Everyone always writes sappy crap about what the previous year has brought, and how this new year is going to be a year of...I dont know...freaking wonderful stuff or something. Everyone is always glowing with anticipation of this new unwrinkled future. I kind of feel that way myself, but I don't want to glow. This "glowing" reminds me of when I was a kid in Kentucky spending time with my grandparents for the summer.
My cousin, brother, and I would always stay a few weeks in Somerset. My grandparents lived in the country, and in the evening we would sit on the front porch with opened Mason jars and wait. We waited for the lightening bugs to come out to play. These little magical bugs would appear slowly at first...a blink here, and a blink there. Then all of the sudden, they would be everywhere. The boys and I would run around the yard jumping and shouting in the night air, with nothing but the echo of our voices and the crickets making noise. After a few minutes we would begin our attempts to catch a lightening bug. I can remember sealing the Mason jar, and staring at the bug so close that my nose touched the glass. No matter how many air holes we poked in the metal lids of our jars, the little burst of light never made it to morning. Instead of waking to a continued magic, we woke to nothing but a shallow vessel filled with silenced insects. The romance had worn thin through out the veil of our summer night, and left us void.
Maybe this description is kind of dramatic, but I find it a fitting illustration. I don't want to wake up on Dec. 31, 2010 feeling void from another year filled with hopeful dreams that lay flat in the wake of my real life decisions. The definition of glow is "a light emitted by, or as if by a substance heated to luminosity." Emitted. To give forth, or release. Well, this year...I don't want to give my light away. I don't want to release it. I want it for myself; to last all year long. I want to sustain my motivation that pushed me to make resolutions for myself.
After thinking it through, I have decided on some personal goals for myself this year. In order to sustain my light, they aren't crazy, out of control, never going to reach when thinking in terms of reality goals. They are simple and meaningful goals that I can take one day to the next, while leaving no luminescence behind. Only leaving "the void" behind to echo in the dark without me.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Thursday, December 31, 2009
New Year Upon Us...
"Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each New Year find you a better man." - Benjamin Franklin
We have been out of town for the Christmas holiday, enjoying time with our family in Florida. It was a great trip, and I felt truly blessed to be surrounded by such special loved ones. It was a fantastic trip.
We returned home on Tuesday evening with plans brewing for another New Year's Day brunch. We had one two years ago, and had planned to make it annual. Last year, everything got in our path making it impossible. This year was a good year to revive the tradition. As the original brunch, we invited the Nichols' family and Plemon's family.
Since we put our suitcases down, we have have been cleaning and organizing. I've been so busy this semester that, sadly, cleaning has been put on the back burner. Things were always NEAT, but CLEAN...not so much. I went in full force with the deep clean. Needless to say, after two days of battle....the toothbrush (favorite cleaning tool) and I have won the war against dust/dirt.
All of this was to preface the fact that I haven't really had time to sit and think about the new year creeping in through the door. I finally sat down long enough to mess about a bit on the computer, and I found this quote by Ben Franklin. After thinking about it for a few minutes, it's been decided...this is my moto for 2010. I am still thinking about what this new year will mean for me, and how to make it the best year possible. I will get back to you on that one... As for now, be safe and have a lovely New Year's Eve. Here's hoping the new year will find you bright eyed and ready to fly.
Much love- Paperwings
We have been out of town for the Christmas holiday, enjoying time with our family in Florida. It was a great trip, and I felt truly blessed to be surrounded by such special loved ones. It was a fantastic trip.
We returned home on Tuesday evening with plans brewing for another New Year's Day brunch. We had one two years ago, and had planned to make it annual. Last year, everything got in our path making it impossible. This year was a good year to revive the tradition. As the original brunch, we invited the Nichols' family and Plemon's family.
Since we put our suitcases down, we have have been cleaning and organizing. I've been so busy this semester that, sadly, cleaning has been put on the back burner. Things were always NEAT, but CLEAN...not so much. I went in full force with the deep clean. Needless to say, after two days of battle....the toothbrush (favorite cleaning tool) and I have won the war against dust/dirt.
All of this was to preface the fact that I haven't really had time to sit and think about the new year creeping in through the door. I finally sat down long enough to mess about a bit on the computer, and I found this quote by Ben Franklin. After thinking about it for a few minutes, it's been decided...this is my moto for 2010. I am still thinking about what this new year will mean for me, and how to make it the best year possible. I will get back to you on that one... As for now, be safe and have a lovely New Year's Eve. Here's hoping the new year will find you bright eyed and ready to fly.
Much love- Paperwings
Friday, August 7, 2009
Age Gracefully?
Here is another piece I wrote back in June of 2007. I dont think many had a chance to read it on MySpace, so here ya go...
I know this may sound a little absurd, but I don't think of myself as "old" or "older." Does anyone think of themselves that way? I guess, at a certain age you begin to realize on a more physical level that your body is slowly deteriorating, heading towards death, but…it hadn't happened to me. When I turned thirty, I wasn't really bothered by it. When I turned thirty-one, it didn't cross my mind that I was leaving "twenty-something" so far behind. It wasn't until just the other day that I actually began to think about the fact that I will soon be (dun dun DUNNNNNNN) thirty-two!
