My absence from this blog over the past month has been very intentional. You see, now that I'm working with students, I feel very conscientious of the fact that a simple Google search on their part will unearth a wealth of personal information about me. Now mind you, it's not as if I've been posting anything I would be ashamed of on this blog - no "Moms Gone Wild" - none of that sort of thing. But, I want to be free to write about the feelings that I'm experiencing during this new leg of my Journey, and I don't want to have to worry about young people (or their parents, for that matter!) taking my personal experiences out of context. Know what I mean? I need to feel able to bare my soul. Besides, I owe them some privacy too. Although, you'll note that I do not put any specifics about students or schools where I've been into this blog.
As a result of the above, I have decided to make this a private blog. If you received an invitation by e-mail for this blog, it's because you are someone who has read it from time to time and indicated that you enjoy keeping up with me and my family this way. To tell you the truth, I only sent out 15 invitations, and I love that. It feels nice to know that I'm now sharing myself with an intimate little group, and the spammers in Ghana and Bulgaria can't reach me anymore! (I was getting really tired of their comments!)
So, I've had some e-mail prompts from a few people asking me how school is going. I want to try to sum it up for you - for myself - and I just can't find any better words to articulate it other than...IT IS SO DAMN HARD! (there's a first - cussing on my blog!) Think about the last time you did something that was just hard no matter which way you slice it. I mean, there is not one part of my job that's easy, and some days that's so exhausting that I just feel like I have nothing left over. Does this mean that I'm not enjoying myself? No. Does it mean that I want out? No. Look people, I knew this was going to be hard from the day I first stepped into a classroom as a student teacher three years ago. The thing is, when everything feels hard, you start to doubt yourself. You think, "Can I just get a break here? Can just one thing go smoothly or come easily?" As the wise person I was talking to today said, I am now a journeyman - no longer an apprentice - I've got more experience and knowledge than that. Still, I've got a long way to go until I'm a master.
Humbling. It's just all so humbling. And yet, I have (cue my favorite word) perspective. I know it won't always be like this. One day, five years from now I will look back and remember how hard this was, and thank God that I don't have to be a first year teacher ever again. I will actually take my lunch in the teacher's lounge and try to work on my relational skills instead of wolfing down a Lean Cuisine while standing over my desk and running back and forth from the printer to my office during my 30 minute lunch break that always - and I mean always - ends up being more like 15 by the time I've helped students find their ID's, their planners, their lunch money and open their lockers. I feel confident that I will get there one day, but still, my little ego could really use a dose of "Gosh, you sure know what the heck you're talking about!" self-talk right now. Trouble is, I don't want to lie to myself.
Humbling. I'm teaching kids things that I still have yet to wrap my mind around. Take long division, for example. Today I was trying to explain how it works; why you don't just find how many times 3 "goes into" 12. I was trying to explain that we are actually looking at groups of three, and trying to see how many groups of 3 are in one ten and 2 ones (or, 12 for those of you educated pre-No Child Left Behind). I really thought I had it. I was on a roll, and then all of a sudden my mind twisted up on itself and I heard myself saying things I couldn't even identify. I looked out onto a sea of stunned confusion. I had officially confused them more than they already were to begin with! Please...can I get a break here?
Perhaps this is why I'm still cycling. No longer a dabbler, I've adopted it whole-heartedly. And while I haven't been able to get out more than once a week (I'm a true weekend warrior), I now consider it my hobby. In fact, I'm smitten with cycling. I love the release that it's given me over this past month. When I'm staring down the barrel of a hill that seems like more than I feel capable of, I just tell myself, "Are you kidding? You teach middle school! You teach middle school SPECIAL ED! You are doing the hardest job you've ever done...on so many levels. You can do this!". Conversely, when I'm in school, I sometimes have to transport myself back to that hill and remind myself, "You just rode 33 miles yesterday, you can handle this 13 year old with a self-destructive attitude."
And so, while this entry lacks any sort of detail whatsoever, it does tell you where I am personally with things. The details will come in time, when I feel ready to approach them in writing, and when they will seem to fit more naturally.
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
My Little Secret Dream Come True
Today I got an e-mail that I've been secretly waiting for (hoping for) for the past two years. I received an e-mail from the Golden Key national honor society asking me if I'd like to be a member. I'm not sure how many people in my life can understand how much this means to me. I got teary eyed when I told Husband about it. Sure, it's a formality; and of course, they do charge a fee to be a "member". But for the first time in my academic career I can say that I'm in an honor society. This may seem a trifle to some, but it has always been a secret dream of mine. I know that my 4.0 GPA may not be a big deal to a lot of people, but it is to me. I worked hard to earn it. More importantly, I discovered something very important that I never knew about myself during my school years...I'm smart! I'm no genius, and I doubt MENSA will be contacting me at any point in my lifetime, but darn it, I'm smart! (Imagine what I could have done with that knowledge when I was 15. It just might have saved me some insecurity!)
