BOS, round 2.

I've actually been working on a couple of posts the past few days, but suddenly my writer's fingers demanded a detour.  Unfortunately, it's to revisit an old, painful, unhealed wound.  (These metaphors are terrible.  I'm out of creative juice.)  Anyway--

You remember this whole mess from the spring, right?  And this?  And this?

Well, here's a quick and dirty summary of the current state of affairs (written by someone else, edited by me):

The School Board has reached a desperate point this year and will have to make decisions that will affect you, your family, your livelihood and your wallet.

Due to the under-funding of the school system, the School Board is now forced to decide between the following options. The one chosen will be implemented this school year, beginning in January 2013.  Options include:

• Operating the schools only four days a week (longer days) which would mean no sports or practices could be held on that closed day. Closing the schools would also create potential day care challenges for many parents.
• Additional furlough days for employees
• Eliminating all spring 2013 Virginia High School League sports.
• Closing C. Elementary which has 119 students and eliminate its 12 staff members.
• Closing C. Elementary which has 191 students and eliminate its 12 staff members.

One or more of these options will be implemented on Jan 1, 2013

...and here's my response. Again. 

Dear Board of Supervisors,

Your continued failure to make sound decisions regarding the health and welfare of our public school system is appalling.  I am angry that you, once again, did not approve the funding necessary to support the needs of the county's students and staff.  When the Superintendent approached you last week to request $308,000 for the sustainability of the schools, the only correct response would have been a resounding yes.  Instead, there was a single motion followed by the deafening silence of the devastation and destruction you're causing.

None of the options currently being weighed by the School Board are viable options, because every option will result in catastrophic effects on this community.  Furloughing underpaid teachers is unacceptable, particularly coupled with the increase in insurance the teachers have been forced to bear.  Closing the smaller schools is unacceptable, as the number of students per teacher has already increased since you first slashed the school budget in the spring.  Lengthening the school day and moving to a four day week is unacceptable for myriad reasons, including the fact that a good number of students rely on free and reduced breakfast and lunch, every day, for their nourishment.  Eliminating transportation for students is unacceptable, because those who need to be at school the most will have the hardest time getting there. 

Your continued failure to fund the schools demonstrates your complete lack of commitment to the children in this county and to their sound educational futures.  Please hear me loudly and clearly: your actions are unconscionable.  You do not represent the majority of the individuals who elected you into the office you now hold.  You have made, and are continuing to make, the most egregious budgetary and financial errors.      
Yet you, the Board of Supervisors, again have the opportunity to do the right thing.  You have the opportunity to approve additional funding for the 2012-13 school year and avoid creating even more crippling effects on our students and staff. 

Nothing is more important than your provision of $308,000 for the sustainability of our schools. 

Sincerely,

Anne S. Carter 

 

Embarking on the Known World

Because the Most Ridiculous National Holiday Ever afforded us an extra-long weekend, we made like Columbus and embarked on an adventure to the known world... of camping a local favorite campsite.  (We did not, however, claim to discover anything new, nor chart the course for other ships to bring ruin to the peaceable Natives inhabiting the land...) In hindsight, I find it positively amazing that we ever embarked on a second - let alone eighth or ninth - camping trip after that first ill-fated affair some 3 1/2 years ago. 

Oh, how the times have changed!  Most notably, this camping trip didn't include a single raindrop.  Not one.  I believe this is a Carter Camping Miracle, in fact!  The weather was positively glorious, perhaps the finest weather we'll see this fall.  It was warm and breezy during the day, cool but not cold at night.  The leaves had just started to change, promising more brilliant days of color ahead.

Our tent was cozy and warm, and since I had my very own sleeping bag this time and didn't have to share with Pax and his youth-sized bag, each of us slept better those two nights in the tent than we sleep in our own beds at home - I know, right?  So hard to believe, but so true.

We took the canoe this time, which was one of the biggest highlights of the trip.  As we paddled, both Jeff and I were deeply nostalgic about the many canoe memories we enjoyed in our younger days.  Jeff loves to recount the stories of the 21-day canoe trip he took for several summers through an amazing camp in Quebec.  My own memories from being a camp counselor and taking kids on overnight canoe trips are particularly fun to tell to my own children, but most especially do I love telling them about my canoe trips with my family.  Whenever I was partnered with my father (which was usually), I sat in the front to "navigate" and "help paddle."  I interpreted this to mean "deliberately direct the steerer to forge ahead into shallow, rocky paths in the river for the sheer joy of getting stuck, possibly capsizing, and listening to the mock harrumphing and annoyance that ensued."  This was my modus operandi every. single. time.  Did my dad ever catch on to my antics, or was he possibly as amused by my mischief as I was?

