Spiritual Meme

I was tagged earlier today by Brenda. I apologize for the delay, but there are four bloggers living under one roof right now. I doubt I need to explain myself further. As Brenda mentioned, I am a new Christian. A very new Christian. Some of these questions were a little hard for me, but I did my best.

What is Your Life Verse?
Luke 16:10 "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much." I don't know why this verse has always stuck with me, but it has. I have a really hard time with people who are obsessed with material things, and especially people who are obsessed with image. When I was out of school, working a terrible job that was putting me in debt faster than I could keep up with it, falling behind on rent with my roommate, and trying in vain to find a teaching job, I was in a position where many would have lost faith in their God. This verse saved me. Every day I thought of this verse, and what it meant. I realized that God had a purpose for putting me in the situation I was in. Miraculously, this was the time in my life that I felt closer to God than ever before, and I was happier than I have ever been. I was newly baptised and on top of the world. Just when I thought my window of opportunity had closed, I got a call from an elementary school 60 miles away. My whole life changed at that point. I give all the credit to my God, and I will forever live by this verse. I trusted Him when I had very little, and now he has given me much more than I ever dreamed.

Give a bit of your testimony.
My journey to a relationship with the lord kind of happened haphazardly and unexpectedly. After about two years of living in Grand Junction, being totally lost, and making a million mistakes, I met a guy named Luke. I can't say we were dating, because we had just met, but he invited me to his church. I went with him, and fell in love with the church. I was a little uncomfortable going into it, but coming out, I just remember wanting to go back. And I did, again and again. It has been about four years since then, and I still go to the same church, although not as often as I would like to now that I have moved. Last July I was baptized, and I got involved in the children's ministry, working with 3-5th graders. Funny, but I never heard from that guy again. It's like he disappeared from the face of the planet. I am having a hard time now, because I have not found a church in Montrose, and I am having a hard time letting go of the Fellowship Church, but I will figure it out.

Do you have a favorite preacher?
I am with my mom here, I love Dan Hooper, executive pastor at the fellowship church. He is by far the best speaker I have ever listened to. He is the kind of preacher who can have you rolling in the aisle laughing one minute, and sobbing the next. Very captivating and inspiring. I, too, have read "All Out," and would recommend it to anyone. If he would start speaking at a church in Montrose, my dillema would instantly be solved.

What's the best bible study you have ever done?
It's hard for me to say the best, because I have only done one. The one I did was Rick Warren's "The Purpose Driven Life". I loved it. I actually followed it daily from beginning to end, and I feel I was changed by it. Anyone out there who hasn't read the book and done the bible study that goes along with it, I would definitely recommend it. I don't know if it can actually be considered "a bible study," but it definitely opened my eyes and changed the way I think about and live my life.

What do you feel is God's calling on your life?
This was an easy one for me. I have no doubt that God's calling for me is teaching. When I was a little girl, everyone would tell me that I was meant to be a teacher, but I didn't believe them. When I was in high school, one of my teachers told me that I had the handwriting of an elementary school teacher. When I started college, I was an English major. I wanted to write the next Great American Novel. Then I found out that pretty much all I could do was teach English. I changed my major to Psychology. My guidance counselor kept suggesting I become a school counselor. When I went to do my internship, I ended up in a school. That was when I fell in love with teaching, and went back to get my teaching license. Now I am officially a teacher, and more in love with my job and my students than I ever thought possible. It is really obvious to me that God has been leading me on this path since I was a little girl.

A Beginning...And An End

This is me last August. Three days before the first day of school. One day after I got hired.




When these photos were taken, courtesy of my mom who came to Montrose that day to help me get set up, I was frantic. I had just gotten hired the day before, had to quit my job at Redlands Mesa Golf Club with no notice, was still living 60 miles away in Grand Junction, and had nothing but an empty classroom to work with. Needless to say, the reality that I had just landed my dream job had not yet set in. I was still in that phase where I couldn't convince myself that it had actually happened. I had become a teacher.

Three days later, my classroom was set up, complete with a cursive alphabet, name tags on all the desks, and a word wall. My classroom was ready for the arrival of 19 seven and eight year olds, and I was terrified. I had no idea what to expect, or how to kick off the school year. But, low and behold, that bell rang, the kids entered, and so began "the first year to end all first years," as my principal calls it.

On the first day of school, I had a student throw up. Everywhere. That was the day that I found out how wonderful day-time custodians are. I would have this happen two more times before the end of the year. Within days I had a little boy tell me there was a spider in the doorway. I looked and saw that it was my favorite species of spider - the black widow. I ushered all my kids to the other side of the room, and called the custodian. An hour after he killed it, there was another one in the same spot. That was the day my students learned exactly how I felt about spiders. We would discover three more of them in our safe little classroom before Christmas break. The first time my room mother came in to help out, I took the presence of another adult as an opportunity to run down the hallway to use the staff restroom. That was where I was when we had our first fire drill. That was the day I found out how wonderful my room mother was.

