The end for now . . .

And now, the end is here

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I’ll say it clear

I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain . . .

I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption

I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way

***

And so, I think it’s time to take my blog back and get back to my mostly light and fluffy blog posts about life, the universe and everything – from the perspective of one person, one parent, one wife, one friend, one woman, one citizen, one taxpayer, one voter, one American, one Mid-Western girl twice removed – from me.

Political activism is exhausting.  Who knew?

It’s not to say that I won’t follow up on the lunacy that I’ve learned is going on behind closed doors, just down the street, in the classrooms and meeting rooms in my little town, but for now, I rest.  I’ve learned a lot.

I’ve learned that the students in our towns are phenomenal people who support their classmates and have integrity, character, compassion and a strong sense of pride.

I’ve learned that the parents of those kids are intelligent, respectful, civil and neighborly.  With very few exceptions, those who engaged in discussion on this blog have done so in the spirit of healthy debate.  Kudos to you all and thank you for your contributions.

I’ve learned that no matter how often the mainstream media and so many of our public figures like to espouse their anti-American rhetoric — we are still, as a country, on the whole, flag-waving patriots who support our soldiers and embrace the principles of freedom for which those soldiers sacrifice to protect.

I’ve learned that the common sense and common decency of the common man has little chance of defeating the bureaucracy of big unions.  I’ve also learned that the Massachusetts Teachers Association will bankrupt every town and every city  in this state before we finally question and challenge their existence.  Talk about the power of the machine . . .

I’ve learned that it is true that one voice can be heard and can make a difference.

I’ve learned that the misguided, misplaced voices and actions of two teachers can have profound and lasting effects on not only their own community, but on the world.  And how sad and terribly unfortunate that they have so poorly [mis]represented their peers, because . . .

I’ve learned that there are far more teachers in this country (and I heard from teachers from all corners) who honor, respect and take very seriously the responsibilities of their chosen profession than those who put their own interests first.  These teachers work hard every day to uphold the basic principles of putting their students first, of teaching and not preaching, of educating and not indoctrinating, of facilitating a student’s ability to learn how to think and not what to think.  There are great teachers here and elsewhere who I respect a great deal.

I’ve learned a lot.  Thank you for coming along for the ride.

Those were the days, my friend. I thought they’d never end.

And now, here we are, and my adorable, curly blond-haired, little boy is all grown up.  Next year, Spencer enters his senior year in high school.  He must be a screaming genius because he was in first grade last year.  It seems like that anyway.

I used to worry because he wasn’t able to jump up and down on one leg at the estimated average age (yes, this was actually something gauged by his daycare center!).  Now I worry about him being a good driver.

I used to worry about him being bitten [again] by that mean little toddler who used to bite.  Now I worry about him getting his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

I used to worry that he would never learn to say his Rs properly.  Now I worry about him learning to handle his finances properly.

There are no shortage of worries when you’re a parent.  But I am absolutely amazed at the rewards and satisfaction that comes in the end.  I’m not much the mommy-type.  I don’t really like kids that much.  I was never one of those girls who couldn’t wait to grow up, get married and have a whole slew of children.  I’m almost never giddy over seeing cute little kiddies in restaurants or malls.  And I never wanted to be the mom that had all the kids over at my house.  Eww.  Just wasn’t me.

While I was pregnant, I read the pregnancy bible (What to Expect When You’re Expecting) and was very pragmatic about all the preparations.  Then I went to the hospital to have this baby (in on a Tuesday, out on a Thursday – almost exactly 48 hours), and suddenly there was this skinny, little alien creature in my arms and those silly people at the hospital actually looked confident and nonchalant about letting me just trot right out into the world with it.  I kept looking over my shoulder to see if someone was going to stop me and take it back.  You know how when you get the most fabulous pair of shoes or the perfect dress for $6 and you feel like you shoplifted it?  Same thing.

The first year of my son’s life was very easy for me.  He was the best baby in the whole world.  Yep.  The best.  He slept well, breastfeeding was a breeze, he wasn’t colicky, he was generally a very low-maintenance baby.  After I got over the initial shock and weirdness of knowing that somehow I brought this little person into the world [out of me!] and now I had to keep it alive and safe and clean and fed – and I learned that I really was capable of manning these responsibilities, sans mommy instinct – well, that first year was pretty easy.  I think of that time as the “grab and go” time.  I could grab Spencer and his diaper bag and go anywhere.  He wasn’t walking yet, so he stayed where he was put and he was always happy.

The toddler years were mostly a blast.  He was still a really easy child and adapted well to pretty much everything.  Those were the years where I was most amazed to see the world through such different eyes – through learning-about-everything-for-the-very-first-time eyes.  Anyone who has spent time around toddlers knows exactly what I mean.  It’s a very cool time indeed.

Grade school and middle school years were definitely the toughest.  It hurt to watch my son experience such real emotions for the first time.  All of a sudden, he was experiencing the world on his own, away from the safety and security of the unconditional love of his parents.  Grade school and middle school is when kids learn that everyone doesn’t like them, that they aren’t the best at everything, that everything isn’t always fair, and they start seeing themselves not through the eyes of their loving parents – but through the eyes of how they think teachers and other kids see them.

High school was better.  Spencer sort of came into his own and found his footing in high school.  He’s still too hard on himself, but he is also much more sure of himself and he seems comfortable with who he is.

I spent a lot of my son’s childhood in quiet worry (the kind that just sort of loiters in the door frame down the hall in the back of your mind, smoking a cigarette, waiting for you to glance back over your shoulder and pay it some attention – ever present).

The last few years have been a lot like watching a balloon very slowly inflate, blow-by-blow.  Little by little, Spencer was filling out into the man he will become.   It’s true what they say about teenagers and toddlers being similar.  Big changes come in spurts.  There are periods of quiet between those spurts but the spurts are exciting and scary at the same time.

It is remarkable how quickly the time has passed through all the stages of my son’s childhood.  Now, instead of being acutely aware of all of the firsts in his life, I am ever more aware of the lasts in his childhood.

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus said “Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong as its current; no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away.”