As seems to happen every few years, I currently have quite a few colleagues with newborn babies. I love my co-workers dearly, and it is so exciting to share this special time with them. I especially get a kick out of thinking that, in just a few short years, I may be these babies' teacher!
I was chatting recently with one friend who has just returned from maternity leave after having her first child. We were talking about how the transition was going, how much sleep she's getting, and her childcare arrangements for when she's at work. I sympathized with her challenges; there are so many amazing things about having a new baby, but there are so many parts that are really hard, too. "There's a sweet spot, though, isn't there?" she asked hopefully. "When does that happen? Are you in it now?"
The spot I'm in right now is interesting, actually, because I teach and parent kids of the same age. The way I figure, there will always be challenges at home and at work. It's just that, at this particular moment in my life, they happen to generally be the same kinds of challenges. All day.
It's the desire to do it by oneself without the ability to do it. It's the attempts at connection with others that so often result in frustration, tears, and physical conflict. It's the monumental task of taming impulses, the literal rewiring of the limbic brain. It's the body growing out of its need for the nap, but crashing before it get can the last meal of the day. It's being told to "use your words" when you don't yet have the vocabulary to express the complex emotions you feel. It's the exhausting work of being a young child navigating the world.
I love my work as a parent and a teacher. But this juncture of having my children at the same age as the ones I teach is stressful, and it's hard. In fact, I've given some serious thought about how I can keep from burning out, because there has been more than one day that I've thought to myself, "I don't think I can do this." (For the record, I don't have a fool-proof plan for not burning out. I have, however, learned to ask for time alone, which helps a lot.)
The longer I reflected on my colleague's question, though, the more I was able to think of wonderful things about this time, too. My daughters' classrooms are literally next door and across the hall from mine, and I get to see them a lot during the day. Next year, when my older daughter goes to kindergarten, she will be "all the way upstairs" in our school. Last week, I spied my girls holding hands as they walked down the hallway, excited that they'd each been sent on an errand by their teachers and had found each other in another part of the school. I am close, both literally and figuratively, with their teachers, and will never again have this kind of proximity to them, to hear about my kids' days and to keep them in the loop about what's going on for us at home. At this moment, I am probably the closest I can get to being both a stay-at-home Mom and working in the profession I love. That's pretty amazing.
And then, there's the beauty of my kids being this age in any context. It's true that they're not tiny, snuggly babies anymore (and good golly, they were cute). But I'm falling more in love every day with the amazing people they are - people I am better able to see and understand because of the very fact their language and thinking is maturing. They're growing up, no doubt about it, but they still welcome my hugs and kisses. They still want to have tea parties with me and show me what they made at school. They have big questions and are still interested in what I think about them. They don't need me as much as they once did, but they choose to let me into their worlds.
Am I in the sweet spot? Oh, am I ever.
I was chatting recently with one friend who has just returned from maternity leave after having her first child. We were talking about how the transition was going, how much sleep she's getting, and her childcare arrangements for when she's at work. I sympathized with her challenges; there are so many amazing things about having a new baby, but there are so many parts that are really hard, too. "There's a sweet spot, though, isn't there?" she asked hopefully. "When does that happen? Are you in it now?"
The spot I'm in right now is interesting, actually, because I teach and parent kids of the same age. The way I figure, there will always be challenges at home and at work. It's just that, at this particular moment in my life, they happen to generally be the same kinds of challenges. All day.
It's the desire to do it by oneself without the ability to do it. It's the attempts at connection with others that so often result in frustration, tears, and physical conflict. It's the monumental task of taming impulses, the literal rewiring of the limbic brain. It's the body growing out of its need for the nap, but crashing before it get can the last meal of the day. It's being told to "use your words" when you don't yet have the vocabulary to express the complex emotions you feel. It's the exhausting work of being a young child navigating the world.
I love my work as a parent and a teacher. But this juncture of having my children at the same age as the ones I teach is stressful, and it's hard. In fact, I've given some serious thought about how I can keep from burning out, because there has been more than one day that I've thought to myself, "I don't think I can do this." (For the record, I don't have a fool-proof plan for not burning out. I have, however, learned to ask for time alone, which helps a lot.)
The longer I reflected on my colleague's question, though, the more I was able to think of wonderful things about this time, too. My daughters' classrooms are literally next door and across the hall from mine, and I get to see them a lot during the day. Next year, when my older daughter goes to kindergarten, she will be "all the way upstairs" in our school. Last week, I spied my girls holding hands as they walked down the hallway, excited that they'd each been sent on an errand by their teachers and had found each other in another part of the school. I am close, both literally and figuratively, with their teachers, and will never again have this kind of proximity to them, to hear about my kids' days and to keep them in the loop about what's going on for us at home. At this moment, I am probably the closest I can get to being both a stay-at-home Mom and working in the profession I love. That's pretty amazing.
And then, there's the beauty of my kids being this age in any context. It's true that they're not tiny, snuggly babies anymore (and good golly, they were cute). But I'm falling more in love every day with the amazing people they are - people I am better able to see and understand because of the very fact their language and thinking is maturing. They're growing up, no doubt about it, but they still welcome my hugs and kisses. They still want to have tea parties with me and show me what they made at school. They have big questions and are still interested in what I think about them. They don't need me as much as they once did, but they choose to let me into their worlds.
Am I in the sweet spot? Oh, am I ever.