Thirty-two, as in eight years from FORTY seems really out there. Maybe because most of my friends that I spend time with on a daily basis are younger than me. Most of my friends range from twenty-three to twenty-eight years old. There might be a twenty-nine thrown in the mix here or there, but it's rare. I don't even know how I ended up the matriarch of a group like this. I didn't search out a "younger crowd." I suppose most of it just goes back to good 'ole time/place/situation. In any case, talking about having pups as friends is not my purpose here.
I am sitting on the floor of my child's room with a friend, she's younger of course, and both of our boys are playing. We are talking about another couple we know, and the fact is brought up that the wife looks older than the husband. "Well, she is THIRTY!" my friend cries out. I am appalled. I am shocked. I am THIRTY-ONE. "Stop right there!" I shout back. We then begin to discuss my age, and she is now the shocked one to realize that I am SO OLD.
This got me thinking, about age, numbers, wrinkles, cellulite, all sorts of things. I had an epiphany. It's been a long time a COM' in, but I made it. Here it is world, listen up…I am thirty-one years old and loving it. I wouldn't go back to twenty-something for anything in the world. Seriously. Let me clarify, those days weren't awful, but truth be told, I am much happier now than then. There is a wisdom that comes with age, and with making stupid choices and having to rectify them. I think maybe I have picked up a little of that, I dare say. Then there is the whole self-esteem bit. Ok, so I realize I am still a little obsessive about "keeping the package together", but here's the difference. Back then I could never figure out when I had it together and when I didn't. What I am saying is that, without trying to sound full of myself because that isn't it, I finally see myself for what I truly am. I am a freaking good catch! I am not flawless, by no means, but hell if I don't look damn good compared to some…most. ? I don't say that to look down on anyone else, I say that to appreciate myself, which is something I never could have done in my twenties.
In my twenties, I moved around, traveled, and met tons of new friends. I met my husband. I married my husband, and bought my first home. That was an amazing time. However, it's just now that we have really focused on our spiritual, financial, and family goals. We are happier and healthier now than we have ever been, and so much of that I am able to contribute because I am ok with me. Maybe this isn't the same for everyone. Surely there are people out there that don't wait until their thirties to feel comfortable within themselves, but this is how it worked for me.
Come November, I will take another step closer to forty and that's cool with me. I feel good, I am healthy, and I love my husband, son, friends, and family. This is a place that I am ok being; so don't cry for me all you twenty-somethings. There won't be weeping, or gnashing of teeth in my honor. It will be just another reason to throw a party, and watch my young friends break it down on the dance floor.
Thirty-two, as in eight years from FORTY seems really out there. Maybe because most of my friends that I spend time with on a daily basis are younger than me. Most of my friends range from twenty-three to twenty-eight years old. There might be a twenty-nine thrown in the mix here or there, but it's rare. I don't even know how I ended up the matriarch of a group like this. I didn't search out a "younger crowd." I suppose most of it just goes back to good 'ole time/place/situation. In any case, talking about having pups as friends is not my purpose here.
I am sitting on the floor of my child's room with a friend, she's younger of course, and both of our boys are playing. We are talking about another couple we know, and the fact is brought up that the wife looks older than the husband. "Well, she is THIRTY!" my friend cries out. I am appalled. I am shocked. I am THIRTY-ONE. "Stop right there!" I shout back. We then begin to discuss my age, and she is now the shocked one to realize that I am SO OLD.
This got me thinking, about age, numbers, wrinkles, cellulite, all sorts of things. I had an epiphany. It's been a long time a COM' in, but I made it. Here it is world, listen up…I am thirty-one years old and loving it. I wouldn't go back to twenty-something for anything in the world. Seriously. Let me clarify, those days weren't awful, but truth be told, I am much happier now than then. There is a wisdom that comes with age, and with making stupid choices and having to rectify them. I think maybe I have picked up a little of that, I dare say. Then there is the whole self-esteem bit. Ok, so I realize I am still a little obsessive about "keeping the package together", but here's the difference. Back then I could never figure out when I had it together and when I didn't. What I am saying is that, without trying to sound full of myself because that isn't it, I finally see myself for what I truly am. I am a freaking good catch! I am not flawless, by no means, but hell if I don't look damn good compared to some…most. ? I don't say that to look down on anyone else, I say that to appreciate myself, which is something I never could have done in my twenties.
In my twenties, I moved around, traveled, and met tons of new friends. I met my husband. I married my husband, and bought my first home. That was an amazing time. However, it's just now that we have really focused on our spiritual, financial, and family goals. We are happier and healthier now than we have ever been, and so much of that I am able to contribute because I am ok with me. Maybe this isn't the same for everyone. Surely there are people out there that don't wait until their thirties to feel comfortable within themselves, but this is how it worked for me.
Come November, I will take another step closer to forty and that's cool with me. I feel good, I am healthy, and I love my husband, son, friends, and family. This is a place that I am ok being; so don't cry for me all you twenty-somethings. There won't be weeping, or gnashing of teeth in my honor. It will be just another reason to throw a party, and watch my young friends break it down on the dance floor.
Monday, August 3, 2009
So Long, My Sweet Friend
I actually wrote this Aug. 9, 2007, but I figured I would pull it out of the old archives of myspace for your reading enjoyment. It fits pretty well for right now.... ;)
Here we go...school starts on Monday. MONDAY. As in three days from now, MONDAY. Where did the sweet days of sunshine and cool breezes go? The current sweltering heat, that is killing my impatiens because I cant stand over them with a watering can all day long, seems to be foreshadowing the end of a good thing. Summer. It's as if Mother Earth knows that I will be locked up in a brick box for the next 10 months, so she is trying to be kind. She is releasing the seventh level of hell, so that the brick box will, in turn, seem...inviting.