Over the course of the school year, I learned many lessons. I learned how much fun a 90 minute commute to work isn't, and quickly moved in with another teacher at the school. I learned that third graders have a lot more wit than I ever gave them credit for. I learned that forgetting to send in your roll and lunch count isn't the end of the world, but it drives the secretary and cooks crazy. I learned that meeting with a group of six kids and keeping the other 13 on task is harder than it looks. Make-up work is a pain in the rear - for the absentees and the teacher. Science experiments are a lot of fun, but they are also messy, so don't do them on the day that the custodian quits. Popcorn is not the best snack to have during a movie. If a kid brings cupcakes to school for a birthday, have the party right before the bus bell rings. If a child tells you they need to use the bathroom, believe them, even if it is in the middle of a math lesson. It is never a good idea to go out with your co-workers on a school night. Seeing the look on the face of a child who struggles, when they finally get it, is priceless. A hug a day is good for you. 19 hugs twice a day is better.

Most importantly, I learned this year that being a teacher is the best decision I ever made. Throughout this school year, it never really occured to me that I was getting up and going to work. The only time I felt like I was "at work," was during staff meetings and inservices. When I did need a day off, and called a sub, I felt guilty all day that I wasn't with my kids. Paid days off are great, but they aren't that special when you actually like what you get paid to do.

This week, I was able to forget that it was the last week. As I gorged myself on Dominoes pizza with my students, ran the bases in the staff versus 5th grade kickball game while hearing my third graders cheer me on, doused myself, my students, and my classroom in shaving cream, threw myself head first down a slip and slide fully clothed, and got attacked by 19 kids with wet sponges, I was able to forget how soon I would be putting them on the bus for the last time. It was a spectacular week, where I got to be a kid with them. It was a spectacular week that ended in tears and tough goodbyes.

If I would have had a camera yesterday, the shots would have been very similar to the ones taken at the beginning of the year. Text books collected, counted, and put away. Student work coming down off the wall. Desks and chairs cleaned and stacked. Word wall taken down. Tons of cards, pictures, stuffed animals and plants, given to me throughout the year, packed up to go home, because I cannot bear to get rid of them. Computer unplugged, and overhead covered. Yesterday, I literally put away my first year of teaching. It was a lot harder than setting it up, in many ways. And, although I only had one day rather than the three I was granted in August, I was anything but in a hurry.

So here I sit, my first day of summer break. All my little busy bees have flown away. I will see them all again in 12 weeks, but they will not be my kids anymore. They will continue to move up the hallway, until they eventually graduate out of elementary school status. I can only hope that they will continue to come see me, at least for a while, and that they will look back fondly at their third grade teacher- the teacher who was terrified of spiders, was late everywhere she went, and had the "ballerina hairdo."

In August, I will head back into my deserted classroom, and begin the process of getting it ready again. There will be new names on all the desks and mailboxes, and new faces staring back at me on the first day of my second year. I am sure that I will love my second class just as much, and miss them just as much when the final bell of the school year rings. But I truly believe my first class will also be the most special, because they were the ones who first taught me what it means to be a teacher.



By the way, the reality that I have landed my dream job has still not yet kicked in!

Cleaning Product #5

I learned something new today. I learned something from a group of 9 year olds. And my mother would be proud, because I learned about a new cleaning product. A while back, my mom posted about cleaning tips. As if the fact that she febreezes her shih tzu wasn't amazing enough, what wowed everyone is that she only uses four products (light maintenance products not included). Well, add another product to your list, Mom...

Shaving Cream!!!!!

As you all know, the school year is coming to an end. This means many things for many people. For moms, it means daycare, sending kids to summer camps, going to summer ball games... For kids, it means running through sprinklers, sleeping in, and many many days off... For teachers it means the grueling task of shutting down the classroom for 12 weeks of vacancy. I started this task today. We started by clearing out the desks. That part was pretty easy. 10 minutes, 3 full trash cans, 2 full recycling bins, and 19 bulging backpacks later, it was done. Easy enough. Then I told them to pull the name tags, cursive letter lines, and homework charts off their desks. Now, at the beginning of the year, I had the fabulous idea of attaching all of these things with double sided tape. As the year progressed, my students had the fabulous idea of adding more tape, all the way around everything, when I wasn't watching (or they thought I wasn't). I thought it was cute. I had a thing for scotch tape myself when I was there age, so it was a bonding moment. I also thought it was cute when they spilled water, soda, punch, and other liquids on their desk during various parties. (I also had a thing for spilling things at their age.) However, I did not think it was cute at all when they began pulling at these various desktop items, and I realized immediately that tape and spillage do not mix! I was horrified to see that half of it came off, half of it didn't, and the desktops, in a matter of seconds, were sticky, gluey, gobby, terrible messes!