So - if I sound desperate to you; if I sound like someone who is putting too much stock in what other people (i.e. the Golden Key people) think...you're right! And I don't care - I'm proud of myself, and it's my own opinion that matters this time. Besides, it's something nice I can add to my resume!
So - if I sound desperate to you; if I sound like someone who is putting too much stock in what other people (i.e. the Golden Key people) think...you're right! And I don't care - I'm proud of myself, and it's my own opinion that matters this time. Besides, it's something nice I can add to my resume!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
McLate
This morning we all overslept. Husband crept out of bed at 7am, and I soon followed, to find the boys still sound asleep. Hmmm....this wasn't going to do. It takes at least 20 minutes to get Connor dressed and another 20 for him to eat, but we need to leave by 7:35 to get to school on time. As I rushed around trying to get the boys moving, I asked Kirby what he'd like for breakfast.
"A breakfast sandwich," he said.
"We don't have any cheese slices, so pick something else," I told him.
Giving me the most exasperated look, he threw up his hands in the air and said, "Fast food!".
Right at that moment, I made a decision that I'm positive I will live to regret. I promised the boys that if they could be ready in 10 minutes, I would take them to the new McDonald's that just opened up across the road from us for breakfast. This McDonald's is what Husband says will "be the death of us". It has been open almost 2 weeks and you don't want to know how many times we've been there between the four of us. However, the boys had only been there once, for dinner, so I knew going for breakfast would be a treat. Besides, I had a hankering for a Bacon Egg & Cheese biscuit, so I thought it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.
I am aware that our morning escapade will likely set an awful precedent. Still, maybe it will also leave them with a happy memory. Or, more likely, clogged arteries!
"A breakfast sandwich," he said.
"We don't have any cheese slices, so pick something else," I told him.
Giving me the most exasperated look, he threw up his hands in the air and said, "Fast food!".
Right at that moment, I made a decision that I'm positive I will live to regret. I promised the boys that if they could be ready in 10 minutes, I would take them to the new McDonald's that just opened up across the road from us for breakfast. This McDonald's is what Husband says will "be the death of us". It has been open almost 2 weeks and you don't want to know how many times we've been there between the four of us. However, the boys had only been there once, for dinner, so I knew going for breakfast would be a treat. Besides, I had a hankering for a Bacon Egg & Cheese biscuit, so I thought it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.
I am aware that our morning escapade will likely set an awful precedent. Still, maybe it will also leave them with a happy memory. Or, more likely, clogged arteries!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Two Years (Just A Piece of Life's Journey)
It recently dawned on me that I started blogging two years ago this month, at the start of my program. This morning, cup of tea in hand, I pulled that first entry and re-read it. Oh how glad I am to be where I am today! I titled this blog "One Mom's Journey" because I felt a sense of embarking on a journey - heading down a new path. But, at that time, it was hard to imagine the twists and turns that my path would take even in those two years.
I know that I was certain that I would be teaching by now. Who could have foreseen that we would be expecting a new baby? Certainly not me! Reading my first post, it easy to see how much I was grieving for a life that I had loved (staying home with our children). My mom recently pointed out to me, that had I known then that our two years of sacrifice and hard work would be rewarded with this upcoming year - a year which I now think of as "the gift year" - I might have felt much better going in. I was scared and happy, excited and sad (frankly, I was all over the place!). Looking back, it's so easy to see that the Lord has carried us gently down His path. Though it has been a time rife with anxiety, and I cried many tears (and suffered a few meltdowns) there has also been much joy and much personal growth - not just for me, but for the boys and Husband too. And, I can see how our marriage has been strengthened by our need to be a highly evolved team.
I always wondered if the blog title would be appropriate once I finished with school. I can see now that it is. Everyone knows that life itself is a journey. I've learned a lot, but I'll never be done. Actually, I like John Michael Montgomery's way of putting it...
"Life's a dance, learn as you go
sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow.
Don't worry about what you don't know.
Life's a dance, learn as you go."
Husband can vouch for how much I like to lead on the dance floor. What I've learned over the past two years is how much of a joy life can be when I stop - and follow.
I know that I was certain that I would be teaching by now. Who could have foreseen that we would be expecting a new baby? Certainly not me! Reading my first post, it easy to see how much I was grieving for a life that I had loved (staying home with our children). My mom recently pointed out to me, that had I known then that our two years of sacrifice and hard work would be rewarded with this upcoming year - a year which I now think of as "the gift year" - I might have felt much better going in. I was scared and happy, excited and sad (frankly, I was all over the place!). Looking back, it's so easy to see that the Lord has carried us gently down His path. Though it has been a time rife with anxiety, and I cried many tears (and suffered a few meltdowns) there has also been much joy and much personal growth - not just for me, but for the boys and Husband too. And, I can see how our marriage has been strengthened by our need to be a highly evolved team.