It's not that I hate my job, not at all. In fact, I have high hopes for this coming school year. I feel good about it. I am excited about beginning anew. There are new folders with crisp edges that haven't been torn, stacks of unused paper, sharpened pencils waiting to be used for good, clean composition books yearning for small hands to write their lives in them...oh the expectations! It's just that there wasn't enough summer. I hadn't had my fill just yet. My son's scrapbook hasn't been completed, and my tan is no where near "golden." The floor in my kitchen is still screaming to be redone, and for the love of God, I haven't finished Harry Potter. I want more time. I need more time.
It doesn't look like I am getting any more time. Three days. That is all I have, folks. Guess where I will be spending all of those days, save one? In the box, getting ready for the big day. Ahhhh, such is life.
It's not that I hate my job, not at all. In fact, I have high hopes for this coming school year. I feel good about it. I am excited about beginning anew. There are new folders with crisp edges that haven't been torn, stacks of unused paper, sharpened pencils waiting to be used for good, clean composition books yearning for small hands to write their lives in them...oh the expectations! It's just that there wasn't enough summer. I hadn't had my fill just yet. My son's scrapbook hasn't been completed, and my tan is no where near "golden." The floor in my kitchen is still screaming to be redone, and for the love of God, I haven't finished Harry Potter. I want more time. I need more time.
It doesn't look like I am getting any more time. Three days. That is all I have, folks. Guess where I will be spending all of those days, save one? In the box, getting ready for the big day. Ahhhh, such is life.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
The Alchemist
I have an inkling to write, but I am not sure what to write about. What's truly on my mind is a bit too personal to broadcast, so I am kind of at a loss. This brings me to the idea that I should use a writing strategy ( Ah HA!) that I teach my students to use. Genius. Let's see if any of these strategies actually produce anything blog worthy. :) "Writing off of Literature" is the chosen strategy for the day, so here we go...
Anyone ever heard of the book, The Alchemist? This was Erika's pick for book club last month. I had heard of it before, but I didn't realize how popular this book was. Or how widely spread this publication was. It's sold over 65 million copies in 150 countries, and is one of the best selling books in history. Wow. I had no idea. Having read all of that information on the front cover, I was really intrigued to read it and find out what all the fuss was about.
What I found was that within the confines of this book, there was no fuss. Yes, this was a brilliant book, but brilliant in a simple way. I suppose that is why it has become so popular. It's a book that anyone can read and take something away from. The ideas are not complex, and it's quite an easy read. I read it over a span of two days, and enjoyed it immensely.
The story follows a boy, Santiago, through his journey to find his "personal legend." This might be considered what we today call our "dream" or "life purpose," but I found that the more I read about Santiago the more I really liked calling it a personal legend. It kind of gives it a mythical quality, and to some that might make it seem unattainable, but to me it lends itself more to adventure.
Santiago travels across the desert, and finds himself in many different situations. At every destination he finds reasons, logical, good reasons, to stop his journey. He could create a life where he is and be comfortable. However, he treads on knowing that he will regret in the end if he doesn't continue seeking. He uses omens to guide him, and learns how to integrate himself into the nature of the world. He learns to allow his heart to speak to him, and he learns to truly know his heart.
As I read, I began thinking about my own "personal legend." Was I seeking it? Had it been fulfilled? I had a feeling of "Is this it?" pertaining to my own professional life. I know that teaching is something that I enjoy and I am good at it. I know that my heart is with these urban kids. But AM I fulfilled? Santiago found things that he was good at and enjoyed, but they weren't his personal legend. There was something more for him. Is there more for me? I guess in a way, it kind of woke me up out of a coma of daily routine. What have I been doing for that last nine years? Where am I going in the next nine? Will I be happy if I end those next nine in the same place? It's really a lot to ask yourself, and it's not always a pleasant conversation, if you are brutally honest.
There is a deep spiritual side to this book, and I was glad to see that. Again, I could parallel my life with Santiago. I am learning to relax and know that I may have these questions about my own life. I know that if it is something I seek God's guidance in, I will find the answers to my questions. God will lead me on to the next destination even if I feel fine where I am at. Looking back, I can see He has already done this numerous times. I just wasn't paying enough attention, and maybe that is just it. Maybe that is how Santiago became so connected with the earth and her elements. By sheer observation and allowing himself to be completely aware of his environment. I know by nature, I am not extremely observant. There is a tendency in my life to focus on what is right in front of me, to let the rest of the world become a blur around me. I realize now, that there is a need for me to make a conscious effort to change this. I want to see beyond me.
Along with Santiago, I took a journey myself while reading this book. I don't know all the answers, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't question. It just means I should use God's path to discover what's next, and understand that the walk will make me stronger once I am there.
Anyone ever heard of the book, The Alchemist? This was Erika's pick for book club last month. I had heard of it before, but I didn't realize how popular this book was. Or how widely spread this publication was. It's sold over 65 million copies in 150 countries, and is one of the best selling books in history. Wow. I had no idea. Having read all of that information on the front cover, I was really intrigued to read it and find out what all the fuss was about.
