Good Bye 2011

First, goodbye holidays; and I have to say thank goodness! It's always great to be with the family during the holidays, but it's always so great to have it finished! It's fascinating to me that my sister and I were raised by the same parents, but when we all get together for more than two days, all of our differences come out in a big way. And boy can it get stressful! Please let me remember that when my kids become adults if I go visit I do not stay more than three days. Three is the magic number. So, I blow the holidays a big kiss goodbye.

I have two resolutions. I want to write an hour everyday, no matter what. It's going to be tough on the days I teach and have the kids. I just get so worn out. But I am going to do it. Wouldn't it be great if I could actually get a YA Adult novel written and published. I may be dreaming.

The other resolution is to be more social with groups of friends (not work!). This can be really difficult for me. I am naturally an introvert and shy, so I really have to gear up. It is so difficult to go into a group of people I don't know and introduce myself. But I think it's really time. I need to have some outlets.

It's been a good year. I've learned a lot, I've felt healthier than I have in a long time. I feel blessed.

Living

So I'm getting out there and starting to live again. I'm actually wanting to do this. This year has been a good year, and I think next year will be just as good. I'm starting to be with people and want to be with them. I'm starting to trust again. I'm starting to want to really know people, to look beyond what they present to the world and go behind their curtains. And it doesn't feel that scary. This is such a good thing, I think. What does life hold? I don't know, but breathing and living again is a good thing.

9/11

Many, no most, of the blogs that I follow have something about the 10th anniversary of 9/11 today. It is a time to remember-those who died in sacrifice and to an unmentionable evil. I have seen many TV programs today remembering that horrible day, and the same feeling I had then floods back to me. It was such a feeling of hopelessness to see the two towers go down on TV and know there was not a thing I could do about it from my home. I remember my mom calling me that morning. I had actually been out walking with my four month old twins and had not seen or heard about the first tower until I got back and received my mom's phone call. I couldn't believe what she was telling me. I immediately turned the TV on and shortly saw the second plane hit the second tower. I actually thought it was a re-play of the first plane and tower and was shocked when I found out it wasn't. When the towers went down it was so devastating. I had previously visited NYC and had driven by the towers. One cannot imagine how massive these buildings were. To think of all of those people in an instant, dead. As everyone knows, it was beyond depressing.

And our country was sent into a tailspin that I think it is still just crawling out of. I truly believe our economic status is a result in part due to that fateful day. But we hopefully are crawling out of it. I guess my hope would be that we continue to go forward, to thrive. We will forever be different, but I hope we are not forever defeated.

My daughter recently shared a conversation with me about a couple of girls at her school who snottily had told her that she wore too much pink. This hurt my daughter and caused her to doubt herself. As a result, she has stopped wearing so much pink. I told her that if she loves pink, she needs to keep wearing, to tell those girls that it's her body, not theirs and she will wear pink if she wants to. I told her if she stops doing what she wants and being who she is, then she lets these bullies win. This is a simplistic, juvenile comparison; but one I hope we Americans can take to heart. Keep going, keep being the wonderful nation that we are. Provide for each other, care for each other, support and love each other. Stand up for each other. Don't tear each other down. Don't let the bullies win.

What a Three Weeks

School has been in session for three weeks, and I have a cold! This is almost unheard of for me. But this year we have budget cuts. So, that means because the district closed some schools that we have more kids and more teachers. So, we're sharing rooms and computers and spaces. Also, the custodians have been cut, so they don't sweep our rooms everyday (can you believe that?). It's gross. They already were not cleaning off the desks (which are filled with icky, yucky middle school germs). Not sweeping the floors is utterly disgusting. All of this equals sickness being spread. So, I have a cold, along with every other teacher in the building. I guess I'm going to have to arm myself with a constant supply of hand sanitizer.

On a brighter note, my students are great! Yay! I'm sorry, but I do feel like I deserve this this year. My 8th graders last year were my own personal nightmare, and I had them for 7th grade too. So, cheers to me.

Despite the germs and crowded halls, I think this is going to be a good year. The atmosphere is a little different, because some of the students who transferred over think that it's unfair that they have to be at this school instead of their old school. But I think after this year that will blow over. Here's hoping for a fantastic year!

I Don't Want This Burden Anymore

Do you ever have an issue or struggle that you just can't get rid of? You pray about it, you wrestle with it, you say "no more," but it's always there in the back of your head, getting its tentacles into your heart. It is like the heaviest backpack that you cannot take off. Why is that? What is it about that particular struggle that makes it nearly impossible to get rid of? Is it denial? Do you think the struggle is going to end up the way you want? Is it because you've gotten used to the feeling of the struggle? Maybe you just have to get so sick of yourself, because you've held on to the struggle so long. I am usually a person who continues inner struggles for a long time. I hate that about myself. It's not something that I admire about myself, but it is something I just unconsciously, habitually do. I think I go through all the stages associated with grief when I go through letting go of a struggle. I go through bargaining, anger, denial, sadness (I think I'm missing a stage.) until I come to acceptance. Then one day I wake up, and I say okay, that's it, I'm done.

I recently earnestly prayed about my struggle, just asking what God wanted. Whatever He wanted, I just needed to know so that I could go forward. God is always good to let me know. Sometimes He lets me know right away, sometimes it's awhile before I get to know. I always love it when it's sudden and dramatic, because then I have absolutely no doubts as to what God wants me to do. But that usually only happens when I'm in dire circumstances that need to be remedied immediately. This time God was pretty quick, but He was gradual. He let me see things through things I read or saw on TV or the movies. He'd show me these things then would say, "Now what do you think? I think you already know and have known for quite awhile." And He's right, I have. So, that's when I start steps. And I put things in order so that I don't look back that way again. And it's okay, I don't feel the need to anymore. I'm just so ready to go forward with a new chapter in my life without that burden on my back.