I always wondered if the blog title would be appropriate once I finished with school. I can see now that it is. Everyone knows that life itself is a journey. I've learned a lot, but I'll never be done. Actually, I like John Michael Montgomery's way of putting it...
"Life's a dance, learn as you go
sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow.
Don't worry about what you don't know.
Life's a dance, learn as you go."
Husband can vouch for how much I like to lead on the dance floor. What I've learned over the past two years is how much of a joy life can be when I stop - and follow.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Night and Day
Yesterday marked the first day of classes for me. In fact, the classes I'm taking are 2 of the final 3 needed to complete my master's degree. One of them I'll have every Thursday evening until December (Educational Psychology). The other, thankfully, met last night, and will meet on 3 more weekends, then I'm done with it (Research Methods)!
I've heard great things about both classes, and some of my friends who had previously taken the Educational Psychology course have told me how much I'll like it, one of them saying, "You'll love that class - the professor is so structured and organized - it'll be right up your alley!". Uh - thanks...I think.
Never have I spent time with two such crazy opposite people as I did in these two classes. The professors - both of whom I think I'm going to love - were polar opposites. Allow me to paint the picture, for purposes of processing this information for myself:
The first 30 minutes of my educational psychology class were spent with the instructor going over the 2 page, single-spaced "course policies". Now, many of these policies are things you would not think you should have to tell a bunch of graduate students, but unfortunately, I've been in enough classes with some of these people to know they could use a little nudging. The policies included NEVER missing class, not being tardy, no laptop use, no late papers, no rewrites...oh! I forgot. You can miss up to 2 hours of one class if it's for something very important, but according to her, "Your daughter going up on toe in a recital or your husband getting an award at work isn't 'important'". I wonder if going into early labor qualifies as "important"? She then gave us a 5 minute break so that anyone who felt they couldn't make the kind of commitment the class entails could make a graceful exit.
Wouldn't you just know, after she spends 3o minutes going over all the rules, my buddy, who's traditionally late to classes, shows up in the doorway with a deer-in-headlights look. "Sorry I'm late." He says. I look at the clock and see that he's an hour late. "Oh crap!" I thought, "here we go." I made room for him to sit next to me and, ever the cynic, he leans over in his loudest whisper (and I mean loud) and says, "How has the class been so far?" I tried to ignore him, and the professor, catching his whisper, moved over to him and presented him with the scroll of policies (which does, in fact, include no talking while she or one of our classmates is talking). She asked him to read the policies and decide if he could commit to the class, meanwhile he tried to apologize for being late and she assured him it was fine but that he really needed to read the policies. As she returned to the front of the room, my buddy leaned over to me and whispered, again loudly, "Is she the only one who teaches this class? Because I don't appreciate the public humiliation!"
"Talk to me after class!" I whispered back. Poor guy - but anyone who knows me knows that breaking rules makes me extremely uncomfortable. And besides, I'm not the type to carry on side conversations anyway!
Class ended (and I think it will be a really good one), and I had 8 minutes to walk about 3 city blocks and find my next classroom - which wouldn't be a problem except I will remind you that I'm 22 weeks pregnant and I can't walk as fast as I once could. I am positive that in my black shirt and black & white skirt, I looked like a penguin with a teal backpack waddling across campus.
My next class had such a different tone that I'm still chuckling to myself about it. I entered the room to see a little man, about 70 years old, in a sweater (no, it wasn't a cold evening). On the screen at the front of the room was some kind of funky picture of a kitten in a strange pose - the kind you get in forwarded e-mails - and a request for us to provide a caption for the photo. He began to speak in a very quiet, very British voice. His first statement was, "I know they have us on the schedule (and yes, he said SHedule) as being here until midnight or something (10pm really), and I like to catch the no. 15 bus at 9 o'clock, so I was hoping you'd be okay with leaving around 8:45. Is that okay? Tired heads nodded approval.
"And while we're at it, let's talk about the weekends that we're to meet...they have us on the SHedule as meeting at 4pm Fridays, but I really can't make it from Boulder by then. Would it be alright if we meet at 4:30pm instead? Would that be okay?" More nods of approval.
"And really, after a full week of work, I don't feel like being in class until 9pm, so I was thinking that 7:30 might be more agreeable. What do you think? Would that be okay?" Was he serious? Heads were nodding more enthusiastically as we all did the math and realized that cut our Friday night classes from 5 hours to 3. But wait - there's more!
"And as for being here by 8am on Saturdays, well, I have a cat who likes to take a stroll with me every Saturday morning. He's 15, and he is very set in his ways..." Is this guy serious??? "I think I can make it by 9am. Would that be agreeable to everyone? Lots of laughter and people were really starting to loosen up. Then he said, " And I won't be releasing you at 5pm on those days - that's just ridiculous - I'll be letting you go around 3:30pm". Okay, so he just cut our weekend classes by 4 1/2 hours, and he's asking us if it would be okay? Ummmm, yeah.
