall diner that adventurous tourists dream of stumbling upon. Many residents say that it offers the best breakfast in town, so you may want to come back the next morning.

At the end of the day, rest your feet while you savor dinner and drinks at Austyn’s on Front Street. If crab cakes are on the menu, order them. You won’t be disappointed. If crab cakes aren’t your thing, don’t worry. There are many other options, including Austyn’s chicken, another favorite of our family. Ryan and I love to support this restaurant because the owners not only create a wonderful experience but are also friends who attended high school with us. Cheers!

I hope this convinced you to spend some time in the heart of Marietta by enjoying some shopping downtown. Be sure to do your own research, as well, before planning your road trip for a day or for a weekend getaway. There are many small businesses and restaurants there that would warmly welcome you and help you enjoy your day. And if you live in Marietta, when is the last time that you supported your downtown merchants? Maybe it is true that you don’t truly appreciate what your hometown has to offer until you say goodbye. I may no longer live in Marietta, but I promise that I will be back to do some shopping again soon.

Sternwheel Festival Photo Credit: Mike Tewkesbury https://www.flickr.com/photos/7687126@N06/2828787540/in/photolist-5iYgYY-8Y73Db-8Y41RB-5iYhF3-8Y74jd-8Y41HH-5iTZnn-8Y74yJ-fMscQq-8Y426r-8Y41B8-8Y73U5-8Y41cH-8Y42d2-8Y74Cu-8Y741U-8Y73Wf-mvh8a-tGrV2b-fMafHV-oUxm8o-8Atrsw-8CY3zn-57G3bA-6XRBKv-8BFXDa-5i1Jie-8Avs49-71ur5m-8Y41yi-8Y41E4-8Y41sP-8Y41VB-8Y73Ph-8Y41Zk-mvh88-34WwA1-fM8TrR-thB9d1-daxkaM-qJPCzu-uR262u-57q1P4-d9kQzb-4ARtEZ-57uw3s-57uuky-57qmuz-57qnp6-DYXzH

What My Father Taught Me By Fighting For His Life

June 19, 2015June 19, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 8 Comments

When my dad was born, the doctor told my grandmother that he was going to die. He had a rare congenital birth defect affecting his lower abdomen, and there was little chance that it could be surgically corrected. My grandma was advised to enjoy the brief time that she would have with her blonde-haired bundle of joy. The doctor didn’t even file a birth certificate. There was no hope. And that was that.

That may sound cold and heartless, but the doctor’s prognosis was probably reasonable for a baby born with such a rare and serious condition to a blue-collar family living along a remote gravel road in The Middle of Nowhere, Ohio, in 1950. But the doctor didn’t know that my grandma, who was already raising my dad’s four siblings and who had kept the home fires burning while my grandfather served abroad in World War 2, did not take “no” for an answer. Ever. Her tenacity in caring for that baby and her unwavering faith in God are now preserved in family legends. She refused to surrender without a fight, ultimately seeking treatment at the best children’s hospital in the state despite having little means to do so, and the fact that I exist to write this is evidence that her persistence paid off.

But this essay isn’t about my grandmother. It’s about the baby, my dad, who was immersed in a battle long before he knew what fighting for your life actually meant. First, he survived infancy, which was an impressive feat in itself. Then, after many childhood surgeries, excruciating recoveries, and months of hospitalizations far from home, he was still thriving at the age of thirteen – another milestone that doctors did not believe he would reach. (This earned him a bit of spoiling from his older siblings, one of whom actually bought him a pony. No joke.)

As soon as he was old enough, he began working full-time, insisting on exerting his independence and keeping up with – or surpassing – his peers. A few years later he was married, something he probably never imagined given his gloomy prognosis as a child. He and my mother were reminded that he would never father children, but the young couple figured there was no harm in trying, and, voila, the family grew by one girl and one boy.

Even after beating so many odds, my dad didn’t waste time contemplating old age. Why would he? He had already challenged fate so many times that expecting to qualify for the senior discount at McDonalds seemed a bit presumptuous, even to him. But last year he retired from a long and respected career as a butcher, and today his biggest smiles can be attributed to his four grandsons. I bet his younger self never, ever saw that coming.

