Staying present and giving thanks

Today started out so well. It's hard not to be in a good mood when one has had plenty of coffee, when one's students are being mostly lovable and when the two who are kind of psychotic have been suspended for a few days. Matt's parents are in town. Our Christmas tree is up and filling our little house with the smell of joy. My little boy turns one year old in a few days. And it's Friday.

Then someone apparently got wind of my good mood and decided it was unacceptable, so she smoked a few cigarettes and dumped her stinking ashtray right on top of all of my happiness. She put on big, muddy boots and traipsed all over my positive attitude. She came into my classroom -- my turf, thank you -- and ruined my good mood by being horrible and abrasive.

It has been a tremendously stressful year at school for lots of reasons, almost all of which are completely beyond my control. I tend to think of my classroom itself as somewhat of a haven from all the absurdity (although believe me, my students create plenty of absurdity of their own -- it's part of their charm). Today, someone invaded my space and decided to be a TOTAL JERK about it. She ruined my day. Unfortunately, I gave her that power. I went to lunch and actually cried, which violates my own personal rule (Do Not Cry At School). I also may have threatened to burn my teaching certificate. I love teaching, a lot, but I also have a very full life and two beautiful children and a family -- I don't have enough space in my head to give it out rent-free to HORRIBLE PEOPLE who SUCK AT COMMUNICATING IN REASONABLE WAYS.

I'm sorry this is so cryptic (it has to be, when I write about school). Anyway. I took a few deep breaths, talked to some good people who communicate well and are kind enough to say all the right things when I'm threatening to burn my teaching certificate right then and there, and decided that I probably won't say "To hell with this stupid job" today. And probably not before Christmas. Possibly in January, but not right now.

Then I came home, where I was greeted by my two beautiful children, and I spent the rest of the afternoon evening with my family and my in-laws. We ate dinner together, and we watched as Isaac and Suzannah splashed happily together in the bathtub, and then Suzannah ran around the house stark naked wearing only a pair of Matt's swim goggles, and Isaac laughed at everything she did, and then I zipped him into his sleep sack and nursed him for a long time, and then I rocked him to sleep, and then Suzannah asked me to lie down with her for a moment and we snuggled in her bed, and in between all of this there was lots of silliness, and I realized something very obvious that hits me every now and then:

Everything I need, everything that matters -- it's right here.

I love my job, and I believe it matters, but it is not my life. And I am guilty (guilty guilty guilty!) of sacrificing my sanity and peace of mind for people who should not have that much power. Profound, huh? Wouldn't it be nice if I could learn this lesson once, and it would just stick? Wouldn't it be great if I could just be this peaceful and enlightened all the time? Sadly, it's a lesson I have to keep learning and learning and learning, which, oh my word, is kind of tiresome. But tonight I'm really trying, and I feel better than I have all day. Nothing about school has changed, and I'll still have the same challenges when I go back on Monday, but sometimes a little perspective can make a world of difference in how I approach it all. (How wise. I should write this down for later.)

Which reminds me: I never did write my Thanksgiving List here. It's something I try to do every November -- just write down little things for which I am thankful. Partly in the spirit of Thanksgiving, and partly because it's so easy to succumb to stress and crankiness and chaos during the months of November and December (perhaps that's why all of us have been fighting these ridiculous colds for about a hundred years now). Thanksgiving has come and gone, but it's never too late to remember to be grateful. And, I suppose, to just stay present.

So here is my list -- the obvious, the ordinary, the daily:

Matt, the best partner and friend I could hope to navigate this life with. Suzannah, who is so funny and sweet and empathetic and stubborn and spirited. Isaac, who is the most joyful person I have ever known, who fits into our family so perfectly. Students who talk to me about books they're reading that have nothing to do with school. Falling asleep to the sound of rain. Netflix on Friday night. Starbucks holiday drinks. Students who bring me cookies for no reason. Students who keep in touch after they leave high school. The way my pug jumps into my lap after the kids are in bed. Reconnecting with people I haven't seen in a long time. Friends who keep me sane when I feel crazy. Friends who see me go crazy and love me anyway. My coffee cup pajama pants. My favorite hoodies. Fuzzy pink socks. Green pilot pens. A four-mile run in the cold, damp air. Good wine. Bubble baths. Rereading Traveling Mercies when I need it most. The fact that Pat Conroy is still alive and writing beautiful sentences and keeping me hopelessly in love with language and writing and books and my glorious, ridiculous job. Cooking cozy dinners with my husband. Friday night gin-and-tonics. Chocolate truffles. Our little house and all the history it holds. Christmas decorations. The Concordia Christmas concerts and A Muppet Christmas Carol. Christmas cards. Reading lists. My books. Nutella. Date nights. Living so close to my brother and sister-in-law. Phone calls from our parents. Good people who love on my children. The smell of clean laundry and knowing I won't have to do any over the weekend. Nursing my son in bed in the morning and the sound of my daughter's feet padding across the hallway to join us. Stories.

What are yours?