I had no clue what to do! So, I did what any cool as a cucumber teacher would do when faced with unexpected disaster (and a very angry custodian). I laughed and said "start picking!" They did not laugh. As a matter of fact, as they set to picking, they began grumbling under their breaths about how no other teacher made them do this. Somewhere in all the grumbling and complaints, I overheard some girls talking about how in second grade they used shaving cream. Shaving cream? I never thought for a minute that it would work, but it was worth a shot. While the kids were in PE, I ran across the street to City Market, and bought five cans of the stuff. When the kids returned, I told them that we were going to do the last science experiment of the school year. Then I proceded to walk up to a table group and unload an entire can all over their desks. What followed was a few moments of dropped jaws, staring, silence, and a chirping cricket. (No joke, there really was a cricket - the second one we have had in the room this year.) Then, they dove in!

We had so much fun! It was a party! The desks were covered, the kids were covered, even I was covered in shaving cream! They played in it, and drew pictures, and giggled, and gabbed about how much fun I am! It was a hoot! And, for the miraculous part! When I went around with a wet rag, and a dry rag, and began cleaning the desks one at a time, there was not a sticky spot on them! The tape and stick washed away when I rinsed the rags and we washed our hands. I even had a parent come in and comment on having never seen the desks so clean! It was fabulous and fun!

But...and there is always a but...I don't think my principal was as impressed as I was. At some point in all the craziness, I looked up and realized that my principal and his second in command were standing in the doorway. I have no idea how long they had been watching my fantastic teaching methods, but the looks on their faces told me it may have been a while. I quickly mumbled something about testing a theory on the cleaning properties of common hygiene products. I don't really know if I was trying to be funny, but they didn't laugh. As a matter of fact, the only response I got was "you're not getting that on the carpet, I hope." I quickly choked out, "no" as I used the toe of my shoe to cover the most obvious spot. When I looked up, they were gone.

However, the classroom now looks spectacular, with clean desks and a spotless carpet. This is all a good thing considering our janitor decided to quit last week, and my room hasn't been cleaned in days (nor will it be cleaned tonight). So, I'm pretty sure I still have a job next year, and now I have a new cleaning product sitting in my shower that I didn't even know about! Life is good, even when it's hectic!

So, now that I have informed everyone about a revolutionary new product, I must tend to the cupcakes I promised my students for tomorrow. I am not thrilled about pumping them full of yet more sugar this week, nor am I thrilled about getting crumbs all over our squeaky clean desks, but I promised, so I must come through. If I get my counter sticky, which is inevitable, at least I now know how to clean it up. (This is a good thing, because I used all my simple green killing a massive spider. I wonder if shaving cream works on bugs....)

Thursday Thirteen #1

I was tagged again today, this time by my mom. For once, I didn't have to think long and hard about how to respond. I was more worried about only listing 13 things I love about summer.

1. Sleeping in
Nothing is better than waking up to the birds chirping, except for doing it without an alarm clock. (Or a screaming 10 month old, but I already went there.)

2. 12 Weeks Off
Okay, so this will be my first real summer vacation, so who knows if I will even like having nothing to do for three months. Okay, who am I kidding...I'm going to love it!

3. The Ice Cream Man
Yes, I still get excited when I hear the melody coming down the street. Yes, I still chase him down. The ice cream man is so cool!

4. The smell of summer rain
There is just nothing quite like a summer rain storm, and nothing better than the smell it leaves behind with the rainbow.

5. The sound of lawn mowers
There is something about the sound of lawn mowers going, and the smell of fresh cut grass that just says "summer". This sound is especially nice if you are not the one pushing the mower, and if it is not before 8am.

6. Birds in the morning and locusts and night
Birds chirping, and locusts...doing whatever it is they do... are two of the best sounds. In the summer, you get to wake up to one and fall asleep to the other. Bliss!

7. Running around barefoot
I hate shoes. My feet hate shoes. I loves socks, though. In the summer, you can run around in sock-clad feet wherever you go, indoors or out. Except local businesses, such as Wal-Mart and City Market. The don't like it. They don't seem to mind fuzzy slippers, though.