Toward the end of class, he said, in his quiet little British voice, "You know, we all work very hard," (well...not all of us...some of us are currently unemployed, with two children about to enter school full-time) he continued..."and I don't think we need to be spending our free time between classes typing up assignments and doing readings." (Wait...was this heading where I thought it was heading?) "So, I just want you to know that you'll be given time during class to do any readings and assignments. Nothing will be expected of you outside of class." You could have heard a pin drop, then he capped that statement of with the requisite "would that be okay?" The girl next to me, who just told me that she is taking 16 graduate credit hours was near tears, and I just kept laughing to myself.
What a strange 5 hours it had been. How was it even possible that two professors, both about whom I'd heard great things, both with classes that sounded fabulous, could be such night and day, polar opposites? I think it would make a fascinating study in the psychology of control. Regardless, I'm geared up for a more laid-back semester than I've experienced in the past two years. Bring it on!
I've heard great things about both classes, and some of my friends who had previously taken the Educational Psychology course have told me how much I'll like it, one of them saying, "You'll love that class - the professor is so structured and organized - it'll be right up your alley!". Uh - thanks...I think.
Never have I spent time with two such crazy opposite people as I did in these two classes. The professors - both of whom I think I'm going to love - were polar opposites. Allow me to paint the picture, for purposes of processing this information for myself:
The first 30 minutes of my educational psychology class were spent with the instructor going over the 2 page, single-spaced "course policies". Now, many of these policies are things you would not think you should have to tell a bunch of graduate students, but unfortunately, I've been in enough classes with some of these people to know they could use a little nudging. The policies included NEVER missing class, not being tardy, no laptop use, no late papers, no rewrites...oh! I forgot. You can miss up to 2 hours of one class if it's for something very important, but according to her, "Your daughter going up on toe in a recital or your husband getting an award at work isn't 'important'". I wonder if going into early labor qualifies as "important"? She then gave us a 5 minute break so that anyone who felt they couldn't make the kind of commitment the class entails could make a graceful exit.
Wouldn't you just know, after she spends 3o minutes going over all the rules, my buddy, who's traditionally late to classes, shows up in the doorway with a deer-in-headlights look. "Sorry I'm late." He says. I look at the clock and see that he's an hour late. "Oh crap!" I thought, "here we go." I made room for him to sit next to me and, ever the cynic, he leans over in his loudest whisper (and I mean loud) and says, "How has the class been so far?" I tried to ignore him, and the professor, catching his whisper, moved over to him and presented him with the scroll of policies (which does, in fact, include no talking while she or one of our classmates is talking). She asked him to read the policies and decide if he could commit to the class, meanwhile he tried to apologize for being late and she assured him it was fine but that he really needed to read the policies. As she returned to the front of the room, my buddy leaned over to me and whispered, again loudly, "Is she the only one who teaches this class? Because I don't appreciate the public humiliation!"
"Talk to me after class!" I whispered back. Poor guy - but anyone who knows me knows that breaking rules makes me extremely uncomfortable. And besides, I'm not the type to carry on side conversations anyway!
Class ended (and I think it will be a really good one), and I had 8 minutes to walk about 3 city blocks and find my next classroom - which wouldn't be a problem except I will remind you that I'm 22 weeks pregnant and I can't walk as fast as I once could. I am positive that in my black shirt and black & white skirt, I looked like a penguin with a teal backpack waddling across campus.
My next class had such a different tone that I'm still chuckling to myself about it. I entered the room to see a little man, about 70 years old, in a sweater (no, it wasn't a cold evening). On the screen at the front of the room was some kind of funky picture of a kitten in a strange pose - the kind you get in forwarded e-mails - and a request for us to provide a caption for the photo. He began to speak in a very quiet, very British voice. His first statement was, "I know they have us on the schedule (and yes, he said SHedule) as being here until midnight or something (10pm really), and I like to catch the no. 15 bus at 9 o'clock, so I was hoping you'd be okay with leaving around 8:45. Is that okay? Tired heads nodded approval.
"And while we're at it, let's talk about the weekends that we're to meet...they have us on the SHedule as meeting at 4pm Fridays, but I really can't make it from Boulder by then. Would it be alright if we meet at 4:30pm instead? Would that be okay?" More nods of approval.
"And really, after a full week of work, I don't feel like being in class until 9pm, so I was thinking that 7:30 might be more agreeable. What do you think? Would that be okay?" Was he serious? Heads were nodding more enthusiastically as we all did the math and realized that cut our Friday night classes from 5 hours to 3. But wait - there's more!