What I found was that within the confines of this book, there was no fuss. Yes, this was a brilliant book, but brilliant in a simple way. I suppose that is why it has become so popular. It's a book that anyone can read and take something away from. The ideas are not complex, and it's quite an easy read. I read it over a span of two days, and enjoyed it immensely.
The story follows a boy, Santiago, through his journey to find his "personal legend." This might be considered what we today call our "dream" or "life purpose," but I found that the more I read about Santiago the more I really liked calling it a personal legend. It kind of gives it a mythical quality, and to some that might make it seem unattainable, but to me it lends itself more to adventure.
Santiago travels across the desert, and finds himself in many different situations. At every destination he finds reasons, logical, good reasons, to stop his journey. He could create a life where he is and be comfortable. However, he treads on knowing that he will regret in the end if he doesn't continue seeking. He uses omens to guide him, and learns how to integrate himself into the nature of the world. He learns to allow his heart to speak to him, and he learns to truly know his heart.
As I read, I began thinking about my own "personal legend." Was I seeking it? Had it been fulfilled? I had a feeling of "Is this it?" pertaining to my own professional life. I know that teaching is something that I enjoy and I am good at it. I know that my heart is with these urban kids. But AM I fulfilled? Santiago found things that he was good at and enjoyed, but they weren't his personal legend. There was something more for him. Is there more for me? I guess in a way, it kind of woke me up out of a coma of daily routine. What have I been doing for that last nine years? Where am I going in the next nine? Will I be happy if I end those next nine in the same place? It's really a lot to ask yourself, and it's not always a pleasant conversation, if you are brutally honest.
There is a deep spiritual side to this book, and I was glad to see that. Again, I could parallel my life with Santiago. I am learning to relax and know that I may have these questions about my own life. I know that if it is something I seek God's guidance in, I will find the answers to my questions. God will lead me on to the next destination even if I feel fine where I am at. Looking back, I can see He has already done this numerous times. I just wasn't paying enough attention, and maybe that is just it. Maybe that is how Santiago became so connected with the earth and her elements. By sheer observation and allowing himself to be completely aware of his environment. I know by nature, I am not extremely observant. There is a tendency in my life to focus on what is right in front of me, to let the rest of the world become a blur around me. I realize now, that there is a need for me to make a conscious effort to change this. I want to see beyond me.
Along with Santiago, I took a journey myself while reading this book. I don't know all the answers, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't question. It just means I should use God's path to discover what's next, and understand that the walk will make me stronger once I am there.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
So What Am I Doing?
It's late. I can't be held accountable for what this blog may say. This is my disclaimer.
It's the second day of spring break. I am starting to think that I could totally get use to this "Stay at home mom" business. As long as I could create a schedule full of outings, so I wouldn't go stir crazy...sure I could do it.
BUT...would I miss my crazy kids at school? Probably a little. Would I miss my strongly binded school based friendships that I have spent so long cultivating? Absolutely. Would I be doing a disservice to myself to be letting go of a gift that God bestowed on me? (teaching) I dont know. I would like to think, I mean, I know that my child is more important. Obviously, but would I be able to be the mother that I am if part of me disappeared? That I do not know. Is any of this a real issue since I will never be a stay at home mom? NOPE.
Sorry. I am rambling. It's 12:15 in the am, and I can't sleep. I have ten million things going on in my head, and it's creating quite the wall between me and my dreams. I am thinking about how much I want another child. How I hope this will be the month. How I dont understand why it's taking so long this time, since I only had to think pregnant before I became pregnant with Cash. I am thinking, "What is God thinking."
I am deciding what to wear tomorrow. I am already (after two days) tired of t-shirts and jeans. Since Cash and I are going to visit his dad at work for lunch, I figure it's a great time to wear my new skirt. I am debating on what color to paint my toe nails, as it's finally time for them to come out of their deep winter coma. I am wishing that my mama could be here for Easter again this year.
I am mentally renovating my home. I am mentally putting together shots for my photoblog. I am mentally planning the educational book that Lindsay and I are going to write. I am mentally getting myself ready to NOT gain 60 llbs. if I DO get pregnant. Actually, I am mentally willing myself to loose 10 llbs ASAP. Pregnant or not. Maybe I am just mental.
I am grieving over that fact that I have, at least 8 good hours of homework that must be done before this week is over. I am thinking over the pro's and con's of a subaru vs. a volvo wagon. I am trying to decide on the significance of the dream I had the other night that put me back in high school with Tyler Goodlad. Seriously, TYLER GOODLAD. What the heck?
Ok, I am thinking that you get it. I cant sleep. Mind going, literally, 90 miles an hour. Me hoping typing out my train of thought will somehow zap it all out of me, and I will once again be able to join Tyler Goodlad for lunch (platonic, of course) in my dreams. :)
Wishing you all a better night's rest...
It's the second day of spring break. I am starting to think that I could totally get use to this "Stay at home mom" business. As long as I could create a schedule full of outings, so I wouldn't go stir crazy...sure I could do it.
BUT...would I miss my crazy kids at school? Probably a little. Would I miss my strongly binded school based friendships that I have spent so long cultivating? Absolutely. Would I be doing a disservice to myself to be letting go of a gift that God bestowed on me? (teaching) I dont know. I would like to think, I mean, I know that my child is more important. Obviously, but would I be able to be the mother that I am if part of me disappeared? That I do not know. Is any of this a real issue since I will never be a stay at home mom? NOPE.