8. Wearing my hair up
There is nothing more irritating than hair in your face. Yet, I look really bad with short hair. If you don't believe me, ask my mom to post my second grade school picture. In the summer, I have an excuse to pull my hair up on top of my head, and nobody gives me grief about it. At least not as many people. (They just don't know how cool a bun on top of your head is. The first graders call me "The ballerina teacher".)

9. Lounging Clothes
In the summer, I can wear lounging clothes all day if I want to. (Believe me, I want to). And I don't even have to worry about being seen out in them, because I don't have to go anywhere if I don't want to. (Believe me, I don't want to).

10. Golf
In the summer, I love spending time on the golf course with my dad. This is not to say I actually play golf. I do have a great set of clubs my dad built for me, and really cute golf shoes. I do indeed swing those clubs around, and occasionally I make contact. Sometimes this contact is actually with that little dimply ball. But I do not claim to be a golfer. My dad actually quit as my coach last year, after I washed too many of my cute pink golf balls in a rather monstrous lake. He said it was a puddle. It was a lake.

11. Fishing
Spending time at the lake with my dad is another way I love to spend summer days. Once again, I do not claim to fish. I go through the motions, but Dad says that catching lakeweed does not count. Catching his fishing line also does not count. Even though the last time I went fishing my dad made me clean all the fishies, and stood back and laughed while I turned green and gagged, I still look forward to going again soon.

12. Ball Games
Okay, this sounds weird, because I am not actually remotely good at any athletic event involving a ball. However, I do love to roller blade around the park, and nothing is more summery than a little league game going on the park while younger siblings occupy the playground, and dads grill burgers and dogs. I love eavesdropping on these moments.

13. Cool Breezy Nights
I, unfortunately in my state of the art apartment do not have the luxury of air conditioning. Or a swamp cooler. And until my mom and dad get out here to help me, I do not have ceiling fans either. I cherish the moments when the sun goes down, the windows are open, and a gentle summer breeze drifts through my apartment.

14. 12 Weeks Off
Oh, you said thirteen. My bad...

Works For Me!

My Aunt Bev tagged me today. I cannot tell if she is making fun of me, or being serious, but since she hasn't actually seen my apartment (or car), I am going to assume she was serious and humor her.

Here's the deal. I got to school this morning, and my mentor teacher asked me where I was last night. After a moment lost in deep thought, I realized she was refering to the teacher-inductee meeting. The last one of the year. The one I forgot about. A while later I went to pay for some lunch tickets, opened my checkbook, and guess what? No checks! It took me three trips from the library to my classroom in order to be fully prepared for today's after school meetings. My apartment is a disaster, my car is worse, and it took me 20 minutes to find the check replacements when I got home. To make a short story long, I am not organized. Not one bit.

I do, however, have one of the most organized classrooms in the building. There is a slight chance that this is because I am a first year teacher, have not lost my sanity quite yet, and I have less stuff. I prefer to think that it is because at least one area of my life is organized. I do realize that not everyone reading this post has a classroom, and therefore this will probably be useless chatter to many. I am, however, going to talk about it anyway, if only to make myself feel a little bit better.

In the morning, when my students walk in the door, there is an assignment on the board. They mark their lunches by putting a pink or blue push pin by their name on the bulletin board, and get right to work. This gives me a few minutes to go through their homework and parent folders, which they placed on the back counter upon arrival. When they are finished with their work, they will go to the hanging files on the counter, and place it within the file for whatever subject we are doing. If they need any sort of supply, they will go to the borrowing bins, which I somehow manage to keep fully stocked with paper, pencils, markers, scissors, etc. etc. If they need to sharpen a pencil, they know to do it before we start reading block, or they will use a dull pencil all day. If they happen to need to use the restroom at any point in the day, they will go and get both boys passes or both girls passes. One of them they will place on their desk, so that if I look for them, I know where they are. The other they will take with them so that the hallway police do not arrest them. (a little joke I share with my class) When they walk in to the room after recess, they will immediately grab a barrier (folder to hide paper), and get ready for the multiplication minute drill. When I say stop, they will pass their papers, get out their math notebooks and be ready for the problem of the day. When this is done, they will get out their math textbooks. This is because we do the same routine daily. At about 2:45 when I suddenly start calling out names, they will grab their mail, collect their homework, get their parent folder from me, and put it in their backpack, no questions asked. At 3:05 when the bus riders leave, the car riders and walkers will busy themselves with whatever classroom jobs need to be done until 3:15 when it is their turn to go. At this point, I am left with a sparkly clean and organized room, all ready for the next day.