My dad doesn’t talk much about his medical history, and he probably won’t appreciate that I am writing about it either. In fact, most of what I know has been collected in bits and pieces from my grandma, my mom, and my aunts and uncles, and only because I won’t stop asking. Maybe the stories churn up too many painful memories. Or maybe, like an old sweater, the memories have lost their shape and just don’t fit right anymore. Regardless, I know that my dad’s experiences shaped him, and, in turn, shaped me. Here’s just a sampling of the wisdom he has shared by being the man who would never give up.

Your challenges may shape you, but they don’t have to define you. Every experience has the power to shape you, to mold your spirit into something just a little different than it was before, and my dad’s childhood included some pretty traumatic experiences that certainly impacted the man he became. However, my dad’s life has never been about suffering or limitations. Over the years, he had every right to complain and to seek sympathy and to worry and to find shortcuts, but he chose not to do those things, even when he probably should have. He taught me to accept what life throws at you, grow from those experiences, and move forward. Progress doesn’t result from sitting still.
Take a lesson from man’s best friends. My dad loves animals, particularly dogs and horses. Both dogs and horses are known to be extremely loyal companions, and it is no surprise that loyalty is a quality that my dad holds in high regard. There were many times when my brother and I questioned his loyalty to people who did not reciprocate, but my dad’s values did not change depending upon who was the recipient of his kindness. I like to imagine that his independence and strong sense of right and wrong sprouted from the challenges that he faced as a kid. Whether they did or they didn’t, his example taught us to be respectful and loyal to our friends, neighbors, family, and employers, no matter what. Your own integrity is what matters; if others abuse your devotion, move forward knowing that you can rest comfortably at night while they tiptoe around the minefield that is their conscience.
You have no idea what someone else has experienced just by looking at him. My dad’s high school graduation photos reveal that he was quite a handsome catch back in the day. Today, his hair is just a little (okay, a lot) thinner, he’s added glasses to his ensemble, and he could easily blend into any grandparent scene. Unless you are a doctor who happens to examine his x-rays, you would have no idea that what is on the inside of him is not the same as what is on the inside of you. And if you ARE a doctor who happens to examine his x-rays, you will most likely make a bee line to his hospital room to ask him lots and lots of questions. It’s okay. He’s used to that.
The point is that when we see people and we think that they look okay, then we assume that they feel okay, too. And when people who look okay say that they don’t feel well, especially if the problem is chronic, we, as a culture, tend to dismiss them as whiners. If they were really THAT sick, then surely we would be able to SEE that. Maybe this is why my dad never complained, even when it was warranted, or why he dragged himself to work at times when anyone else would have stayed home. He made a habit of reminding us to be compassionate and to recognize that people face invisible battles every day. When people say they are in pain, believe them, and realize that it is probably worse than they are even sharing – because they are afraid that you will think that it is all in their head.
There are no “issues.” There are people. Politics is a common topic of conversation in our family, and that is mainly because my dad is an avid reader and watcher of political news. His politics are not based on alliance with a particular political party or a family tradition or a single point of interest. He is interested in how leaders make decisions and how they talk about people – because every political “issue” that is discussed as a big, abstract idea is really about people at the end of the day. When government assistance has helped to save your life, you understand the human side of political decisions. When you have lived in fear of losing your health insurance and bankrupting your family, you are keenly aware that “issues” are “people,” and your children understand that, too.
Don’t let anyone put you into a box. Build your own box. My dad, at a very young age, refused to climb into the box that his doctors designed for him. In his case, that box, literally, would have been buried six feet under far too soon. Instead, in a figurative way, he decided to build his own box. And when he outgrew that one, he built himself another. And then another. And then another. He made a habit of defying expectations, and he encouraged us to defy them, too. If you have to chop off a limb to fit into the box someone else has built for you, it’s time to build yourself a new box, with room to grow.
Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. If that doesn’t make you nicer, try running a marathon in them. “Walking a mile in someone else’s shoes” sounds nice and has certainly become a common refrain in character education. My dad reiterated that we all benefit when we are more empathetic toward others and when we recognize that any one of us could unexpectedly face the greatest obstacle of our lives at any time. But a mile isn’t a very long walk, really. People who live with chronic illness live with it for the long haul. Make sure that your empathy is the kind that lasts. Try not to be the friend who jumps in to fill the immediate need but forgets that the struggle doesn’t end – ever.
When you are struggling, help someone else. My dad never had a high profile job that paid a lot of money, but he was always able to provide for us and would have worked five jobs if it had been necessary to make ends meet. But no matter how much or how little we had at any given time during my childhood, he was willing to share it with someone in need. A neighbor needed help in the middle of the night? He would be there. A friend’s car broke down on the side of the road? Give him ten minutes. His co-worker needed to borrow money for gas? He had only a few dollars left until payday, but here you go. I don’t recall my dad asking for anything, but I vividly remember him giving. A lot. Even when he didn’t have much to give. Even when he could hardly stand up. Even when the person didn’t deserve it. He has helped a lot of people, but he taught us this secret truth: Helping others is a great way to help yourself.
There are lots of ways to be smart. When I was younger, I was a bit of an academic snob. My parents encouraged us to excel in school, and I enjoy learning about almost anything. (Except chemistry. I really hated chemistry.) I applied my dad’s work ethic to my studies and graduated from high school as valedictorian. Grades mattered to me, and academic knowledge seemed like a good way to compare people at the time, and I thought I was smart.
I don’t actually know much about my dad’s school years other than that his attendance wasn’t always the best. When you are in the hospital, it is hard to go to school. I imagine that his grades suffered. He did not go to college, but he learned a trade and garnered great respect for his skill. I remember a time when he was laid off from his job, and before he could even look for a new position, he received phone calls from employers who wanted his help. He was not valedictorian, but he is a smart guy. It turns out that there are lots of ways to be smart.
Now, I teach students who are considered at-risk for a variety of reasons; their grades aren’t always the best, but many of them are exceptionally smart in ways that are not measured at school. It turns out that life is full of educational experiences, and while I was smart on paper when I graduated, I wasn’t nearly as smart as I thought I was. Academics are important, but true wisdom is never assessed on a report card. My dad taught me this because, well, he’s really smart.
Work hard. Really hard. I have already mentioned that my dad is a hard worker, but this is such a central part of who he is that it demands its own spot on the list. My dad has always given more than 100%. Always. In fact, this part of his character is so intense that it is both a blessing and a curse. He missed some things because of his work ethic, and that was disappointing at times. However, I am extremely grateful that my dad taught us the pleasure of a job well done – no matter how hard the job is or how little the material reward. I am baffled by indifference and indolence. My dad taught me better.
If someone says that you can’t, just smile. But in your head say, “Just watch me.” My dad is not confrontational, but he is competitive. If he wants to figure something out, he will figure it out. If he wants to get something done, he will get it done. If he thinks that you don’t think he can do something, he will do it. He won’t argue with you. He won’t fight about it. But come back and visit in a week or two and whatever you said couldn’t be done will be finished. He just wasn’t going to tell you about it. He didn’t need to. The satisfaction was in proving that he could do it – to himself.