After giggling uncontrollably upon hearing this tale, I could tell Aidan was trying to do the same in our two manned canoe.  Lucky for me, it's hard to get stuck in a wide-bottom canoe in a lake.

Another highlight was that friends of ours also camped at the same site, and our visits overlapped for one night.  What a perfect coincidence!  The 8 kids between 3 families skipped rocks, went on a scavenger hunt, attempted to find a geocache (ha!  It was never found, despite two overly determined fathers), played on the playground and ran the beach together, and generally made for a wonderful and relaxing time for the grown ups.  Relaxing!  Great sleep!  No rain!  Was this for real?

Well, yes, it was still very real.  We still made the "if you don't stop this minute we'll pack up our stuff and go home IMMEDIATELY" threat once each day.  Our box oven brownies?  FAIL.  And I didn't even touch them, so I can't be blamed like last time when I added glowing wood tinder to the box instead of adding more charcoal, resulting in a decidedly smoked flavor.  We totally forgot to bring the brand-new rain/sun/shelter tent cover we bought specifically for this trip.  Jeff, ever the one to lecture me on not over-packing, managed to bring not one...not two...not three... but FOUR pairs of shoes for a three day excursion.

It was a great trip.  We came home happy and deep-down fulfilled by our time outside, together, with friends, as a family.

Some photos (I took 257.  I spared you all but this dozen):

Fresh flowers, festive tablecloth, fantastic beer.  Does it get any better than this?

Aidan was such a rockstar on this trip - so helpful, so careful, so willing.

Nightcrawlers

Look what I caught in the lake!

Trying to beat his mom in a footrace!

Look at this awesome little baby!

This is one of the most genuine pics we've ever taken.  This was "a moment"!

Anonymous oarsmen

Notice my position in the boat - once a coxswain, always a coxswain!

Leo's photo idea:  throw leaves up when the camera goes off.  This took five tries to get the timing right!

"Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile."  -William Cullen Bryant

 

Gold Stars & Blue Belts

It was a big weekend for Aidan.  On Friday, he was awarded the "Student of the Month" award for September.  His principal visited his class to present the award, which came with a free large pizza from Papa John's.  I love that Aidan is such a good student, but even above working hard and doing well, I love the unquenchable thirst for knowledge and understanding he demonstrates.  

 

Then on Saturday, after 6 1/2 (!!!) loooong, agonizing, grueling hours, Aidan earned his blue belt in karate.  This is the first "advanced" belt, and we're so proud of Aidan for his commitment to karate and his dedication to earning the belt, even when he was exhausted and drained from the demands of the blue belt test. 

Eventually, Aidan will earn a high blue belt, then a purple belt, then three different ranked brown belts before working toward the highly respected black belt (and all its ranks).  But today, I couldn't be happier for him or more proud of his hard work and dedication - both at school and outside of school as well.  

We are so proud of you and so happy for you, Aidan Paul!

Favorite Things: Happy 3rd Birthday, Pax!

A party just isn't a party unless it has a theme is my general opinion of celebrations and festivities.  Hence, although our birthday celebration for sweet Pax this year was family-only, I was plagued with guilt because a "real" party should have a theme.

I had a theme, but two wise friends and one very convincing mother talked me out of it - my theme was "Go to Chuck E. Cheese."  We've never taken the kids, and I figured it would be fun for them - but the gasps of horror when I announced this plan coupled with the fact that my mother kept telling me that my father was asking her, "Did I really agree to go to C.E.C., or was that just a nightmare I had?"  - convinced me to consider alternatives.

Finally, I settled on a new theme and a better plan - a "Favorite Things" party.  We would do all of Pax's favorite things, all on one day, one right after another.

So we had pizza at a fun restaurant with a small arcade in the back (a nod to my original plan of Chuck E Cheese.):

We headed to one of the best playgrounds in town, one we don't get a chance to go to all that often, but always enjoy:

Pax's new best friend, Skippyjon Jones, was thrilled to join in every adventure.....

We attempted a group photo. (Betcha didn't know that one of Pax's favorite things is group photos...!)  But Leo was in a total funk, and it took eleven shots to get just two with all of us in it.  Totally entertaining for everyone at the park who watched us beg, plead, coax, and cajole Leo into joining us.  Imagine my annoyance, therefore, to discover that the ISO setting was way too high on the camera, and all of said pictures were blurry.  (Or blurry because of the ISOL setting - that would be In Search Of Leo....)

We headed to a local orchard for apple picking, running around, and generally having a good time.  But the orchard was packed; we were all in our church clothes, still; and there were two mean boys determined to torment the already-fragile Leo.  (Not even my meanest stink-eye nor giving them a bit of a MamaBear what-for deterred them from calling him "buttcheek" and "little wimp.")  We enjoyed a quick snack of apple cider and apple cider donuts (still warm and so fresh!) and then escaped the madness of the apple orchard.