You may be wondering, what the big deal is. It is a BIG deal to psychological well-being. I do not have to spend half my morning trying to locate homework that may or may not be completed. I do not have to rally my students to sit down after every single transition. I do not have kids freak out when they lose a pencil, or need a piece of paper. I do not have to listen to the constant dynn of a pencil sharperner grinding away all day. I am not asked a million times a day "can I go the the bathroom?", "where do I turn this in?", or "what do I do now?" When I call out a student's name, "what?" is never the response. I have seen these things happen. I have experienced these things. It is not pretty.

Okay guys, so I realize I am totally pushing it with this one. I apologize, but when I realized that the mere thought of actually responding to a tag about organization was completely ridiculous, I developed somewhat of a complex. I had to brag about something. There are seven days of school left. When it is done, I promise I will talk about something else. I also promise to make my first big project (after hybernation) organizing my apartment.

So, one more thing to share. I already mentioned completely missing the meeting last night. (I was probably off somewhere blogging.) Did I also mention that I double booked our class auction and the third grade movie? Did I mention that my stack of grading is now taller than I am, and report cards are due Monday? How about the fact that I still have not gotten cable, and can't imagine being able to relax in front of it anyway. Sometimes dinner is forgotten, until I wake up the next morning starving. I am consistently a minute or two late getting my class to every special, and occasionally a few minutes late to recess duty. Oh, and I forgot about my bus duty last Thursday. Are you sensing the pattern?

So, now it is my turn to tag. I need some major help with time management. I am clueless. I try, I really do, but I can't seem to figure it out on my own. So, I am officially tagging my Aunt Bev, my cousin Sarah, my mom Barb, my Grandma Judy, Brenda, and anyone else who would care to share.

Is that all I do? I just say "tag you're it", and the game begins? Or have I done way to many playground duties this year? Do I have to pick a title? I can't do that! I guess I'll find out.

I'm Not Cool

Have you ever sat back and just watched a group of kids? I don't mean siblings, or even cousins. I mean a group of kids who are unrelated, and forced to interact with one another in a social setting. Have you ever just observed?

I have. I do it almost every day of my life. As I was going through the daily routine today, watching my students work in small groups, play together on the playground, and have conversations in the cafeteria, something occured to me. "Cool" is not in their vocabulary. Okay, so they say it all the time: "that is sooo cool!" or "Mom, stop, you're being uncool!". But do they really know what it means? I am convinced that they do not.

I have a little girl in my class who came to school today in a Tweety Bird jumper with bows in her hair. She looked absolutely adorable, but I do not think she was worried about looking "cool". There is another group of girls who bring their dolls or ponies to school every day and carry them everywhere with them. Is this sweet? Absolutely. Is it the "cool" thing to do? Probably not. I have boys who pick pink when asked what color construction paper they want. I have girls who play football at recess, and boys who play house. I have boys who draw flowers and girls who draw dinosaurs. When we turn the cd player on for class parties, everyone dances, and they don't seem to care who is watching them.

My point here is that when you are in the third grade, you are who you are. There is nobody more real than a little kid. They are not busy trying to be somebody they are not, or pretending to like someone or something they don't. They are into what they are into, and that is that. Until about 5th or 6th grade, when "fitting in" becomes a life goal, I truly believe that kids just really want to have fun.

I went into this school year hoping to teach my students some valuable lessons they could take with them up the hallway. As it turns out, they have taught me an important one: just be youself and enjoy the life you are given.

The next time I am at a get-together with my friends, I will dance too. Who cares if I can't follow a beat to save my life? This does not make me an uncoordinated idiot. It just means I can't dance.

The next time somebody asks me what shows I am into, I will tell them I like the Disney Channel. Who cares if it is a kids' channel? This does not make me immature. It just means I like Disney.

The next time someone asks me what music I like, I will admit to them that I like Hilary Duff. Who cares if she is a teeny-bopper craze? This does not make me a teen idol wanna-be. It just means I like her music.

The next time I am running errands with no make-up, my hair a mess, and wearing "lounging clothes", I will not worry about running into someone I know. Who cares if I don't look my best? This does not make me a slob. It just means I like to be comfortable when I can be.

And the next time someone asks me if I am a Christian, I will tell them yes, without hesitation. Who cares what they think of it? This does not make me a person who will judge their every move and preach at them. It just means I have a relationship with my Lord and Savior.

Most importantly, I will try to remember that people can easily lose respect for someone who hides things, lies, or tries to be someone they're not. Nobody can really lose respect for someone just being real.

There is a song I hear occasionally on the radio, and I love the chorus:
"I'm not cool, that's okay, my God loves me anyway. I'm not cool, that's all right, I'm still precious in his sight. I'm not cool, I don't care, how I'm supposed to do my hair. I'm not cool, that's okay, my God loves me...my God loves me anyway."

I find these lyrics to be totally liberating.