"And as for being here by 8am on Saturdays, well, I have a cat who likes to take a stroll with me every Saturday morning. He's 15, and he is very set in his ways..." Is this guy serious??? "I think I can make it by 9am. Would that be agreeable to everyone? Lots of laughter and people were really starting to loosen up. Then he said, " And I won't be releasing you at 5pm on those days - that's just ridiculous - I'll be letting you go around 3:30pm". Okay, so he just cut our weekend classes by 4 1/2 hours, and he's asking us if it would be okay? Ummmm, yeah.
Toward the end of class, he said, in his quiet little British voice, "You know, we all work very hard," (well...not all of us...some of us are currently unemployed, with two children about to enter school full-time) he continued..."and I don't think we need to be spending our free time between classes typing up assignments and doing readings." (Wait...was this heading where I thought it was heading?) "So, I just want you to know that you'll be given time during class to do any readings and assignments. Nothing will be expected of you outside of class." You could have heard a pin drop, then he capped that statement of with the requisite "would that be okay?" The girl next to me, who just told me that she is taking 16 graduate credit hours was near tears, and I just kept laughing to myself.
What a strange 5 hours it had been. How was it even possible that two professors, both about whom I'd heard great things, both with classes that sounded fabulous, could be such night and day, polar opposites? I think it would make a fascinating study in the psychology of control. Regardless, I'm geared up for a more laid-back semester than I've experienced in the past two years. Bring it on!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
A Milestone of My Own
Please excuse me for a moment while I toot my own horn.
TODAY I COMPLETED MY PROGRAM!!! Yes, after two long years (and two summers) of classes, I completed the final class needed to get my teaching license. Can I just tell you how good that feels? Okay, probably not as good as it will feel 3 classes from now, when I'm all done with my master's degree, but still - dang good!
So...what's a girl to do after a major accomplishment? First, I improvised a pizza party with both of my sisters, our kids and my dad. Now, I'm going to take a guilt-free nap. Tonight, I hit the movies with my sister and a friend to see a total chick flick. I'm also going to the library tomorrow to pick up a couple of leisure reading books for our vacation.
Here is my sigh of relief and contentment...ahhhhhhhhh.
TODAY I COMPLETED MY PROGRAM!!! Yes, after two long years (and two summers) of classes, I completed the final class needed to get my teaching license. Can I just tell you how good that feels? Okay, probably not as good as it will feel 3 classes from now, when I'm all done with my master's degree, but still - dang good!
So...what's a girl to do after a major accomplishment? First, I improvised a pizza party with both of my sisters, our kids and my dad. Now, I'm going to take a guilt-free nap. Tonight, I hit the movies with my sister and a friend to see a total chick flick. I'm also going to the library tomorrow to pick up a couple of leisure reading books for our vacation.
Here is my sigh of relief and contentment...ahhhhhhhhh.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
A Little of This and A Little of That
A few random things come to mind today:
- Group presentations are painful...like the one I did today in my collaboration class. Even though I had two partners that are fabulous, I just don't like having to rely on someone other than myself. I guess that's why I'm taking a "Collaboration" class - so that I can become more comfortable giving up some control and working with other people. Hmmm....
- Can you believe Michael Jackson died today? The King of Pop was my first crush. "Thriller" was also the first cool record I owned. His whole life makes me sad. But, it doesn't take away from the fact that he was pure talent. Strange, but talented. I remember watching Night Flight; his videos were the only ones my mom was really okay with us watching at the time because she thought he was an incredible dancer (and he was). My cousin Ken and I started a Michael Jackson fan club. He was the president and I was the vice president. We were the only two members, and we incessantly clipped articles and collected Jackson paraphernalia. It's definitely the end of an era.
- Some birds have moved in, built a nest, and started a family right above our upstairs hallway. This means incessant chirping at various times of the day. I love it! First of all, mama and daddy bird seem to have their little chicks on the same schedule as us, and they all quiet down shortly after the boys go to bed (they also sleep in a bit later than ours). Secondly, it makes me feel like Cinderella. You know how she always had that flock of birds that followed her around and magically flew through the window right on cue? I have to admit that I think of that every time I walk through the hall and hear them. Husband just came downstairs to tell me he thinks we should cut a hole in the roof and put up some plexi-glass so that we can observe the birds. He thinks this would actually add to the value of our house, because once the birds migrate, we'll have a sky light. I'm taking this under advisement.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Great Expectations
I know it's a little unorthodox of me to post twice in the same day, but there is definitely a subject that is screaming for attention in my blog...especially since it is taking me on a new path in my journey. I'm 11 weeks pregnant.
I hate the fact that some very good friends will find out this information by reading my blog, and not by me in person, but the fact is that if I waited until I was able to reach everyone, I'd probably be 20 weeks along by the time I was posting about it! I've been wanting to write about this for weeks and weeks, as it has had a huge impact on my plans for the future.