This is just a sampling of the lessons that I learned from my dad, a man who has always refused to give in or give up. On this Father’s Day, I am so grateful for his unfailing perseverance; it is, after all, the reason I am even here. I am also grateful that his grandchildren are still learning from him today, so many years after he was given a death sentence while swaddled in my grandmother’s arms. Thanks, Dad, for fighting the good fight and beating the odds. I will always root for the underdog because of you; those unexpected victories are so much more rewarding.

Brain Freeze? 100 Ideas for Summer Fun!

June 9, 2015June 9, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 2 Comments

HELLO, SUMMER! Oh, how I dreamed about you through winter’s icy chill. You and your gorgeous sunshine. You and your endless blue skies. You and your lush green grass and lazy evenings and beach vacations, all of the gifts that you bestow with the most delightful change of seasons.

Oh, yeah . . . And the bored children. The kids who complain (by day two) that they have absolutely nothing to do. I guess that’s your fault, too. Oh, sweet seduction! How you betray me!

Sure, there is plenty to do with the freedom of the summer months, but sometimes we all need some inspiration. To help you out, my kids and I have created a list of 100 ideas to keep you and your kids busy this summer. You can customize it to meet your own needs. We like to create a bright poster where we can mark off the things that we do, and, although we call it our “Summer Fun” list, we work on our list all year and never, ever finish. But that does not diminish the fun! If you want a more realistic summer bucket list, reduce this. Create your own poster, or write the ideas on popsicle sticks or paper strips and put them in a jar.

Do you have more ideas? If so, please leave a comment! Here we go . . .