Because Of My Mom

I have the perfect mom. I know what you're thinking - I am only saying that because it is Mother's Day. While it does sadden me that I don't say it enough, I kid you not - every day of the year, she is a wonderful mom.

Growing up as my mother's daughter, I have a lot of good memories. Some are happy, some are sad, but all of them are good. For 27 years now, my mom has been a mother, and this is the calling to which she has faithfully devoted her life. There has never been a moment when I did not feel fully loved, and there has never been a time when she has not come through for my sister and me. These are just a few of them...

When my sister and I were kids, the big craze was Teddy Ruxpen, the talking bear. Of course, my sister and I had to have one. We already had a talking Big Bird and Mother Goose, but we needed the bear. And, of course, they were completely sold out everywhere. One day my mom got a call that one store had just gotten one in, and would hold it for thirty minutes. She left work during the storm of the century, drove like a mad-woman in dangerous conditions to get there in time, and walked through the parking lot in ankle-deep water - all to get some silly toy that her daughters couldn't live without. (She even sustained a rather unusual injury while on this mission, but she will kill me if I go there, so I will not.) That bear is long gone now, but the knowledge of what my mother did that day stays with me. Becuase of my mom, Christmas was extra special that year.

When I was a sophomore in high school, my cheerleading squad won a trip to Hollywood, California to march in the Hollywood Christmas Parade. A week before we were to leave, the mom who was supposed to chaperone backed out. Our coach gently informed us that we could not take the trip. We had been practicing the routine for weeks, and had already received our uniforms and plane tickets. It was devastating, and I was inconsolable. My mom knew how big a part of my life cheerleading was, and how much going on this trip meant to me. Somehow she managed to scrounge up the money, get the time off work, and muster up the courage to spend three nights in a hotel with 12 high school girls (not all of whom were the nicest young ladies, might I add). Because of my mom, we got to go on the vacation of a lifetime.

A year later, when I was a Junior, prom time rolled around. This was not a happy time for me. I did not have a date, or a dress, and was heartbroken to accept the fact that I was going to have to miss out on the big night. About three days before prom, I met a guy from another school that I wanted to ask, but there was still the issue of the dress. There were only three days remaining, and I was so busy with cheer practice and a part time job, that it just wasn't going to happen. One night I got home late from work, and found my mother waiting for me - with a gorgeous dress, two tickets, and the phone ready for me to call this guy. Her and my grandma had gone shopping while I was at work. Because of my mom, I got to be a part of the biggest event of the year (with no curfew!).

Because of my mom, I had the best childhood. I got to experience the zoo and the circus (even though she fears circuses). I had the best birthday parties, even one that involved a dozen 13-year-old girls asleep in the living room. I had someone to watch every new cheer and dance routine I ever learned - twice. Because of my mom, I had cupcakes to bring to school every year on my birthday. I had the most magical Christmases (she still writes "from Santa" on some of the gifts). I had someone to read to, and someone to play board games with on rainy days. Because of my mom, I know how to scrapbook and cross-stitch and sew. I know how to crochet and cook (well, kind of). Because of my mom, I am officially addicted to American Idol and blogging. I have a place to sleep on the weekends, because I cannot stand to spend more than two weeks away from her.

Most importantly, because of my mom, I am truly blessed. God was definitely looking out for me when he gave me the mom he did.

Happy Mother's Day, mom. You truly have no idea how special you are. You are my best friend, and one of my favorite people.

Tuesdays With Barb

I spent the day with my mom Tuesday. It was one of her many days to watch Cameron, so I got to see first hand what her life is like. Usually I am only there on the weekends, so I just hear about her typical weekday. Yesterday, I got to witness it. . .

The day started out okay. All right, so it really didn't. I was woken up at 7:45 by a screeching 10-month old. I'm the type of person who likes to wake up slowly. I purposely set my alarm an hour earlier than I need to so I can have a cup of coffee and read for a while before I start my day. I didn't get to do this so much on Tuesday. Instead of waking up peacefully to my alarm (the kind you can shut off with the simple push of a button, might I had), I woke up to the lung capacity of a very unhappy baby. Instead of reading the next chapter in my very enjoyable book, I had the privelage of watching Sesame Street, and then Dora the Explorer. This was just the beginning. . .

About halfway through Dora, Cameron started getting fussy. Enter Super Nana! I watched as my mom came in and started entertaining the baby. First it was patty cake. Then climb on Nana. Then it was to the exersaucer. Then it was bouncy seat. Then more patty cake, and a little more climb on Nana. Then, crawl around on the floor for a while, with Nana chasing behind like crazy. This went on for an hour or so before it was time for lunch and a nap. The amazing thing about it, was that this entire time, my mom's dog, Chelsea, was also crawling and jumping all over her!