Sorry. I am rambling. It's 12:15 in the am, and I can't sleep. I have ten million things going on in my head, and it's creating quite the wall between me and my dreams. I am thinking about how much I want another child. How I hope this will be the month. How I dont understand why it's taking so long this time, since I only had to think pregnant before I became pregnant with Cash. I am thinking, "What is God thinking."
I am deciding what to wear tomorrow. I am already (after two days) tired of t-shirts and jeans. Since Cash and I are going to visit his dad at work for lunch, I figure it's a great time to wear my new skirt. I am debating on what color to paint my toe nails, as it's finally time for them to come out of their deep winter coma. I am wishing that my mama could be here for Easter again this year.
I am mentally renovating my home. I am mentally putting together shots for my photoblog. I am mentally planning the educational book that Lindsay and I are going to write. I am mentally getting myself ready to NOT gain 60 llbs. if I DO get pregnant. Actually, I am mentally willing myself to loose 10 llbs ASAP. Pregnant or not. Maybe I am just mental.
I am grieving over that fact that I have, at least 8 good hours of homework that must be done before this week is over. I am thinking over the pro's and con's of a subaru vs. a volvo wagon. I am trying to decide on the significance of the dream I had the other night that put me back in high school with Tyler Goodlad. Seriously, TYLER GOODLAD. What the heck?
Ok, I am thinking that you get it. I cant sleep. Mind going, literally, 90 miles an hour. Me hoping typing out my train of thought will somehow zap it all out of me, and I will once again be able to join Tyler Goodlad for lunch (platonic, of course) in my dreams. :)
Wishing you all a better night's rest...
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Crazy vs Normal
One of my fifth grade students was taken away to juvy in the back of a police car. It was a crazy day.
Taty joined my class just before Christmas. She's kind of an odd girl, always wide-eyed and sort of spacey. But she seemed nice enough, and although kind of annoying, harmless. Up until today, all I knew was that she lived in a foster home, and had just relocated to this home when she came to my school.
As the days have gone by, Taty's behavior had gotten progressively worse. She became very paranoid and argumentative with other students. There was always someone wronging her in some way, yet, she was always the one doing the talking. She began speaking to me disrespectfully and talking back when I would call her out on a behavior. Last Thursday, I had had enough and asked her to go next door to complete a behavior form. To make a long story short...she refused and the vice principal had to escort her out of my classroom. I was forced to write a referral on her. After having a bad day yesterday and a bad morning today, I figured it was time that I call her foster mom. I had assumed that the principal had already called her last week, otherwise I would have called her before this point.
I asked Taty to come back to the room with me to call her foster mom before she went into the cafeteria for lunch. We headed back to the room, sat down, and made the call. After talking to her foster mom for about two or three minutes, I realized that mom had no idea that Taty had been written up the previous week. I was really irritated that my VP hadn't called, as this makes us all look irresponsible. Nice. I begin to go into detail about what happened, and Taty starts to cry. She screams out, "I hate you!" Her anger is directed to me. She gets up, and storms out of the room. Her mom asks if she should come down to get Taty. I agree that this might be the best idea. Let Taty cool down the rest of the day and come back tomorrow ready to shape up. I get off the phone with the foster mom, and head out to find Taty.
After searching the school for thirty minutes, YES! thirty minutes, I finally find Taty. She is at the front door of the school, and she is talking to her mom who has just arrived. I can hear the mom asking her questions about her behavior. Taty looks up, and spots me. Then she gets up off of the floor she has been sitting on, and darts out the schools front doors. Fantastic.
The mom tells me that she is not going to go after her, that the police can pick her up. POLICE? She says that this is the normal protocol for this sort of thing. We go outside, and sure enough, she is no where to be found. Five minutes later, a cop car pulls up with Taty in the back seat. The police officer just happen to be driving by about a block away and saw her walking down the street. The officer called out to her, and she attempted to run from him! Imagine. He got her in the car, but not before she kicked him.
The foster mom didn't want to let her out of the car for fear of Taty trying to run again. She tells me that Taty has been in four foster homes since August. The system keeps having to place her in different homes because Taty keeps running away. The foster mom decides to call the social worker that is involved with Taty to try to help out. At this point, I had to go back inside to my own classroom. I was told later that the social worker never showed, and through one call and then another...the police were directed to take Taty to juvy.
All of this because I called a parent. I am not real sure how to feel about it all. On one hand, I really feel sorry for this little girl. She has obviously had family issues, and is acting out because of this. Then on the other hand, these are her actions and she must understand that there are consequences. Am I am horrible person for thinking that? Have I worked so long in inner city that my heart is becoming hard?
This is my fifth grade classroom. There are children who have problems with reading, and there are kids who hate math. There are masturbating selective mutes, and students who tell about their 14 year old sisters having babies. There are boys who have never met their fathers, and girls who have already had sex. There is a narcoleptic, and a southern belle. These kids make me look normal. Crazy day? Every day.
Taty joined my class just before Christmas. She's kind of an odd girl, always wide-eyed and sort of spacey. But she seemed nice enough, and although kind of annoying, harmless. Up until today, all I knew was that she lived in a foster home, and had just relocated to this home when she came to my school.