1. Plan and record a parody or lip-sync video. You know, like the ones you see on YouTube!
2. Build forts inside with sheets and clothes pins and anything else you can find.
3. Use toothpicks and mini-marshmallows or Dots candy to build things on a rainy day.
4. Make lemonade from scratch. Set up a lemonade stand on the corner.
5. Watch a movie from the 1980’s. Tell the kids what life in the 80’s was like.
6. Put glowing neon bracelets into plastic Easter eggs. Hide them at night and enjoy a summer
egg hunt.
7. It’s pizza night! Experiment with new crusts, sauces, and toppings. Make a dessert pizza.
8. Build a fire. Let the kids burn something from the school year that has passed. Roast hot
dogs and marshmallows. Make s’mores. Talk.
9. If you have a dog, learn how to teach it new tricks. Then teach it something!
10. Write down questions to prompt dinner conversation. Who was your favorite teacher and
why? What was the scariest moment of your life? Put them in a jar. Pull one out at dinner.
11. Enjoy ice cream for dinner on a special day. (We do this on Father’s Day each year!)
12. Create a neighborhood scavenger hunt with things to find (two friends talking, a black cat, a
garden gnome, an American flag, etc.) and then take a long walk to find them.  Make it a competition if you want to.
13. Play in a creek. Catch crayfish.
14. Round up all the kids in the neighborhood and meet at school for a soccer game.
15. Too hot? Go ice skating! You will have the rink to yourselves!
16. Go bowling. Look for opportunities for kids to bowl for free.
17. Check out your town’s Visitor’s Bureau. What are you missing right where you live?
18. Plant tomatoes. Make fresh salsa together when the tomatoes are ripe.
19. Play cornhole in the backyard.
20. Attend a sporting event of some kind – little kids, college students, or professional athletes.
21. Grab a mason jar and catch fireflies at dusk.
22. Visit a farm. Feed the chickens. Ride a horse. Talk to the farmer.
23. Play with puppies at the pet store or at an animal shelter.
24. Water fight! Fill balloons and water guns!
25. Clean out closets and toys. Decide where to donate them and deliver them together.
26. Be adventurous eaters. Try a new restaurant. Maybe it will become a family favorite!
27. Just a little adventurous? Go to the family’s favorite restaurant, but agree that everyone
will order something they haven’t tried before. Critique your meals like food critics.
28. Host relay races in your backyard. Search for ideas online.
29. Sleep in tents – in the backyard or at a campground.
30. Spend a relaxing day at the pool.
31. Ride a roller coaster.
32. Hold a baby. Any baby.
33. Bake your favorite cookies. Deliver some of them to someone who needs a hug.
34. Find a strange fruit or vegetable at the grocery store.  Buy it and try it!
35. Visit the grandparents. Write questions in advance and interview them about their lives.
Write it all down or record the interviews.
36. Play flashlight tag.
37. Splurge. Buy from the ice cream truck at least once.
38. Record a “radio show.” Include commercials, news, weather, and music.
39. Exercise together. Train for a fun 5K, like a Color Run, and run together.
40. Everyone gets a $5 bill to go to yard sales. Who got the best deals?
41. Play a classic yard game, like croquet or badminton. (But no lawn darts! Yikes!)
42. Go to a drive-in movie.
43. Create a scavenger hunt at the park. Hide the clues and provide a surprise at the end.
44. Binge watch a series of movies, like Back to the Future or Jurassic Park.
45. Jump on a trampoline.
46. Visit a park. Create a plan to visit a different park every week all summer.
47. Go for your longest family bike ride ever.
48. Jump in the car for a spontaneous road trip to visit a relative who lives a few hours away.
49. Join the summer reading program at the library. Sign up for library activities, too.
50. When is the last time that you put a BIG jigsaw puzzle together? Ready, set, GO!
51. Plant herbs in a pot. Cook a meal together using the herbs you have nurtured.
52. Collect big cardboard boxes and duct tape. Let the kids build whatever they can imagine
with only those supplies (and something to cut the tape) in the backyard.
53. Get out the paints. Everyone loves to paint once in a while.
54. Raid the garage. Use stuff that you find (pool noodles, hula hoops, etc.) to create an
