Merry Christmas From the Ainleys!

Here is a link to our 33rd annual newsletter.  Enjoy!

2016 Ainley Review

A little less of Christmas

A few years ago, as I was struggling to "do" Christmas, attending to the dozens of traditional rituals I had built up over the years, I suddenly, desperately just gave up. I knew my health couldn't handle the overwhelming chore- yes it had become one big, long month of chores- of making Christmas for my family.

I had a huge epiphany (three actually) that year that has helped to define what Christmas is and will evermore be to me and my family.

1. I am no longer responsible for my family's happiness, excitement or memory making. wow. Isn't that a parent's job? Well, maybe yes, when they are tiny, but my "kids" were now adults with their own lives and families.

my epiphany- I think that in trying to treasure the memories we made as a family in years' past, I'd unintentionally burdened myself with recreating those memories and building on them from year to year. While my kids were off creating new family memories with their own spouses and children, I felt left out and a little lonely for those days when I was their Santa Claus, their memory maker, when I was in control of their entire world.

2. Trying to recreate the feelings and experiences we had as a young family is not only overwhelming, it is impossible. It turned into a "more and more and bigger and bigger and better and better" cycle of desperation that didn't just overwhelm and burden me, but my kids, their new families, my grand kids and my husband as well.

my epiphany- It was difficult to muster the humility I needed to face the root of this mania- my own need for attention, accolades and affirmation. Somehow, somewhere I got the idea that I had do everything bigger and better every year to keep my family coming home, to keep them wanting to be with me during the holidays. I guess I felt I had to make it really worth their time and attention to include me in their new and improved Christmas plans. So I planned huge events, cooked and baked everyone's favorite holiday treats, bought more elaborate and expensive gifts and demanded participation through selfish motives disguised as family traditions. It was manipulative and I am ashamed that I let it get that far.

3. People change, situations change, life changes us, I change. Changes in traditions don't erase the memories or diminish the value of the things that used to mean a lot to us. Throwing out the burden of trying to recreate old memories year after year has been hard, but when it's done intentionally, it actually creates room for new things, good things.

my epiphany- As empty nesters, my husband and I now have the opportunity to create our own new traditions. We can finally do whatever we want for the holidays without feeling as if we are letting our kids down. For our 30th anniversary, we decided to take a cruise over Christmas. It was liberating and we plan to do more holiday traveling in the coming years. Each year we evaluate our plans and ask ourselves which ones we can let go of. If we are both in agreement that something has lost it's meaning, we eliminate it without guilt.


I asked my kids a few years ago, "What three holiday traditions could you just not live without?" It was interesting what they shared, things that surprised me. I try now to focus on those things and my new joys of the season, which include, at the top of my list, creating unique experiences and memories with my grandchildren.


Don't get me wrong. I still love Christmas and spending time with my family is paramount. But I am starting to believe, really believe and understand, that being with my family is a gift that I can't force or guilt them into giving me. I'm listening more, planning less and really trying to receive what's given in joy rather than in obligation.

And, I'm being patient with myself. This is a process. I don't have it all down yet. I don't expect others to buy into the reality that I can and will allow God to change my heart. I can only try, one tradition, one year at a time, to step down from that pedestal of self importance and trust that eventually my family will notice and embrace the new, more peaceful mom. I see them struggling, expecting me to keep taking the lead, making the plans. I've been enabling and demanding for a very long time.

Here's to changes! Here's to new things, good things, better things. Here's to life and joy and great holidays ahead.

Depression Found Me Again

Depression found me again today.

I have been suspecting its presence in my life for a while, sensed it following me around, looking for an opportunity to overtake me.  I could feel it breathing down my neck, would twirl around to catch it in the act, to confront it and tell it to lay off, but I was never fast enough.  It would disappear, slip behind a tree, tucking its shadow out of sight.  I knew it was there lying in wait for the moment when I would be too tired or too distracted to keep my guard up.  

