Buckets

Let me say, for several reasons I truly do love my profession. It is stressful, it is challenging and at times it is heartbreaking. I am an empathetic person by nature and the emotional overload from being in a classroom with 20+ teenagers is exhausting. But at the end of the day facilitating those tough conversations, discussing a hopeful future with a student who thought no one believed in them, and hearing the unique perspectives of the next generation is gratifying in a way that not many other careers can create. In my 8 year career as an educator there is a three year gap where I left the profession. My reasons for returning in part define my teaching philosophy.

If I am going to be away from my little girl to do anything….it is going to be for a task that is fulfilling, demanding, and creating positive change for the future she will grow up in. Becoming a mother has made me a better educator. I frame all my ideas, curriculum and conversations with questions like “would this be worthy enough of my own child’s time?” “Is this something that will add value to my kid’s lives?” “Am I fostering their own critical thinking and allowing them to be their most authentic selves?”

Becoming a mother has made me want to be superwoman. I want to be so freaking good at everything my daughter ever watches me do. There are no half-assed days. If my daughter visits me in my classroom I do not want her to doubt her mom’s passion for what she does. I want her to understand that my time away from her is not squandered to pass the minutes but that it is important and meaningful work.

Despite all my confidence and certainty in my purpose; to get a text from my mom that my baby girl is standing at the front door before nap time whining “mamamamamama” out the glass…. is crippling. Psychologists and behaviorists talk a lot about pouring into all your various buckets (roles/hobbies/responsibilities). Something about that analogy has never quite fit with me. When looking at all the hats I wear, I don’t tend to compartmentalize like that…… I think I just dump all my buckets out.

When I’m a teacher, I’m still a mom. When I’m a mom I’m still a wife. When I’m a wife I’m still an aunt. When I’m an aunt I’m still a fitness junkie. When I’m a fitness junkie I’m still a daughter. When I’m a daughter I’m still a friend. When I’m a friend I’m still a hippie. When I’m a hippie I’m still a homemaker….

While some buckets are more important than others they are all still the same water. And it is that mindset, and the pictures, the videos, the baby monitor live feed and lunch break FaceTime calls, that take a little bit of the sting away when I am separated by distance from my tiniest love. — xoxo