obstacle course in the backyard.
55. Watch a movie that is considered a “classic.” Talk about it. What was the theme?
56. Family video game night!
57. Grab a towel and the sunscreen and head to the water park.
58. Buy an ant farm or a butterfly garden. Keep a close eye on what happens there.
59. If your kids have been asking for a pet, summer is a great time to research. Let the kids
study the costs, challenges, and benefits and report back to the family.
60. Volunteer at the food pantry or anywhere that will allow children to help.
61. Decorate a friend’s driveway with sidewalk chalk for a birthday or a “welcome home.”
62. Project a movie in the backyard.  Throw down blankets. Invite kids. Make popcorn.
63. Start a summer book club as a family, or start a summer book club with friends.
64. Meet mom and/or dad during their lunch break from work. Eat out.
65. Visit a science museum. On the way home, talk about what you learned.
66. Family board game night! Each family member chooses a game.
67. Learn five words in a different language. Use them in family dinner conversations. When
everyone has mastered those, learn five more.
68. Work together to plan a cookout. Invite friends and neighbors. Build community.
69. Go retro. Go roller skating.
70. Cut postcards from empty boxes, like cereal boxes. Write notes to friends and mail.
71. Go to the zoo. If you go to the zoo often like we do, try something new there.
72. Raid the craft drawers. Give the kids a bunch of supplies in a box and let them think
of a project.
73. Introduce the children to old-school television, like Night Rider or MacGyver or Alf.
74. Browse at the local farmer’s market. Buy fresh ingredients and talk about nutrition.
75. Play in the rain. Enjoy every minute!
76. Attend a local theatrical production.
77. Let the kids write and illustrate a children’s book. Read it to a younger child.
78. Try a new flavor of ice cream. Better yet, make homemade ice cream!
79. Create cards for servicemen and women. Mail them.
80. Invite the cousins to spend a few days at your house. Play and laugh until it hurts.
81. Lie down on a blanket and study the clouds together. Use your imagination!
82. Tie dye t-shirts. It is not as hard as you might think.
83. Try a new recipe once a week. Let the kids help. Pretend you are on a cooking show.
84. Ride in a boat.
85. Start with a dart gun battle. End with a pillow fight.
86. Watch a movie from the 1990’s. Tell the kids how life in the 90’s was different.
87. Pack a picnic lunch. Eat it in your own yard or at the park or in the woods.
88. Have the kids write a script and perform a short play for the grown-ups. To make it harder,
give them a topic, a character name, and five words that they must include in the story.
89. Make a special effort to attend an event that will include lots of extended family.
90. Go to a movie on the first day that it opens.
91. Go for a hike in the woods. Look for something specific like toads or tadpoles or Big Foot.
92. Go to a fun local festival. Eat a funnel cake.
93. Snuggle up and look at picture albums. Tell stories about the kids when they were small.
Really nostalgic? Watch home movies, including your wedding video.
94. Listen to live music.  Somewhere. For free.
95. Go fishing.
96. Google search for simple science experiments. Try some!
97. Pick berries. Eat a few while you pick and a lot when you get home. Make shortcake.
98. Learn about geocaching. Try it!
99. It’s pajama day! Don’t you dare put on “real” clothes!
100. Go to a history museum. Look for something that starts with each letter of the alphabet while you are there.

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/36006949@N00/2472470734″>Pink Ball</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>(license)</a>

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photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/98652633@N00/21170004″>Herbs: Basil</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a>

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A Message to my Students on the Last Day of School

June 4, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / Leave a comment

Dear Students:

This year has been fantastic! It is hard to believe that it is coming to an end. On this last day of school, I want you to know that you and your classmates have amazed me in SO MANY ways.