Depression found me again today.  I did everything I could think of to keep it at bay- kept myself healthy, took my supplements religiously, spent extra time in meditation, praying, releasing stress and anxiety, slept longer, rested, worshiped, and kept my eyes on the positive goals I’d set for myself…

It didn’t care.  It was just a matter of time before it discovered a chink in the armor, a weak spot in my overly-emotional heart.  Some things I can control.  This thing, I can’t.  I try.  I try to anticipate its attack and put up every defense I can.  But so many factors accumulated in this moment that allowed Depression to invade my brain…  the sudden and persistent rain and wind of the fall season, extra body pain, less sleep than I needed, a new, stressful job, financial worries, life style changes, an anniversary of a tragic experience, a medical event that landed me in the hospital…

It’s like storm clouds pressing in, pushing themselves around me.  I’ve pushed them away, protected myself for too long.  I’m weary and now feeling defenseless.  And now feeling ashamed that I can’t figure this out, that I once again let it win.  And I understand from past experiences with Depression, that it never comes alone. It brings along its buddy Fear, who drags in Hopelessness and Despair.  It settles in and hangs out, unwelcome yet at home in my life. 

Depression found me again today.  In reality, it never lost me.  I just forgot it was there, wished it had gone on to annoy and harass someone else.  At least this time I recognize its stench and understand that trying to ignore or deny its existence will only delay my victory over it.  I’m not looking forward to the fight, but there’s no other option.  I won’t.  I can’t allow myself to consider any other option than fighting through.

God Bless America

It's a little lonely in my classroom first thing in the morning. I don't have students until after they check into their homeroom, listen to the announcements and take attendance. But all by myself, with no audience or camera around, I still stand and say the pledge of allegiance with my hand on my heart. All by myself. My conscious just won't allow me to stay seated when up and down the hall I can hear students showing honor and respect to our country - our young, fierce, vibrant homeland with it's complicated citizenship, freedoms and conflicting acts of patriotism.

Later today, I will discuss 9/11/2001 with my immigrant students, somehow trying to explain that day to them in the context of what happened then, and what is happening now, and how it affects them. From past experience, I know some of them might have their own stories of terrorism to share, or sit quietly and remember. Some are happy and relieved to be here in America. Some are resentful of being yanked away from what was familiar and safe. For all of them, America is where they are now and whether they feel like an American or not, they are at the least, temporary citizens and at the most, future patriots.

And all I can think of is: God bless America, land that I love...

Early Father's Day

My husband Warren writes a new song about once every 5 years.  This one is based on a final goodbye he had with his father who died of pancreatic cancer in 1995...  so long ago, yet so many vivid memories we have of this very special man.  Looking to the future, seeing his dad again, but more importantly, seeing his heavenly Father face to face for the first time, Warren shares his heart.

All I Want to Hear

This Fine Group of People Called Teachers

Obviously, if you've been reading my facebook posts, I haven't seemed very happy to be in an educational conference the past two days.  In actuality, I have appreciated the information, the resources, research, practices and as usual, the opportunity to meet and network with other educators from around the Northwest.  And it always makes me so proud to see teachers, one of the hardest-working group of people I have ever known, take their own time to better their skills and increase their knowledge. 

The title of this conference or "summit", was "When Struggling Readers Thrive... Dreams Come True" and for two days all I heard from the over 500 teachers around me was how to do things better so our kids can succeed.  As a teacher, married to a teacher, and the mother of a teacher, I can assure you that this is what good teachers do - on the weekends, throughout the summer, during lunch, in their dreams at night - we are constantly problem solving - How do we teach better?  How do we make the content more comprehensible?  How do we reach more kids in a deeper and longer lasting way?  It never stops.  

I’m not really trying to sing praises to the teaching profession, and I’m certainly not going to say that it is a thankless job with little recognition from those who make the laws and sign our dwindling paychecks, although it is.  All I want to say is that we are a fine group of people.  And that we are a fine group of people who are becoming an endangered species.  Fewer and fewer college students are graduating with teaching degrees and I’m hearing of more districts who are having to hire non-certified teachers in order to fill the gaps in their classrooms.  That is scary. 

I overheard one teacher say today that her district couldn’t even “scrape the bottom of the barrel”, that there simply weren’t any applicants for several of the positions in her district this year.  The word is getting out.  Teaching is becoming a dying profession, one that isn’t worth the price, or worth the stress and the effort to meet the growing expectations and demands of our society.  More pay might help, but I think even more than that, we need the joy brought back into our classrooms.  If the KIDS are burning out by second grade, what do you think is happening to the teachers? 

Not a day goes by that I wonder if there is another job I could do with my skills, education and talents.  I love what I do and I really can’t see myself doing anything else, but I feel a slippery slope imminent.  And I’m not sure how long I will be able to dig my heels in and hang on.