I think about blogging. Often. I used to do this all of the time. And then I combined it with my professional life and spooked myself with what was appropriate. Medical diagnoses of family members and complications didn't make it any easier and even though it's all part of my life, it's not all my news to share
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It's been too long to recap, so I'll just move forward from here. Like you do.
About a year ago, my eldest graduated high school and I got some time back. She had a medically difficult high school experience which wound up being time-consuming for everyone, especially her. I didn't realize this until she was done and off to college. She's now
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It's been a while. I'm struggling, and I'm sick of talking about it. Let's just send out a gigantic apology to any parents of teenagers I may have wronged, whether it be out loud or just in my head, large or small. We spend years trying to do the right thing, reading the attachment parenting books and saying no when we need to, building special
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Long ago, I had this thought that my journal should sync up with my teaching life, so I stopped writing here and started writing on my bassoon website. I don't know what I was thinking. The net result seems to have been that I stopped blogging altogether
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Today, I was laid off. I am a classically trained bassoonist, but my daytime job for the last seven years had been as a Teaching Artist. I worked with kindergartners a class at a time, twice a week with one or two partners, to teach curriculum using music. An ingenious thing, as the best lessons were always the ones where the kids just learned and
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Need: At least 1 musical performance monthly. Why: Sanity, relevance, and growth. How: Will begin with duos, asking colleagues for interest. Where: Doesn’t matter much. The goal is to play.
Tomorrow I will be the mother of a 13 year old (and also a ten year old but the 13 is the milestone). Feels weird to say and I'm afraid I'm going to have a hard time with that reality. I can't even say why. Perhaps I'm sad that we aren't making a bigger deal of it. Perhaps I'm feeling old-er than usual. Perhaps I fear the times to come. Or perhaps
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Books abandoned are sad vestiges of misplaced trust. This ocurred to me today, or perhaps I only remembered something I’d read. How deeply a reader-author relationship is based upon trust. There have been a number of books which I have read and while reading, have only elicited a lukewarm response in me. I soldier on, hoping and trusting that this
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