Around noon, Mom finally got Cameron to go to sleep. Not two minutes later, the lawn guy showed up. Boy did Chelsea love that! Not only was nap time over for a very cranky baby, we got to listen to her bark non-stop for about 10 minutes. During that time, I think the phone rang about two or three times.

After the lawn guy left, and the dog was banished to the back yard, it was back to the cycle: patty cake, climb Nana, exersaucer, bouncy seat, crawl everywhere, patty cake, climb Nana, exersaucer... you get the picture.

My mom did this from 7:30am until 8:00pm. During this time, I think the phone rang at least a dozen times, the dog continuosly hopped around her feet (she tripped over her twice), the dog threw up the fruit loops she stole from the baby, and Mom still managed to fix a wonderful pork chop dinner for my dad and me. Miraculously, she seemed to enjoy every minute of it, and was still smiling when Krissy showed up to take the sweet little cherub home. I was over it by 11:00am.

My mom and dad are going to Kansas for a few days this summer, during which time my mom is turning this job over to me. Yay!!! I truly can't wait. (big sigh).

The next time my mom tells me she has a migraine, I will know why.

The next time she says she is exhausted, I will believe her.

The next time I sit down to one of her fabulous meals, I will truly appreciate how much went into it.

The next time I go into her blog and there is no new post, I will not question her about it.

The next time my mom invites me over on a Tuesday, I will politely decline.

I am in awe! She truly is a super nana!

What I Have Learned

I have officially expended my extended weekend. Yes, I do still have tomorrow, but I have to factor in a drive back to Montrose, and getting my act together for school in the morning. Tomorrow is officially a school night. Many of my colleagues would have spent a four day weekend painting their nails, taking bubble baths, and catching up on re-runs of their soaps. Not me. I spent most of my time off grading papers, shopping for our third and final auction, re-stocking our treasure box, and figuring out how the heck I am going to teach fractions and plate tectonics by May 25th. What can I say, I am addicted.

My mom and I spent part of our day together shopping. We went to Barnes & Noble to check out their newest selection of Jodi Piccoult books, and the fishstore to check out their newest selection of neons, and starbucks to spend a gift card so generously given to me by a student for "Teacher Appreciation Week", and the Christian bookstore. It was a lot of fun. As we were driving under an overpass, I found it crucial to inform my mom that at this moment my kiddos were getting ready to start the Problem of the Day in math, and boy I hoped my sub knew enough about perimeter and area to help my struggling mathematicians. What can I say, I can't shut it off. I am a teacher, even on my days off.

I chose to spend much of this particular day off grading papers, especially writing. I love grading writing. I find myself chuckling out loud, and handing off various papers to my mom, so she can chuckle too. As I sat there reading their laborous paragraphs, it occured to me that I only have 12 days left with these guys. While a part of me is very excited about having 12 weeks off this summer (I have two Max Lucado books and a penguin puzzle, not to mention the first and second seasons of One Tree Hill on DVD I got for my birthday waiting for attention) a part of me is really sad about the close of my first year. Everyone tells me "you'll be at the same school next year, and you'll get to see them in the fall." Anyone who is a teacher would understand that it is not the same. There is a world of difference between having kids in your class, and seeing them in the hallway. As of May 25th, they will no longer be my class. This thought got me reminiscing about some of the funny and unexpected things that have happened in the classroom since August. Mostly, some of the things that have come out of their mouths.

My students and I have a pretty laid-back relationship. I use sarcasm often, and they know they can use it (within limits) with me. One day, I had the class get in to groups to work on a Science activity. I told them they could work with a partner of their choice, as long as they "used their time wisely." A few minutes later, one little girl came up to me and said, "Can we work with a friend?" I said to her, "I just said you could work with someone." She said, "Yea, I know, but can it be a friend?" Without thinking I responded with "No, work with someone you hate!" Without a moment's hesitation she smiled sweetly, linked her little arm through mine and said, "Good, in that case I'll work with you." There was another teacher in the room who almost choked on her diet soda at this point, and I was left speechless, trying to get over the fact that I lost a battle of wits and was completely burned by an eight year old. (Note to self: don't teach third graders sarcasm).

One day I was working with my high reading group. This was a small group of kids who were reading a pretty difficult book. In the story, one of the characters was grumbling about the salaries of baseball players. I asked the kids if they knew what a salary was. One of the smartest boys in my class looked at me and said, "Isn't that a green vegetable that gets stuck in your teeth?" Somehow I managed to keep a straight face. (Note to self: just tell them what a new word means, don't ask).

