School and More School

Did I mention that I was inside studying yesterday as the children played in the snow and Dave hottubbed with neighbor? Oh, I did mention that - really? Well, if you're up for a pity party, keep reading. If you'd rather forgo my self indulgence, feel free to skip to another blog. I really don't mind. But here goes...

My transcript, if I must say so myself, is a bit full. It starts with a Bachelors of Education Degree in Elementary Education/Special Education, then has a Masters of Science in Education, and a Ph.D. in Teaching and Learning. Last year I tacked on another 15 credits for a Librarian's Credential and this year I am adding more classes in Special Education. And that's not counting any credits provided by the Red River Valley Writing Project or numerous other professional development classes I've taken.

So why am I taking Special Education classes you ask? In all honesty, I find myself asking that same questions over and over again lately. I'm all about learning more - and that's certainly what I've been doing this fall. Yet I'm a bit fed up with my transript and all my education and my teaching license. It all started 22 years ago when I was student teaching in Elementary and Special Education. That semester I discovered I could graduate early with an Elementary Education Degree. I had one class left to finish my Special Education Degree and knew I could take it by correspondence. So, I graduated in December, moved to Minneapolis in January, finished the class by May, and got my first teaching job in Farmington, MN in June. It all worked out perfectly. My MN teaching license showed I had special education so I didn't think I needed to do anything else for that part of my teaching license. Fast forward to 2010 and my frantic job search in late July/early August. I was offered a job as a special educator but my teaching license didn't show a special education endorsement. In essence, because I didn't go back and check on my college degree after finishing the correspondence class, I now have five, perhaps six, graduate classes I need to take. Each to the tune of about $1,000. Compare that to my undergraduate degree where I could take 21 credits for $650.00. This was a pretty costly mistake. The good news about it is that I was still able to accept the job and am enjoying it. I am remembering what it was about special education I loved - the kids, the kids, the kids.

Now I realize with No Child Left Behind and the fact I actually never taught in special education, I would probably have needed to take some classes. It's just that for once in my life, I am not excited about taking classes. In fact, I'm a bit resentful. Not at the institution, not at the professors, not at the classes themselves - just at life. I'm feeling the need for a little bit of a break. Any time now would be just fine... any time.


P.S. As I posted this entry to check for formatting, up came a pop-up window - for a graduate degree at one of those online universities. I about screamed.

Nine-Year-Old Ingenuity

After the kids came in from the snow they immediately covered the back hall and kitchen radiators with their wet clothing. I was in the dining room studying and came out to see hats and mittens sticking out of the radiator spines - which was new to me. But the best ingenuity came from John in the form of the "pen holding up snowpants right by the radiator." Pretty clever, but best of all - dry snow pants!

1st Snow - 2010

To John and Lucy's delight, we finally got some snow on the ground. They spent most of the afternoon outside and even ventured to the sledding hill for a bit of snow/grass sledding. I spent most of the day inside studying (Woe is Me) while Dave sat in Neighbor Jim's hottub and watched some football. A nice Sunday - what a nice Sunday.

Mama is a Cheerleader

I was a cheerleader for one season - and was never really good at it. In fact, I was probably one of the most unenthusiastic cheerleaders there ever was. I found it all to be embarassing - the standing in front of the crowd, the awkward yelling, and the forced jumps and high kicks. It just wasn't me - and I was so happy to have that 7th grade boys basketball season over with. After that season I became one of the stats for the team - and found the sideline work much more comfortable.

Yet, I'm sure my kids would say I'm a big cheerleader. They, in fact, are often embarassed by my cheerleading efforts whether it's telling a dancer "Great Job" after a ballet recital or yelling for all the little ones running in a summer track meet (pictured above). But what I love about cheering or congratulating someone on a job well done is that I'm sincere and (hopefully) encouraging. Maybe that's why I wasn't comfortable with the cheerleader status - it didn't always feel sincere and heartfelt. I mean really, your team is down by 30 points and you're cheering, "Here We Go Cubs, Here We Go" - does anybody actually believe that?

But give me a four year old who is running as hard as he can with a big smile on his face and I'm sure to cheer for him. I'm going clap my hands and yell "Great job - keep it up." and he might look over at me wondering who the crazy lady is that's yelling at him, but I really am "oh-so-proud" of that kid. So, call me a cheerleader.

Just write...

