Thursday, September 02, 2004
brown sugar vanilla mimosa forgiveness
I have had a hard week. Monday afternoon, I started getting sick with a sinus infection. I get chronic sinus infections; they come on fast and knock me out until I can get a few doses of a super-strong antibiotic in my system. Until then, I feel like my face has been smashed into a brick wall.
I managed to make it through work each school day by taking a ton of Advil and Tylenol, but I was left with a lingering underwater feeling. All week, I felt like everyone was only getting a part of me, and the part they got had a headache, and was in a pretty bad mood.
Everyday, I came home and just crawled into bed. As a result, I am behind on everything - laundry, grocery shopping, housecleaning, grading. Especially the grading. I desperately need some sort of paper-grading fairy to visit.
Yesterday, I started taking antibiotics, and I thought I felt better when I woke up today. I did not even take a pain reliever before I left for school. Then, I opened my school account email and read this notice: “Student X is not allowed on school grounds until after his hearing. If you see Student X on campus, or have any contact with him, notify the police.” I reached for the bottle of Advil I keep in my top desk drawer. The day just got worse.
I think that one of my students was drunk in second period. They installed an electronic grade book program in my computer during lunch and I think that I am supposed to have all my grades entered into it by tomorrow. I don't want to think about how many times I had to say, "Let's try to be respectful of other cultures.", while my tenth graders watched Whale Rider. The copier in the English Office broke. I had to call parents during my planning period and find a way to say "I think your child was drunk", without actually saying "I think your child was drunk".
By the time I came home, I was worn out. Chip had to work late and I was alone with the kids when I got a message from my college saying that they had messed up my certification packet. In other words, I was not a certified teacher yet. At this point I lost it. I yelled at my kids for not following directions. I was ugly, and mean. I called and yelled at my husband for not faxing the letter I had asked him to fax.
And for all of my talk about trying to be full of grace and love and kindness - I was just bitchy, and whiny, and self-pitying. There was no food in the house, my kids were hungry, I was too tired to think about going to the grocery store. I was at the breaking point.
So, I packed the kids in the car and took them to Jake’s Ice Cream for dinner. By now, it was seven-thirty on a school night, but since I had pretty much shot the whole “I am a good mother” fantasy to hell for the day, I figured I might as well just cap it off with a really nutritious dinner.
I let them taste as many flavors as they wanted before Arden settled on Mimosa Sorbet (made with denatured champagne - I am not that bad of a mother, and Lily and I both picked Brown Sugar Vanilla. My kids were ecstatic. Lily had worn a silver plastic crown to the ice-cream shop and she took it off an insisted I wear it. “You are the best mother in the world.”, she said as we walked outside. A woman with a toddler overheard us and asked what I did to deserve such praise. “Nothing”, I told her honestly. “They are just easily bought with ice cream”. She laughed, but what I said was true.
As we drove home, I said that I was sorry that I had yelled and been ugly. They forgave me.
Maybe this is my problem with forgiveness. When I have been selfish or unkind, I usually hide behind a mask of self-righteousness. Of course I was bitchy! I was tired. I have been sick.
I demand forgiveness because I think I deserve it automatically. I think I was not so bad. I think if people were just more understanding of my justifiable weaknesses, they would not even think I needed forgiveness.
Maybe I need to be more gentle in my repentance. Instead of just saying sorry; maybe I need to let myself feel sorry. Sorry enough to want to do something to make it right. Sorry enough to say “I was wrong”, and mean it.
I managed to make it through work each school day by taking a ton of Advil and Tylenol, but I was left with a lingering underwater feeling. All week, I felt like everyone was only getting a part of me, and the part they got had a headache, and was in a pretty bad mood.
Everyday, I came home and just crawled into bed. As a result, I am behind on everything - laundry, grocery shopping, housecleaning, grading. Especially the grading. I desperately need some sort of paper-grading fairy to visit.
Yesterday, I started taking antibiotics, and I thought I felt better when I woke up today. I did not even take a pain reliever before I left for school. Then, I opened my school account email and read this notice: “Student X is not allowed on school grounds until after his hearing. If you see Student X on campus, or have any contact with him, notify the police.” I reached for the bottle of Advil I keep in my top desk drawer. The day just got worse.
I think that one of my students was drunk in second period. They installed an electronic grade book program in my computer during lunch and I think that I am supposed to have all my grades entered into it by tomorrow. I don't want to think about how many times I had to say, "Let's try to be respectful of other cultures.", while my tenth graders watched Whale Rider. The copier in the English Office broke. I had to call parents during my planning period and find a way to say "I think your child was drunk", without actually saying "I think your child was drunk".
By the time I came home, I was worn out. Chip had to work late and I was alone with the kids when I got a message from my college saying that they had messed up my certification packet. In other words, I was not a certified teacher yet. At this point I lost it. I yelled at my kids for not following directions. I was ugly, and mean. I called and yelled at my husband for not faxing the letter I had asked him to fax.
And for all of my talk about trying to be full of grace and love and kindness - I was just bitchy, and whiny, and self-pitying. There was no food in the house, my kids were hungry, I was too tired to think about going to the grocery store. I was at the breaking point.
So, I packed the kids in the car and took them to Jake’s Ice Cream for dinner. By now, it was seven-thirty on a school night, but since I had pretty much shot the whole “I am a good mother” fantasy to hell for the day, I figured I might as well just cap it off with a really nutritious dinner.
I let them taste as many flavors as they wanted before Arden settled on Mimosa Sorbet (made with denatured champagne - I am not that bad of a mother, and Lily and I both picked Brown Sugar Vanilla. My kids were ecstatic. Lily had worn a silver plastic crown to the ice-cream shop and she took it off an insisted I wear it. “You are the best mother in the world.”, she said as we walked outside. A woman with a toddler overheard us and asked what I did to deserve such praise. “Nothing”, I told her honestly. “They are just easily bought with ice cream”. She laughed, but what I said was true.
As we drove home, I said that I was sorry that I had yelled and been ugly. They forgave me.
Maybe this is my problem with forgiveness. When I have been selfish or unkind, I usually hide behind a mask of self-righteousness. Of course I was bitchy! I was tired. I have been sick.
I demand forgiveness because I think I deserve it automatically. I think I was not so bad. I think if people were just more understanding of my justifiable weaknesses, they would not even think I needed forgiveness.
Maybe I need to be more gentle in my repentance. Instead of just saying sorry; maybe I need to let myself feel sorry. Sorry enough to want to do something to make it right. Sorry enough to say “I was wrong”, and mean it.