I love the Foo Fighters' song, "Walk" because it exemplifies this so perfectly: "I'm learning to walk again, I believe I've waited long enough...I'm learning to talk again, Don't you see I've waited long enough..." That's how I feel. I've waited long enough on this struggle, and I'm walking again, walking away from this struggle and not looking back.

Meandering in the Quiet

Just a week and half to go until I go back to school. And my kids are on vacation with their dad. All is quiet here. So, that's when my brain starts meandering all over the place. Today I was totally lazy. I did nothing but read and watch TV. I watched episodes of Dexter and White Collar, Covert Affairs. I finished reading a book called Healer. I can't recall the author at this moment and am too lazy to go look. It was a mediocre book, but somehow kept my attention. And believe me, if my attention is not grabbed within the first five pages, I toss it aside. Obviously, I don't have too much of a social life. That was one of the things that I was pondering this weekend. I was thinking, is this it? Is this all God has for me? Teaching and raising kids? It's just that I know soon my kids will leave. And before they leave, they will become teenagers and not want me around too much. And I love teaching. I'm always trying to improve upon it. This year is no exception. Now that I finally fee like I have my feet under me, I'm going to try to work on Differentiation. I'll have to write about that later. What I'd also really like to do is be a writer. I try to work on it a little bit every day that I don't have the kids. I just can't do it on the days that I have them. My focus is too much on them. And when I work and have them, well forget it. I just come home, finish guiding any homework that needs to be finished up, cook dinner, clean up, and collapse in front of the TV for about an hour. But oh, I would love to be a writer. Maybe that's the next turn in my road. I guess we'll see. But for now, I'll relish these next two weeks. Now I have to go. Dexter is calling to me.

Eeeek!

There is nothing that strikes fear in my heart like mice (or spiders or bugs of any sort). And when a mouse is invading my house, it is close to catastrophic. A couple of weeks ago a mouse invaded my home late, late one night during a taped DVR watching of Friday Night Lights. That was bad enough, since there are only a few more episodes where I can watch Coach Taylor motivate his boys to be their very best off and on the field. After screaming at the poor rodent and throwing my slipper on the floor (jamming my finger in the process), I retreated to the safety of my bedroom and immediately went to get DCon the next day.

For weeks I have been on the lookout for any brave mouse that might make its way into my abode. But I had been lulled into a false security the mice knew that entering my house meant certain death. If I didn't get them the poison would. Yesterday, I was up in my room putting my make-up on when my son yells up at me that he sees a mouse. Incredulous, I yell back, "Inside?" He says that yes, he is looking at it.

I bounded down the stairs, and sure enough there was a tiny mouse running back and forth on my baseboards underneath the window between my couch and TV armoire.

I ran to get my broom and started yelling at the thing. My son joined in. But the poor mouse didn't know what to do . It just kept running back and forth. In retrospect, I think the mouse had already sampled some of the poison, it was so discombobulated. At the time, though, I just wanted the thing out of my house. The mouse made a dash for it behind my armoire, and he promptly jumped on top of the poison that was artfully placed behind my armoire. My daughter peeked behind the armoire in fascination. "It's eating the poison!" she said reverently. Then tears gathered in her eyes. "It's just a baby," she said. This is was Disney cartoons do to people. They make defenseless kids think that mice are cuddly friends and that Prince Charming is going to show up to save the day. Neither are true.

After telling her that she needed to dry her eyes, we all took up residence in front of the armoire, waiting for the enemy to leave the fortifications. I was armed and ready with a shovel and a broom. But the mouse would not budge; it was still nesting on the poison. Finally, I told my kids that I was going to go finish getting ready and that if they saw the mouse to let me know. About a half an hour later (it takes a while to get this face presentable), I came downstairs to find out that the mouse was still behind the armoire. I decided to fix and lunch and hope that maybe the food smells would lure it out.

I guess lunch did the trick. In the middle of pulling pizza out of the microwave, my daughter shrieked that the mouse was leaving its hiding place. I ran over quickly, broom in hand. The poison was definitely taking affect, because the mouse ran back and forth, spun in circles, and landed it on its back. You would think this was the end, but this was like a little horror movie. The mouse got back up and started coming towards me. I screamed a blood curdling scream and the mouse ran back to the floor boards. Then the mouse darted under the couch. I was actually glad about this. The couch is in front of the fireplace, which is how the mice are getting in. I thought, now the mouse will leave. But then I had visions of the mouse actually dying under the couch, soon smelling the stench of decaying rodent. That would never do. So, I moved the couch forward, and the mouse darted forward again.

What to do? This could not go on all day! So, I decided to launch a bold move. If I could sweep the mouse out the garage door (which it was closest to), then I could sweep it on out of the garage and onto the driveway, then the yard, where a cat could then take care of it. Brilliant! So, I opened the garage door, steadily gripped my weapon, and hit that mouse like it was a hockey puck. Unfortunately, my athletic prowess (or lack of) showed itself at this time. Did the mouse launch out the door. No, it stopped just short of the door and started to gather itself together to fun. I would not be stopped. I drew my broom back and undeterred, aimed again. Again, my aim-not that good. Because, even though I was inches from the door, the mouse scooted under the door and hit the wall. At least that was enough to daze the mouse who laid motionless. With determination in my voice, I ordered my daughter to open the back door. I triumphantly picked up the shovel, scooped up the pesky enemy, and screaming wildly ran the mouse out the back door. I screamed the entire time, but I was not alone. I heard shrill outcries behind me-not from my daughter; but from my son. Buoyed by our cries of outrage, I flung my shovel back and catapulted the probably very regretful mouse into the yard.

Victory!