Christmas Eve at Watermark is one of my favorite things. It's the primary reason I fight to have Christmas at my house every year, and I look forward to it for weeks. The service isn't all that different from plenty of others throughout the year, so I'm not sure what makes it so exciting for me. Maybe it's the hot chocolate or going in the middle of the night... whatever it is, I love it.
Last year was different. In the weeks leading up to Christmas I was really questioning my decision to stay at Watermark. After three years, I still felt invisible in the thousands of people, and I truly believed that if I never came back no one would really care. Even though I loved many things about Watermark I felt very alone, and I wasn't sure if the good was enough to balance the loneliness. But, on Christmas Eve I put the dread aside and dragged myself to the service, and that's when everything changed.
I expected a typical service, but rather than only singing happy Christmas carols and lighting candles, we celebrated stories of life change. Not all pretty stories of life change either. Hard, painful, uncomfortable pasts turned into futures filled with life and hope. Real, honest people changed by the birth and death of Christ... the reason Christmas happened. As I read the simple, silent testimonies written on plain brown cardboard I connected and remembered why I belonged, and I haven't questioned it since.
Tomorrow they're doing the same thing. I know because this year I'M one of the cardboard people. A friend on staff asked me last week if I'd be willing to share my story of grace, and although it's way outside of my comfort zone, I said yes. After all, it's silent, so all I had to do was come up with two phrases for my sign (harder than it sounds...) and turn it around on cue. Scary, but totally doable!
The more challenging part has been coming around to the idea that I'm one of "those" people... that I have a story that anyone cares to hear. Luckily I wasn't terribly attached to that belief because it's been shot down repeatedly this week. More than once someone has cried when I told her what my sign will say. I do see that God has done wonderful things in my life in the past few years, and this year especially I've changed a lot. But I didn't see ME as the type of person who God uses to bring others that kind of joy. Well, I didn't see myself as the type of person God used to bring any kind of joy but certainly not joy so powerful it produces tears.
Anyway, even though it's pretty unlike me, I'm super excited about tomorrow. I get to tell people what God has done in MY life. Thousands of people (that part's a little scary!). And someone will read my words and connect just like I did last year... because God can bring good from my bad. Great reason to ignore the fear!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
the list
Yesterday I went to lunch with a friend. (That's the kind of simple sentence I'd tell my kids not to write, but luckily, I don't have a teacher on my back!) I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't the outcome I got: a challenging discussion about some of my biggest weaknesses and assignments to report back on. Yes, she gave me homework.
So because I'm me, and I do what people ask, I got started. Part one was pretty easy: make a list of the things God has done in my life this year. I definitely had plenty to say! 2009 has been difficult in many ways, but it's also been amazing. I've learned so much about who God is and who that makes me, and I've been blessed in more ways than I could ever deserve. Although I wouldn't have said it along the way, this has been a fabulous year.
Part two was quite a bit harder: share the list... with more than one person. I REALLY didn't want to do that part, but then I got an email link to her reflections on her year and absolutely loved reading what she'd written... then decided that maybe I should stop hiding and share some of what God has done in my life.
Which leads to... my list (most of it anyway)!
1. He gave me new friends in my Thursday night Bible study at a time when I was feeling really alone. My small group rocks, and I'm excited to start our second year together!
2. He gave me the courage to trust them with my story and proved me wrong when they weren't scared away by my past and continued to love and encourage me.
3. He used my story and gifts to influence another woman in that group and encourage her to pursue recovery.
4. He taught me about the true meaning of joy and helped me begin to recognize my lack of trust in Him and how that impacts my life daily.
5. He blessed me with my 5:30 Rocks girls (and grown-up friends!) who've taught me more than I possibly could have taught them. I finally found my place at Watermark.
6. He moved me out of my kindergarten comfort zone into a job where I have the emotional reserves left to face some of my deeper hurts and gave me the peace I needed to make it through the transition.
7. He perfectly orchestrated the series of events (over the past four years) that led to a precious little boy being in my homeroom this year where he knows he's wanted, and I can love and encourage him daily.
8. He gave me grace and wisdom as I wrestled with my beliefs about His goodness and character and surrounded me with people who were willing to push me forward and speak truth into that struggle. It hurt at the time, but now I'm infinitely more secure in what I believe and why I believe it. It's real rather than just being the words I always said.
9. He helped me search deep into my heart and gave me the strength and courage to begin to face the hurts I'd hidden so deeply even I couldn't see them anymore.
10. He brought me through the fall without falling into my typical deep depression. Super exciting!!!
11. He taught me about the power of memorizing scripture to combat my anxiety- being transformed by the renewing of my mind. :-)
12. He used Haley to be the tangible representation of His grace that I'm always asking for... the person I can't push away and whose love I will never be able to "earn."
13. He's showing me that I can trust Him and trust myself and don't have to seek validation from others.
14. He's continuing to move my focus and priorities more toward His own and away from my obsession with body image and performance.
15. He's helping me to daily accept that He designed me perfectly to bring Him joy, loves me unconditionally just the way I am, and can be trusted to always do what's best for me, even if it doesn't feel like it at the time. When I really stop to think about the magnitude of that truth, I always end up crying. He loves ME.
It's been a good year. I almost doubt that 2010 can compete...
So because I'm me, and I do what people ask, I got started. Part one was pretty easy: make a list of the things God has done in my life this year. I definitely had plenty to say! 2009 has been difficult in many ways, but it's also been amazing. I've learned so much about who God is and who that makes me, and I've been blessed in more ways than I could ever deserve. Although I wouldn't have said it along the way, this has been a fabulous year.
Part two was quite a bit harder: share the list... with more than one person. I REALLY didn't want to do that part, but then I got an email link to her reflections on her year and absolutely loved reading what she'd written... then decided that maybe I should stop hiding and share some of what God has done in my life.
Which leads to... my list (most of it anyway)!
1. He gave me new friends in my Thursday night Bible study at a time when I was feeling really alone. My small group rocks, and I'm excited to start our second year together!
2. He gave me the courage to trust them with my story and proved me wrong when they weren't scared away by my past and continued to love and encourage me.
3. He used my story and gifts to influence another woman in that group and encourage her to pursue recovery.
4. He taught me about the true meaning of joy and helped me begin to recognize my lack of trust in Him and how that impacts my life daily.
