Waiting

Many days, I feel like my life is just one long line after another. I'm perpetually waiting for something ...

A snow day.

My husband's arrival home from work.

The weekend.

The summer.

A planned trip or vacation.

A holiday.

A phone call from a friend.

A television show to come on.

Dinner to be done.

A better job.

My turn to be a mother.

This list could stretch on an on without fail ...

While, for the most part, I try not to cloud my daily thinking with the many things that I am looking forward to (or just simply waiting for), sometimes it just bogs me down. Maybe the cold, grayness of winter has finally crept into my thinking and colored the way I'm seeing things. Maybe the lack of sun and vitamin D has altered my mood and brought me down. Whatever the reason, I all too clearly realize that, if I don't stop and enjoy the moment, my life will pass me by before I know it.

Already, I can't believe that the Christmas holidays are behind us, that this school year is half over, that the long-awaited family trip to Mexico has come and gone. Part of me wants to ask, "Okay! Where is the next big thing? When will [insert event here] happen?" Yet, the other part of me just wants to slow down, put the car in neutral, and be thankful for all of the things that I have already, in the moment, that I don't have to wait for.

This life can not offer me a true moment of peace and complete satisfaction.

I may really have to wait a while for that ...

Leaky Faucet

For as long as I can remember, my Mom has always been a big softy. If she wasn't falling asleep on "family movie nights" she was crying instead, furiously wiping tears away from her face. I (along with my sisters) always found this funny and would talk about it for days afterward ...

I never had a problem with crying during movies myself until the past five years or so. I don't know what it is, but I tear up at least once or twice during just about every movie I watch ... And it's getting worse!

The best I can remember, it started with a comedy, The Wedding Singer. There's one part, toward the end of the movie where Drew Barrymore's character is talking to herself in the mirror and realizes that she's not in love with the man she's about to marry. To comfort herself, she starts talking to the mirror as if she's marrying someone else, a friend who has been there with her through everything, and realizes that she has feelings for him, instead. At that very moment, that same friend is watching from the street below ready to express his feelings for her, but, upon seeing her smiling and laughing, turns away because he doesn't want to ruin her big day if she is truly happy (which she isn't!).

I don't know what it was, but something about that scene hit me and caused a rogue tear to escape down my cheek ... From then on, it has only gotten worse. Any movie with "feel good" themes and/or an uplifting message gets me every time. It can be drama, comedy, animated. Whatever the genre, you name it ... I turn into my mother and lose it just about every time.

Even television shows get me on occasion ... A season finale of The Office where Jim comes back for Pam, an episode of The Biggest Loser where the contestants get to see their families for the first time in weeks, and (I hate to even admit it) even America's Next Top Model where a finalist says that she never felt pretty before, and now she finally does ...

Like I said, it's getting worse.

It's not that a good cry doesn't feel good on a semi-regular basis. I just feel like, if I'm going to cry, it might as well be for a real reason, and not because a movie or television show has coerced it out of me. If you asked those closest to me, I can be sensitive, but I'm not an overly emotional person. For example, my husband has (lovingly?) described me as being the "coldest person he has ever known."

So, why movies? Why now?

Any hypotheses addressing the matter would be greatly appreciated. I always knew that I had the potential of "becoming my mother." I just didn't think it would happen this soon!

A New School

Many days, I wish that things with my job (and teaching in general) were easier. I feel like, no matter what I do, it's like pulling teeth with my students.

They aren't motivated.

They don't care about completing their work (or passing the class).

They aren't very easily excited ... I mean, even the prospect of working with ten test tubes filled with unknown chemicals doesn't cause a noticeable reaction!

It makes me sad that there is so little enthusiasm for learning and just plain expanding one's universe with these kids.

Maybe I need to expand my universe and move to a different school ...


Something similar to the one I encountered while in Mexico would be nice.