As the days have gone by, Taty's behavior had gotten progressively worse. She became very paranoid and argumentative with other students. There was always someone wronging her in some way, yet, she was always the one doing the talking. She began speaking to me disrespectfully and talking back when I would call her out on a behavior. Last Thursday, I had had enough and asked her to go next door to complete a behavior form. To make a long story short...she refused and the vice principal had to escort her out of my classroom. I was forced to write a referral on her. After having a bad day yesterday and a bad morning today, I figured it was time that I call her foster mom. I had assumed that the principal had already called her last week, otherwise I would have called her before this point.
I asked Taty to come back to the room with me to call her foster mom before she went into the cafeteria for lunch. We headed back to the room, sat down, and made the call. After talking to her foster mom for about two or three minutes, I realized that mom had no idea that Taty had been written up the previous week. I was really irritated that my VP hadn't called, as this makes us all look irresponsible. Nice. I begin to go into detail about what happened, and Taty starts to cry. She screams out, "I hate you!" Her anger is directed to me. She gets up, and storms out of the room. Her mom asks if she should come down to get Taty. I agree that this might be the best idea. Let Taty cool down the rest of the day and come back tomorrow ready to shape up. I get off the phone with the foster mom, and head out to find Taty.
After searching the school for thirty minutes, YES! thirty minutes, I finally find Taty. She is at the front door of the school, and she is talking to her mom who has just arrived. I can hear the mom asking her questions about her behavior. Taty looks up, and spots me. Then she gets up off of the floor she has been sitting on, and darts out the schools front doors. Fantastic.
The mom tells me that she is not going to go after her, that the police can pick her up. POLICE? She says that this is the normal protocol for this sort of thing. We go outside, and sure enough, she is no where to be found. Five minutes later, a cop car pulls up with Taty in the back seat. The police officer just happen to be driving by about a block away and saw her walking down the street. The officer called out to her, and she attempted to run from him! Imagine. He got her in the car, but not before she kicked him.
The foster mom didn't want to let her out of the car for fear of Taty trying to run again. She tells me that Taty has been in four foster homes since August. The system keeps having to place her in different homes because Taty keeps running away. The foster mom decides to call the social worker that is involved with Taty to try to help out. At this point, I had to go back inside to my own classroom. I was told later that the social worker never showed, and through one call and then another...the police were directed to take Taty to juvy.
All of this because I called a parent. I am not real sure how to feel about it all. On one hand, I really feel sorry for this little girl. She has obviously had family issues, and is acting out because of this. Then on the other hand, these are her actions and she must understand that there are consequences. Am I am horrible person for thinking that? Have I worked so long in inner city that my heart is becoming hard?
This is my fifth grade classroom. There are children who have problems with reading, and there are kids who hate math. There are masturbating selective mutes, and students who tell about their 14 year old sisters having babies. There are boys who have never met their fathers, and girls who have already had sex. There is a narcoleptic, and a southern belle. These kids make me look normal. Crazy day? Every day.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Ready to Go
It' Monday morning, and I am feeling a bit sluggish. I only had one cup of coffee this morning, rather than my usual 2 to 3. I am trying to cut back on the caffeine, and I am totally feeling it. This weekend went by all together too quickly, but it was pretty jammed with activity.
Friday night we (Andre, Cash, and I) had dinner with Ike and Amy at Market St. Tavern. It was really good to hang out with them. They are a couple that I always enjoy spending time with. We ended up back at our house for coffee and more conversation. One thing that I really love about Ike and Amy is just watching their interaction with each other. I think they are one of the sweetest couples I have ever met. It is just written all over them that they are in love. They are super considerate of each other, and just plain precious without being obnoxious. Their first baby boy will be arriving soon, and they are tremendously excited. It was a reminder of how I felt just before having Cash.
Saturday I had planned on taking Cash to Isabel's birthday party, and then on to Paula's baby shower, but plans changed at the last minute. My friend, Lynnette, came in from Nashville for the day. She has been going through some heavy stuff emotionally, and really needed some time for us to just talk. Since Lynnette is one of my two oldest friends, and my dearest, I felt like she won priority over everything else. It was good for us both to just spend time with each other. It was exactly what I needed, and hopefully what she did too. I think we both felt lighter when we parted.
Sunday arrived bringing a visiting Bishop to our church to speak. Bishop Boosada. (Interesting name, huh?) I love to hear Bishop B. speak. He kind of looks like Ted Danson, just to give you a mental image. He spoke on seeing clearly. Hearing God clearly. Afterward, we were suppose to meet another couple for lunch. We have been trying to get together with Stephen and Sarah for weeks, but we are all so busy it has been hard. Finally, we had a plan and, of course, this was the day that we got out of church super late. Luckily, they were running late, too. Anyway, it was a tasty lunch, and really nice to see them. They are another couple that we always have a great time with. They have a new born, Finn, and he is a total cutie. I wish I had more time in my life to incorporate Sarah into. We are just getting to be close, and I would love to be able to connect with her more often. She has a great heart and is a really creative person. I love her outlook on life, and her genuine care for doing what is right.
We made it home yesterday, and the weather was actually pretty nice out. We had time to play with Cash outside. He loves outside. Andre threw a frisbee around, and I took pictures of the sweetest little boy I have ever met. One of my two great loves. My husband being the second, of course.
Although physically I am a little weak, the weekend did rejuvenated me in many ways. It prepared me for this upcoming week of busy days, and short evenings. It helped me regain perspective on my local friendships, and filled my thankful heart for the longevity of other friendships. I love my husband. I love my child. I love my friends and my life. I am ready for the week.