I have talked to some of you often. Some of you have avoided talking to me at all costs. Some of you have shared your joys with me and made me laugh. Others have shared heartbreaking experiences that made me cry. Some of you have poured your thoughts and feelings into your writing. Some of you have worked to overcome your fears so that you can begin to reach your dreams and goals.

Some of you have made me very proud this year. Some of you have frustrated me, but only because I want you to see in yourself the potential that I see in you.

Some of you have found online school to be your perfect match. Some of you are just learning what online education is all about.

Some of you have discovered yourselves this year. Some of you have become leaders. Some of you have excelled at helping others. Some of you are still finding your unique place in the world, and that is okay, too.

All of you made progress in some way. And that is what matters most.

Before you turn off your computer for the summer, write yourself a note to read on the first day of school next year. Remind yourself how you feel RIGHT NOW. Remind yourself what you did well this year and what you want to improve. Remind yourself of a few rules that you want to set for next year – and WHY. Remind yourself that Mrs. Ware believes in you. Read your note in August, and then post it where you can see it every day. Next year will come with the same distractions and temptations, maybe even more, so it will be important to follow your own advice.

Most importantly, believe in yourself. I will miss you next year, but I know that you must move forward in order to accomplish the great things that your life has in store. Stop holding yourself hostage. Stop letting your fears hold you back. LET YOURSELF do great things. Give yourself permission to DO better. Give yourself permission to BE better. Give yourself permission to BE SUCCESSFUL, even if no one else is telling you that it can happen.

IT CAN HAPPEN.

BELIEVE IT.

WORK TOWARD IT.

And be sure to tell me what you accomplish!

I am grateful that I had the opportunity to teach you. Thank you for a great year!

Sincerely,

Mrs. Ware

Some Moments Cling To You

May 21, 2015May 22, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 3 Comments

*I wanted to write something in honor of Teacher Appreciation Day, and here’s what happened. I dedicate it to my student, and to all of the teachers who carry their work – the seen and the unseen – home with them at night.*

When I was teaching in brick-and-mortar classrooms, I lugged a heavy bag of books, lesson plans, and ungraded essays to my car every afternoon after school. And people noticed that bag. They couldn’t miss it, really. They would sigh or smile or shake their heads when they saw it, the evidence that my job was important, that my school day did not end at 3:00.

The books, the plans, the papers – those were conspicuous. Everyone saw them. But the invisible burden that I carried home as a teacher often weighed much more. The questions that haunted my quiet moments. The concerns that intruded when I lay down at night. The moments that replayed over and over again on the video reel in my mind. Had I done enough? Could I have done better? Were all of my students safe and warm and well-fed at night? Had I left any children behind that week? How could I be more and do more for my class in the future?

I remember one typical morning, now so many years ago. My classroom was abuzz with students, chirping greetings to one another, trading stories with loud voices and dramatic gestures before the first school bell rang. Teenagers surrounded my podium at the front of the room, sharing anecdotes with me while I mentally reviewed my plans for the day ahead.

“Mrs. Ware, I actually heard something about Edgar Allen Poe on The Simpsons last night! I’m not even kidding!”

“Mrs. Ware, I didn’t finish my homework, but, I swear, you will NEVER believe what happened!”

“Mrs. Ware, did you hear about the track meet yesterday? We did awesome!”

“Mrs. Ware, my mom is going to kill me if I don’t pass English! You have to help me!”

One by one, I addressed their concerns, and, one by one, they shuffled back to their seats, still chatting, organizing their papers before our day officially began.

And then the last girl, a quiet girl, a girl who normally avoided drawing attention to herself, was the only one left at the front of the room while her classmates talked and giggled in the background. I smiled warmly, wondering what had lured her from the safety of the periphery.

“How can I help you?” I asked her, but she seemed reluctant to answer, maybe a bit regretful, as if she had moved her pawn too quickly and now wished she could change course.

After a pause, finally, she spoke. “I . . . Mrs. Ware, I was going to tell you . . .”