After much debate, which could have been strung out on this blog, but which would have caused you to wonder if I had completely lost my mind (and for awhile, I think I did!), I have decided not to pursue a teaching job for next year. I plan to substitute teach until the baby is born (due December 27th - but more on that later) and take a class (one of the final 3 to finish up my master's). The job search was causing me great anxiety in and of itself, but knowing that if I was hired, I would have to turn around and tell them I need 2 months off was very unsettling. The whole process of interviewing while pregnant and not telling anybody just made me feel like I was duping people. While it's perfectly legal, it's not something I am comfortable with.
When I say that there was "much debate" about what to do next year, what I mean is that I drove every person I know crazy with my hashing and re-hashing of the various scenarios that could take place, based upon me either being employed or unemployed. God bless my sister Megan, also a special ed teacher, who fielded countless questions from me and supported my decision to teach, and then not to teach - also my parents, mother-in-law and other friends who served as sounding boards. My biggest fear, which is that I won't be able to find a job next spring, was cast aside by my adviser (a professor, friend, and mentor). My sheer will to start teaching after 2 years of hard work has now been replaced by the knowledge that I will be a far better wife and mother if I concentrate on having a baby and wait a year to teach. I also realize that being a first-year teacher would be very stressful if I had to take 8 weeks off - especially in special education, where the legalities of paperwork and annual meetings do not pause for maternity leave. I know I couldn't be the kind of teacher that I want to be if I tried to do it all.
Funny...my mom reminded me a couple of weeks ago that during the process of applying for my program, I was so reluctant to go back to school, which I knew would mean giving up being home full-time with the boys. She reminded me of how I sat across from her over lunch the day of my orientation and cried because I wasn't ready for that season of my life to be over. I have loved nothing as much as being a full-time mom. "What would you have said if I told you then", she asked me, "that you would spend two years in school, and then get a year off to have a baby and stay home with the baby?" I thought about that. Actually, it would have been a great comfort and something to look forward to. So my whole dilemma over whether or not to work? I've decided it was more about expectations. And, as my wise sister Heather reminded me, sometimes you have to shift your expectations.
So - here we go...this mom's journey has just been re-routed!
I hate the fact that some very good friends will find out this information by reading my blog, and not by me in person, but the fact is that if I waited until I was able to reach everyone, I'd probably be 20 weeks along by the time I was posting about it! I've been wanting to write about this for weeks and weeks, as it has had a huge impact on my plans for the future.
After much debate, which could have been strung out on this blog, but which would have caused you to wonder if I had completely lost my mind (and for awhile, I think I did!), I have decided not to pursue a teaching job for next year. I plan to substitute teach until the baby is born (due December 27th - but more on that later) and take a class (one of the final 3 to finish up my master's). The job search was causing me great anxiety in and of itself, but knowing that if I was hired, I would have to turn around and tell them I need 2 months off was very unsettling. The whole process of interviewing while pregnant and not telling anybody just made me feel like I was duping people. While it's perfectly legal, it's not something I am comfortable with.
When I say that there was "much debate" about what to do next year, what I mean is that I drove every person I know crazy with my hashing and re-hashing of the various scenarios that could take place, based upon me either being employed or unemployed. God bless my sister Megan, also a special ed teacher, who fielded countless questions from me and supported my decision to teach, and then not to teach - also my parents, mother-in-law and other friends who served as sounding boards. My biggest fear, which is that I won't be able to find a job next spring, was cast aside by my adviser (a professor, friend, and mentor). My sheer will to start teaching after 2 years of hard work has now been replaced by the knowledge that I will be a far better wife and mother if I concentrate on having a baby and wait a year to teach. I also realize that being a first-year teacher would be very stressful if I had to take 8 weeks off - especially in special education, where the legalities of paperwork and annual meetings do not pause for maternity leave. I know I couldn't be the kind of teacher that I want to be if I tried to do it all.
Funny...my mom reminded me a couple of weeks ago that during the process of applying for my program, I was so reluctant to go back to school, which I knew would mean giving up being home full-time with the boys. She reminded me of how I sat across from her over lunch the day of my orientation and cried because I wasn't ready for that season of my life to be over. I have loved nothing as much as being a full-time mom. "What would you have said if I told you then", she asked me, "that you would spend two years in school, and then get a year off to have a baby and stay home with the baby?" I thought about that. Actually, it would have been a great comfort and something to look forward to. So my whole dilemma over whether or not to work? I've decided it was more about expectations. And, as my wise sister Heather reminded me, sometimes you have to shift your expectations.
So - here we go...this mom's journey has just been re-routed!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Such Different Kids...
Think that life is just too tough? Has a co-worker or teacher got you down? Connor has the solution...
Connor has been having a bit of a struggle during this past week with going to pre-school. We didn't really realize it until he cried Thursday morning ,starting from when he woke up, about not going to school. On the way to school, realizing that his attendance was inevitable, he asked Stephen when the teacher's aide in his classroom was going to retire. Stephen informed Connor that it would probably be a really long time since she is only in her forties and still has little kids. When he asked Connor why, Connor said "because I don't like her...I want her to retire."