Friday night we (Andre, Cash, and I) had dinner with Ike and Amy at Market St. Tavern. It was really good to hang out with them. They are a couple that I always enjoy spending time with. We ended up back at our house for coffee and more conversation. One thing that I really love about Ike and Amy is just watching their interaction with each other. I think they are one of the sweetest couples I have ever met. It is just written all over them that they are in love. They are super considerate of each other, and just plain precious without being obnoxious. Their first baby boy will be arriving soon, and they are tremendously excited. It was a reminder of how I felt just before having Cash.
Saturday I had planned on taking Cash to Isabel's birthday party, and then on to Paula's baby shower, but plans changed at the last minute. My friend, Lynnette, came in from Nashville for the day. She has been going through some heavy stuff emotionally, and really needed some time for us to just talk. Since Lynnette is one of my two oldest friends, and my dearest, I felt like she won priority over everything else. It was good for us both to just spend time with each other. It was exactly what I needed, and hopefully what she did too. I think we both felt lighter when we parted.
Sunday arrived bringing a visiting Bishop to our church to speak. Bishop Boosada. (Interesting name, huh?) I love to hear Bishop B. speak. He kind of looks like Ted Danson, just to give you a mental image. He spoke on seeing clearly. Hearing God clearly. Afterward, we were suppose to meet another couple for lunch. We have been trying to get together with Stephen and Sarah for weeks, but we are all so busy it has been hard. Finally, we had a plan and, of course, this was the day that we got out of church super late. Luckily, they were running late, too. Anyway, it was a tasty lunch, and really nice to see them. They are another couple that we always have a great time with. They have a new born, Finn, and he is a total cutie. I wish I had more time in my life to incorporate Sarah into. We are just getting to be close, and I would love to be able to connect with her more often. She has a great heart and is a really creative person. I love her outlook on life, and her genuine care for doing what is right.
We made it home yesterday, and the weather was actually pretty nice out. We had time to play with Cash outside. He loves outside. Andre threw a frisbee around, and I took pictures of the sweetest little boy I have ever met. One of my two great loves. My husband being the second, of course.
Although physically I am a little weak, the weekend did rejuvenated me in many ways. It prepared me for this upcoming week of busy days, and short evenings. It helped me regain perspective on my local friendships, and filled my thankful heart for the longevity of other friendships. I love my husband. I love my child. I love my friends and my life. I am ready for the week.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Do I know you?
We were sitting in Reynolds's classroom talking while Reynolds cleaned up.She and Dunn were going to see a movie once they left. Delk and I sat at the horseshoe table, and watched Reynolds scurry around the room apologizing for a classroom in disarray. Dunn was anxiously fidgeting with her scarf and coat, only stopping to check her watch. She didn't want to be late. Someone mentioned class on Saturday, and it jolted Dunn's memory. She wanted us to go with her to see 27 Dresses after class. I really wanted to go see this movie, as it is a chic flick and there was no way I would get Andre to take me, but I already had plans to meet some old college friends for lunch. I began my attempt to persuade Dunn to change the date.
Every option that Dunn presented was an option that didn't seem to work for me and my schedule. I finally concluded that this was not going to happen, and I absolved the girls of their obligation to include me on their outing.
Here is where I started thinking.
"You've got too many friends!" Casey shouted to me.
This isn't an odd or profound statement, yet it resided with me. I began thinking a lot about it. Do I have a lot of friends? If I have a lot of friends, why are there periods of time that go by and I feel so alone? It's kind of weird. I mean, I do have a lot of friends. I have school friends, college friends, couple friends, book club friends, friends I grew up with...I spend time with all of these people. I laugh with these people. I talk with these people. I dance with these people. Yet, I wonder if these people really know who I am.
It's quite possible that my melancholy disposition enables me to be a little more dramatic when thinking about this, but there is something to it. How many people really know me? There are lots of folks out there who know parts of me, but mostly it seems like they only know what is laid out on the surface. The stuff that can be scooped up easily, and molded into a piece that fits the niche they have carved out for me. This is kind of a lonely feeling.
Andre knows me, as much as a man can really understand and know a woman. He is my best friend, and I share everything that I am able to share with him. However,I am talking about another realm. Friends. Girlfriends. Part of why I feel like this is because I have always had a sidekick, for a lack of a better word. Growing up it was Lynnette and Becky, college gave me Cindy, Becky Lee, and Kathy, post college time was spent with Erin. Now I am all grown up, a changed person from my youth, and those friends are far away.
I suppose I miss having the sidekick. Realistically, there isn't time for a sidekick. I have family, work, school...but I do miss having a friend that I call or she calls me on a daily basis. Just to chat, talk about what's going on in our domesticated lives. Someone to meet for wine night at Mudpie, someone to yard sale with, someone to craft with, someone to shop at Target with. I miss that intimate interaction that comes from being so close with a friend that you can just hang out at home, doing nothing, and it seems like the best time in the world. I feel like I dont know anyone well enough to do those things with.
My friends that I spend time with now are great. Lovely women who care for me, and I for them. They are people that I would love to get to know better, and allow them to actually know me, too. But we aren't there yet, and this is something that one can't force. All of this leaves me with a small void.
Every option that Dunn presented was an option that didn't seem to work for me and my schedule. I finally concluded that this was not going to happen, and I absolved the girls of their obligation to include me on their outing.