And just before the words could overflow, she hesitated again. Her sweet face, staunchly loyal, kept her secrets – but her eyes betrayed her. There, pain twisted and danced in oily swirls. It was brazen, whirling, flashing, taunting, while her words took shape.

She summoned her courage and, softly but firmly, spoke the words that I did not expect: “Mrs. Ware, I have the same problem you do.”

I looked at her, and I thought about it, and I had absolutely no idea what she meant.

The front of the room was suddenly a bit less comfortable, the air a little harder to breath, because I could not respond to her until I understood what our problem was. She could tell that I was struggling to answer, and she was uncomfortable, too, so she rescued me, or maybe rescued us, by offering a lifeline. Words were not her favorite, but her eyes were still talking, and I needed help, so I followed them. I watched attentively as they descended slowly from my face – to my neck – to my shoulders – to my big, round orb of a belly, firm and heavy and eight months.

“I have the same problem you do,” she said.

And those words that had been hanging, suspended in the air, now smashed to the floor and shattered like glass. And my heart fell, bruised and broken, with them.

Because I had been caught off guard, at this time and in this place, with a classroom full of students and first period about to begin and a bachelor’s degree in English that did not prepare me for this moment. Because her pain stabbed me, and it hurt, and I felt for just that moment the fear coursing through her veins. Because I wanted to fix things for her, for all my students, that I knew I could not fix. Because I imagined that Hardship had been her companion for a while now – and that he wasn’t going anywhere soon.

And because my baby, the tiny acrobat inside me, had been a prayer, a dream, and a plan, but never “a problem.” Those words stung. And I thought about how both of us had sobbed over a pregnancy test, but our tears had sprung from very different wells.

And because I was reminded that academics only matter to humans if we first meet their most urgent needs – and that is daunting – because every day in every classroom there are students whose needs are great, and only some of them will share.

At school and in life, most moments pass, one by one, with little notice or consequence. At the end of the day, you know that seconds, minutes, and hours elapsed, but in the whirlwind of planning the seconds, minutes, and hours to come, what is over is often quickly brushed aside. But, like the fine threads of a spider’s web, certain moments entangle you. They cling to your skin, and you cannot easily shake them off. They will not leave you.

That one moment, when a student and I shared all of the joy and the sadness and the fears of being human, will never leave me. It remains crisp and vivid on the video reel in my mind and still visits me when I am quiet. What followed that moment, however, is cloudy. I remember that she talked. I remember that I listened. Time passed quickly. My family grew. The school year ended.

And I never saw her again.

I don’t know if she remembers that moment when our lives collided in such a personal way, but I hope that she understands, now that she is all grown up, how deeply I cared. I hope that she knows, whatever I may have said, that she mattered more to me than commas and semicolons and sentence fragments. I hope that she knows how much I appreciate that she invited me in, that she allowed me to view the world, and my own experiences, through a different lens; it was a defining moment for me, a moment that shaped me as a person and as a teacher.

Most of all, I hope that she is well, that she is loved, that she is happy – but I accept that I will never know. Over a thousand faces have passed through my classrooms across different schools and different states, and it is impossible to follow them all. I often think of those faces and wonder about the adults they have become. I wonder how they remember our years together, whether certain moments cling to them, too.

So many of my memories are a blur, but some moments refuse to leave me. And for those ones, the ones that cling, I am grateful.

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Want To Be a Part of The Next Post?

May 4, 2015May 4, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / Leave a comment

Hi, Friends!

I want to do something fun on my blog for Mother’s Day, but I need you! Ask your kids (of all ages) some or all of the questions below. You can even answer them yourself. Send me the answers by Thursday if you would like to contribute to the post (ware.maryann614@gmail.com). If I use any of the answers that you send, I will include first name and age only (Carson, age 9). Thanks!

1. If my mom becomes famous, it will be for…
2. One thing that makes my mom different from other moms is…
3. My mom always says…
4. One thing my mom doesn’t like is…
5. My mom laughs when…
6. I want my mom to teach me to…
7. My favorite thing to do with my mom is…
8. I know my mom loves me because…
9. One way that I am proud to be like my mom is…
10. Something I want my mom to know is…

When the French Fries Start Talking

May 1, 2015May 2, 2015 / Still Chasing Fireflies / 4 Comments

No, I wasn’t hallucinating. The French fries just wouldn’t shut up . . .