Now first of all, he does like this aide, he's known her for over two years. Her daughter and Kirby are friends and she used to be the aide in Kirby's class. She would be devastated if she thought that for even a second. Seriously though, what 3 year old thinks of off-ing his teacher by getting her to retire?
Hopefully next week will be better for Connor. We just seem to have both ends of the spectrum with the boys. Connor is quiet in school, and we can't get Kirby to pipe down. He got in trouble the second week of school for telling another little boy in the bathroom, "That's some big bootie you've got there!" Honestly, I'm just glad he had the discretion to say it to a little boy and not the teacher!
Connor has been having a bit of a struggle during this past week with going to pre-school. We didn't really realize it until he cried Thursday morning ,starting from when he woke up, about not going to school. On the way to school, realizing that his attendance was inevitable, he asked Stephen when the teacher's aide in his classroom was going to retire. Stephen informed Connor that it would probably be a really long time since she is only in her forties and still has little kids. When he asked Connor why, Connor said "because I don't like her...I want her to retire."
Now first of all, he does like this aide, he's known her for over two years. Her daughter and Kirby are friends and she used to be the aide in Kirby's class. She would be devastated if she thought that for even a second. Seriously though, what 3 year old thinks of off-ing his teacher by getting her to retire?
Hopefully next week will be better for Connor. We just seem to have both ends of the spectrum with the boys. Connor is quiet in school, and we can't get Kirby to pipe down. He got in trouble the second week of school for telling another little boy in the bathroom, "That's some big bootie you've got there!" Honestly, I'm just glad he had the discretion to say it to a little boy and not the teacher!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
First Day of School
I knew the day would come from the moment I first looked at Kirby, but it's hard to believe it came so fast. The first day of kindergarten lived up to all of my expectations; it was a mixture of emotions for me and what I saw as pride on Stephen's face. I'm exhausted, and I feel like I can't properly express myself right now, so I'll just post a few pictures of the day:
Kirby & Connor prepare to leave for school
It was a family affair (my mom took the photo)
An unprompted show of affection for big brother
Kirby & Connor prepare to leave for school
It was a family affair (my mom took the photo)
An unprompted show of affection for big brother
Seeing this statue, as I walked out of the school teary-eyed this morning,
gave me such peace. I realized that our Blessed Lady knows what it is
to have a son, and to begin to let go. I trust in her intercession for our boys.
As we walked to the car after dropping Kirby off,
Connor told us how he can't wait to go to school with him.
I hope one day Kirby realizes how special it is to have a little brother look up to him.
gave me such peace. I realized that our Blessed Lady knows what it is
to have a son, and to begin to let go. I trust in her intercession for our boys.
As we walked to the car after dropping Kirby off,Connor told us how he can't wait to go to school with him.
I hope one day Kirby realizes how special it is to have a little brother look up to him.
A sweet, wise friend once told me that having a child is like watching your heart walking around outside your body. Today, I felt like I was watching my heart, with a little backpack on, walk through the doors to the rest of his life.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
It's That Time Again...
It's that time again - time for a new semester to begin. I have now been at this long enough (going into my 4th semester) that I can recognize some patterns in my own behavior (for lack of a better word). Here's how it goes down:
- Enjoying a break from things hanging over my head, I can easily convince myself that the start of school is far away.
- Slowly, a knot begins to form in my stomach. This knot is made up of stress, excitement, and sadness.
- Two weeks before school starts I still haven't looked to see what books I need, because if I don't buy them then everything stays the way it is. About this time, I begin to get edgy and feel like all of my friends are on a special trip together and I'm not going. This is because they are! They are continuing their normal lives together. It's me who jumps off the merry-go-round of stay-at-home-mom-hood. This inevitably makes me feel sad, like they were all invited to a special party and I wasn't. Intellectually, I know this isn't true, but I always have to remind myself that it's only natural that their lives will go on, regardless of whether or not I'm in them (how's that for an egotistical point of view?).
- The night before classes start, I feel that familiar feeling of butterflies in my stomach - the same one I got in grade school, high school, and college. It's a pretty fun feeling. It's the feeling of possibility opening wide before me.
- Within 3 weeks of classes starting, I'm in a groove, my family's in a groove, and I feel like I'm right where I belong; too busy to worry that my friends might forget about me.
This fall, all of the above is compounded by the fact that Kirby is starting kindergarten. Not only that - he's starting on a day when I'm required to be at my own school where I'll be student teaching (I feel confident that I will be able to break away to see my baby off to school and have the good cry I know is coming). Not only that - it's all-day kindergarten. Now, I know a lot of you out there are fans of all day kindergarten, but I'm not the biggest fan of it. He has a lot of years to go to school all day, you know? However, this will be a very good thing for us, as it will eliminate the need for daycare when I'm student teaching, and he will also be getting a Catholic education, which means a lot to me.