Blindsided

I know I always say that I'm not surprised by anything that happens within the walls of my high school, but something exceptionally weird happened this week ...

At the end of the day, one of my most trustworthy students approached me and asked if I had noticed an out-of-place visitor in my classroom the period before. Stopping to think about it ... The period had been chaotic as my students worked on group projects and I tried desperately to keep their volume under control and their group work on task ... I couldn't recall seeing anyone that didn't belong.

After I replied that I hadn't noticed any impostors, the student went on to tell me how a student from one of my previous sections had snuck into the room about five minutes after the period began, hid under her friend's lab table, and proceeded to stay there for the rest of the period (forty minutes)!! Apparently, I had passed by the area multiple times, yet never caught on to what was happening under my nose.

Not only did I feel incredibly stupid that my students had to point this out to me (Really, how could I blatantly miss someone sitting under a table for forty minutes and not see them come or go?) I also felt betrayed and angry at the situation.

The sneaky student, you see, was one that other teachers complain about, but that I feel like I have advocated for and gone out of my way to mentor. I have pushed her and praised her, listened to her scholastic struggles between classes, and basically done everything in my power to lift her up where others may have crushed her down. It genuinely hurt my feelings that she would use me and my classroom in such a way ... That she obviously thinks I'm an idiot and wouldn't notice her little game (which, to her credit, I didn't).

I know I probably shouldn't take the situation personally because teenagers are so fickle, but the whole thing has just weighed me down since it happened. Skipping class is one thing. Doing it by hiding in my room is another thing entirely. It is something so disappointing and unacceptable that I can't really formulate the words to truly describe how I feel about it.

I guess the best summation is that I feel betrayed.

What is the point of putting yourself out there, taking the extra time, and trying to form these mentor relationships with students, when all they do is use it against you (whether consciously or not)?

I sure didn't see this one coming.

Feliz Año Nuevo

I know I'm a little belated in this sentiment, but I'm having a difficult time adjusting to the "Cleveland gray" after a wonderful week of vibrant Mexico color.

I mean, if you have to wake up early (on vacation, even!), this makes it all worthwhile...

The photo doesn't even do it justice.

Early Christmas Present

Last Friday afternoon marked the beginning of my Christmas vacation.

While the school day itself was uneventful for the most part, I wanted to share a portion of an article in our school's "newspaper." It's author, Andy, is one of my favorite students because he is one of the few that actually gets it.

He wrote:

Are your teachers heroes? Yes, they are heroes, but they are put in the back of our minds. They don't sit on golden thrones like our athletes do, but instead are at times teased, complained about and made fun of because they push us to make us better than we are ... In this season of giving, and maybe beyond, if we're all that we should be, perhaps the most important gift that we can offer is a simple "thank you" to those who don't set themselves up in the glare of celebrity, but instead serve humanity and make the best of this world. If you have a moment during our winter break, make the world a little brighter. Look around and find someone to thank.

No. Thank you Andy.

For giving me hope that my hard work doesn't not go unrecognized by the students that I'm trying reach ...

White Lights

Weeks ago, I took to decorating the house for the Christmas season. While most of my decorating was "by the books" and pretty much the same as it has been for the past couple of years, I decided to change things up a little bit (throw caution to the wind!) and wind some white mini-lights around the railing to our second floor ...

Although it was completely unorthodox ... Usually, I use the colored mini-lights ... I was quite satisfied with the finished product:



It looked peaceful.

Angelic, even.

Certainly a decoration that is completely in tune with the holiday spirit and all that it entails.

To my dear husband, however, it is merely bright ...

"Did you have to use the white lights?" He complained upon seeing them in all their glowing glory. "They're going to cause a glare on the TV! There's no way I'm going to turn those on in the evening!"

Well, since that first day of decorating, my pretty white lights have only been on when I've turned them on ... Until last night when I spied him reading with the peaceful lights twinkling by his side.

Someone must be getting into the "Christmas Spirit."