Here is where I started thinking.
"You've got too many friends!" Casey shouted to me.
This isn't an odd or profound statement, yet it resided with me. I began thinking a lot about it. Do I have a lot of friends? If I have a lot of friends, why are there periods of time that go by and I feel so alone? It's kind of weird. I mean, I do have a lot of friends. I have school friends, college friends, couple friends, book club friends, friends I grew up with...I spend time with all of these people. I laugh with these people. I talk with these people. I dance with these people. Yet, I wonder if these people really know who I am.
It's quite possible that my melancholy disposition enables me to be a little more dramatic when thinking about this, but there is something to it. How many people really know me? There are lots of folks out there who know parts of me, but mostly it seems like they only know what is laid out on the surface. The stuff that can be scooped up easily, and molded into a piece that fits the niche they have carved out for me. This is kind of a lonely feeling.
Andre knows me, as much as a man can really understand and know a woman. He is my best friend, and I share everything that I am able to share with him. However,I am talking about another realm. Friends. Girlfriends. Part of why I feel like this is because I have always had a sidekick, for a lack of a better word. Growing up it was Lynnette and Becky, college gave me Cindy, Becky Lee, and Kathy, post college time was spent with Erin. Now I am all grown up, a changed person from my youth, and those friends are far away.
I suppose I miss having the sidekick. Realistically, there isn't time for a sidekick. I have family, work, school...but I do miss having a friend that I call or she calls me on a daily basis. Just to chat, talk about what's going on in our domesticated lives. Someone to meet for wine night at Mudpie, someone to yard sale with, someone to craft with, someone to shop at Target with. I miss that intimate interaction that comes from being so close with a friend that you can just hang out at home, doing nothing, and it seems like the best time in the world. I feel like I dont know anyone well enough to do those things with.
My friends that I spend time with now are great. Lovely women who care for me, and I for them. They are people that I would love to get to know better, and allow them to actually know me, too. But we aren't there yet, and this is something that one can't force. All of this leaves me with a small void.
Monday, December 31, 2007
And I Begin Again
It is kind of fitting that I begin this blog on the verge of a new year. It fits in nicely with my resolution. Usually, I have grand visions of me losing weight, and becoming sickening thin. Yeah, it's as absurd as it sounds, but it is the truth. I always wanted to be so thin that people would mention it. "You're looking TOO thin these days." "You're SOO tiny." Imagine. I am a bit obsessed with the weight issue, but don't worry too much. I am more obsessed with food, so it kind of balances out. Anyway, lose weight, work out, eat right, yada yada yada. These are my normal resolutions. I attempt them half heartedly, and within a couple of months...gone. The resolutions become "What I could do if I had more time and money." I lack discipline. Maybe I just don't care enough to follow through. Maybe it really is a matter of time and money. Oh well, those resolutions are off the table. Obviously, they weren't happening, so I decided to rethink my position.
For some time now, I have been thinking about me. Who I am, what I am about, what I do with my time and energy. I came to this conclusion. I DON'T DO ANYTHING. At least, not for me. There isn't anything in my life that is solely there for my personal enrichment. All of the things I use to do, all the creative endeavors, have been pushed aside. There really has been a huge time issue. Teaching all day, tutoring afterward, going to grad. school, having a baby, being a wife, keeping up a house...it has all but swallowed me whole. I am no where to be found. All that is left is this hollow person who does what she has to do. This person who is so sucked up by responsibility that her voice is barely audible. I can't even hear her anymore. This is sounding a little dramatic, and that isn't where I was headed. I love my family. I love my job. (I do not love my master's program, but it's almost over.) I am content with life. However, there is an urge for more. There is a desire for personal development. That is where my resolution comes in.
My New Years resolution is simple. I challenge myself to find ME, again. Sounds corny, right? "I need to find myself." Cliche? Yeah, maybe. But it's true. Not in some dreamy, whimsical kind of way. Just in a down to earth, real kind of way. I want to be creative again. I want to find things to do with my time that are productive, and fulfilling. I want to make things, write things, become more aware of what is around me. I want to feel like I am living. No more sleepwalking.
This is my first step. Paper Wings.
For some time now, I have been thinking about me. Who I am, what I am about, what I do with my time and energy. I came to this conclusion. I DON'T DO ANYTHING. At least, not for me. There isn't anything in my life that is solely there for my personal enrichment. All of the things I use to do, all the creative endeavors, have been pushed aside. There really has been a huge time issue. Teaching all day, tutoring afterward, going to grad. school, having a baby, being a wife, keeping up a house...it has all but swallowed me whole. I am no where to be found. All that is left is this hollow person who does what she has to do. This person who is so sucked up by responsibility that her voice is barely audible. I can't even hear her anymore. This is sounding a little dramatic, and that isn't where I was headed. I love my family. I love my job. (I do not love my master's program, but it's almost over.) I am content with life. However, there is an urge for more. There is a desire for personal development. That is where my resolution comes in.
My New Years resolution is simple. I challenge myself to find ME, again. Sounds corny, right? "I need to find myself." Cliche? Yeah, maybe. But it's true. Not in some dreamy, whimsical kind of way. Just in a down to earth, real kind of way. I want to be creative again. I want to find things to do with my time that are productive, and fulfilling. I want to make things, write things, become more aware of what is around me. I want to feel like I am living. No more sleepwalking.
This is my first step. Paper Wings.
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