Last week was a stressful week for me.

I know, I know; my life leaves little room for complaining. No one in my family needed a heart transplant. The bank didn’t call to say my identity had been stolen. I didn’t have to buy a pregnancy test and then peel my husband off the floor. There were no fires, no flooded bathrooms, no broken bones.

But my dog DID chew through an important cable cord. And laundry WAS piled to the ceiling. And I HAD promised my son that I would go on a field trip to discover that my work schedule did not want to cooperate. And my job HAD been a little crazy. And we DID have a very busy weekend ahead that included soccer games (Mom, my uniform is dirty!) and a wedding (Ack! I forgot to pick up the gift!) and a road trip (Are we taking the dogs? Will everything fit in the car? Did everyone pack enough clean underwear?).

It was an ordinary I-have-entirely-too-much-to-do-and-I’m-not-doing-a-good-job-at-any-of-it kind of stress. The kind of stress that tightens every muscle in your body except the ones that make a smile. The kind of stress that releases “scary mommy” from her cage way too soon. The kind of stress that I continued to press down and compact, like the garbage under the kitchen sink that might wait one more day if I can smash it just enough.

So back to the French fries.

It was a stressful week, and by Friday night, the boys and I had no choice but to run some errands, a task that ranks somewhere between scooping dog poop and eating asparagus on their list of things to avoid. Fast food offered a viable solution to a couple of problems; we needed to eat, I had no time to cook, and the prospect of a burger and fries made running errands more palatable for my kids (don’t EVEN judge me). We slid into the booth, and all was well.

Until the French fries started talking.

Eating out AGAIN this week? REALLY? Are you going for a record here?
This wouldn’t have happened if you had thought ahead.
You know you could have planned better.
You like your kids, right? Do you see any vegetables on this table?
And I think you exercised once this week. Yep. Just once. Failed again! Ha!
And you knew this weekend would be busy. Why didn’t you do more to prepare?
And why can’t you be more organized?
And why can’t you keep up with everything?
What’s wrong with you, anyway?
How do the OTHER MOMS handle all of this so much more efficiently than YOU?

I swear the French fries started it, but then I jumped in with the ole’ one-two punch. Beating myself up is a skill I have honed with years of extensive practice. So there I sat, with a self-inflicted black eye, staring at a heap of French fries, each one representing another flaw, another failure. My stress had overflowed into a cardboard container full of mistakes.

“Mom, can you help me open this ketchup?” The request snapped me out of my greasy haze.

Why SHOULD I waste a rare sliver of uninterrupted time with my boys reveling in my own self-destruction, not enjoying the moment, completely oblivious to their presence? In reality, after a stressful week, this date with them was exactly what I needed, even if it did include a grossly unhealthy meal. And it hit me:

Some weeks you deserve a gold star JUST for surviving.

No matter how many French fries you fed your children. No matter how much you wish you had handled things differently. No matter how many promises you made to do better next week.

You survived that week? Well done, my friend. Well done.

Fist bump with fireworks.

Those fries were actually quite delicious, maybe because each bite was tinged with sweet revenge. The boys and I enjoyed some funny conversations about our week, and I gave myself permission to soak up the joys of the chaotic weekend ahead . . . to savor every bite of wedding cake without remorse . . . to relish my favorite hometown pizza . . . to accept that sometimes exercise doesn’t fit into my agenda, and that’s okay . . . to laugh and relax with family and friends despite the list of things I needed to do at home and at work.

No, responsible people can’t write off bad choices EVERY week, but life is stressful, and sometimes survival is an accomplishment in itself.

Sometimes it’s okay to break the rules.

Sometimes it is necessary to give yourself a break.

Sometimes it’s enough to feed your family by running through the drive-thru.

Just remember to eat the French fries first – before they have a chance to start talking.

photo credit: French Fries Burger King Food Macro February 12, 20111 via photopin (license)

Still Chasing Fireflies

~ in pursuit of the bright lights that dare to challenge the darkness ~

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When the French Fries Start Talking

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