5. He blessed me with my 5:30 Rocks girls (and grown-up friends!) who've taught me more than I possibly could have taught them. I finally found my place at Watermark.
6. He moved me out of my kindergarten comfort zone into a job where I have the emotional reserves left to face some of my deeper hurts and gave me the peace I needed to make it through the transition.
7. He perfectly orchestrated the series of events (over the past four years) that led to a precious little boy being in my homeroom this year where he knows he's wanted, and I can love and encourage him daily.
8. He gave me grace and wisdom as I wrestled with my beliefs about His goodness and character and surrounded me with people who were willing to push me forward and speak truth into that struggle. It hurt at the time, but now I'm infinitely more secure in what I believe and why I believe it. It's real rather than just being the words I always said.
9. He helped me search deep into my heart and gave me the strength and courage to begin to face the hurts I'd hidden so deeply even I couldn't see them anymore.
10. He brought me through the fall without falling into my typical deep depression. Super exciting!!!
11. He taught me about the power of memorizing scripture to combat my anxiety- being transformed by the renewing of my mind. :-)
12. He used Haley to be the tangible representation of His grace that I'm always asking for... the person I can't push away and whose love I will never be able to "earn."
13. He's showing me that I can trust Him and trust myself and don't have to seek validation from others.
14. He's continuing to move my focus and priorities more toward His own and away from my obsession with body image and performance.
15. He's helping me to daily accept that He designed me perfectly to bring Him joy, loves me unconditionally just the way I am, and can be trusted to always do what's best for me, even if it doesn't feel like it at the time. When I really stop to think about the magnitude of that truth, I always end up crying. He loves ME.
It's been a good year. I almost doubt that 2010 can compete...
Sunday, November 29, 2009
reframing
Over the past few weeks, I've had lots of free time, so I decided to spend some time reading a blog I previously read only occasionally... The Happiness Project.
This idea of creating happiness is pretty foreign to me, but one suggestion in particular intrigued me: reframing your thoughts about things you dislike. I'm VERY familiar with that concept, although I'd never used it in quite that way, so I decided to give it a shot. As it turns out, reframing has actually worked pretty well when it comes to mundane chores. I despise cleaning, but telling myself that I enjoy it does give me a better attitude (an attitude that's kept our house clean for almost a month). It's working far less well in improving my attitude about work. Perhaps that's a sign...
I've been amazed how much this one small thing has influenced my day to day life. Reframing my attitude about cleaning has resulted in a much cleaner, more ordered house without the same level of frustration I used to feel. Having a consistently clean and at least somewhat organized house calms my anxiety more than I ever imagined, and less anxiety makes the rest of life SO much easier. Of course, we'll see how long this lasts. I've never been one to actually stick with chores.
Anyhow, back to school tomorrow, and I'm dreading it as always... gotta find a way to reframe that thought more successfully (at least until June!).
This idea of creating happiness is pretty foreign to me, but one suggestion in particular intrigued me: reframing your thoughts about things you dislike. I'm VERY familiar with that concept, although I'd never used it in quite that way, so I decided to give it a shot. As it turns out, reframing has actually worked pretty well when it comes to mundane chores. I despise cleaning, but telling myself that I enjoy it does give me a better attitude (an attitude that's kept our house clean for almost a month). It's working far less well in improving my attitude about work. Perhaps that's a sign...
I've been amazed how much this one small thing has influenced my day to day life. Reframing my attitude about cleaning has resulted in a much cleaner, more ordered house without the same level of frustration I used to feel. Having a consistently clean and at least somewhat organized house calms my anxiety more than I ever imagined, and less anxiety makes the rest of life SO much easier. Of course, we'll see how long this lasts. I've never been one to actually stick with chores.
Anyhow, back to school tomorrow, and I'm dreading it as always... gotta find a way to reframe that thought more successfully (at least until June!).
Sunday, October 25, 2009
any age but this one
As school years go, this one is still going quite well... a pretty sad commentary on how the previous six years have gone.
4th grade is still easier, and I love my kids. However, teaching the same lesson over and over all day long is almost painful. By the time I get to the last class I'm sick of reading the same book and saying the same words. Yes, the lesson gets better each time I do it, but the basic content is the same. I'm also often frustrated with the attitude that our school scores well on state tests, so we don't need to learn new, research-based teaching methods. We're totally stuck in the 80s. Perfect example: I had to call someone to remove a set of textbooks from my classroom from when I was IN 4th grade. I recognized the book because it was MY basal reader (not literally my copy, but the same book).
I haven't been writing much either which is ironic considering that I now devote my entire day to teaching writing. I'd even convinced myself that I no longer enjoyed writing. Then I realized the truth: I don't enjoy consistently writing for an audience of fourth graders.
I spend my days teaching children that their lives matter, and they do. But, when I look at my life and at the things I value enough to write about, my things aren't things nine year olds want or need to hear. They aren't even, for the most part, happy, encouraging stories. I need to write about how different being grown up is than I thought it would be and how I feel so left behind. I need to tell the story of sitting heartbroken in a cold parking lot at 1:00 am while the two women I was with sat on either side of me talking about the joys of pregnancy and newborn babies. I need to verbalize all the ways God has made himself visible to me during a really difficult season of doubt. I do NOT need to spend hours writing the stories of riding Disney's latest rollercoaster or dressing up as Snow White for Halloween... but those are the stories I have to write.
I'm ready for this life stage to be over. The current mentor text for my students is Eleven by Sandra Cisneros, and it's outstanding. The little girl in the story, Rachel, talks about wishing she was any age but eleven because her eleventh birthday was such a painful day. I cried the first time I read through the story because I relate on more levels than I'd like. Not only do I know exactly what it feels like to be a child who desperately wishes to escape her own reality, but lately I regularly wish I was any age but twenty-eight. Actually, not any age, but quite a bit older. Past the point where every few days another friend announces a pregnancy and I feel jealousy and sadness instead of the happiness I want to feel. Past this age where having children is all that anyone my own age can seem to talk about. Past twenty-eight and maybe all the way to fifty. I don't want to take any chances.