A few months ago someone asked me why I wasn’t blogging anymore. At the time we were in the teacher’s lounge surrounded by people I was just getting to know so all I said was something to the effect of, “Life is too sad right now.” But since she said that I’m reminded of advice I gave Sophie this summer when our lives changed in an instant – “Write about your feelings Sophie, just write.” Don’t worry – I’m not planning on sharing the most intimate details of the past five months with you, but I do think it’s important to take my own advice and start writing again. So here we go…

From the Mouths of Babes

The other day I was reaching over the head of a first-grader as she sat at the computer and she exclaimed, "Oh, you've got bubblegum breath!" I smiled and told her, "Thanks, usually I have plain old coffee breath."

I love the alliteration of it - bubblegum breath. But most of all I love that it was my own breath - free of any flavorings or preservatives. It doesn't always work out that way, but when it does it makes me happy.

Shoelaces, the Back Door and a Face Plant

Be warned - never be in such a hurry to get out the door that you don't bother to tie your shoelaces. Especially if they're long shoelaces. Especially if you're also carrying a hot cup of coffee. And especially if you're used to slamming the door shut (hard) behind you.

Because if you do, you might just get both shoelaces caught in the door and pitch forward as you try to walk - resulting in a loud scream, an unexpected tossing of the coffee cup, and a hard landing on the concrete steps.

But if you're lucky your face might land exactly where the next step goes down so it doesn't hit the concrete, the coffee cup might hit the patio block and shatter, but not enough to cut you, and you might be able to twist around enough to pull at least one shoelace out the door and hoist yourself up.

And then you might complain of a sore wrist, two sore palms, a sore chest, and one swollen knee. But at least the coffee wasn't all that hot and your face didn't get scratched up.

But be warned...be warned.

Let's start again

I know it’s been a very long time since I last blogged – and so much has happened in that time. But to be honest, I just couldn’t do it anymore. More and more in the last few months that I did blog I felt like a big fake. You know the person, the perfectly coiffed woman whose children always have matching clothes and socks and never, ever have a (GASP!) bouger (sp?) hanging from their cute little noses.

Well I’ve never claimed to be perfectly groomed. In fact last September I saw an old college roommate at a funeral. I haven’t seen her in a few years and she commented on how I haven’t changed a bit – still unafraid to go out in public straight out of the shower – wet head and all.

I’ve also never claimed to have perfect children. I’m sure any walker or runner who frequents Belmont Road can attest to the fact that I have, at times, yelled at my children or the dog. Yelling at my husband – not so much.

So why did I feel like a fake? Probably because it felt like I was only providing a glowing picture of family life to the world – I never blogged about those times I lost it and yelled at the kids, or the times I let them stay in their pajamas and watch TV all day long so I could finish reading a book in the living room.

Rarely did I write about the talks with teachers, sisters, sisters-in-law, friends or Mom and Dad – doubting our ability to keep raising these kids the best way we think possible.

So I felt like a fake – our world is not perfect – far from it – and I stopped writing. But, as long as we all understand that aspect of the blog I think I’m ready to begin again. The blog is meant to capture moments that are precious at the time, but sometimes fade in our memory, to post pictures so relatives near and far can see the kids growing, and to (once in a while) vent about life’s frustrations. But please remember, behind the pictures and the stories we are real people living real lives.

So here goes…

The Last Nine Months Recap (more, possibly, to come later…)

• The Johnsons made it through the Fargo/Moorhead flood. We missed them when they were gone but they were happy (oh-so-happy) to be back together as a family again.
• I took a job as a librarian at a local Catholic school. It’s part-time and I love it.
• I’m back in school again – to get my librarian’s credential. Picture my side of conversation with Dave, “I guess my Ph.D. isn’t really my terminal degree… Yes I really do need a librarian’s credential to teach…Yes I’m learning a tremendous amount…. Did you send in the tuition check? Oh, what about paying for those textbooks? … Thanks honey!”
• Lucy and John attend the same school where I teach. It’s wonderful to see them each day. And the best news is I think I’ve only embarrassed John once. (That was their big concern when we discussed them switching schools.)
• Sophie has welcomed middle school with open arms and is having a wonderful year at Schroeder.
• Dave is still next door – plugging away at insurance business. But the big news is he is actually reading more fiction books – yeah!
• Dave’s oldest sister, Roberta, found out she has leukemia and has spent many months in the hospital since September. Please, please, please keep her in your prayers.
• I’ve finished two quilts since September – one for Roberta and one, with the help of all the other teachers from St. Mike’s, that was then raffled off as a fundraiser for our school secretary.

There was so much more – but I’ll have to try to remember it as we go along.