Sunday, May 17, 2009

1 a.m.

I just feel sick to my stomach not knowing. I HATE change. When I was in elementary school, I went to 9 different schools. I've moved 29 times in my life. That must be a big part of why I can't stand change.

I am fiercely loyal to tradition and sameness. My day feels wrong when I get out of my "routine".

Monday I will find out what school I've been placed at to teach next year. In the last ten years, I have been through changes in principals, changes in curriculum, and changes in staff, but never have I changed anything on my own, on purpose.

I have stayed at Wilson because it was my first love. The staff there has always felt so welcoming and genuine. They genuinely care about each other and the future of the school and their students.

I have stayed in the 6th grade because I fell in love with my 6th grade teacher and never forgot her. She was such a powerful player in my life and gave me such a sense of stability in times of turmoil. I hope that I was able to do that for the students I taught. Each one of them had their own unique story and after learning who they were each year, it was so painful to let them go, knowing I may not ever know how their story ends.

Change started when I had Mia. When she was two weeks old, I could sense change happening, but I didn't know what it would look like in the end. I didn't know then that I would decide to take more time off work than I had planned. I didn't know I would choose her over work, but feel so conflicted and torn because of my loyalty to my students and coworkers, all the time knowing that she was my most important student.

I didn't know that my school would change while I was away. I didn't know that I would lie awake tonight worried about working at a school where I don't "know the rules". And I didn't know that I would ultimately feel cheated and unfairly discarded by the new administration.

I know that God works on us most when we are walking through the desert, but I feel like I've been in that desert for the majority of my life and I really just need some rest. I pray for some relief.

I will never regret spending more time with Mia than time at work. I will never regret having made loyalties to Wilson school and the students, parents, and teachers there. I just wish it wasn't all so painful. And I wish I could sleep at night. I dream constantly and can't sleep well anymore.

I know that change is a part of life, but I hate it.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Helpful Girl

Mia is my little helpful girl. She loves to do whatever I'm doing. When I fold laundry, she takes the kitchen towels to the kitchen and puts them in the drawer. She puts the bibs in the basket in the kitchen, and she takes her own clothes to her room.

When I empty the trash around the house, she takes the baskets back to each of the bathrooms. When I put laundry in the dryer, she pushes it in for me. She runs to help whenever she hears me put a pot on the stove, or bang dishes in the kitchen. She gets one of our huge kitchen chairs and pushes it across the kitchen so she can stand by the counter and help me pour things or mix things.

She's the spoon and tupperware girl when I unload the dishwasher. After a trip to the grocery store or the farmer's market, Mia will put a bag of groceries on her arm like a purse and carry (drag) it to the front door. She loves to take the canned food and put it on the low pantry shelf. She works out her muscles lifting 2 or 3 water bottles at once to put in the fridge. (Really, you should hear her grunt as she lifts them because they are so heavy).

And Troy's favorite is when she walks around the kitchen behind me and closes the cupboard doors that I leave open! She will even tell me when there is a cupboard door that needs closing that is too high for her to reach.

I love my little helpful girl! She even helps me make the bed by sitting in it and holding the sheets up. Hopefully, I can post pictures soon.

A Toddler's Memory

The other day, Troy and I decided to walk to Rite Aid and get Mia her first ice cream cone. She'd had ice cream once or twice before, but only with a spoon, never on a cone. When we entered the store, we walked to the left where the ice cream stand is and ordered our cones. The lady behind the counter scooped a monstrous one for Mia! We walked outside and decided that it would be best to sit on the curb and eat our ice cream in case that huge scoop of vanilla decided to jump out of the cone and into Mia's stroller (that's not something I wanted to clean up). We sat down on the curb and gave Mia her cone, which she had to hold with two hands because it was so heavy. Troy and I started eating our ice cream, but Mia just sat holding the cone and watching us. She didn't know what to do. We tried to show her how to lick the ice cream, but all she could figure out was to touch her tongue to it, so it was quite a slow process. Troy had to "clean up" her cone a few times. In the end, she really enjoyed it and even ate the entire cone!

About a week after our trip to Rite Aid, I had Mia with me in the car and I told her we were going to stop at the store and get a carton of ice cream to take home. She said, "Ice" like she knew what I was talking about. We got out of the car and walked into the store where she immediately tried to take a left (towards the ice cream stand). I told her we were not going that way and convinced her to come to the back of the store with me where the cartons of ice cream were. I got the ice cream and we paid and walked outside. As we were stepping off the curb into the street, Mia stopped and tried to sit down on the curb. She was saying, "Ice" over and over. Can you believe that she remembered from a week before? I was blown away. I've always wondered how much a child could remember, and this was a great example for sure!