Suffice it to say (have you ever noticed how much I love to say that?), I have a lot of emotions swirling around inside of me. I'm just thankful that Stephen and I are no longer rookies. We've got this thing worked out, and I know that he will step in as usual and do his thing - the thing where he makes it all run smoothly. And this time next year, it will be me starting in a new school all day - as a teacher!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Of Learning and Legacies
I find that since my spring semester ended, I'm less inclined to blog. I think it's because my brain went on hiatus. I started my summer session last week, easing into it with my first class. Next Tuesday I will re-enter the academic world with full force, as I start two more classes. That will be three concurrent classes during a four-week period. Anyone who has stopped long enough for me to bore them with the gory details knows that I'm dreading the next month. Already I'm having such a difficult time staying disciplined to do the work from my one class. I'm going to try hard to grin and bear it for four weeks, knowing I have the sweet reward of a family vacation to New Jersey at the end of it all.
Today I realized just how much of an impression my going to school has left on our boys. Whenever I used to leave by myself, the boys would ask, "Mommy, are you going to sing?" Not that I've done a whole lot of singing over the past few years, but I have managed to wrangle a few gigs with my old band. Now however, they automatically assume I'm "going to school". During the fall semester, as Connor was coping with my absence in his own two year-old way, he would tear at my backpack whenever I entered the house and say "Take it off! Mommy, take off your pack-pack!" Now, he's adapted (and thankfully, I think we all have). Today, as I tidied up the kitchen (my way of compensating for a day of doing nothing but lounging with friends who dropped by to visit, and watching my kids play with their friends), Connor decided he wanted an "office". He asked if I would get him the little table from the basement, so I fetched it and set it up for him. He then told me he needed his "'puter", which, as I soon found out, is the portable DVD player taken out of its case. So I set him up with his own little imaginary computer. He proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes writing on index cards with one of my hi-liters, pretending to type on the DVD player and setting up a railroad track next to his desk as part of his "working job" (he has always loved what he calls "working jobs"). When I went over to ask him what he was drawing on the index cards, he told me that I need to be quiet because "I have to study".
Connor "Studying" in His Office
I know that we all know what an impression we are capable of making on our children, but it is eye-opening to have something fly right in your face. For a moment, I felt panic. "Is this the legacy I'm leaving my children? Are they just going to remember that their mom went to school and holed up in her office studying?" Then I looked at it from another perspective - one I was not capable of seeing only a few months ago. I sensed a bit of pride in Connor. He really felt big playing office and studying. I mean, he and his brother have often pretended to be like their dad and have customers, so why not be like Mom too? For the first time I realized that maybe my kids will look back on this time, even if they don't really remember it, and realize how hard their parents had to work to make it all come together. Maybe they'll realize that we're doing it because we love them and we want the best for them and for our family. It's a bit much to expect that realization any time soon, but when they have kids they'll probably understand. If not, at least I'm able to make myself feel better by telling myself they will.
Today I realized just how much of an impression my going to school has left on our boys. Whenever I used to leave by myself, the boys would ask, "Mommy, are you going to sing?" Not that I've done a whole lot of singing over the past few years, but I have managed to wrangle a few gigs with my old band. Now however, they automatically assume I'm "going to school". During the fall semester, as Connor was coping with my absence in his own two year-old way, he would tear at my backpack whenever I entered the house and say "Take it off! Mommy, take off your pack-pack!" Now, he's adapted (and thankfully, I think we all have). Today, as I tidied up the kitchen (my way of compensating for a day of doing nothing but lounging with friends who dropped by to visit, and watching my kids play with their friends), Connor decided he wanted an "office". He asked if I would get him the little table from the basement, so I fetched it and set it up for him. He then told me he needed his "'puter", which, as I soon found out, is the portable DVD player taken out of its case. So I set him up with his own little imaginary computer. He proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes writing on index cards with one of my hi-liters, pretending to type on the DVD player and setting up a railroad track next to his desk as part of his "working job" (he has always loved what he calls "working jobs"). When I went over to ask him what he was drawing on the index cards, he told me that I need to be quiet because "I have to study".
Connor "Studying" in His OfficeI know that we all know what an impression we are capable of making on our children, but it is eye-opening to have something fly right in your face. For a moment, I felt panic. "Is this the legacy I'm leaving my children? Are they just going to remember that their mom went to school and holed up in her office studying?" Then I looked at it from another perspective - one I was not capable of seeing only a few months ago. I sensed a bit of pride in Connor. He really felt big playing office and studying. I mean, he and his brother have often pretended to be like their dad and have customers, so why not be like Mom too? For the first time I realized that maybe my kids will look back on this time, even if they don't really remember it, and realize how hard their parents had to work to make it all come together. Maybe they'll realize that we're doing it because we love them and we want the best for them and for our family. It's a bit much to expect that realization any time soon, but when they have kids they'll probably understand. If not, at least I'm able to make myself feel better by telling myself they will.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)