My student are right at that age where they are losing teeth left and right. I think I have a tooth pop out about twice a week. The nurse has these cute little plastic boxes that are shaped like teeth and attatched to a string. This way, students can wear them around their necks and keep track of their teeth until the tooth fairy comes to claim them. The other day, one of my boys came up to me, stuck his plastic tooth container in my face and said, "Look! It's a pregnant tooth!" I almost died! I actually wasted about three minutes of our precious instructional time just laughing, and letting the rest of the class laugh. (Note to self: Never ever mention the birds and the bees in a third grade classroom.)

The teacher across the hallway shared this one with me. She was reading one of the Little House on the Prairie books to her third graders. In one scene, the girls were present while a mother cow gave birth to a calf. In the middle of her reading, one of her students began waving his hand in the air. When she called on him, he had much to share. "There's more to it than that," he said. "Before the mother can even get pregnant with a calf, she needs the boy cow's squirm." Don't ask me how she managed to get through that with a straight face, but I seriously could not have done it! (Note to self: Skip this chapter next year.)

I was told I would learn a lot in my first year of teaching, but I never dreamed I would learn this much!

I love being an elementary school teacher. I actually feel really lucky that I am only in my first year and have many more years of this kind of stuff to look forward to. I hope those of you who visit my blog don't mind hearing about it. Often. While I do have tons of other things to talk about (ask my family how much I talk), some of my favorite things to talk about are stories from the classroom. What can I say? Teaching is not just my job. It is pretty much my life.

I've Caught the "Bug"

I am not fond of the internet. To be more exact, I am not fond of technology in general. I enjoy doing things the old way, it feels safe. For example, when I write things using a pencil and a piece of paper, I do not have to worry about my work suddenly disappearing into cyberspace never to be recovered. I do not have to worry about it suddenly being reformatted into some illegible sequence of letters and symbols. I do not have to resave every few minutes just to be safe. I have had two computers die on me (one right in the middle of my on-line teaching classes). I do not like computers, and they (apparently) do not like me.

For this reason, when my mother called me a little over a week ago and told me she had a blog, my first response was, "A what? Is it contagiuos?" After she explained what it was, my next response was to write down her address, set it aside, and go back to grading papers. When she continued to ask me about what I thought of it, and I was running out of excuses as to why I had not had a chance to look yet, I decided I had better just comply and give it a peek. I finally did about a week ago.

Since then, I have let my grading pile up so high I fear I will never get through it all by the end of the school year; I completely forgot about midterms and sent them home a week late; I have not gotten to bed before midnight yet this week; I forgot to eat dinner Wednesday night; I completed my sub-plans for Monday at 6:15 Friday after school; I even forgot to bake the cupcakes I promised my class I would bring in on my birthday. (Thank God for thoughtful room mothers with baking abilities.) To make a long story short, I became addicted to reading the blogs posted by my mom, aunt, and cousin. I immediately found out that I could not yet post comments, and so here I am, creating my own blog. (Yes, it is contagious.)

So here I am. In a Moment... It took me a while to think of a name, but chose this one for a number of reasons. I got the name from a Hilary Duff song, Fly. The opening lyrics to this song are: "In a moment, everything can change, feel the wind on your shoulder. For a minute, all the world can wait, let go of your yesterday." These words, and the song in general, are so fitting of my life right now. I listen to it when I feel like I am losing my grip, and I am immediately calmed. Looking up and realizing that not one aspect of your life today is even remotely the same as it was a year ago is unnerving. I love my life now, but sometimes have trouble letting go of my yesterday.

Another reason for this title choice is my undeniable ability to procrastinate. (See above paragraph about the midterms and grading.) I often joke about "why do today what can be put off til tomorrow?" I tend to see many things as capable of being done in a moment, after I finish this one. I can't help it, I juggle too many balls sometimes, but I always manage to get things done. I also find it therapeutic - I am quickly learning how to handle stress.

Last, but not least, I chose this title on account of a phrase I am famous for in my family: "Okay, just a moment." It doesn't matter what I am asked to do, it can be coming to the table because dinner is ready, run to the garage and get something for mom, get my jeans because mom is doing laundry, come to the phone, its for you...the list goes on. My classic response is "Okay, in a moment." I don't do it consciously, it just happens. It is not my fault I am always in the middle of something. I am not a sitter. I can't just sit. I am always doing something. So, when you ask me to do something, there is a good chance that I will need to come to a "stopping point," before I comply. Sorry.

So here is my first post. Mom and Aunt Bev, I know you have been waiting patiently for me to get this far. I am sorry for the delay, I just needed a moment. After reading the posts of both you and Sarah, I have come to realize that I come from a line of very gifted (and funny) writers. I sense a memoir being published soon. I look forward to joining this legacy.