4th grade is still easier, and I love my kids. However, teaching the same lesson over and over all day long is almost painful. By the time I get to the last class I'm sick of reading the same book and saying the same words. Yes, the lesson gets better each time I do it, but the basic content is the same. I'm also often frustrated with the attitude that our school scores well on state tests, so we don't need to learn new, research-based teaching methods. We're totally stuck in the 80s. Perfect example: I had to call someone to remove a set of textbooks from my classroom from when I was IN 4th grade. I recognized the book because it was MY basal reader (not literally my copy, but the same book).
I haven't been writing much either which is ironic considering that I now devote my entire day to teaching writing. I'd even convinced myself that I no longer enjoyed writing. Then I realized the truth: I don't enjoy consistently writing for an audience of fourth graders.
I spend my days teaching children that their lives matter, and they do. But, when I look at my life and at the things I value enough to write about, my things aren't things nine year olds want or need to hear. They aren't even, for the most part, happy, encouraging stories. I need to write about how different being grown up is than I thought it would be and how I feel so left behind. I need to tell the story of sitting heartbroken in a cold parking lot at 1:00 am while the two women I was with sat on either side of me talking about the joys of pregnancy and newborn babies. I need to verbalize all the ways God has made himself visible to me during a really difficult season of doubt. I do NOT need to spend hours writing the stories of riding Disney's latest rollercoaster or dressing up as Snow White for Halloween... but those are the stories I have to write.
I'm ready for this life stage to be over. The current mentor text for my students is Eleven by Sandra Cisneros, and it's outstanding. The little girl in the story, Rachel, talks about wishing she was any age but eleven because her eleventh birthday was such a painful day. I cried the first time I read through the story because I relate on more levels than I'd like. Not only do I know exactly what it feels like to be a child who desperately wishes to escape her own reality, but lately I regularly wish I was any age but twenty-eight. Actually, not any age, but quite a bit older. Past the point where every few days another friend announces a pregnancy and I feel jealousy and sadness instead of the happiness I want to feel. Past this age where having children is all that anyone my own age can seem to talk about. Past twenty-eight and maybe all the way to fifty. I don't want to take any chances.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
one week down (almost)
Today was the 4th day of school, and all in all, this week hasn't been that bad. In fact, it's been the easiest first week of school ever. As it turns out, teaching kindergarten made my job far more exhausting than I realized. Compared to that, 4th grade is a breeze.
So since I'm settling in, I read the book Scaredy Squirrel to three of my classes today. I wish I had a copy at home because it's one of my absolute favorite books. The main character is a neurotic squirrel who's afraid of all sorts of absurd things. Green martians for instance. He's so terrified that he never leaves his tree. Retelling the story doesn't do it justice though... it's hilarious.
I love reading this book because I am SO like Scaredy Squirrel. He stays in his tree with his same nuts and same view because when he's there, life is predictable. If he ventured into "The Unknown" (a.k.a. the forest), he might run into green martians, after all. Totally rational. Yet, this is how I often do life. I convince myself that the unknown is so incredibly frightening that I end up missing out on things that would have been really cool. The sad part is that this is the brave version of me... I used to be completely paralyzed by my fear. Now it's just a pretty major annoyance.
This week's adventure into the unknown has turned out a lot better than I expected. To be fair, there have been hard parts. My teammates are nice, but getting to know them has still been difficult for me (and will continue to be I'm sure). It's also been really hard watching my old friends still working together while I'm no longer a part. I still worry that I won't be good at this, although I worry much less than I did before Monday. Most of what I feared has actually happened, but nothing has happened to the extreme extent that I imagined. Hard, yes. Impossible, no.
I don't know how the rest of the year will go. While I am enjoying the maturity of nine year olds, I know I will end up missing things about my babies. It's a trade off. Big kids are far less emotionally draining because they don't need me every minute of every day, but they also don't curl up in my lap while I read. They can reason and understand my sarcastic humor, but they don't tackle me in the hall because they miss me SO MUCH that they just cannot function (yes, that happens pretty regularly). I watch the first graders walking in the hall and wonder what it will feel like next year when I don't know them, but that will have to wait for later.
For now, I'm trying to appreciate the fact that nothing horrible is happening in The Unknown today... those green martians are pretty dangerous, after all.
So since I'm settling in, I read the book Scaredy Squirrel to three of my classes today. I wish I had a copy at home because it's one of my absolute favorite books. The main character is a neurotic squirrel who's afraid of all sorts of absurd things. Green martians for instance. He's so terrified that he never leaves his tree. Retelling the story doesn't do it justice though... it's hilarious.
I love reading this book because I am SO like Scaredy Squirrel. He stays in his tree with his same nuts and same view because when he's there, life is predictable. If he ventured into "The Unknown" (a.k.a. the forest), he might run into green martians, after all. Totally rational. Yet, this is how I often do life. I convince myself that the unknown is so incredibly frightening that I end up missing out on things that would have been really cool. The sad part is that this is the brave version of me... I used to be completely paralyzed by my fear. Now it's just a pretty major annoyance.
This week's adventure into the unknown has turned out a lot better than I expected. To be fair, there have been hard parts. My teammates are nice, but getting to know them has still been difficult for me (and will continue to be I'm sure). It's also been really hard watching my old friends still working together while I'm no longer a part. I still worry that I won't be good at this, although I worry much less than I did before Monday. Most of what I feared has actually happened, but nothing has happened to the extreme extent that I imagined. Hard, yes. Impossible, no.
I don't know how the rest of the year will go. While I am enjoying the maturity of nine year olds, I know I will end up missing things about my babies. It's a trade off. Big kids are far less emotionally draining because they don't need me every minute of every day, but they also don't curl up in my lap while I read. They can reason and understand my sarcastic humor, but they don't tackle me in the hall because they miss me SO MUCH that they just cannot function (yes, that happens pretty regularly). I watch the first graders walking in the hall and wonder what it will feel like next year when I don't know them, but that will have to wait for later.
For now, I'm trying to appreciate the fact that nothing horrible is happening in The Unknown today... those green martians are pretty dangerous, after all.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
starting over... again
Today is the last day of summer.
