Do as I Do

A church in our town had the following message on its outdoor display board:

"Be gracious. You might be the only sermon someone reads."

I usually don't pay too much attention to these posted messages, but this one resonated for some reason. Every day I remind myself that for some kids, coming to school is the best part of their day. It's predictable, safe, orderly, inviting, and most importantly, there are adults there who truly care about them and their well being. For them, no matter what else happens at home, what they witness, what they live with or live without, school is a place where they are taught good character traits and encouraged to incorporate these into their self-reflections and interactions with others. It's easy to forget that kids are always watching us--if we don't model self-respect, honesty, and compassion for them, who will? One thing I promise to always do is to admit my mistakes to children. The only way I know to be gracious is to embrace my humanity and fallibility.

There's even a little rug for the bathroom!

I had a ten year old student tell me yesterday, "No offense, but I want to see a professional counselor." Ha! Well excuse me and the entirely free and convenient services that I provide during the school day. Fine, bye.

These kids crack me up. I've now had my pretty new yellow chairs loudly farted upon, my checkered carpet peed on, and all the contents of my little fish tank dumped all over the counter and floor (thank goodness my little fishies are battery operated--they would've been goners). My room has officially been broken in (well, christened if you will) by many cute, germy, and somewhat nosy little children. I also have them to thank for my current illness.

Many kids come in and stare, and I mean stare at my dollhouse. Wide eyed, they ask, "What is that?" Um, it's a little house for dolls, not hard to figure out. I think they ask as a way of drawing my attention to their attention to it--letting me know that they would really, really, really like to be invited to play with it. I admit that some kids have even caught me playing with it when I'm alone in my office. I much enjoyed watching my husband assemble it a few weeks ago. Once it was completed and we were unpacking the furniture, he toggled between looking painfully bored and put out by having to help with such a project and excitedly picking up items and proclaiming, "Look at this! The lid to the grill opens! And look! Here's a little ladder for the bunk beds! Wow!" The novelty of it to a grown man who did not grow up with any sisters greatly amused me.

Fit

I Love, Love, Love my new job. It is such a great fit for me.

This has been hopefully one of the hardest weeks emotionally that I will have to face this year (I have trouble imagining it getting worse), but despite this, I know when I lie down at night that I have tried my hardest to help the children in my school feel safe.

The giggles and hugs are priceless, and these help me get through the day with smile still planted on my face. I'm where I'm supposed to be.

I'm super appreciative of all the staff who have gone out of their way to welcome me and make me feel more at home. And it is indeed starting to feel a bit like home. Yay!

Care Bears and Booger Books

Apparently my husband was none too pleased with the meticulous grocery list I left for him tonight:


milk
lunch stuff
fruit
dinner stuff


What? It encompasses everything we need. He feels strongly, however, that he is unable to enter a supermarket in earnest unless I have crafted him a detailed list of desired merchandise. Tonight my list wasn't cutting it.


I must remove my head from my butt and focus on something other than work. Like eating, and housework, and heaven forbid, fun activity. I seem to expel all my energy at school, getting to school, staying after school, and then thinking about school when I get home. Healthy, I know. It's that whole building the plane while you're already flying it thing....I'm trying to set up my office, figure out what I'm doing, plan my program, and meet the needs of all the kids. And I'm overwhelmed.


BUT...the kids are so darn adorable and loving that it truly puts a big ole goofy grin on my face every day :)


P.S. Thanks loyal reader, for sticking with me despite the hiatus and uber boring posts.

bye bye summer

Let the craziness begin. We were all wandering around the "teacher" store today like zombies, shopping for our rooms. I could hear multiple people mumbling to themselves, everyone exhausted from a long day at work and what we knew would also be long nights planning. Ah, the good life. I admit that I'm incredibly overwhelmed and nervous, but at least I'm doing something that excites me :) More to come when I'm running on more sleep and have a minute to collect my thoughts.

When do we begin?

I guess it really is tiny, incredibly ordinary events that can bring us back to the richest moments of our lives.

This weekend I happened to pass over Crum Creek, which we found purely by accident while driving through southeastern PA. We'd never been to this part of the state before and decided to find a park to explore and hike. I hadn't planned what would become my tiny, humble way of paying homage to my dear, remarkable friend, Dave, on the day after the anniversary of his death. Wandering carelessly hand-in-hand, poking around the ruins of 18th century buildings, appreciating the graceful bending of the trees, and admiring the adventurousness of a mother and child as they navigated their way across the slippery stones in the creek, we found something we hadn't experienced in a long time: tranquility. A few hours of repose amidst what had been a very unsettling week for us, it felt like being gently held in the palm of something so much greater than us. Something that whispered that not knowing the future is the only thing we really can know about the future. And somehow this was comforting.

This is my last week of what has been an incredible four-year journey of learning, both professional and personal in nature, camaraderie, and of course child-like goofiness. Although I couldn't be more excited and ready to embark on my new career, I know that I'm closing the door on something irreplaceable all the same.

Star Struck

So the whole way home today I was craving, and I mean craving, pickles and oranges. Bizarre, right? And no, I’m not, to my knowledge anyway, pregnant. NEway…

Thanks to our awesome friends who shared their tickets with us, this past weekend we went to the national golf tournament hosted by Tiger Woods. It was a beautiful day and a lovely golf course. We were so excited to see Tiger Woods in action and to greet him up close. As he walked right past us at the 10th hole, however, I promptly leaned over and threw up.

We're sitting right up against the roped off course watching him tee off. I'm chugging a red Gatorade because it is so darn hot outside, but I get overzealous and accidentally dump half the bottle down my throat. Trigger gag reflex. My husband, blissfully oblivious to the fact that I'm barfing Gatorade all over my new white pants, starts smacking my shoulder, telling me to pay attention because Tiger is about to walk right in front of us. I am distracted, however, by the current yakking and subsequent ruining of my pants that I’m not at all aware, nor do I particularly care, that Tiger stands within 5 feet of us. Yep.

Does this story surprise you or seem out of character for me? Sadly, it seems to be par for the course of my life (ha!)

I recounted this at work today, and my coworker Rebecca quickly sympathized, saying something along the lines of "I found myself in a similar situation a few years back. When I saw Tiger Woods in person, I had poo squished between my toes." How unfortunate. Cue the obvious questions on my part (Poo? Whose poo?).

Well, that about covers it.