Next we took a ride on the golf cart out to the boat for a boat ride (favorite things, remember?) and it was simply a gorgeous day on the water.  I love these times on the lake, because of the imminent change - the leaves just starting to show their colors; the air, blowing in cool gusts, suggesting colder days ahead; the water, calmer and quieter now that summer has ended.  Our three year old driver impressed us with his skill behind the wheel:

We topped the night off with hot dogs and cheese doodles, then had cake and ice cream:

One of my favorite things?  is him.  My baby.  My sweet Pax boy.  Who asked for a "hold onto" instead of "drumettes" or "chicken leg" when I served rotisserie chicken the other night at dinner.  Who announced, clearly and carefully at dinner that same night during good part/bad part, "My best part was yous clean my room for me" - this on the heels of me spending the entire day immersed in swapping out clothes according to seasons and sizes, purging paperwork unearthed from closets stored the day we moved into the house, and largely ignoring the small boy who helped himself to candy corn, poured himself some Diet Coke, and stacked couch cushions up in the kitchen, just to see what was on the countertops.  Who, on that same day, saw with apparent relief that my own bed was finally cleared off and exclaimed, "Yay yay!  Yous bed is clean now, yay yay!"  Who says "yous" all the time instead of "you."

Happy Birthday, Pax, Augustus.  I love this first photo of you because of the unmistakable emotions evident in my own face: relief; joy; gratitude; love. Mostly, this photo says to me, "I am so glad you are here. I cannot imagine my life without you...." We are even more smitten with you now than we were in those first few moments together.

 

Big Red Rock Eater

This past summer, I lamented to anyone who would listen that one of the things I dreaded most about Leo starting Kindergarten was that he was my buddy who chatted with me all day long; once he was off to school, who would fill the silence of my days?

I should have known all along how Pax-filled my days would be.

One year ago, as he neared his 2nd birthday, Pax had approximately 20 words and signs - his expressive language was more like a one year old than a two year old.  We started speech therapy in November, and progress was slow.  Hoping but not expecting to see a huge change when he had tubes placed in his ears in February, we only observed how much more he noticed in the noisy world around him.  Those months were long, and frustrating, and largely quiet.

In June, after making a giant leap in expressive speech, we were happy to realize that Pax was using nearly 200 words or so.  Two months later, his expressive vocabulary grew to include nearly 400 words.  He began to string together multiple words to form sentences and mimicked multisyllabic words like "emulsifier" (thanks to his beer brewing daddy, of course.)

And then this weekend, even more emerged in his speech: the jokester, the comedian, the funny guy who finally has enough language to deliver the punch lines to his most adoring fans.

What is big and red and eats rocks?

Car Talk and Driveway Moments

I am helpless when it comes to directions; my internal compass rose is something more like a wildflower.  Driving through town today with Pax as my co-captain, I turned on the GPS to help me navigate through the confusing grid of streets.  Yet as I got my bearings, I didn't like the route that Amelia was giving me (my nickname for the Garmin), so I ventured off the beaten path.

"Turn left, then turn left!" Amelia implored when she sensed my detour.

"Turn left, then turn left!" she repeated, with urgency uncommon in a pre-programmed voice.

"Turn left, THEN TURN LEFT!!!"  my co-captain shouted from the back seat.  TURN LEFT, THEN TURN LEFT!!"  

I love that stop-me-in-my-tracks feeling when Pax so clearly articulates a new phrase, a new mimic, a new command.  I love the tiny, careful, deliberate voice that fills the quiet of my days at home.  On our adventures around town, I love our car talk.

(...and yet, might I add, I feel equal parts awe - and exasperation - with the fact that even nearly-3-year-old Pax believes the electronic gadget is smarter than his very own mother. Humph.)

**************************************
NPR published a book of stories titled "Driveway Moments."  They're the stories that make you sit in your car after you've arrived at your destination.  You stay and listen, because you can't bear not knowing the end.  I love these driveway moments.

Similarly, I've begun to enjoy the fleeting moments in the car that are filled with insight and information from a budding tween.  This age group, and especially teens, are notorious for clamming up despite your best open-ended questions - yet seem to come alive, miraculously talkative and uninhibited, when trapped traveling in a car.  Yesterday, I could tell that Aidan was troubled by something, but I couldn't figure out what it was, despite my best queries.  On the way to karate, just the two of us in the car, he was quiet, then asked, "So there wasn't a plane that hit the White House, right?" I instantly knew what lay so heavy on his heart.  At school, they had discussed the terrorist attacks of 9/11/01, and he was desperately trying to make sense of it.  I felt so torn, wanting Aidan to feel safe and protected, yet wanting Aidan to emerge from our shelter just a bit, to begin to learn of the injustice, the hatred, the sorrow, the reality of the grown up world. He asked questions; I answered them as best I could in that driveway moment. 