For a variety of reasons, I'm dreading the first day of work. I think that's relatively normal (it takes a special person to WANT to go back to work after vacation), but for me it's a little out of the ordinary. Usually by the end of the summer I've gotten excited, so for the past couple of weeks I've waited for the excitement to kick in. It didn't happen at my late summer trainings. It didn't happen when I started preparing my room or when I saw my friends. I'm down to less than a day... it still hasn't happened. It isn't going to, and this morning I finally realized why: if I made a list of things I like, not a single one would apply here. I like consistency and familiarity and knowing the answers. As of tomorrow, I'll have none of those things. Like a kindergartner on the first day of school, I'm starting from scratch.
I've made a lot of changes over my six years of teaching, but in every instance, there was one safe thing about school for me to grab on to... in recent years, being an expert in the kinder curriculum. This year there's nothing. Even if I like it, there's basically no chance I'll actually be good at teaching 4th grade the first year. It took three years in kindergarten before I really felt competent, and that was an age group I had experience with. My teammates may be the best ever, but I still have to get through the awkward beginning of three new relationships (perhaps the thing I hate most in the world). Everyone says I'll love 4th grade, and I may... but right now it's all a giant unknown.
So, this morning I was asked if it was possible to be joyful in the midst of the uncertainty. The obvious correct answer is yes. In reality, it's very difficult. The one definition that's stuck with me out of all the character traits I've taught this year was the one for joy: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God. Joy inevitably comes back to trust. Do I trust that God's plan is best? Yes. 100%. The problem is that whether or not it's ultimately best, I've come to associate God's plan for my life with misery. That doesn't exactly breed joy.
Is this an opportunity for growth? Yes, a great one I'm sure. A push out of my comfort zone into what will undoubtedly be a more challenging job. A chance to relinquish some of the control I so desperately grasp for and accept that God will always be the only constant in my life. I see no way around growth. But what has happened the last ten times I've had an opportunity for growth? Something incredibly painful... broken relationships, difficult realizations about myself, loneliness. The final outcome has always been in some way healing and rewarding, but the road is rough. How do I look at a year that, in many ways, will certainly be painful and still feel joy?
I don't know the answer. Well, I can quote plenty of applicable verses, but I don't know what that looks like in my life. I guess I get to start growing now though because the only thought that's getting me through the day is that God doesn't change. No matter how alone or confused or out of control I feel, what I know of Him and His character will always be the same.
This year He's the one thing left to grab on to.
For a variety of reasons, I'm dreading the first day of work. I think that's relatively normal (it takes a special person to WANT to go back to work after vacation), but for me it's a little out of the ordinary. Usually by the end of the summer I've gotten excited, so for the past couple of weeks I've waited for the excitement to kick in. It didn't happen at my late summer trainings. It didn't happen when I started preparing my room or when I saw my friends. I'm down to less than a day... it still hasn't happened. It isn't going to, and this morning I finally realized why: if I made a list of things I like, not a single one would apply here. I like consistency and familiarity and knowing the answers. As of tomorrow, I'll have none of those things. Like a kindergartner on the first day of school, I'm starting from scratch.
I've made a lot of changes over my six years of teaching, but in every instance, there was one safe thing about school for me to grab on to... in recent years, being an expert in the kinder curriculum. This year there's nothing. Even if I like it, there's basically no chance I'll actually be good at teaching 4th grade the first year. It took three years in kindergarten before I really felt competent, and that was an age group I had experience with. My teammates may be the best ever, but I still have to get through the awkward beginning of three new relationships (perhaps the thing I hate most in the world). Everyone says I'll love 4th grade, and I may... but right now it's all a giant unknown.
So, this morning I was asked if it was possible to be joyful in the midst of the uncertainty. The obvious correct answer is yes. In reality, it's very difficult. The one definition that's stuck with me out of all the character traits I've taught this year was the one for joy: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God. Joy inevitably comes back to trust. Do I trust that God's plan is best? Yes. 100%. The problem is that whether or not it's ultimately best, I've come to associate God's plan for my life with misery. That doesn't exactly breed joy.
Is this an opportunity for growth? Yes, a great one I'm sure. A push out of my comfort zone into what will undoubtedly be a more challenging job. A chance to relinquish some of the control I so desperately grasp for and accept that God will always be the only constant in my life. I see no way around growth. But what has happened the last ten times I've had an opportunity for growth? Something incredibly painful... broken relationships, difficult realizations about myself, loneliness. The final outcome has always been in some way healing and rewarding, but the road is rough. How do I look at a year that, in many ways, will certainly be painful and still feel joy?
I don't know the answer. Well, I can quote plenty of applicable verses, but I don't know what that looks like in my life. I guess I get to start growing now though because the only thought that's getting me through the day is that God doesn't change. No matter how alone or confused or out of control I feel, what I know of Him and His character will always be the same.
This year He's the one thing left to grab on to.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
it's been awhile...
Since I last posted in May, I've thought many times that I should write something then realized I had nothing to write about. Well, really I guess plenty of things have happened, but none of them seemed worth writing about in isolation. Now that summer is almost over, enough things have piled up.
Summer has been good, maybe the best since I started working, for many reasons. Obviously, it's nice to have two months off work, but usually by this point in the summer, I'm done. This year that hasn't happened. I've been busy with friends and activities, and really, I haven't had more than two days in a row without plans. That's a first. I did an amazing summer Bible study where I was blessed to be in an adult small group with the mothers of the girls in my little girl small group. I joined a book club. I went swimming and played with my dog and read for hours on end. I haven't tied anyone else's shoe. It's been a refreshing break.
This week I completed a long standing baby step by taking the GRE. Most people would put off a test like that because of concerns about a low score, but not me. I put it off because of fear of doing well and where that would lead me. When I sat at the computer looking at my score, I knew I'd been right.
When I chose my major in college (almost ten years ago...), I based my decision mostly on ease. I mean, I love kids, but ultimately I chose teaching over another kid-friendly field because it would require the least academic effort and would produce the fastest result, as in no need for grad school. After living the first 18 years of my life as the textbook overachiever, I wanted a break, but the longer I've taught, the more I've regretted my decision and the more trapped I've felt. I wasn't qualified to do anything else, and at some point, I stopped believing I was even capable.
So, as I expected, my test score presented a dilemma: take the easy route through grad school too as I originally planned or take a more challenging route that would require more work but lead to a more desirable outcome. Had I scored poorly, I wouldn't have had an option, but I did well. It was fairly simple to tell myself the easy path was best before I had this tangible proof that I was selling myself short, but the instant I looked at the screen, I lost the tenuous hold I had on that lie.
