Hello,

it's me
I was wondering if after more than a year you'd like to read
To go over everything...

I must have tried a thousand times, or at least thought about trying a thousand times, to sit down and start writing again. I mean, I know I could have started again last month. January is traditionally the time we reinvent ourselves and recommit to the things we love or know we should do, but that would have been cliche. Thousands of people all over the world start blogs in January that will fizzle out by the end of this month. I didn't want to be part of that crowd even if I am just resurrecting an old blog and not starting a new one. Also, I am rationalizing and I just procrastinated. Let's be honest. It felt too big. How can I make up for the time between November 4th 2017 and now? My frustrated-perfectionist inner-self looks at that huge gap and wants to proclaim this little blog forever ruined because there wasn't at LEAST one post every month when really my previous standard had been about once a week. However, I am trying to be a little more loving, kind, and generous to everyone including myself so here I am, sitting in my imperfect glory, trying to be a little more Zen. Don't worry, I won't try to tell you to be Zen too. My experience is that telling someone they should be Zen produces the opposite effect. I once read a book called Momma Zen for my book club. That book infuriated me. I just couldn't find the "Zen" in my momma life filled with infant and toddler boys who arose every morning at 5:30. That book just happened to fall off of a shelf above the changing table and into an open poopy diaper I was changing one day. I laughed so hard and, if you are the author please forgive me, yelled, "There! Try to be Zen about THAT crap!" I know it was a little crass, but I did feel much more Zen after laughing, yelling, and throwing the book away. I'm sure it really is a good book. It just wasn't the right time for me to read it. In that spirit, here is a ridiculously long recap of the things that happened last year which made me laugh, yell, and want to say crass words.

November and December of 2017 found me finishing up my 8 credits of graduate coursework and working long hours on negotiating the Superintendent's contract as the president of the local school board. In January, I made the very difficult decision to step down as president in order to more ethically be able to apply for teaching and administrative positions in the school district since Tobias would be starting Kindergarten in the fall. I was still working 30 hours a week for the KIDS Program and taking a full load of Master's classes. That winter and spring were an intense lesson in humility and patience as I applied for and failed to get interviews for position after position. I felt lost and my faith in myself was very shaken. I had given up work and colleagues that I loved on the school board in hopes of having an opportunity to make a different and more personal impact on education. I felt that perhaps I had made a huge mistake. I graduated with my Master's Degree in Education from UND in May of 2018. By that time, I had finally gotten one interview, but still no job offer.
The end of the school year came, and went. I was offered a position in a doctoral cohort at UND and decided I would take it as a way to continue learning and staying connected with the world of public education since it didn't look like I was going to be involved in the way I wanted to be. I would find a way to intern or volunteer in conjunction with my coursework. My children were in favor of this plan because they like anything which adds a little more chaos to the world. One of my boys commented, "Yes! Mom, it will be great when you are a doctor too because then people will call the house and ask, 'May I talk to Dr. Ricks?', and then we will say, 'Which one?!?' They will be so confused!" This pronouncement was followed by maniacal laughter.
We took a summer vacation to Ohio at the end of June and, while were there, I finally received a job offer. This just proves that God has a sense of humor and, sometimes, I'm not sure if He is always all that funny. I took the job, but I was already committed to pursuing my EdD. So, in August I started teaching 4th grade at the school my children attend AND I started doctoral classes every other weekend in Grand Forks- a 5 hour drive one way. Oh, did I mention that I was unable to access my classroom until about a week before school started? Also, we got a puppy. It just seemed right. I mean, we had to hire a nanny, buy and ready a small house for the nanny to live in, set up a classroom, finish soccer season, swimming season, swimming lessons for the other boys, prepare the boys for school starting, figure out how to deal with the new reality of Mommy being MIA a lot of the time AND take family pictures so it was a natural time to add a dog to the family. Marc's saintly mother saved our bacon by coming out for two whole weeks to help me try to manage everything and cope with the intensive new teacher training I had to attend on top of it all. The dog, Loki, certainly made us laugh, then yell, and he definitely left plenty of "crass words" all over the carpets. He also was addicted to the written word in the worst way. We lost so many books those first months. He ate a lot of Harry Potter and Shel Silverstein. Good taste. Dang it.
Pretty much my life since August has been teach, prep, study, drive, repeat. Teaching has been, if possible, even more humbling than struggling to find a job. I am really good at certain things because of my special education training and experience, but I am learning that general education is very different and very challenging. For example- the amount of paper alone is enough to make me curl up into the fetal position. I have nightmares about paper just piling up everywhere and I can't find anything in my classroom. Oh wait, that's reality. Here's the deal though- I LOVE these kids. I mean, they are my babies. I had forgotten what that was like to have this extended family that you see at school each day and now, instead of just 12 of them like there were in my special education classes, there are 20. It's a good thing because the number of hours between trying to manage this new job and my doctoral level classes has really pushed me to the edge of my ability. I have cried more tears of frustration, gratitude, despair, exhaustion and relief than I have since I was in the throes of infertility treatments. This is no life for the faint of heart, and I'm not even cooking dinner! Our saintly nanny is doing that most nights. The tender mercies here are that I get to see my own children- all in the same school for one year only- in action during the school day. I have never felt so loved or supported by them or by my husband than I do now during this most difficult year. I can't count the number of times this year when little arms have wrapped around my waist when I feel like the world is crashing down around me and then little voices say, "It's okay, Mommy. You are a good teacher AND a good mommy. We love you and your students love you." Or sometimes, those voices that are almost big- How are they getting so big so fast?- will say, "Mom! You are the coolest teacher! You are doing a great job, I don't know how you do it all!" When they see me at school, they always say hello and, most of them, stop to give me a hug or a kiss. In front of their friends. I'm the luckiest, right? I'm the luckiest to have one more pair of arms, the biggest ones in our house, and one more big voice that whispers words of encouragement. When I told Marc that I was feeling sad about the lost year, the year I didn't write about my children and our family, the year that has no record he said, "It's okay. Not writing is a record too. It's been a tough year, a crazy year, but you have accomplished so much." He's right. I have been able to accomplish a lot by leaning on all of the wonderful people in my life.
So, to all those many many friends and family members, who have lent shoulders to cry on, hands to make my work lighter, time to laugh with me and showed infinite amounts of patience with my emotional roller coaster, thank you. I promise many more amusing stories and anecdotes from this new and crazy life as I begin again to record the beauty and humor I see all around me, but for now...

Hello from the other side
I need to say a thousand times
That I'm so grateful
For everything that you've done
Even if when you call
I don't seem to be home anymore

Just keep calling. And texting. And emailing. Eventually, I will get back to you. I promise. You are all the best.