Another day, on another ride, Aidan asked me, "Do you think that animals have souls?"  I stammered and stuttered, trying to explain my answer, feeling inadequate and unprepared.  My driveway moment came to a screeching halt - you know, the kind where you go just a little too fast into the parking spot, and everyone holds their breath to see if you're going to hit something...?  Later, the next morning, I broached the question again, more prepared this time with an answer.  He was eager, receptive, ready to talk again, ready to share his perspective.  We swapped our favorite pet stories, wondered aloud about where pets of the past might be, before unceremoniously segueing back into the morning routine: did you make your bed?  where are your shoes?  Please close that door behind you.  Keep your hands to yourself!  Put that stick down!  Pax, stop hitting your brother!  Come on, we are going to miss the bus if we don't hurry!    

Oh, I love these driveway moments.

Anne Carter, M.Ed.

Do you know how long I've wanted to write that?!?!?! 
Anne Carter, M.Ed.  There.  I did it again. 

I picked up my diploma and my parents threw me a big party, so now it truly feels official. 

 Outside Curry, the only buildings in which I ever had class... thank goodness.  Even though I was a student at UVA for 5 1/2 years, I remained lost and disoriented on campus, every. single. time!  Maybe I should have taken a geography class while I was at it? 

 This building was completed during the time I was a student there.  I absolutely love the Palladian windows, and my best/hardest/most challenging class ever met around a big conference table, right beside that window. 

Jeff and Pax went with me when I picked up my diploma.  Most embarrassingly, Jeff had a kazoo in his pocket and took it out to play Pomp and Circumstance when I collected my diploma from the University Registrar.  They were not amused, and neither was I.  He made up for it, though, for taking me out to lunch.

**********************************
A longer, more elaborated version of the toast I offered at the party:

From the very start of my Master’s program in 2007, I didn’t quite fully believe I would ever see this day.  That first fall semester, the road ahead seemed so long, and so lonely.  I was unique among my peers in that I was a part-time student but a full-time mom.  I wasn’t fresh out of college, like some, and I wasn’t a seasoned teacher with decades’ worth of experience, like others.  In the beginning, juggling the demands of a baby and a preschooler and hoping for another down the road, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to manage being Mom and Student.  Yet my parents, particularly my mother, had already paved the way through their own examples.  Both of them earned advanced degrees when I was a kid.  Apparently their method worked:  in 2009, my brother finished his Master’s, juggling the needs and demands of his own growing family.  Finally, it was my turn. 

 The journey was indeed long, sometimes lonely, sometimes filled with tears, often rewarding.  When I think back to this time, I will remember two professors in particular who challenged me and pushed me and helped me thrive.  I will remember several classmates with whom I shared triumphs and tribulations.  Above all, I will remember those who supported me in the long and incredible journey:  my friends.  And my family. 

You, Friends, who were so generous in allowing me to use your children as guinea pigs in the many practical applications I was required to do for each coursework requirement.  You listened to me rant about this particular assignment or that demanding professor, and you asked how my classes were going.  You consulted me for advice on book selections or reading strategies, allowing me to test out my newly-learned literacy language.  You supported me, you encouraged me, you cheered for me, and when in doubt of what to say to me – you recommended I go enjoy a glass of wine.

And my family.  This journey would have been impossible without you.  Aidan, Leo, and Pax, you were so patient with me, both when I needed to study, and when I needed to use you as test subjects.  You kept me company in the basement as I read and wrote papers, quietly playing with trains or, as one photograph reveals, sleeping on my back in the Ergo as I typed.  You were excited to hear about my teachers and classmates, and were proud to tell your friends that I was a student, too.  Mom and Dad, you cheerfully and tirelessly provided child care, week after week, so that I could attend class or work on a paper. You celebrated with me after every big assignment or class was finished, and you reminded me how to dust myself off and keep going when I was discouraged and frustrated.  You led by example in your own pursuits, and I am proud to follow in your footsteps.  And Jeff – you are my biggest supporter, my loudest cheerleader, my most trusted partner.  Everything I’ve said about the support of our friends and our family describes you, tenfold.  I am humbled by your endless commitment and support of my education.  You helped me fulfill a dream, one that started in our earliest years together.  You never doubted that this day would arrive.      

Henry David Thoreau implored, “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.”

Thus, it is because of each of you here today that I was able to go in the direction of my dream, and it is because of you that I am living the life I had imagined:  a life full of friends, rich with family, a dream, actualized.  I will never be able to say it enough: thank you.