I want to finish grad school with no regrets... knowing that I did the best I could rather than slacking off... and to that end, I've decided to start down the harder path, the one I should have started ten years ago. It's going to take longer and require taking a few prerequisites, but I know I'm making the right choice.
The next two weeks should be my least scheduled of the summer, and I'm looking forward to the down time. Unfortunately, after that school will start. Year seven. I never thought I'd teach this long, but at least now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Summer has been good, maybe the best since I started working, for many reasons. Obviously, it's nice to have two months off work, but usually by this point in the summer, I'm done. This year that hasn't happened. I've been busy with friends and activities, and really, I haven't had more than two days in a row without plans. That's a first. I did an amazing summer Bible study where I was blessed to be in an adult small group with the mothers of the girls in my little girl small group. I joined a book club. I went swimming and played with my dog and read for hours on end. I haven't tied anyone else's shoe. It's been a refreshing break.
This week I completed a long standing baby step by taking the GRE. Most people would put off a test like that because of concerns about a low score, but not me. I put it off because of fear of doing well and where that would lead me. When I sat at the computer looking at my score, I knew I'd been right.
When I chose my major in college (almost ten years ago...), I based my decision mostly on ease. I mean, I love kids, but ultimately I chose teaching over another kid-friendly field because it would require the least academic effort and would produce the fastest result, as in no need for grad school. After living the first 18 years of my life as the textbook overachiever, I wanted a break, but the longer I've taught, the more I've regretted my decision and the more trapped I've felt. I wasn't qualified to do anything else, and at some point, I stopped believing I was even capable.
So, as I expected, my test score presented a dilemma: take the easy route through grad school too as I originally planned or take a more challenging route that would require more work but lead to a more desirable outcome. Had I scored poorly, I wouldn't have had an option, but I did well. It was fairly simple to tell myself the easy path was best before I had this tangible proof that I was selling myself short, but the instant I looked at the screen, I lost the tenuous hold I had on that lie.
I want to finish grad school with no regrets... knowing that I did the best I could rather than slacking off... and to that end, I've decided to start down the harder path, the one I should have started ten years ago. It's going to take longer and require taking a few prerequisites, but I know I'm making the right choice.
The next two weeks should be my least scheduled of the summer, and I'm looking forward to the down time. Unfortunately, after that school will start. Year seven. I never thought I'd teach this long, but at least now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
she would be elastigirl...
This week is Teacher Appreciation Week at my school. The rest of the world celebrated two weeks ago, but, SURPRISE! We HAD to be different. Must be tradition...
Anyhow, this morning we were talking about things our schools had done in the past, and I remembered my absolute all time favorite: the "How well do you know your teacher?" quiz. Here are a few select answers from last year...
What is your teacher's favorite kind of music?
-quiet music
-puppy music
-Baa, Baa Black Sheep (THEIR favorite song)
What does your teacher do when she's not in school?
-She has to rest because the class is so wild. (Shockingly accurate!)
-thinks about us
-gets a substitute
When your teacher was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?
-Miss America
-a ballerina
-a psychologist
If your teacher had only one wish, what would it be?
-a cake (obviously knew me well!)
-to be a superstar
-to lose a tooth
-to live where she works (if he ONLY knew...)
What is your teacher's favorite saying?
-I can change your folder in a heartbeat. (Ha!)
-Hang your backpacks up!
-May I have your attention, please?
-Get on the carpet!
-I love you, precious. (Aw...)
What is your teacher's favorite pastime?
-spending time with her students
-saying "You can't do that!" but really we can
-getting food while we're at specials
And the best of all...
If your teacher were a superhero, which one would she be and why?
-She would be Elastigirl on The Incredibles. She is tall, and it would be awesome if she could grab kids all the way across the room. She would even be able to get her lunch tray without leaving her desk.
Hilarious and free... and the best gift I've ever gotten.
Anyhow, this morning we were talking about things our schools had done in the past, and I remembered my absolute all time favorite: the "How well do you know your teacher?" quiz. Here are a few select answers from last year...
What is your teacher's favorite kind of music?
-quiet music
-puppy music
-Baa, Baa Black Sheep (THEIR favorite song)
What does your teacher do when she's not in school?
-She has to rest because the class is so wild. (Shockingly accurate!)
-thinks about us
-gets a substitute
When your teacher was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?
-Miss America
-a ballerina
-a psychologist
If your teacher had only one wish, what would it be?
-a cake (obviously knew me well!)
-to be a superstar
-to lose a tooth
-to live where she works (if he ONLY knew...)
What is your teacher's favorite saying?
-I can change your folder in a heartbeat. (Ha!)
-Hang your backpacks up!
-May I have your attention, please?
-Get on the carpet!
-I love you, precious. (Aw...)
What is your teacher's favorite pastime?
-spending time with her students
-saying "You can't do that!" but really we can
-getting food while we're at specials
And the best of all...
If your teacher were a superhero, which one would she be and why?
-She would be Elastigirl on The Incredibles. She is tall, and it would be awesome if she could grab kids all the way across the room. She would even be able to get her lunch tray without leaving her desk.
Hilarious and free... and the best gift I've ever gotten.
Friday, April 24, 2009
29 and counting...
The past week has been a series of extreme ups and downs... I REALLY hate change!
After going back and forth about 50 times, I think that I've finally adapted to the idea of teaching 4th grade. It's helped that my kids have suddenly become crazy needy and fussy (a little odd at this point in the year). Two of them cried today over an art project. Seriously. All of a sudden little ones are SO much less appealing! I've also gotten more support than I ever could have dreamed. One of the benefits of the small town feeling of my district is that I can e-mail the writing specialist (who I actually know) and have her show up with supplies in hand solely to calm me down. After our meeting this afternoon, I feel confident that things will be ok... I won't be doing this alone.
So I'm getting excited, but parts of this still suck. I was looking forward to not having to pack up my whole room for the first time in my entire career, but instead I'm moving again. After four years, I'd finally gotten my room exactly the way I wanted it, and now the vast majority, if not all, of my stuff will be completely inappropriate. I get depressed when I start thinking about it all... particularly the thought of having to retire my Lakeshore kids (yes, I realize that's pathetic), so I'm choosing to attempt denial. It's been bad enough sorting through the stuff that never rated unpacking after the last move, so I'm putting off the good stuff until the last possible minute. I figure I've still got about three weeks before I absolutely have to face packing and storing or giving away all my favorite things...
Anyhow, it's late, and I have no idea how to end this, perhaps because I'm exhausted from the stress of this week. At least it's one more week down, and now I have the weekend to rest. Only 29 days to go...
After going back and forth about 50 times, I think that I've finally adapted to the idea of teaching 4th grade. It's helped that my kids have suddenly become crazy needy and fussy (a little odd at this point in the year). Two of them cried today over an art project. Seriously. All of a sudden little ones are SO much less appealing! I've also gotten more support than I ever could have dreamed. One of the benefits of the small town feeling of my district is that I can e-mail the writing specialist (who I actually know) and have her show up with supplies in hand solely to calm me down. After our meeting this afternoon, I feel confident that things will be ok... I won't be doing this alone.
So I'm getting excited, but parts of this still suck. I was looking forward to not having to pack up my whole room for the first time in my entire career, but instead I'm moving again. After four years, I'd finally gotten my room exactly the way I wanted it, and now the vast majority, if not all, of my stuff will be completely inappropriate. I get depressed when I start thinking about it all... particularly the thought of having to retire my Lakeshore kids (yes, I realize that's pathetic), so I'm choosing to attempt denial. It's been bad enough sorting through the stuff that never rated unpacking after the last move, so I'm putting off the good stuff until the last possible minute. I figure I've still got about three weeks before I absolutely have to face packing and storing or giving away all my favorite things...
Anyhow, it's late, and I have no idea how to end this, perhaps because I'm exhausted from the stress of this week. At least it's one more week down, and now I have the weekend to rest. Only 29 days to go...
Friday, April 17, 2009
an unexpected change
I feel like I should be in Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse because all I can say is "Wow."
Yesterday afternoon I got a somewhat frantic call from my principal wanting to know if I could come meet with her. Now. Right now. Please? And it's nothing bad. Don't worry. RIGHT. Because when your boss calls you 15 minutes before it's time to leave and suddenly needs to meet with you RIGHT NOW that's usually great.
So, I finished tutoring somewhat absentmindedly while I tried to figure out what she could possibly want to talk to me about. When the bell rang, I walked my kids to their cars and headed apprehensively into the office. Then my organized, well-planned, inflexible world fell completely apart.
She asked me to move to 4th grade as the one and only writing teacher. On so many levels this will be a great move. I love writing. It's by far my greatest academic strength (when it comes to teaching anyway), and while I love my babies, their writing can only go so far. I was getting a little bored in kindergarten because my part had become so familiar, and now I'll have a whole new realm of skills to learn and teach. With bigger kids, I'll be able to DO all the things I've learned in theory. I'll really be able to write. It sounds like my dream job, and in many ways it is... except it's not kindergarten.
The downside to principals beginning to plan for the next school year in February is that everyone starts planning for the next school year in February. I had next year completely laid out in my mind, and it didn't involve 4th grade. I've been thinking and talking about it for 3 months. I was finally feeling comfortable in my new school and loving working with my teammates. Next year was going to be amazing. There was no place in my plan for this sort of change.
And on a deeper level, I had never seriously considered leaving kindergarten. I'd thought about teaching 4th grade in the way I might think about picking up and moving to Australia... it was an interesting idea but not something that I would ever actually do. I love being their first teacher. I like that they fight over who gets to hold my hand. I get to see their writing progress from nothing to pages, and I watch them begin to read. This afternoon one of my little girls snuggled up in my lap with a book and started reading to me, and my heart ached. I'm not quite ready to let that go.
But I have to. I have six more weeks of kindergarten, and then I have to grow up... and even though I can list off a million reasons 4th grade should be a perfect place for me, I do NOT like this plan. It happened so fast I'm still in shock. Every single person I've told has said that 4th grade writing is THE perfect job for me, but I'm not so sure. It's a HUGE change, and even though everyone else seems so confident I can do it, I'm not. I'm terrified.
Wow. I'm going to teach 4th grade. I wonder how many times I'll have to say that for it to finally sink in...
Yesterday afternoon I got a somewhat frantic call from my principal wanting to know if I could come meet with her. Now. Right now. Please? And it's nothing bad. Don't worry. RIGHT. Because when your boss calls you 15 minutes before it's time to leave and suddenly needs to meet with you RIGHT NOW that's usually great.
So, I finished tutoring somewhat absentmindedly while I tried to figure out what she could possibly want to talk to me about. When the bell rang, I walked my kids to their cars and headed apprehensively into the office. Then my organized, well-planned, inflexible world fell completely apart.
She asked me to move to 4th grade as the one and only writing teacher. On so many levels this will be a great move. I love writing. It's by far my greatest academic strength (when it comes to teaching anyway), and while I love my babies, their writing can only go so far. I was getting a little bored in kindergarten because my part had become so familiar, and now I'll have a whole new realm of skills to learn and teach. With bigger kids, I'll be able to DO all the things I've learned in theory. I'll really be able to write. It sounds like my dream job, and in many ways it is... except it's not kindergarten.
The downside to principals beginning to plan for the next school year in February is that everyone starts planning for the next school year in February. I had next year completely laid out in my mind, and it didn't involve 4th grade. I've been thinking and talking about it for 3 months. I was finally feeling comfortable in my new school and loving working with my teammates. Next year was going to be amazing. There was no place in my plan for this sort of change.
And on a deeper level, I had never seriously considered leaving kindergarten. I'd thought about teaching 4th grade in the way I might think about picking up and moving to Australia... it was an interesting idea but not something that I would ever actually do. I love being their first teacher. I like that they fight over who gets to hold my hand. I get to see their writing progress from nothing to pages, and I watch them begin to read. This afternoon one of my little girls snuggled up in my lap with a book and started reading to me, and my heart ached. I'm not quite ready to let that go.
But I have to. I have six more weeks of kindergarten, and then I have to grow up... and even though I can list off a million reasons 4th grade should be a perfect place for me, I do NOT like this plan. It happened so fast I'm still in shock. Every single person I've told has said that 4th grade writing is THE perfect job for me, but I'm not so sure. It's a HUGE change, and even though everyone else seems so confident I can do it, I'm not. I'm terrified.
Wow. I'm going to teach 4th grade. I wonder how many times I'll have to say that for it to finally sink in...
Sunday, March 22, 2009
spring break
We're back from Hawaii. We hiked and rested and ate lots of yummy food. As vacations go, it wasn't bad, but I'm glad to be home.
We drove up and down the coast several times over the course of our week, and on more than one occasion I found myself daydreaming about what it would be like to live in Hanalei, a small town on the North Shore with no chains or big stores. It's like stepping back in time. I would love living in Hanalei (for awhile at least), but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I've finally got some pretty good roots here in Dallas... relationships I wouldn't want to walk away from.
For some reason, all week long I thought about the relationships I've failed at here in Dallas. The list seems to go on forever... seems being the key word. When I started actually making a list, it was pretty short: two community groups. That's it. That's the big horrible list I use to beat myself up. That's what convinces me that there's no point in even trying anymore.
The list of relationships that HAVE worked is actually much longer (did you catch that positive thinking???). My Barnabas group, who welcomed me with open arms when I showed up for lunch today unannounced. My CR group and the people I serve with at church. My friends from work. The women in my new Bible study. Those relationships have worked and do work. I must not be a complete and utter failure.
I'm looking forward to the next couple of months... I see the light sneaking back in :-)
We drove up and down the coast several times over the course of our week, and on more than one occasion I found myself daydreaming about what it would be like to live in Hanalei, a small town on the North Shore with no chains or big stores. It's like stepping back in time. I would love living in Hanalei (for awhile at least), but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I've finally got some pretty good roots here in Dallas... relationships I wouldn't want to walk away from.
For some reason, all week long I thought about the relationships I've failed at here in Dallas. The list seems to go on forever... seems being the key word. When I started actually making a list, it was pretty short: two community groups. That's it. That's the big horrible list I use to beat myself up. That's what convinces me that there's no point in even trying anymore.
The list of relationships that HAVE worked is actually much longer (did you catch that positive thinking???). My Barnabas group, who welcomed me with open arms when I showed up for lunch today unannounced. My CR group and the people I serve with at church. My friends from work. The women in my new Bible study. Those relationships have worked and do work. I must not be a complete and utter failure.
I'm looking forward to the next couple of months... I see the light sneaking back in :-)
Sunday, February 22, 2009
hiding in plain sight
This month has been rough... stressful, frustrating, painful... not one I want to redo.
Work has been a challenge. Since day one in 2003, I've doubted whether I should have ever chosen teaching as my profession. The past few weeks have brought that question back to the forefront. I have to admit, year six has been the easiest by far. I've finally found my stride, and I'm confident in what I'm doing. My new school is actually a decent place to work. People are happy there... but I still don't really care for teaching. That, however, is nothing new.
The thing that has been most different has been my social life. I actually have one. I've stayed busy with both old friends and newer ones. I've never been this busy with people. Ever.
In spending so much time with people, I've become painfully aware of how far I've fallen back inside myself. I go out several times a week, but few of these people really know me. I've kept them outside. My walls have gone back up. As I've slipped rather quickly back into my old comfortable habits, no one has noticed... because they don't know to look.
Two years ago I was less obviously social, but the people who I did spend time with knew me deeply. They knew my whole story, beginning to end, down to the most shameful details. They knew what my struggles were and noticed when I was starting to head down a dangerous path. Those relationships were excruciating for me because they required a kind of trust I still lack, but they also produced more growth and change than any before or since. I miss that.
I can list several big triggers in my life right now, but without a doubt, the biggest one is knowing that I will be making my way through the day alone and unknown, wishing that I had someone to talk to who would really understand. That one's hard to fix...
Work has been a challenge. Since day one in 2003, I've doubted whether I should have ever chosen teaching as my profession. The past few weeks have brought that question back to the forefront. I have to admit, year six has been the easiest by far. I've finally found my stride, and I'm confident in what I'm doing. My new school is actually a decent place to work. People are happy there... but I still don't really care for teaching. That, however, is nothing new.
The thing that has been most different has been my social life. I actually have one. I've stayed busy with both old friends and newer ones. I've never been this busy with people. Ever.
In spending so much time with people, I've become painfully aware of how far I've fallen back inside myself. I go out several times a week, but few of these people really know me. I've kept them outside. My walls have gone back up. As I've slipped rather quickly back into my old comfortable habits, no one has noticed... because they don't know to look.
Two years ago I was less obviously social, but the people who I did spend time with knew me deeply. They knew my whole story, beginning to end, down to the most shameful details. They knew what my struggles were and noticed when I was starting to head down a dangerous path. Those relationships were excruciating for me because they required a kind of trust I still lack, but they also produced more growth and change than any before or since. I miss that.
I can list several big triggers in my life right now, but without a doubt, the biggest one is knowing that I will be making my way through the day alone and unknown, wishing that I had someone to talk to who would really understand. That one's hard to fix...
Sunday, February 8, 2009
week two
The past week has been hugely frustrating.
By the time I picked my class up Monday morning I was pretty sure that it wouldn't go well. Unfortunately, I was right. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from the stress of the previous week, so every little thing felt like the end of the world. Not to mention the fact that my job is pretty emotionally demanding. Five year olds are needy, and they can't turn that off when I have nothing left to give. I was barely getting by taking care of myself. I was not up to taking care of 16 other people. At any rate, I survived... barely. My desk has morphed into one big pile of relevant verses, and just reminding myself to believe them has been a full time job.
As I prepare for tomorrow, I'm feeling a rising sense of dread. The weekend has been wonderful, but tomorrow I'll be back in the real world, dealing with all the stress that goes along with it. I know all the right answers... trust God, cry out to Him, immerse myself in His truth... and all of those things DO lessen the stress. I've been in survival mode for two weeks though. I can't sustain this much longer.
Despite the frustration and mood swings and fear of what they may mean for my future, I am clinging desperately to the joy I have. I heard a really great definition for joy a few weeks back: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God no matter what. I've been repeating it to myself hundreds of times a day over the past two weeks. Trust leads to peace which leads to joy. The trust is what gives me the peace and joy I need to get through the day... so trust is what I'm working on.
By the time I picked my class up Monday morning I was pretty sure that it wouldn't go well. Unfortunately, I was right. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from the stress of the previous week, so every little thing felt like the end of the world. Not to mention the fact that my job is pretty emotionally demanding. Five year olds are needy, and they can't turn that off when I have nothing left to give. I was barely getting by taking care of myself. I was not up to taking care of 16 other people. At any rate, I survived... barely. My desk has morphed into one big pile of relevant verses, and just reminding myself to believe them has been a full time job.
As I prepare for tomorrow, I'm feeling a rising sense of dread. The weekend has been wonderful, but tomorrow I'll be back in the real world, dealing with all the stress that goes along with it. I know all the right answers... trust God, cry out to Him, immerse myself in His truth... and all of those things DO lessen the stress. I've been in survival mode for two weeks though. I can't sustain this much longer.
Despite the frustration and mood swings and fear of what they may mean for my future, I am clinging desperately to the joy I have. I heard a really great definition for joy a few weeks back: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God no matter what. I've been repeating it to myself hundreds of times a day over the past two weeks. Trust leads to peace which leads to joy. The trust is what gives me the peace and joy I need to get through the day... so trust is what I'm working on.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
the longest week
I started this week with exciting news: as of last Monday, I'm no longer on an antidepressant. I'm still taking my other meds for now, but hey... it's a step. The rest of the week has been varying degrees of nightmarish as I've experienced basically every withdrawal symptom ever documented.
This morning I awoke to what I hope is the light at the end of the tunnel. I can stand up without losing my balance. I don't want to scream at everyone around me. I think I might make it through school tomorrow without wanting to cry. I feel like myself again, and that's a huge relief. The true test will be to see how I feel in a month, two months, six months...
Part of me doubts that my mood will remain stable without this drug (it's the first thing that had any lasting impact on my mood swings), and the rest wonders if that's selling myself and God short. I'm not the same person who started this particular medication almost 18 months ago. Even this week, as I felt so overwhelmed I could hardly breathe, I turned to Him... to His promises to give me strength and never leave me or give me more than I can handle... and I made it through.
I'm both anxious and encouraged for the days to come... to see what healing and life they will hold!
This morning I awoke to what I hope is the light at the end of the tunnel. I can stand up without losing my balance. I don't want to scream at everyone around me. I think I might make it through school tomorrow without wanting to cry. I feel like myself again, and that's a huge relief. The true test will be to see how I feel in a month, two months, six months...
Part of me doubts that my mood will remain stable without this drug (it's the first thing that had any lasting impact on my mood swings), and the rest wonders if that's selling myself and God short. I'm not the same person who started this particular medication almost 18 months ago. Even this week, as I felt so overwhelmed I could hardly breathe, I turned to Him... to His promises to give me strength and never leave me or give me more than I can handle... and I made it through.
I'm both anxious and encouraged for the days to come... to see what healing and life they will hold!
Saturday, January 24, 2009
a new, boring year
The past few weeks have been long and relatively uneventful. The two most interesting events? I've started running, and I have a college intern in my classroom for the semester.
So, event one... running. Last year I took up cycling which I enjoyed, and ever since, I've been tossing around the idea of a sprint tri. Most people seem to be scared off by the swimming piece, but for me it's been running. I hate it. Perhaps it's the memories of miserable predawn runs in middle school or the fear of agitating my old knee injury (more likely it's that I'm lazy...). Regardless, I've never been a fan. Why did I finally give in? We planned a trip to Hawaii. Nothing like the threat of a week spent in a swimsuit to motivate me to exercise!
I've made it an entire month now without quitting, and this week I noticed I actually look forward to running after work some days. It helps that I can see the effects... my legs are looking and feeling stronger, and when we rode last weekend, the ride was a breeze. Maybe I've made it over the hump.
Now, event two... intern. Last fall, after watching a pretty awful teacher mentor someone, I offered to take a student teacher. On Tuesday, she came for the first day of her first semester. Assuming all goes well, she'll split time with me and a 4th grade teacher at my school through her graduation next fall. Crazy!
After day one, she seems great. I think I'll enjoy having someone around to help out, and it's nice that she thinks I know what I'm doing! I have to admit though, I felt SO old. I'm not, really. I'm only 5 years older than she is, but I remember how old I thought 27 was when I was 22. And it is a big difference life experience wise. I've been teaching for SIX years (a point I never intended to reach), married for over three. She's still in college.
Anyhow, the spring promises to be interesting. I'm preparing for a 5k in March, just before our trip, and I just have a feeling this whole intern thing will provide lots of entertainment.
Maybe my entries will pep up soon...
So, event one... running. Last year I took up cycling which I enjoyed, and ever since, I've been tossing around the idea of a sprint tri. Most people seem to be scared off by the swimming piece, but for me it's been running. I hate it. Perhaps it's the memories of miserable predawn runs in middle school or the fear of agitating my old knee injury (more likely it's that I'm lazy...). Regardless, I've never been a fan. Why did I finally give in? We planned a trip to Hawaii. Nothing like the threat of a week spent in a swimsuit to motivate me to exercise!
I've made it an entire month now without quitting, and this week I noticed I actually look forward to running after work some days. It helps that I can see the effects... my legs are looking and feeling stronger, and when we rode last weekend, the ride was a breeze. Maybe I've made it over the hump.
Now, event two... intern. Last fall, after watching a pretty awful teacher mentor someone, I offered to take a student teacher. On Tuesday, she came for the first day of her first semester. Assuming all goes well, she'll split time with me and a 4th grade teacher at my school through her graduation next fall. Crazy!
After day one, she seems great. I think I'll enjoy having someone around to help out, and it's nice that she thinks I know what I'm doing! I have to admit though, I felt SO old. I'm not, really. I'm only 5 years older than she is, but I remember how old I thought 27 was when I was 22. And it is a big difference life experience wise. I've been teaching for SIX years (a point I never intended to reach), married for over three. She's still in college.
Anyhow, the spring promises to be interesting. I'm preparing for a 5k in March, just before our trip, and I just have a feeling this whole intern thing will provide lots of entertainment.
Maybe my entries will pep up soon...
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